by CW Browning
“Wait, what?!” Tito stared at him, shocked. “Why haven't I heard about it?”
“If you pulled your head out from under that hood once in a while, you would have,” Dominic retorted. “It's all over the news. A four-alarm fire destroyed three condos and half the building.”
“Who the hell would do that? He's a Fed!”
“Someone who doesn't care,” Dominic answered.
“You think it was the cartel?” Tito asked, staring at his boss.
Dominic shrugged.
“They're ballsy enough to do it,” he murmured. “It could be a message.”
Tito shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
“This isn't good,” he muttered. “What do you want me to do?”
“Check out that junk yard up north and pray for some luck,” Dominic told him after a moment of thought. “If we don't recover that package in the next twenty-four hours...”
He didn't need to finish. They both knew what would happen.
“And the girl?”
“Keep looking.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Viper glanced at her watch as she pressed the bell with her knuckle. A loud, standard ding-dong chimed through the small, one-level rancher. It was just after five-thirty and the sun was almost gone, painting the sky with the final brush strokes of deep purple turning to navy. In a few more weeks, the days would start getting longer, but the last, stubborn fingers of winter were holding on, even out here in West Virginia.
Alina glanced around the quiet neighborhood. She was standing in a development of cookie-cutter, slab-mounted ranchers where the expansive yards were three times the size of the houses. The grass met the street with no curbs to break it, and each house had a long propane tank in the side yard. She supposed she should be thankful that the rental car from the airport was parked on a cement driveway, given the dirt drive three houses down. She shook her head. While it had all the appearance of being a civilized community, Alina couldn't shake the expectation of hearing the General Lee sound its horn and come tearing down the road.
Movement behind the front door brought her attention back to the house. The door swung open and Alina got her first look at Dr. Leonard Krupp. It took her no time at all to find him. Even though there were several scientists at the CDC headquarters in Morganville who matched his qualifications, only two were on the ground in Africa during the Ebola outbreak: Dr. Sally Mitchell and Dr. Leonard Krupp. The man standing in front of her won by sexual default.
“Dr. Krupp?” Alina asked, taking in the slender, six-foot frame in one glance.
“Yes?”
“I'm Raven Woods. We spoke on the phone earlier,” Alina introduced herself and held out her hand.
Dr. Krupp pushed his black-rimmed glasses up on his nose and eyed her outstretched hand uncomfortably. He nodded, lifted his own in an awkward half-wave, and motioned her inside. Alina dropped her hand with a faint twitch of her lips and stepped into the house.
“Yes, yes, come on in,” he said, closing the door behind her. “You're an associate of Mr. O'Reilly, you said?”
“Of sorts,” Alina agreed vaguely, looking around the narrow hallway she found herself in. The floor was aged linoleum made to look like parquet and the walls were covered in what appeared to be a Waverly print wallpaper circa 1980. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Of course, of course!” Dr. Krupp waved a hand dismissively and moved around her in the narrow hallway. “I was expecting to see someone soon enough, given the nature of the substance. Come on in.”
He took a few steps into a larger living room and Alina followed. At least, she assumed it was the living room. It was hard to tell with the waist-high piles of books, binders and file boxes that created a kind of maze throughout the room. There was a couch along one wall, but it was covered with more assorted papers, books and what looked like an old dusty telescope that hadn't been touched in months. An elevated mound of manuals and spiral-bound notebooks indicated that a coffee-table lurked in front of the couch, but it was completely obscured by stacks of cardboard file boxes. Alina blinked, glancing around. Every available surface had some assortment of paper, books or equipment piled onto it, and none of it looked as if it had been touched in months, or even years.
“Watch your step,” Dr. Krupp said over his shoulder, leading the way along a narrow path through the stacks. “When Patrick called and told me he was sending someone down with a sample to analyze, I have to say I was skeptical it would turn into anything interesting. People are always mistaking various compounds for mutated forms of diseases. You'd be amazed.”
Alina followed him through the maze, careful not to touch or bump any of the precariously balanced piles.
“I'm sure I would,” she murmured.
“But this, this turned out to be well worthwhile,” he continued, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Is Mr. O'Reilly coming as well?” Dr. Krupp stopped abruptly and turned to ask the question, pushing his glasses up on his nose again. Alina pulled herself up short to prevent running into him and shook her head. “Pity. Still, I suppose a Secret Service Agent has more important things to do.”
He turned and continued walking and Alina shook her head, following. Michael certainly hadn't been exaggerating when he said the genius doctor was interesting. In fact, Alina made a mental note to commend him on his newfound diplomacy next time she saw him. His time in Washington was paying off indeed if the only word he found to describe Dr. Krupp was interesting. She could think of quite a few more, with eccentric topping the list.
“He's very busy,” she told Dr. Krupp's back. “Have you made progress?”
“Progress?” Dr. Krupp glanced over his shoulder, his eyes alight with excitement. “Oh yes! It's really quite fascinating!”
Alina followed him out of the labyrinth that was the living room and into a surprisingly large and spotless kitchen. She breathed a silent sigh of relief and looked around the spacious kitchen. Two large bay windows would let in copious amounts of light during the day, and a table with four chairs was positioned between them. Overhead fluorescent lighting flooded the room with a white light and Alina noted the door on the far end that led into another hallway.
“You haven't discussed it with anyone, have you?” Alina asked.
Dr. Krupp looked at her as if she had three heads.
“Of course not!” he exclaimed. “I haven't had time. I've been working on it since your friend brought it to me. I have a lab out back in the shed. Would you like a drink? I have some sweet tea.”
“I....” Alina started to decline, but then saw the hopeful look in his eyes. Somehow, she didn't think Dr. Krupp got many visitors. “I'd love some sweet tea.”
He nodded happily and turned toward the cabinets above the gleaming counters. Alina noted the stark contrast between the almost sterile kitchen and the living room they had navigated and pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“Patrick will be gratified to know that his suspicions were correct,” Dr. Krupp said as he pulled two tall glasses from the cabinet. “I tried calling him this afternoon, but I couldn't reach him.”
“Can you explain to me exactly what you've found?” Alina asked, walking over to the back door on the far side of the kitchen. She glanced outside at the steps leading down to a cement patio. The back garden was expansive and enclosed by a tall white-washed fence. Towards the bottom was a large shed, presumably the lab Dr. Krupp had mentioned.
“Do you have an understanding of infectious diseases?” Dr. Krupp answered with his own question, turning to the refrigerator.
“Not really,” she replied, turning away from the back door and looking at him. “Just give me a layman's overview.”
“Well, that's rather difficult, you see,” he said, pulling out a glass pitcher filled with tea. “It's very complex.”
“Just do your best.”
He glanced up at the tone in her voice and nodded almost automatically.
“Very well,�
� he agreed, pouring tea into the two glasses. “You understand how Ebola is spread?”
“Yes, through bodily fluids.”
He nodded and turned to put the pitcher back into the fridge.
“That's right. It can also be transmitted through bats and primates, but the most common spread once a human is infected is through fluid,” he said. “Mucous, semen, blood, all of these will transmit the disease to another human. So, until now, in order to be infected, a person had to have direct contact with an infected subject.”
“Until now?” Alina repeated softly.
Dr. Krupp walked over and handed her one of the glasses, his brown eyes serious behind his glasses.
“Yes. You see, I've tested the antidote Michael gave me against every known strain of Ebola that we have and it doesn't match any of them,” he explained. “When I examined the components of the antidote itself, I found some strange anomalies that suggest this isn't an antidote at all. It is the disease.”
Alina stared at him impassively, her mask firmly in place.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“This antidote has the Ebola virus embedded in it,” he told her, sipping his tea. “It's quite brilliant, actually. On initial testing, I didn't detect it at all. However, twelve hours after being introduced to human blood cells, it becomes detectable and begins to mutate the host cells.”
Alina sank down into a kitchen chair, her mind spinning as she sipped the impossibly sweet tea.
“What happens when the host cells begin to mutate?” she asked apprehensively.
“That's where it's really clever,” he said, seating himself in another chair. “It will take weeks of testing to confirm, but I believe once the cells begin mutating, the whole virus changes. It becomes airborne.”
“What?!” Alina exclaimed, setting her glass down with a clink and staring at him.
He nodded soberly.
“It would be devastating. It would spread as rapidly as the common cold or flu. An infected subject would just have to sneeze or cough and the virus would be out there.”
He sipped his tea while Alina absorbed that information. For someone who just discovered the next plague, he was absurdly calm. It took a moment for Alina to realize it was doubtful the doctor knew just how much of the virus was out there in the hospitals.
“You said it takes twelve hours for the virus to show itself,” she said slowly. “How long before symptoms emerge?”
Dr. Krupp shrugged.
“I would need a live subject to determine with any certainty,” he answered. “However, I can tell you that the host in my lab has been infected for over twenty-nine hours now and hasn't shown any significant signs of deterioration yet.”
“Can you venture a guess?” Alina pressed urgently.
“This is all speculation, you understand,” Dr. Krupp protested, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Without extensive testing, this is just a hypothesis.”
“I understand, but what would you expect?”
“Well, given the rate of delay in the virus showing itself and the rate of cellular mutation, I'd say...perhaps...four or five days before symptoms became pronounced,” he said slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “Of course, it could be more if conditions were not ideal, or conversely, less if the subject is not healthy to begin with.”
Viper sucked in her breath and stared at him. A week? It could take a week before symptoms would become apparent? That meant anyone infected would be out in public, spreading the disease like a common cold for a week before they knew anything was wrong with them. A chill streaked down her spine. Devastating didn't even come close to describing the possibilities.
“Once the symptoms are apparent, is there a cure?” she asked softly.
Dr. Krupp looked at her.
“Cure?” he repeated incredulously. “There is no cure for Ebola, Ms. Woods. All that can really be done is to try to quarantine the outbreak and keep the infected subjects hydrated. If you can prevent the organs from shutting down, and the host has a good immune system already, there's a small chance they will survive. However, once symptoms present, the mortality rate is well over seventy percent, and it's significantly higher in children and elderly patients.”
“You said it only becomes airborne after twelve hours inside the host cell?” Alina asked suddenly. “Before that, it's not?”
“No.” Dr. Krupp finished his tea. “I tried to aerosolize it and it couldn't penetrate the host cell. It definitely has to be injected directly to start the virus.”
Alina nodded, somewhat relieved. She was just lifting her glass of tea to her lips when a chill of awareness shot down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck bristled in response. Her eyes narrowed and Viper set the glass down softly, her eyes going straight to the bay windows. The sun was almost gone now and long, deep shadows were reflected in the glass.
She stood up, her gut tightening, and looked at Dr. Krupp. Before she could say anything, the doorbell echoed through the house and Dr. Krupp raised his brows in surprise.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Viper asked quickly.
“Just you,” he answered, standing. “I wonder who it could be.”
“Wait!” Viper reached out and grabbed his arm as he started toward to the living room. He looked at her in surprise. “Is there a view of the front of the house without going to the door?” she asked, reaching behind her and unsnapping the holster at her back.
“Well, you can see the porch from the spare bedroom,” Dr. Krupp said slowly. “It juts out of the end of the house. But why can't I just go to the door?”
“I just want to be safe,” she replied grimly, nodding toward the hall she assumed led to the bedrooms. “Show me the spare room.”
He stared at her for a beat, then nodded and turned to go down the hallway. The front doorbell rang again, longer this time, and Viper shook her head. Whoever was out there knew someone was home. Lights were on, cars were in the drive. They only had a few moments.
She followed the doctor down the back hallway quickly, passing the opening to the short hall leading to the front door. As she glanced toward the front door, Alina saw why they went through the living room when she arrived instead of using the hallway. Two large buckets were in the middle of the hall, blocking the way, and a quick glance up showed a large wet patch on the ceiling.
“A storm came through the other day and the roof started leaking,” Dr. Krupp said over his shoulder as they passed the hallway. “Someone's coming tomorrow to look at it.”
They continued down the back hall rapidly until they came to a closed door at the end. Dr. Krupp opened it and stepped inside. He was reaching for the light switch when Viper stopped his hand.
“No lights.”
He stared at her.
“Who do you think is out there?” he demanded, dropping his hand away from the light switch.
“I don't know,” she answered, striding toward the side window facing the front of the house. “But given what you've discovered so far, I don't trust uninvited guests.”
She stood to the side of the window and motioned for him to stay where he was. Lifting her hand, Viper moved the curtain just enough to peek outside.
A black Chevy Equinox was parked in the driveway behind her rental, effectively blocking both her and Dr. Krupp's vehicles. Two men stood on the porch and another one was just rounding the far side of the house, heading toward the back. As she watched, one of the men reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun, cocking it and nodding to his companion.
Viper glanced at the street and noted a dark sedan parked further down, within view of the house.
“Well?” Dr. Krupp demanded, a note of impatience in his voice.
Viper let the curtain fall back into place and turned to swiftly cross the room to the other window on the opposite side.
“They're not here for a social call,” she answered him shortly.
“How do you know?” he asked. “You can't possibly know that.�
��
Viper ignored him and glanced out the other window. This one gave her a view of the street in the opposite direction and, in the last vestiges of light from the sinking sun, she could see that it was clear. She turned away from the window. At least they had an exit.
“Trust me,” she said, striding back to the doctor. “They're not friendlies.”
“Friendlies?” he repeated in confusion. “What do you...” He stopped abruptly at the sound of shattering glass from the back of the house. “What was that?!”
“The back door,” Viper answered calmly, reaching behind her and pulling out her .45. Krupp stared at the weapon, his eyes getting wide. Another crash sounded and she grabbed his wrist. “That was the front door,” she added. “I told you they weren't here on a social call.”
“Oh my God,” he exclaimed. “What do they want?”
Viper pulled him over to the side window and pushed it up.
“You.”
She raised the screen and glanced outside, scanning the side yard. Not seeing any movement in the shadows, she turned and pulled him forward.
“Me?!”
“Yes,” she answered grimly. “You have to go out the window.”
Another crash sounded, this time from inside the house, followed by a curse. Viper's lips twitched. Someone had tumbled over the buckets. A muffled thud followed from the living room, then the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway.
“Hurry!” she hissed, pushing him. “You have to get out!”
Dr. Krupp nodded and pushed his glasses up on his nose as he hoisted a leg over the window sill.
“What about you?” he asked, looking at her.
“I'm right behind you,” she answered. “Head away from the house and stay in the shadows.”
He nodded and lifted his other leg over the sill, disappearing out the window a second later. Viper waited until he cleared the window, then glanced at the open door of the room. The footsteps were closer now, one set going into another room while the other came towards her. They were looking through each room as they moved through the house, but one was coming straight for the spare room. Viper knew she only had a second before someone came through the door. Flipping the safety off her weapon, she swung one leg over the window sill, keeping her eyes on the door. A shadow fell across the doorway and she swung her other leg over, balancing on the sill. Viper dropped out of the window, disappearing from view as the intruder stepped into the darkened room.