Weapons Grade
By Samantha Jay
© February 2002
Author's note: All the victim's names have been changed in order to protect
them and the legal team of HuggleBugs have asked that all of their staff be
identified by first names only.
It first reared it's head in the form of an email sent to Prue ****, the
President of HuggleBugs and was treated as junk mail. It was followed up
with a letter, which was addressed to Jennifer Jane **** and by the time it
got to me, it was already too late.
Who am I? Special Agent Sam Jay, ATB. I work the special cases, the ones
they don't want the public to find out about and this case was very special.
Maggie, the Bureau Chief, briefed me on this job. There were three of us on
the case, all hand picked by Maggie, and I was team leader. What's ATB, I
can hear you ask? Anti-Terrorism Bureau, although we also deal with
extortion as well and no, you haven't heard of us. Officially, we don't
exist.
So, what was so special about this job? You may remember at least one small
article in a local newspaper, before we got it squashed, about a
thirty-year-old man suddenly becoming girl who looked about eighteen. No?
See, we are very good at our job, but let me jog your memory.
It all began...
*****
"Sam, we've got a potential hot one," Maggie said as she entered my office.
"So I get to cool it down, hey, Mags?"
"That's what I like about you, Sam; always the wise guy."
We all got on well with Maggie; she was one hell of a boss.
"Get on down to Westview Hospital and ask for Dr. Jenkins. He's expecting
you and, after he has given you some background info, you can then interview
the victim," she told me.
"On my way. Who've I got for backup?" I asked.
"Better take Josie," Maggie replied. It could have been worse, Josie was a
very good agent and besides, she was cute.
I picked Josie up on the way out and we headed for Westview. It wasn't a
long drive and we started getting our thought processes in gear. Once at
Westview, we went to the main reception and asked for Dr. Jenkins. It took
about ten minutes for him to appear.
William Jenkins was a short, tired man who looked like he carried the cares
of the world on his shoulders. We showed him our ID and he took us into a
small office.
"What do you know, Agent Jay?" he asked.
"Nothing yet, Doctor," I replied. "We were told that you would give us the
background."
He nodded before starting. "At ten this morning, a thirty-year-old male was
admitted after collapsing. By midday he looked like an girl in her late
teens." Dr. Jenkins paused, drew a breath and continued. "He, or rather she,
is anatomically correct for a girl in her late teens. All the x-rays and
blood tests have confirmed it. I have never seen anything like it before,
although I have heard of such transformations."
"Where is the victim?" Josie asked.
"He's in a private room."
"Can we see him, Doctor?" Josie's follow up question beat mine by
microseconds.
"I'll take you to see him, but I suppose we really ought to say her." Doctor
Jenkins shook his head.
Outside the room were two police officers who were checking people's ID.
They first checked Dr. Jenkins' and then ours. I knew from the puzzled looks
that they didn't know who we were and one of them radioed in for
instructions. He was told, politely, to get off the air and get his ass to a
phone. Five minutes later, he was back and we were allowed in.
The room was unremarkable; it contained a bed and a chair, both of which
were occupied. On the bed was what looked like a young girl; a quick look
confirmed that she was under sedation. The chair supported what could have
been the girl's mother, her posture and tear lined face told both of us
plenty. Josie went to her, crouched down and spoke softly to her.
"Do you think you are up to having a word with us?" genuine compassion
flooded Josie's voice.
The woman nodded and we escorted her to another private room. On the way I
asked a nurse's aide to get some coffee for the woman. Once settled, Josie
started.
"What is your relationship to the victim?"
"I am his... er... her wife," she broke down into tears. We let them subside
naturally.
"Can you tell us your names?" Josie was keeping her voice soft.
"I'm Catherine Franks and my husband is, was, is John Franks."
"May I call you Catherine, Mrs. Franks?" Josie asked.
Mrs. Franks nodded. The coffee arrived. I thanked the aide and gave it to
Mrs. Franks. She took a sip and looked at me gratefully.
"Catherine, can you tell us what happened?" Josie was being very gentle.
"We'd both finished breakfast and John went to get the mail while I loaded
the dishwasher. Shortly afterwards, he collapsed and I dialed nine-one-one."
Catherine said.
"What was John doing before he collapsed?" I left the questioning to Josie.
"Nothing."
"Did anything unusual happen?"
Catherine thought about this, and then answered, "No."
"Catherine," Josie continued, "Think back and tell us exactly what John did
before he collapsed."
We waited while Catherine recalled the day's events. "We both had breakfast,
John fetched the mail, he opened what had arrived and then he collapsed."
"What did John have for breakfast?" Josie probed.
"Cereal, we both had cereal."
"The same cereal?"
"Yes."
"Did either of you have any coffee or tea?" I was keeping notes as Josie
gently probed.
"We both had fruit juice."
"The same fruit juice?" Josie asked.
"Yes."
"How many letters were there?
"Two, I think."
"Catherine, do you mind if we check your home, we need to find out what
occurred and how it happened?" Josie asked.
"No. Please find out what happened to John?" Catherine pleaded.
Catherine got the house keys from her bag and gave us an address in
Riverside. As she got up, tears began to flow again, Josie gave her a hug
and I heard her say, "Don't worry, we'll find the answer."
I called the office and arranged for a team to meet us at the Franks' home.
Traffic was as heavy as the atmosphere in the car.
"It must be awful for Catherine," Josie said.
"What about John?" I replied.
"Shit, you're right. They both have a hell of a time ahead of them."
"They are both going to need a lot of help, probably for a long time, to get
over this." I added gloomily.
Riverside turned out to be a very nice area. The Franks' home was located in
a well-maintained apartment building. The team hadn't arrived, so we spent
the time talking to the building superintendent.
"How often is the entrance lobby cleaned?" I asked.
"Every night," the super answered.
"So it hasn't been cleaned yet?"
"No."
"Good, I don't want it touched until I give the say so." I ordered.
"How long is that likely to be?" he asked.
"A day or two." I replied. "Is that camera connected to a recorder?" I
pointed to a video camera that was aimed at the door.
"Yes, it is."
"What is the tape rotation period?"
"Every eight hours," the super replied.
"How long do you keep the tapes?" I asked.
"A week."
"We would like to take the tapes, if that is okay with you, and could you
show my colleague where she can view some of the tapes?"
I turned to Josie. "Josie, I want you to fast view the last two tapes to see
if there is anything that can help us."
The super led Josie to an office and I inspected the lobby. Ten minutes
later, the team arrived and started to lug their equipment out of the van.
"Hi, Sam," the team leader said. "What we got?"
"Joe, nice to see you. Full scan of the apartment, not sure what we are
looking for, but better make it bio hazardous." I said and Joe winced.
"Sam, I think I've got something," Josie said as she came back into the
lobby.
"That's good."
"Got someone tampering with a mailbox," she said.
"Can you tell which one?" I asked.
"Think so, but it was definitely that group of three." Josie pointed to the
mailboxes.
"Joe, I want those three mailboxes checked and the doors removed and shipped
to the lab." I ordered. "Full bio hazard precautions, oh and do a bio scan
of the lobby," I added.
Joe nodded as I gave him the keys to the apartment.
"Joe," I paused, "This is serious, treat it as a level four threat. You have
full authority to use any resource you need. We'll get back to the office
and I'll arrange for a twenty-four hour police guard on the apartment. Keep
me informed and good luck."
Joe looked grim; a level four threat was deadly serious. The last level four
we'd had was the anthrax scares at the turn of the decade. Josie fetched the
tapes and we drove back to the office.
"You think it's that serious?" Josie asked.
"Josie, we have a healthy thirty-year-old male who is now a teenage female.
I'd say that was serious, but I'm just being cautious and we can always
downgrade later."
Back at the office, Josie turned the tapes over to a specialist viewing team
after detailing the area of interest. I sought out Maggie.
"Mags, I'd like to treat this as a level four threat," I said.
"You think it's that serious?" she asked
"I have no evidence as yet, but I suspect this was a bio incident and that
alone warrants the status. We can always downgrade if I'm wrong, but I'd
rather err on the side of safety," I said.
"Okay, we'll go with level four. It's easier to downgrade than upgrade and
if it was a bio incident then we will be prepared for the next one, if there
is a next one. You'd better use Peter as liaison," she replied.
"I think there will be another one. I don't know the reason behind the
incident yet and that worries me. Also, the victim and his wife will require
some serious help and I'd like you to authorize that."
"Okay, document what you think they need and I'll authorize it."
"Thanks, Mags." I replied.
I hunted down Josie to give her the news, and then got on with my initial
report and my recommendations for the Franks. I contacted NYPD and spoke to
the Commissioner.
"Afternoon, sir. Special Agent Jay, ATB."
"Afternoon, Agent Jay. What can I do for you?"
"Sir, the incident in Riverside has now been declared a level four threat
and I would like to have your department's support," I said.
"Damn, you think it's that serious?" the Commissioner asked.
"I don't know, sir, but I'd rather over react than be caught with our pants
down."
"Good point, I remember how long it took us to gear up for the anthrax
threat and I don't want that to happen again. Okay, what do you need?"
"I need a twenty-four hour guard on the victim's apartment, a full news
blackout and a liaison officer," I answered.
"Okay, come downtown and ask for Detective Evans," the Commissioner said.
"Thanks, I'll send Agent Peter Wells."
I hung up and called my opposite number in the FBI. They were our cover
organization, that's who the public believed we were, and I needed to keep
them up to date. Once finished, I went looking for Peter.
"Peter, the Franks' case is being treated as a level four threat. I want you
to go down to Police headquarters and ask for Detective Evans. He'll be our
liaison," I said. "I want to know about anything, anything at all, that
looks like it could be connected with the Franks' case."
"On my way, Sam," Peter said.
I wanted to contact Joe, but I knew he would be busy. A level four, bio scan
meant that you virtually ripped the place apart. I had an uneasy feeling
about this one. I contacted Westview and asked about the Franks' and was
relieved to hear that they were both better. That was the one part of this
job, I hated. Why do the innocent always have to suffer?
The worst part was the waiting. All of the specialist teams would be working
flat out to discover the cause. It would be another twelve hours, at least,
before the lab would issue a preliminary report and that would be very
brief. It could take over twenty-four hours before the lab would commit
itself.
I went over what we had, the victim collapsed after reading the mail, we had
video evidence of a mailbox being tampered with and nothing else.
"Sam."
"Anything, Josie?"
"Something Dr. Jenkins said got me thinking and I've done a little bit of
searching. Does the name HuggleBugs mean anything to you?" Josie asked.
"No, should it?"
"They claim to be able to change people's appearance. Their gender, Sam."
"Get onto them, I want to meet the head honcho now," I barked.
"Already onto it," Josie replied.
"Good work, Josie, very good work. What's the cover story?"
"Mmmm, how about a routine check on denial of service attacks?" Josie
replied.
"Could work, okay, let's try it."
Josie broke a few speed limits getting to the corporate offices of
HuggleBugs. It wasn't the large building I'd envisioned. On our way to the
entrance, I gave the area the once over. No cameras. The entrance lobby had
the same lack of cameras. We approached the reception desk, behind which a
buxom red head was talking on the phone. Her nametag indicated that her name
was Rose.
"Can I help you?" Rose asked.
"We'd like to see the president, please?" I replied, as we flashed some ID.
"Can I ask what it is about?"
"It's a routine check on denial of service attacks," Josie answered.
"I'll see if she's free," Rose said as she picked up the phone.
"She's tied up at the moment, can you make an appointment?" Rose told us.
"Miss... Rose, if your president doesn't see us, personally, in the next two
minutes, I'll have a team of investigators down here so fast, it will make
your head swim. While they are here, you'll be temporarily closed down. So
can you ask your president again, please?" I hoped the tone of my voice
would add to my threat.
Rose picked up the phone again and things started to happen. I heard the
rapid tap - tap of heels on a hard floor and saw a slim woman rapidly
descend the stairs and walk quickly over to us.
"Will you please follow me?" she said.
We followed her up the stairs and into a large office. She knocked on a
door, opened it and motioned us in. There we saw a dark haired woman with
fire in her eyes.
"How dare you threaten my company," she said as soon as the door was closed.
"I'm sorry, Miss ****, but it was the only way we could get to see you," I
said.
"It's Prue, we work on a first name basis here, and what is so important
that you frightened my receptionist?"
"At ten o'clock this morning a thirty-year-old man was admitted to hospital
after collapsing, by twelve he was a teenage girl. You may just be able to
help us," I stated.
"That sort of change is normal for our customers," Prue answered.
"As far as we know, he wasn't one of your customers and, to be honest, until
this afternoon, I didn't know this type of change was possible," I said.
"Can I get one of my staff to check on that?" Prue asked.
"I'd rather we keep this information on a need to know basis. We don't know
who or what is responsible and we'd like to keep the number of people in the
know down to a minimum," I replied.
"Our MD is responsible for the programming of our nanites."
"Nanites?" I asked.
"It's what we call the gizmos that perform the transformations," Prue
answered.