Point of Control Read Online Free Page B

metals. China produced 95 percent of the world’s supply, and in the five months since it had stopped exporting, the shortage of gallium, indium, and dysprosium had become critical for computer and cell phone manufacturers. Other industries—such as electric cars, wind turbines, solar cells, and batteries—had been hit hard too. The US government was pushing to ramp up mining in American facilities, but the biggest problem was extraction, which was complex and expensive. Meanwhile, cell phone production everywhere except China had nearly come to a halt. The price of electronics had shot up, and in some cases, they were disappearing from retail shelves. The whole industry was in turmoil, and manufacturing companies were in a state of panic. The biggest problem was the lack of dysprosium, which had magnetic qualities and was used to make speakers, microphones, and hard drives. Because it was scarce and hard to extract, Bailey assumed companies and researchers had to be desperately trying to produce a replacement material, which was Bowman’s specialty. What if someone had coerced or kidnapped the scientists because they needed both of their vital skillsets or knowledge?
    But where was Thurgood? And why had they killed Bowman? If the kidnappers had known they were going to kill him, they probably hadn’t filed a flight plan. Still, the plane or helicopter had taken off from and landed somewhere, and she would investigate that.
    Bailey looked over Bowman’s body, noting his once-excellent muscle tone and appendix scar. “May I have gloves?”
    The ME hurried to grab some. Bailey pulled them on and lifted Nick Bowman’s right hand. “Anything under his fingernails?” She didn’t expect the scientist to have struggled.
    “No, but he was bound by his wrists, at least for a short while.”
    She’d noticed the red mark against the white skin on the inside of his wrist, one of the few places he wasn’t bruised. But she was interested in the skin condition of his palms. In the grooves was a brown discoloration, like a stain or burn. “Please test his hands for chemicals and tell me what you find. I want his toxicology as soon as possible.” She smiled and made a don’t-hurt-the-messenger gesture with her hands. “I know the blood work could take weeks, but you need to pressure the lab to prioritize this one.” She leaned toward Dr. Sharish and whispered, “This case is related to national security, and the bureau needs your full cooperation.”
    “Of course.” The ME blinked. “What chemicals? Was he making bombs?”
    “I can’t say, but you’ll be in the loop when I know more.”
    Bailey studied the corpse, searching every inch of his bruised and broken skin. “Let’s turn him over.”
    The ME started to protest, then clamped his jaw shut and stepped to the other side. They rolled the body so she could see his back. Not nearly as much bruising, but he still looked contorted by the broken bones. Bailey spotted a round reddish mark and leaned in.
    “That’s a burn,” the ME said. “Most likely from a stun gun.”
    Tasers had two prongs. “Where’s the second mark?”
    “His right leg, to the inside.”
    When had they stunned him? When they originally grabbed him? Or later, in the plane, to control him? The kidnappers’ MO was critical, especially if more scientists were at risk. She pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to Dr. Sharish. “Here’s my email address. Please send me the full autopsy report immediately. And I’d like the toxicology details in a few days.”
    He swallowed hard. “I’ll do what I can.”
    She hurried out, eager to talk to witnesses and dig into the investigation. Agents in the San Jose field office had filed a report, but she would go back over the same territory. The local agents hadn’t known what they were dealing with when Nick Bowman’s wife reported him missing, so they hadn’t asked the right questions, or enough questions. Investigators often