Nate leaned back against the leather seat and focused on the mission. “Alex, you and I will gear up and go in. Our suits and breathing gear are good for thirty minutes of exposure. Let’s make the best of it. I’ll take soil samples every twenty feet. We’ll need samples from several of the animals. I’ll especially want biological samples of the calf. Depending on how big this area is, we may need to split up. Use the standard hazardous-material protocol. We’ll seal the gathered samples on the site, seal them again just outside the site, and then a third time to ensure we don’t have any issues. All of this goes back to the level-4 containment area back in Quantico. Any questions before we get there?”

“Just one,” said Alex. “If this is some kind of nerve agent, how the hell did it get there?”

Nate frowned. “I have no idea.”

###

As Juan walked into a seedy lounge at the outskirts of Arlington, the thick aroma of greasy fried food and beer reminded him of his college days. A welcome reminder of less-troubled times.

He took a seat at the counter, and a middle-aged, large-breasted bartender flashed him a gap-toothed smile. “Anything you want, honey?”

“How about a Budweiser?”

“Coming right up.”

Juan stretched his arms toward the ceiling and heard his back crack as the tension slowly leaked out of him.

It was only five p.m., so unsurprisingly, the place was fairly empty—though Juan had no doubt that in a few hours, the place would fill with serious drinkers, raucous laughter, and maybe even the occasional fistfight. It was that kind of dive.

The door opened, and two men in suits walked in. The same men who’d been following Juan around all day. Or at least, he assumed they had. He’d only noticed them one other time, when he was getting gas. The guy with the close-cropped platinum-blond hair was hard to miss.

Juan’s guess was they were AgriMed security assigned to watch over him. He considered waving them over to join him at the bar, but figured they’d decline. They were probably supposed to keep their distance.

The bartender slid the beer over to Juan and asked, “Honey, did you want me to run you a tab? If not, that’ll be four dollars”

Juan sipped at the icy cold beer and laid a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change.”

She scooped up the money as Juan stared at soundless images on the screen.

As he was taking a sip, a “Breaking News” banner appeared on the TV hanging over the shelves of liquor, and a local reporter appeared, standing outside the coroner’s office. Juan read the closed-captioning text as it crawled across the screen.

“The coroner has determined that poisoning was the cause of death for the three people found dead on Tuesday at their home in Arlington.