Epilog

The Pentagon, Washington DC, March, 2078, Thursday…

Simon Multani sat nervously in front of the National Intelligence Director.

"You made some interesting claims about that laboratory in Maracaibo," Pennestri told him. "That's why I called you in. I hope you didn't broadcast them around."

"I think I was trying to tell Caitlin that night, but I was drunk and speaking in Spanish. Of course, I didn't know I was speaking in Spanish until Asako got after me the next morning." He winked at Pennestri. "But she was the one that didn't go to work, not me."

"I see. I'll remember to not trust you with the really big secrets." Pennestri smiled back at Simon.

"Well, I still say that we should have sent an agent down to Maracaibo to find out what was going on in that medical facility," said Simon.

"How do you know I didn't?"

"You wouldn't be talking to me now if you had."

"Maybe, maybe not. Now, about those claims you've been making."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," said Simon, immediately regretting the cliché. "I think I've got a logic flow here that's good. We have observed that there was a single Maracaibo blast, not multiple ones like in Caracas and Bogotá. Now, I asked myself, how can that be? The answer was easy: the medical company was really a cover. They were developing a new weapon there. Given Harrison's connections to the military, I believe that it was a Pentagon sponsored project. I bet that Harrison never really retired. That last is not in my report, but you probably guessed I was going to say it."