Viable Threat

by Julie Rowe

  “Oh…okay,” the woman said, letting go of Ava with obvious reluctance. “Please hurry.”

  “I will.” It was nothing less than a vow. She angled her body toward him and said in a voice that carried, “Follow me, Sergeant.”

  No one else stopped them as they made their way to the triage desk.

  Ava leaned down and asked quietly to the nurse, “Dr. Rodrigues?”

  “In the back,” was the equally quiet reply.

  “Who’s looking after the teen in the second gurney along the right wall?” Ava asked. “He’s in respiratory distress.”

  The nurse’s face reflected unwanted surprise. “We’re operating under crisis management protocols.” She glanced over her shoulder into the core of the ER. “All patient care plans are on the team care board.”

  “Thanks.” Ava was off like a shot.

  A short hallway led them to a bull-pen style setup with a double crescent of desks facing a perimeter of rooms arranged like spokes in a wheel around them. At one end of the desks was a narrow wall covered by a dry erase board. The board had been divided into a table containing patient, diagnosis, and treatment information. A diagram of the ER with room and gurney positions tagged with position codes had been propped up next to the board.

  There were a half-dozen people, all in hazmat suits, inside the crescents, fully engaged in their jobs. River recognized Dr. Rodrigues, but not the two men she was speaking with.

  No one seemed to have noticed Ava or him arrive.

  “Patient G-four is in respiratory distress,” Ava said loud enough to catch the attention of several people.

  “Dr. Lloyd,” Dr. Rodrigues began, speaking to the two men next to her, “collected all the possible location-zero samples. She’s a microbiologist and recently came to us from the World Health Organization. She has a knack for untangling outbreak patterns.”

  “I thought there’d been an explosion at that location,” one of the men said. “There were casualties.”

  “Not precisely,” Ava replied. “There was an explosion, but the only death occurred a few minutes before the actual blast.” She paused, then asked, “Patient G-four?”

  “I’ve got him,” a nurse said, with a grim smile. She rushed out, stethoscope in hand.

  “Please give me a few minutes to catch Dr. Lloyd up to speed,” Dr. Rodrigues said to the men, then slipped out from behind the desk. She waved at Ava to follow.

  River prowled right behind them. No way was he letting his mouse out of his sight in all this chaos.

  Rodrigues found an empty consultation room, directed them into it, then closed the door behind herself.

  She let out a deep breath. “We’re currently at one hundred and thirty infected, that we know of, with eighteen deaths.”

  That was shitty news.

  Ava stood a little straighter. She got down to business, didn’t complain, blame, or comment. Fuck, that was hot. “What’s the pathogen?”

  “Neisseria Meningitidis.”

  “Why is that a surprise?” Ava asked. “It was at the top of our suspect list when we first got the call.”

  “This one is different.” Rodrigues pressed her lips together until they were a thin white line. “It’s resistant.”

  Ava frowned. “Resistant to what?”

  “Everything.” She swallowed. “Henry tested it against ceftriaxone, ampicillin, chloramphenicol, and ciprofloxacin. Nothing works.”

  Holy shit, none of the antibiotics worked? Was this some kind of superbug?

  “That…” Ava shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  “We just sent samples off for multilocus sequence typing and serosubtyping an hour ago.”

  “A new strain?”

  “It would have to be to behave like it does. It’s killing people in just a few hours, causing high fevers, brain swelling, and respiratory arrest. Sometimes the swelling kills the patient, sometimes the respiratory distress kills them.”

  “The first case arrived in the ER at eleven this morning,” Ava said, staring at nothing. “Six people arrived with the same symptoms within minutes of each other.”

  River watched her talk and could almost hear the gears turning in her head.

  “The first death was at two in the afternoon. The count is now eighteen. Sixteen people in six hours? That’s a hell of an escalation.”

  Wow, she said hell. He’d have used stronger language. This situation was rapidly evolving into a catastrophe of monumental proportions against an enemy he couldn’t even see, let alone fight.

  “That’s why the state of emergency was declared. The governor is scared shitless. He didn’t even blink before giving the CDC the power to investigate, including directing law enforcement.”

  “So,” River said, thinking out loud. “If things continue to worsen, the CDC can take faster action and issue orders to all those law-enforcement agencies?”

  “That, too,” Rodrigues said, swallowing as if she’d eaten a mouth full of shit. “But it’s not going over well with Homeland Security or an interesting variety of politicians and government officials. I’ve never seen so many different people try to tie my hands. If the governor hadn’t given us the powers he did, I’d be hard-pressed to get anything useful done.”

  “Got any names?” River asked her.

  When she frowned at him, he grinned and said, “I like to keep score.”

  “Writing something like that down would be stupid,” Ava said.

  “I’ve got an eidetic memory,” he told her. “I don’t need to write it down.”

  “Useful,” she said, as if she admired his talent.

  “Yeah, you’d think so, but there are a few drawbacks.”

  She actually appeared to consider what those drawbacks might be, frowning at him, but shrugged after a moment before turning back to Rodrigues. “How is the infection transmitted?”

  “Coughing, we think. It’s not airborne for long, but long enough. It’s in every mucous sample from every patient we’ve tested. It’s extremely aggressive.” Rodrigues paced away, then returned. “I believe its pathogenicity was engineered.”

  Ava took a step back. “A biological weapon?”

  “The extreme rapid onset of symptoms and subsequent death can’t be an accident of nature. In a virus, yes, this kind of natural biological leap is possible, but in a bacteria…” Rodrigues shook her head. “Resistance develops over years, not months, and not to every antibiotic we’d normally use to treat it.”

  “There are a lot of crazies out there who’d love to let something like this loose on America,” River said. “A colonel with the Biological Response Team took out a terrorist last year whose goal was to wipe humanity off the face of the earth. Unfortunately, the nut job shared what he knew about weaponizing viruses and bacteria with at least five men who are still at large.”

  Ava stared at him as if he were the boogeyman. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

  “That information is confidential,” Rodrigues said with a sour expression for him.

  River crossed his arms over his chest. “Since you’re about to send us on a wild terrorist chase, she should know.”

  Chapter Seven

  8:15 p.m.

  Ava stared at River, then at Dr. Rodrigues. Was he right? Were they going to be hunting the person or people behind the outbreak and explosions?

  Gathering samples from a deserted location under the watchful eye of several law-enforcement officers was one thing. Seeking out the kind of people who could not only conceive of, but carry out these acts of mass murder…

  Her breathing stopped altogether for a moment before stuttering, painfully, back to life.

  Could anything be less safe?

  Her boss continued to glare at the soldier for another moment or two, then sighed and met Ava’s gaze. “He’s right. We have to know if this is a man-made pathogen or not. If it is something someone has created, I can’t send just anyone to investigate. I need people who know the science as well as the enforcement.
”

  River leaned toward Ava, his gaze darting right, then left in an exaggerated motion of his head, and stage whispered, “I’m the muscle, and you’re the brains.”

  Ridiculous and juvenile, but, with his clear declaration of them as a team, she could breathe again without pain.

  “Yeah,” she whispered back. “I got that, since I’m, you know, the brains.”

  The corner of River’s mouth tilted upward, and then he turned to Dr. Rodrigues. “Do we have an ID for the guy I shot at the coffee shop? He’d be a good place to start.”

  “Not yet, but I’m expecting that information in the next thirty minutes. Homeland Security was able to get some good pictures of him from the security cameras around the square.”

  “You talking with Dozer?”

  Dr. Rodrigues frowned at River. “Yes.”

  “Have you talked with an Agent Geer at all?”

  “That name isn’t familiar.”

  River grunted, but didn’t comment.

  “Ma’am,” Ava said. “Neisseria doesn’t require a hazmat suit. Will you be releasing the identity of the pathogen to the press and changing the appropriate safety protocols?”

  “Safety, yes, to a certain degree; identification, no,” Rodrigues said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Until we know the true scope of the bacteria’s pathogenicity, I’m not releasing anything other than the most basic information. An air respirator with at least a P100 filter should be worn by everyone, and gloves for those who might come into contact with others. Frontline medical staff in hazmat suits.” Rodrigues pointed at Ava and River. “You two will wear respirators and gloves, as will anyone assigned to work with you. I saw how that crowd reacted to your suits outside the coffee shop. Public panic is the last thing we need.”

  “Do you want us to help with triage while we wait for an ID on our dead terrorist?” River asked.

  “No. Prepare your equipment and eat while you have a chance.” She gave River her complete attention for a moment, taking a step toward him and angling her body so her back shut Ava out. “You are to be armed at all times unless and until I say otherwise. You don’t let Dr. Lloyd out of your sight. Her safety is your responsibility.”

  Ava managed not to snort at that. Fat chance she had of remaining safe in his company. Their investigation was inherently unsafe, which was almost as dangerous as her attraction to him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled.

  “I’ll contact you the moment I have that identification.” It was clearly a dismissal.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ava said, then turned and left the building by the same route they’d come in. They passed the teenager who’d been in respiratory distress, and his mother. His body was covered in a soiled sheet, and his mother was weeping uncontrollably on the floor next to the gurney.

  Her heart went out to the other woman, but she couldn’t let her emotions hijack rational thought. Things were going to get worse before they got better.

  River and she returned to the decontamination area and removed their hazmat suits. They were given respirators that conformed to the face for a good seal and had orange filters on either side of the mask, safety glasses, and surgical gloves.

  When Ava asked for spare respirators and gloves, Sarah only gave her a couple sets.

  “Until more supplies arrive, we have to ration.”

  “Where can we eat?” Ava asked.

  “There’s a clean room set up across the parking lot for staff to eat and sleep.”

  “Thanks.” Ava led the way.

  “Clean room?” River asked. “Portable?”

  “It looks like a giant marshmallow. Air coming in or going out is filtered through HEPA filters. Don’t be surprised if your ears pop once we get inside.”

  They walked around a couple of tents set up over crates of water and Meals Ready to Eat to find the air-filled construction.

  “An air lock?” River sounded surprised.

  “Yeah. The CDC doesn’t joke around.”

  They entered the air lock through a door that zippered open and shut. As they walked the short distance to the inner door, the air pressure became uncomfortable enough that she pinched her nose closed with the fingers of one hand and blew until her ears popped.

  River did the same.

  Inside the second door, the room was deserted, with only a few picnic-style tables and a half-dozen cots set up with blankets. To one side of the entrance was a stack of water bottles and MREs.

  Ava grabbed one of each and sat at one of the tables.

  River sat across from her, a crooked smile on his face. It suited him, gave him a rakish air that had her pulse speeding up. “You and I are partners.”

  She knew that. “So?”

  He leaned forward and asked, “How can I help you do what you need to do?”

  What?

  Ava had to force her jaw to close. He’d been ordered to work and support her, but this kind of open-ended question with no conditions—she hadn’t seen it coming.

  She scrambled to regain her composure. “My job is to locate the source of the infection as well as track and record the spread of the infection.” She shrugged. “It would help if you kept people out of my way and encouraged them to evacuate if the risk of infection is high.”

  “Clear away obstacles, crowd control, and bodyguard.” He nodded and leaned even closer. “Here’s what I need to do all that.” He paused.

  She sat forward.

  All trace of mirth left his face. “If I tell you to get down, run, or stop, don’t think, don’t ask questions, just do it.”

  What? “Do you believe I’m a target? Or is anyone dressed like me a target?”

  “Both. Neither. I’m not assuming anything but the worst-case scenario.”

  “What’s the worst-case scenario?”

  His face hardened into concrete. “More bombs, bugs, and bodies.”

  She waited for more, then realized his gaze had gone fuzzy, as if he were thinking hard and only seeing with his mind’s eye. His expression changed from one second to the next. Pain, anger, disgust, contempt, and more pain. His muscles stood out, as if he’d locked himself in place, but that control was costing him.

  Whatever he had in his head was horrible.

  What could be worse than what they’d seen already today?

  He had an eidetic memory, he’d said. She supposed it might be a sort of torture to not forget. It would take a very strong-willed person to compartmentalize the horror, to put it in a box and close the lid on it. She’d seen horrible things, but he had, too. War amplified horror.

  There was more to admire about this man than just his sexy voice and exterior.

  “Okay,” she said, opening her MRE. “I can follow your orders, if you can follow mine.”

  His gaze refocused on her face. “Then we’re in business.” He held out his hand.

  She put hers in it and they shook, once, twice.

  “We’re going to be so awesome as partners, you’re never going to want me to leave,” he said with a smug grin.

  She yanked her hand away. “It doesn’t matter how great we work together, that’s all we’re doing. Work. So, don’t get all territorial.”

  “It doesn’t have to be just work, you know.”

  Did he really want her, or was this a case of being the only woman around? “You call me a mouse, but I’m really just a lab rat.”

  His grin disappeared. “That’s not a nice way to talk about yourself.”

  “Look, I’ve tried the romance with a soldier thing. It didn’t end well.”

  River stared at her, his gaze searching hers for longer than she was comfortable. “He was an idiot. I am not one.”

  Wow, she was going to have to pull out the big guns. Regret softened her voice more than she wanted, but it had to be said. “He was my fiancé, and he died in the line of duty.”

  River’s stare froze. “Fuck.” He paused, his hands closing into fists. “Fuckity fuck fuck.�
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  She allowed her eyebrows to rise, but kept her response contained to that.

  “How long ago?” he asked after several seconds.

  “About a year.”

  He bared his teeth and leaned toward her again. “Allow me to repeat myself. I’m not him.”

  Oh, River.

  “He was Special Forces, too.”

  River exploded to his feet, jolting and freezing her in place. He paced back and forth in front of the table like a man who didn’t know what to do with himself.

  He stopped suddenly to pin her in place with a gaze so full of rage and despair it was a wonder that he didn’t explode. “He made you feel like a lab rat?”

  “No, not really. He just…” How could she explain it? “We’d been together for a long time. Our relationship was comfortable and safe. Only, it turned out that it wasn’t safe at all.” She swallowed down the grief and the guilt that always seemed to accompany it. “When he died…” She snorted a derisive laugh and looked at her hands. They were clenched together, her knuckles white.

  He sat again and covered her hands with his. “Look at me.”

  If he’d ordered or demanded, she’d have had an excuse to fight him, but his request was softly spoken, a request wrapped up in a plea.

  She met his gaze, and what she saw there jolted her again. So much pain and regret, as if he knew exactly how she felt. Felt it, too.

  “I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said, his tone turning his statement into a vow. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next hour, let alone the next few days, but I can promise this.”

  Her breathing came to an abrupt halt as she waited for him to finish.

  “I think you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and the smartest person I’ve met in a long time.”

  Her jaw dropped open.

  “I won’t lie to you or fudge the truth for your own good. I’m asking you to keep an open mind, Ava. That’s all.”

  The heat from his hands swept up her arms and through her with strength that made her face warm and her mouth say something completely different than what her brain was telling her to say. “I’ll think about it.”