The Mind Virus

Chapter 14 - Part 3

"Yeah, I get that," Ford said as he took a swig of his beer, bottle pressed between the two palms of his hands. "So where do we go from here?"

"Well, sadly, I may have burned some bridges. Not intentionally, of course, but as time went on and messages were exchanged, a few of the folks in the organization started getting a bit suspicious of me. It goes without saying that word spread, and now no one is returning my emails and texts."

"I see. I'm not trying to be negative, but with that well dried up, what more do we have?"

"I was thinking about that," Terry said. "If we can track down every suicide in reverse order, we can follow the path that the weapon took. If we manage to trace it to the source, we might be able to find out where the organization is based. Once we have that information, with your position in the police, we can expose them and hope that whichever arm of the government looks over the research can find a way to cure it."

"You're assuming that they're not already part of the government."

"Maybe they are, but surely the conspiracy can't run that deep that everyone in every branch of the government knows about it and is involved in it. I mean, you work for the government, and you're not involved."

"I wish I could say the same for everyone in my department."

"We're both on borrowed time. We can't just sit back and let the virus take us apart. We're facing almost certain death anyway. What have we got to lose?"

Ford looked down at his hands. "What indeed."

"Uh, yeah, gruesome stuff, that. Sorry, I didn't mean to trivialize your little... encounter. It's just that the clock is ticking, and inaction leads us down exactly one road, and it's not a good one."

"No, I see what you're saying," Ford conceded. "So what do you know about the path that this 'weapon' took?"

"Not much. The organization doesn't know anything about it either. They apparently have an operative tracking it down, but as far as I know – and that's not a hell of a lot – he hasn't come up with anything yet either. See, this is where I was hoping you could come in. Am I understanding correctly that you have investigated at least some of the suicides?"

Ford grunted in affirmation.

"So we just keep following the trail," Terry continued. "Well, you just keep following the trail. My presence might ruffle some feathers, unless you want to pass me off as a ride along."

"That's not an option, and for more reasons than I'd care to admit."

"Right." Terry didn't entirely know what Ford meant, but there was no sense in pushing something which was likely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. "So you're good with it all? I mean, when you opened the door, you said you were no longer on the case. Would you consider yourself back on it now? I don't really know how this stuff works."

"More complicated than you imagine. Let's just say I'm back on the case and hope that I don't get my toes broken one by one next."

Terry didn't know whether it would be polite to laugh or not, so he remained silent.

"How do I get in contact with you if I find something?" Ford asked.

"I'll write down my number for you." Terry picked up a pen on Ford's desk and scribbled his number down on a notepad. "Can I get yours as well?"

"I'm sort of tied to my landline at the moment. I know it's not particularly convenient, but the number for that is printed just next to the phone over there." Ford pointed at a phone hanging on the wall.

"You don't have a mobile?" Terry asked as he walked over to the phone.

"It met the same fate as my fingers, I'm afraid."

"Right, landline it is, then." Terry finished entering Ford's number into his phone. "I'm gonna go find a motel to check into. It was a pleasure to meet you, Detective Ford."

"Yeah, likewise. I'd shake your hand, but, you know..."

Terry permitted himself a laugh. "I'll show myself out."

"Hold on, bud. I never got your name."

"Terry Howell."

"Stay in touch, Terry Howell."

"Same to you," Terry said as he walked out the front door.