The meeting chairperson shook his head in exasperation.
"Dr. Nichols, do you realize how unrealistic this is? Allocating such a massive budget to prevent an unfounded attack—not to mention, do you understand the panic this would cause among the general public?"
However, in the next moment, Dr. Nichols suddenly stood up, slamming his palm down on the table. "This is negligence! Why can't you damned bureaucrats face reality?"
"This country *should* be panicking, considering the threats we face right now."
"Please sit down, Dr. Nichols," the chairperson raised his voice as well.
"I will *not* sit down!" Dr. Nichols became even more enraged, while the chairperson and the nearby congressmen and military representatives looked on, speechless.
"This is an era of asymmetric warfare and weapons of mass destruction. If you continue to ignore this reality, it will get everyone in this country killed! And I won't hesitate to keep publicly condemning you bureaucrats!"
As the video ended, the expressions of those present became quite complex. The middle-aged man turned and said, "According to the committee, his rhetoric became increasingly radical, and his emotions grew more erratic after this."
"So they kicked him out of Fort Detrick?" Rossi turned to look at General Whitworth.
"And barred him from joining any other important departments," the general replied with a somewhat subtle expression. "Dr. Nichols was once highly respected in the field. He was merely proposing what he believed to be defensive strategies, not offensive ones."
"But it's clear that he felt his views were not given the attention they deserved, and maybe he decided to prove his point through some drastic means," Hodgner countered.
Honestly, Jack thought that Hodgner's businesslike, no-nonsense demeanor made him perfect for dealing with these high-ranking officials in situations like this. Rossi had truly chosen well when selecting the team.
"He had access to pathogens, lost a good job, and went through a divorce—he fits your profile completely." Even the middle-aged man, whose exact role was unclear, now seemed to side with the BAU.
General Whitworth appeared hesitant. His thoughts were easy to guess—after all, Dr. Nichols had once worked at Fort Detrick. If it was confirmed that Dr. Nichols was involved in this terrorist attack, or even the perpetrator, it was likely that someone would use this to attack him as the person in charge.
"Regardless, this is an important lead. Where is he currently employed?" Rossi asked.
"At 'Biodesign Technologies,' an outsourced company under our purview. But they don't research anthrax; their main focus is influenza," General Whitworth replied.
Rossi began walking out, speaking as he went, "Emily and I will visit his office. Jack, take Reid and check his house. Hodgner and JJ, stay behind and call the director—see if you can buy us some more time."
—
Lawrence Nichols lived in Leonardtown, a small town in southern Maryland, less than an hour's drive from Annapolis. However, it was already afternoon, and rush hour had begun.
By the time Jack and Reid, along with soldiers from the Hazmat team, arrived at the sizable villa, it was already 5 p.m.
The villa appeared empty. The Hazmat soldiers checked the surrounding area first and found nothing unusual, so they proceeded inside to inspect. Meanwhile, Jack and Reid walked around the villa, looking for any clues.
The garden behind the villa was somewhat neglected, likely left untended since Lawrence Nichols' divorce, with the absence of a woman's touch.
The two eventually stopped in front of a small standing fountain—a decorative piece that resembled a short pillar, slightly taller than half a person, with a basin in the middle.
Jack examined the somewhat outdated fountain curiously. It seemed it hadn't been functional for a long time; the basin was filled with dried leaves, yet it emitted a strange humming sound.
"Reid, could this be a fan? It feels like some sort of ventilation device."
Reid leaned in to take a closer look. "It does seem like a vent for a negative pressure system."
Jack looked around the garden. In one corner, there was a dilapidated greenhouse, but no other structures were in sight.
Just as he was about to circle around the fountain to inspect further, his phone suddenly rang. It was a call from Rossi.
Jack answered the call and signaled Reid to wait. At that moment, the garden's automatic sprinklers turned on, forcing him to step back a few paces to avoid getting wet.
Rossi and Emily had found nothing of value at Lawrence Nichols' lab. The lab supervisor mentioned that the doctor hadn't been seen for at least three days.
In other words, Lawrence Nichols had gone missing before the bookstore incident occurred.
The Hazmat soldiers who accompanied them found no traces of anthrax spores in his office either, suggesting that the doctor had not used the lab's equipment to synthesize the pathogen—or if he had, he'd cleaned up thoroughly.
After hanging up, Jack turned around, only to realize that Reid was nowhere to be seen.
"Reid?" Jack called out as he entered the rundown greenhouse. To his surprise, he found a staircase leading down hidden behind the door.
That idiot didn't go down alone, did he? Jack's heart raced as he hurried down the stairs.
"Reid," Jack called out again, louder this time.
The space below seemed vast, with an echo faintly returning his call.
"Don't come in—stay away!" Reid's voice came just as a loud bang sounded from the basement.
Jack rushed into the basement, only to see that Reid had already shut a glass sliding door and locked it from the inside. Behind the glass, Reid looked at him with a panicked expression.
"I'm sorry, I think I made a mistake."
It was a makeshift lab. After closing the sliding door, Reid was now in a completely sealed room. Jack's gaze fell on the ground behind Reid, where a broken test tube lay surrounded by some white powder.
Not far away, between two rows of shelves, lay a corpse in a pool of blood, long dried and blackened.
"You wait right there!" Jack was so angry he could hardly contain himself, and he immediately turned and ran.
"Set up a decontamination tent, call for a CDC emergency unit, and notify Dr. Kimura and General Whitworth—we have a suspected anthrax leak."
At the villa entrance, the soldiers froze upon hearing this, stopping midway through removing their protective gear.
"What happened?" asked a familiar captain.
"There's a basement disguised as a greenhouse in the back of the garden—it's Lawrence Nichols' private lab. Get me a protective suit—my colleague locked himself inside."
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