by Julie Rowe
“Who is going to pay for all the pain, suffering, and death that will result if the government doesn’t step in? The federal government will go bankrupt if it’s taken to court—”
The volume cut out.
Carmen glanced at the SG, who had the remote in his hand again.
“Every news channel is the same,” he said, his face stony. “The talking heads are all calling for anti-virals, most of which haven’t gone through the appropriate processes to be approved by the FDA.”
“They should be urging people to stay home,” Carmen said, putting down her fork, her appetite gone. “Prevention is a thousand times better than trying unproven medications that aren’t a cure anyway.”
The SG studied Dozer and her with a single-minded focus; she could almost feel the hairs rising on the back of her neck.
Had she said the wrong thing?
Next to her, John sat up straighter. “You’ve got a plan, sir?”
“Not yet, but it’s coming to me. I need to make a few calls. The washroom is through there.” He pointed at a closed door in the back corner of the office. “Don’t go anywhere else.” His voice, cool but intense, strengthened the feeling something was coming that she wasn’t going to like.
“Sir?” she asked.
“Let me see if I can make this idea work before I involve anyone else.”
“By anyone,” John said, “do you mean us?”
The glance he gave John said her bodyguard guessed correctly. He pulled out his phone and made a call, then walked out of the office, closing the door behind himself.
The Surgeon General of the United States had just ordered her to stay in his office while he figured out a plan to deal with what might be the biggest health crisis facing the country in a hundred years. The food she’d eaten sat in the bottom of her stomach like a lead weight.
Carmen looked at what was left on her plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
John shoveled another bite into his mouth. “Eat. My oh-shit meter went off, which means you’re going to need it.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid you’re right.” She made herself eat another bite. It tasted like cardboard, but she swallowed it anyway. “He better not put me in front of a bunch of cameras.”
“Not a fan of press conferences?”
“No. They never ask the right questions.”
“Well, this is Washington. It’s more likely that you’ll end up talking to a bunch of old people who don’t have a clue about what needs to happen. Unfortunately, those old people are the ones who’ll make the decisions about our little health crisis.”
“Thanks,” she said drily. “I feel so much better now.”
He looked at her. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll have your back no matter what the SG decides.”
She glanced at him. He met her gaze with steady eyes. “How are your ribs? Your wound?”
He shrugged. “Sore, but only a two or three on the pain scale. Easily ignored.”
Ignored? “I envy your ability to compartmentalize things.”
He snorted. “Is that a nice way to say I don’t listen?”
“No.” She paused. “I don’t think so. I just wish I could put some things out of my mind.”
“That’s a strength. Being able to see the whole picture.”
“Well,” she said, pushing the plate away. There was no way her stomach was going to let her eat another bite. “The picture I’m seeing in my head is damn scary.”
“So think outside the box.”
“Oh, I threw the box out a long time ago. I think that unless we’re very careful, this is going to end in only one place.”
“What place is that?”
She just looked at him. She didn’t want to voice what she thought was going to happen. Didn’t want to give it any power over her thinking or his.
He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “No, that’s not going to happen.”
“There’s a school of thought that has been saying it’s just a matter of time. Disease has always been one of nature’s ways of controlling the population. We’re long overdue for a correction.”
“Helped along by terrorists or, more likely, an angry virologist?” He sounded even more certain. Cold, exact, confident.
“The trigger could be anything or anyone. That’s not important. What is important is the reality that if this disease isn’t stopped from spreading any more than it already has, nothing we do is going to be able to stop it.”
“Wait. Wait, wait,” he said, putting his hands up as if he were trying to stop traffic on a freeway. He stared at her, but his focus seemed on the thoughts racing through his head, a cognitive dance she could only watch until he revealed them. “Can’t we create a new vaccine to cover this variant?”
“Creating a vaccine doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a complicated process, compounded by the fact that this is a completely different strain of the virus. If our second test group doesn’t do well…”
“So you’re saying…the situation is hopeless?”
She sighed. “That is a distinct possibility.”
“Shit.”
3:37 p.m.
Carmen woke with a start.
The SG shut the door, then strode across the room toward his desk. He glanced at her, and, though his expression didn’t change, his body was too tense for good news.
John was still out, and they’d slept for…twenty minutes?
Okay. Good. That was good. Long enough to rest, but not long enough to fall into a deeper sleep.
She put her hand on John’s thigh. “John, wake up.”
His eyes opened, and he put a hand over hers, pressing it tightly against his leg. He lifted his head, scanned the room, then released her hand slowly.
“Nice nap?” the SG asked without looking up from reading whatever was on his tablet.
“Yes, sir,” Carmen said. “Do you have anything for us, or can we go back to Orlando?”
A smile did flash across his face this time. It made the hair on the back of her neck rise. “I want you to hold a briefing.”
The bottom of her stomach disappeared into the center of the earth. “Sir?”
“In thirty minutes, you’re going to explain what’s going on to the Surgeon Generals of every state of our nation. It’ll be via video conference. All of them will be able to see you, but you will only be able to see a few of them at one time.”
Sure, no pressure there. “Sir, what am I supposed to tell them?”
“Give them the latest numbers. The hard truth. Then, tell them the moment they have reported cases of measles in their state, they need to tell people to stay home. Essential personnel on the roads only.”
She could not have heard that correctly. “You want every state to set up its own quarantine?”
“No. I want them to do everything just short of a statewide quarantine. Curfews, shelter in place, states of emergency, even, but not a quarantine. Not at this time.”
Holy crap. “Sir, I’m not prepared. I need time to talk to my people, obtain all the data, see how the effort to untangle the virus has progre—”
“That’s too much information,” he told her. “The basics, Dr. Rodrigues. Keep it simple and short. Make sure they understand at the end of the briefing that they’re to maintain law and order within their jurisdictions and treat the sick with every resource at their disposal.”
“But no anti-viral medications are available at this time?” Carmen asked.
“Correct.”
She stared at the SG’s face and wished she’d stayed in Orlando.
The SG’s lips twitched upward. “You’re just senior enough to have clout, but not senior enough to know all the answers they’re going to demand.”
“They can’t bully you into giving them what you don’t have,” John added.
She almost rolled her eyes. Plausible deniability had always felt like a cop-out to her.
“There’s an escort waiting for you outside,” the SG said. �
�You are to return to this office when your briefing is concluded.”
“How long should it take?” she asked.
“Short and simple,” he said. “Ten minutes tops.”
John leaned over and said, “Then get the fuck out.”
Their escort drove them to the Pentagon, which surprised her. They had to pass two security checkpoints before they reached the room where she would deliver her briefing.
It wasn’t empty. Aside from the audio-visual equipment, there were a half dozen military officers. All of them wore impatient expressions.
Next to her, John straightened, standing a fraction taller than he’d been. She wanted to laugh. You could take the man out of the Army, but you couldn’t take the Army out of the man.
“Do you recognize anyone?” she asked him softly as they walked toward a small podium facing a video camera.
“Yeah, two of them are on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The guy in the suit on the far left is the National Security Advisor.”
This was an audience she wasn’t prepared to deal with. People on the other end of a digital connection was one thing; having officers who would decide what might or might not save the lives of thousands of soldiers was quite another.
Her breathing shallowed, and her vision got a little fuzzy at the edges. “The Surgeon General left a couple of things out,” she said. Or had she just thought those words?
John leaned closer and whispered, “Sneaky bastard.”
She had to suppress a laugh, and something in her head flipped back to the on position. The world snapped back into focus.
Work the problem. Let the people figure themselves out.
“Good…”—What time was it? She checked her watch—“…afternoon, everyone. Give me two minutes to get organized, and then we can begin.”
A couple of the hard expressions directed her way relaxed a fraction. Military people appreciated competence and efficiency.
A young soldier manned the video camera while she pulled up the latest numbers on the outbreak. They’d jumped since she’d last checked. Again. Some of her confidence bled away.
Nope. Not going to let worry or panic take the reins.
“You’ve got this,” John said to her with an encouraging smile.
She let out a breath, nodded at the young man, and began to speak.
4:43 p.m.
Dozer listened to Carmen providing all the latest numbers on the outbreak.
32,467 confirmed cases in the entire country.
13,000 hospitalized in the entire country.
586 deaths in the entire country.
She told them about the virus itself, the ineffectiveness of anti-virals, and the fact the virus was manmade.
No one said anything or even reacted until she began recommending action plans. What they could and couldn’t do, including curfews, shelter-in-place orders, states of emergency, and quarantine.
She got some push back on her suggestions but handled it well. The SG was right—she was the perfect person for this briefing. Everyone took her at her word when she said she didn’t have more information or more authority to make sweeping decisions. If they had an issue, they could take it up with the SG, but her tone clearly said the SG would be impossible to reach.
After thanking everyone for their time and attention, she ended the video conference.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff sat back in his chair and said, “That was a nicely sanitized, carefully worded speech. How about giving us the quick and dirty one?” He made the question sound like a command.
Carmen looked at him, then at the others all watching her with the same hard-edged expressions.
“I only provide information one way, gentlemen,” she said, sounding unimpressed with his order. “Dirt has no place in it.”
The general leaned forward. “Is this outbreak a threat?”
“It is,” she agreed.
“How do we stop it?”
Dozer cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him, including Carmen. He ignored everyone else and said to her, “Practical suggestions.” He smiled wryly. “Short and simple.”
She looked at their audience, took in a breath, and said, “Airports, hospitals, malls, schools, restaurants—anywhere people travel to and from and congregate—are where this virus is going to move from infected to uninfected. If I were in your place, I’d sequester everyone right where they are. As little population movement as possible.”
“Is it really as easy to catch as you say?” someone else asked.
“Yes.” She tilted her head to one side. “Let me put it another way. One contagious person will infect ninety percent of the people they come into contact with. There’s no miracle drug, no quick fix. This outbreak will cost us lives and money we can’t afford. All we can do is mitigate the damage as best we can.”
“Have you done a projection?” the general asked.
“I’d be surprised if someone hasn’t, but I’m unaware of any. The numbers are changing fast.” She paused, then continued, “We’re still learning about this virus. We don’t know yet if it has any weaknesses we can exploit.”
“But you’re looking for weaknesses?”
“Yes.” She stopped speaking to look at each man in the room.
Smart, smart woman. She kept any suspicions to herself and only voiced the facts. Something these old soldiers could understand and respect.
“Does the Surgeon General have your contact information?” the general asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Expect me and some of these other gentlemen to be added to your contact list. Dismissed,” he said, getting to his feet. He didn’t salute, but Dozer found his back straightening all on its own.
Carmen glanced at him, and he nodded at her to follow him.
Outside, their escort waited for them. The man led the way toward the vehicle they’d taken to get to the pentagon.
Two men dressed in dark suits approached them from the left. Dozer slid over so he was covering her left side, blocking any possibility of direct contact.
“Dr. Carmen Rodrigues?” one of the men called out when they were still about ten feet away.
“Don’t answer,” Dozer whispered in her ear. “Don’t react, just keep walking.”
“Dr. Rodrigues?” the man asked again, louder.
Eight feet away. Seven. Five.
Their escort stopped, put one hand on his service weapon, and extended the other, palm up and out. “Stop.”
The two men came to a halt, both of them trying to catch Carmen’s eye. She looked everywhere but at the two men. Scanning the parking lot for more hostiles?
Damn, that was sexy.
One of the men took a step forward and held out his hand. “We’d just like to talk for a moment, doctor.”
Dozer pulled his Beretta. Their escort did the same.
“Go through channels,” Dozer said. “She’s not going to chat out here in the open.”
One corner of the man’s lip rose in a flash of a sneer. “We just want to have a conversation.”
“No,” Dozer said in an almost-friendly tone. “Move away.”
The second man chuckled, but it was strained. If just seeing a gun pointed at the ground ruffled his feathers, he wouldn’t last a day in a real combat situation.
“What are you going to do, kill us? We haven’t done anything but request a conversation.”
“You’re right,” Dozer agreed. “I won’t kill you, but I will shoot you.”
The two men dropped their friendly facade.
“This conversation is being recorded,” one of them said.
“Really? When were you going to tell us that?” Dozer asked. He studied them for another moment. “You’re not reporters.” He watched them stiffen slightly. “You’re lobbyists from…” He paused, watching their body language. “Big pharma.”
Both men shifted their weight on their feet.
Bingo.
“Doctor,” Dozer said, turning his head sligh
tly so Carmen could hear him clearly. “Please take a photo of these gentlemen.” Though that description of them was stretching the truth.
“You can’t do that,” they both said.
“You’re recording this, aren’t you? Quid pro quo.”
One of the men tried smiling again. “A simple conversation is all we’d like to have.”
“If it were simple, you wouldn’t be recording it,” Dozer said.
The soft snick of a phone taking pictures just behind him made him very happy.
“Dr. Rodrigues,” the other one said, his voice full of false promises, “we’d very much like to help you control this outbreak.”
“You believe you can?” Her voice was colder than an Antarctic winter.
“We’re certain we can’t make a bad situation worse.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s all over the news,” the first man said. “A new version of measles with a higher hospitalization and death rate. A strain you’re powerless to stop.”
“You have something you think will prevent or cure the measles.”
He shrugged. “We think it will.”
Sirens blared, and military police cars sped around a corner and came to a halt, blocking any escape.
Dozer holstered his weapon, but their escort didn’t. Military police got out of the two Jeeps and came toward them.
It took a few minutes to sort things out, but the MPs confiscated the tiny remote video camera attached to the mouthy one’s tie clip. Where the feed landed was anyone’s guess. The MPs escorted the two squawking lobbyists off Pentagon grounds.
“What do you think they wanted to talk to me about?” Carmen asked once they were on their way back to the SG’s office again.
“Probably wanted you to advocate for their anti-viral meds or some other expensive drug they own the rights to.”
“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “That’s what I think, too.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m sending the photos I took to you, the SG, and the CDC director.”
“Good,” Dozer said to her. “It would be good to know who those two work for and what they were trying to sell.”
Carmen was silent for a few moments, then asked, “How did they know who I was and where I would be?”