Jack shook his head with a smile. "He doesn't need to get inside. All he has to do is target the people who work there, for example, by attacking them on their commute via the subway."
Fort Detrick isn't just filled with important doctors, professors, or generals who commute with personal aides in military vehicles. The majority of the workforce consists of ordinary researchers who live in nearby cities and towns, commuting by subway every day to clock in for work.
"Chad Brown is a failure desperate for recognition from authority, a coward. He might be ruthless enough to harm children and ordinary people in the park, but to sneak into Fort Detrick? He neither has the capability nor the guts."
General Whitworth hesitated. The BAU team had proven him wrong multiple times, and his initial confidence had long faded. He was unsure whether to stick with his judgment.
JJ pointed to the subway map displayed on the screen. "The nearest station to Chad Brown's house is in Frederick."
She then looked at Hotchner, awaiting his final decision.
Hotchner didn't hesitate for a second. "Contact the Maryland Transit Authority. Send them Chad Brown's photo and deploy HAZMAT teams to all stations along the line. We're heading to Frederick."
He turned to General Whitworth. "General, we really need your help."
A barely noticeable smile appeared on Jack's lips. Despite Hotchner's usual stoic demeanor, he was well aware that any successful leader had a high emotional intelligence. Hotchner wasn't just a technical bureaucrat; as an administrative director who could speak directly with the FBI Director, he was a master at reading people.
Whether or not General Whitworth could help at this moment was uncertain, but when it came time to share the credit, he definitely couldn't be left out.
A convoy of over ten SUVs and military Humvees sped through the city streets, attracting the attention of bystanders who speculated about another shooting incident. Some quick thinkers were already pulling out their phones to search for breaking news.
Jack was driving as usual, while Hotchner, in the passenger seat, never stopped making calls.
"Do not wear gas masks. Yes, I repeat, do not wear gas masks. It's rush hour, and if people see gas masks, it will cause panic and potentially lead to a stampede."
Hotchner ended the call and exhaled deeply.
"Security at the Transit Authority has identified Chad Brown on surveillance footage. He just entered the station, and there's not enough time to stop the next train. It arrives in six minutes."
"We'll create a diversion. Jack, your job is to secure his backpack. We cannot let him have the chance to release anthrax."
Jack patted the left side of his ribcage, full of confidence. "Don't worry, he won't get the chance."
The worst of it was behind them. Rossi and Emily couldn't make it to the station in time, so they went straight to the hospital. They just sent word that the medication extracted from the nebulizer had been confirmed as an inhalable form of polymyxin. Dr. Kimura's team was coordinating the necessary medical resources to treat the four surviving patients and Reid, who had just been admitted. So far, the antibiotic seemed effective, and everything was moving in a positive direction.
As the two talked, the convoy approached the destination.
Jack slammed on the brakes, causing the large SUV to skid, knocking over several poorly parked bicycles, and ended up on the sidewalk, frightening pedestrians who had just exited the subway station into squeals of terror.
The two quickly jumped out of the car, with the rest of the convoy stopping one after another amid screeching brakes. Hotchner put on his headset and issued orders.
"Seal off the exits and evacuate the station. We've confirmed that Chad Brown just entered the platform. The train arrives in three minutes."
Behind them, about a dozen local FBI agents and soldiers under General Whitworth's command spread out, beginning to evacuate the crowds from the outermost to the innermost areas.
Jack and Hotchner pushed through the crowded platform, descending to the lowest level, where they immediately spotted Chad Brown in the crowd.
He was a short, thin man with glasses, carrying a backpack that seemed comically oversized for his frame. He looked around nervously.
Hotchner's black suit and earpiece made him look unmistakably like an FBI agent, and Chad Brown immediately sensed something was wrong as soon as he turned his head.
He started walking quickly toward the far end of the platform, but before he could take more than two steps, a calm, commanding voice rang out behind him.
"Chad Brown, don't move."
Chad Brown turned to see Hotchner holding a Glock aimed directly at him.
"Don't come any closer."
Chad Brown gripped his backpack tightly, his expression growing increasingly agitated.
"I can kill everyone here."
"I'll take you down before you get the chance," Hotchner replied, steadying his grip on the Glock, showing no intention of backing down.
As Hotchner steadily approached, Chad Brown grew more nervous, clutching the backpack even tighter, and took several steps back.
Just as the standoff seemed to reach a boiling point, a short, stocky figure appeared, panting heavily.
"Stop! Stop! Lower your weapon!"
General Whitworth, dressed in full military uniform, suddenly appeared, stepping between Hotchner and Chad Brown.
"General, what are you doing?" Hotchner asked in shock, reluctantly lowering his weapon.
"Call your director, now, immediately. This is a direct order from the President. The U.S. Army is taking over this suspect."
General Whitworth's sudden interference infuriated Hotchner. "General, the Army has no jurisdiction here. This is a matter of national security."
"Now we do!" General Whitworth shot back without hesitation.
"Dr. Nichols is dead. He was the only person involved in creating this strain. Only he can tell us how to make the super anthrax."
"General, he's a terrorist!" Hotchner couldn't believe what he was hearing, his hand trembling slightly with anger.
"No! He's a national asset. By order of the President, I'm taking him with me." General Whitworth was adamant, then turned to Chad Brown, his tone slightly softer.
"Sir, please come with me."
"Where... where are we going?" Chad Brown asked, his voice trembling. His emotions were in turmoil, as if he were on a roller coaster—nervous, fearful, surprised, ecstatic—all at once.
"To Fort Detrick, of course, sir." General Whitworth looked at him as though he were admiring a rare gem, his eyes filled with a hunger for talent.
"Fort Detrick? Really?" Chad Brown struggled to contain his excitement.
"I helped create this bacterium. You have to name it after me."
General Whitworth shrugged, extending a hand in an inviting gesture. "Of course, sir. That's standard procedure, isn't it?"
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