Pipeline Killers_Bernadette Callahan. A female detective mystery with international suspense._Book 2 by Lyle Nicholson

Author:Lyle Nicholson [Nicholson, Lyle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Cuillin Publishing
Published: 2014-11-12T05:00:00+00:00

18

From the level of activity in the building, it was evident that something major had developed as Bernadette and Anton walked in. Agents huddled around laptops in offices and pointed at data, waving their hands, as if they were manufacturing new facts in thin air.

Anton looked at Bernadette. “Looks like something’s happened. Get a coffee, and I’ll meet you in my office.”

Bernadette smiled. “So, I’m cleared for intelligence service, but not that cleared.”

Anton said, “Let’s say, if I have you wandering around the building and Patterson sees you, he’s liable to remember why he doesn’t like you—again.”

Bernadette patted Anton’s shoulder. “Not a problem, you have real gourmet coffee here. It makes the RCMP stuff look like sludge. I’ll be in your office kicking back until you return the Intel. I think I might get to like this assignment.”

Anton shook his head and walked away. “Yes, I’m just here to look after your every need.”

Bernadette found the agency coffee room, and put in a coffee capsule of Columbian Supreme and added the half and half coffee cream from the fridge and her usual large dose of sugar. She was just muttering to herself how she could get used to this when Anton walked back in the room.

“Hey, you’ve got to come with me.”

“I thought I was going to be in the way.”

Anton just shook his head. “Look, just follow me. You’ve got to see this latest satellite feed of the Russian pipeline from the CIA.”

Bernadette followed Anton down the hall to the main situation room. An array of large screen monitors displayed various geography from around the world. The center screen held a latitude and longitude for Russia. A long length of pipeline was disappearing before their eyes.

A group of agents milled around the screen, pointing out the progression of the destruction on the line. An agent sitting at a desk with a laptop was punching up other sites and satellite photos. Patterson stood there, arms crossed, giving commands for different satellite views.

Anton and Bernadette stood at the back of the room; Anton leaned over and said, “This is the CIA Satellite over Samara, the area where they lost the terrorists.”

Bernadette didn’t look at Anton; her eyes were transfixed on the screen. The pipeline was vanishing—a wake of black oil left in its path. A small army of trucks was racing alongside it. “Is this real time?”

“Yes, it is,” Anton said. He looked down at this cell phone and started to read a text. “The Russians says a main pumping station got hit by terrorists a half hour ago. They blew themselves up, and took some soldiers with them. They assume the Bio Bugs stolen from the University of Victoria are responsible for this destruction.”

“Can you send the Russians a message, and tell them the only way to stop the pipeline destruction is to break it, like a fire break in a forest fire?” Bernadette asked, looking at Anton.

“How do you know this?”

“Just send them the message. I’ll tell you later.” Bernadette looked back at the screen.

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