represented by Jordan and Hank, and the military, coordinated by Secretary Salitas. It will be known as Operation Guardian Eagle, and its goal will be the neutralization of what Genesis has done here tonight.”
“And what does that have to do with the military?” Tomlinson asked.
“The remaining Joint Chiefs of Staff will assist us with Guardian Eagle. But they will be strictly on a need to know basis, and my orders will be transmitted to them through Secretary Salitas. As of now, the only people to be made fully aware of Guardian Eagle are seated right here in this room. Is that understood? Good. Gary, I’m authorizing you to deputize any military, National Guard, or other federal law enforcement officials you deem necessary. FBI, NSA, CIA—you have all of our personnel and resources at your disposal.”
“Yes, sir,” Salitas said.
“I want a secure perimeter established around the entire Capitol complex. Station sharpshooters and flamethrowers facing every exit. Jordan will make sure you don’t miss any. Use barricades to establish a secondary perimeter to keep the public back. Use force if need be to accomplish that.”
“Understood.”
The president turned away momentarily, gathering his composure. When he turned back, his jaw was set, his lips bloodless.
“One more thing,” he said. “Anybody who leaves this building, and I mean
CHAPTER 8
Allaire understood, as did the others in the Hard Room, that the president of the United States had just used his power as commander in chief to authorize the cold-blooded murder of civilians. Disbelieving stares penetrated his defenses, and for a moment he sensed he might be close to breaking down. He flashed on a photograph of John Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis. From the many accounts he had read, it seemed that the young president handled the defining event of his administration with a steely outward resolve. Judge Prime Minister Nikita Khrushchev correctly and save the planet. Misjudge the man and millions get consumed in a nuclear firestorm.
But this crisis wasn’t about missiles. This was about WRX3883. And although President Jim Allaire’s decision to quarantine the Capitol had the potential to save millions from a raging pandemic, in all likelihood, he and his family weren’t going to be among them.
If only he had quashed the idea at the very beginning. If only he had simply listened to Dr. Sylvia Chen’s proposal and sent her away.
Allaire hoped that he looked like a man of strength and assuredness. If he lost control and the crowd in the House Chamber started to surge toward the exits, there was no telling what the virus floating in the air and taking root in their bodies would do in the outside world.
He could not allow that to happen.
He had to select words that would keep the crowd at bay. He had to choose how much information to share, and just how to say it.
But at the same time, he had to trust someone.
Kennedy had his brother Robert, members of the National Security Council, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Jim Allaire had the people in this room: the president’s physician, an architect, the head of the Capitol Police force, and Gary Salitas, who, along with the president, was the only one who knew the whole truth. Some of Allaire’s newly formed inner circle still looked stunned at his order for an instant kill. If they possessed full knowledge of the peril presented by the rogue virus, and they were about to, Allaire had the utmost confidence that each of them would take exactly the same course.
That logic, however, offered only cold comfort.
“Hank, I’m giving the Capitol Police full operational authority over our outer perimeter. This place has got to be sealed and sealed tightly. The virus we’re dealing with is highly contagious and infectious. There’s no telling what the consequences would be if it got loose.”
Tomlinson nodded, as did Jordan Lamar.
“With all due respect, Mr. President,” Tomlinson said, “you haven’t given us much information on what’s really happening here. I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect and serve our country, but sir, please, we can’t fight what we don’t understand.”
“Yes, of course, Hank.” Allaire again paused to solidify his composure. “What I am about to share with you goes beyond any security clearance for top-secret information. I’m trusting you to keep this confidential. To do otherwise could result in a panic with the potential for an incalculable loss of life. Can I trust you on this? Do I have each of your words?”
The group exchanged looks in a silent poll.
“You have our word, sir,” Tomlinson said.
Allaire nodded. For the first time since the previous group was assigned tasks and sent from the Hard Room, the president directly addressed his personal physician, Dr. Bethany Townsend.
“Dr. Townsend, do you recall the Kalvesta files?”
Bethany Townsend, petite, with a pretty smile and weathered face, creased her brow in thought.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “That goes back almost two years. You asked me to review the pathologist’s report. It was a family of five if I recall. No, six. A husband, wife, and their four children, all of whom expired at some point in their sleep. Carbon monoxide had been quickly ruled out as a possible cause.”
“Correct. They lived in a house that we supplied for them in Kalvesta, Kansas. The husband, Army Lieutenant Colonel Jeremy Jackson, worked at a top-secret Level Four biocontainment facility in Kalvesta. None of the Joint Chiefs of Staff out there is aware of the existence of such a facility. Gary?”
The defense secretary took up the narrative.
“There was limited and tightly controlled operational knowledge of our efforts in Kalvesta. Lieutenant Colonel Jackson’s wife believed her husband held a position with the Kansas Department of Wildlife and Parks. In reality, he was part of a team developing a new biological agent for the United States government. Because of the military implications of our work, I was the only Cabinet member fully informed of Kalvesta.”
“Go on, Gary.”
“If word of this research got out prematurely, we would have had a public relations nightmare on our hands. The biological agent we were developing had that much implication for our national security.”
“And just what agent was that?” Townsend asked, her expression suggesting she had just come upon the answer to her own question.
“WRX3883,” the president replied.
CHAPTER 9
Dr. Bethany Townsend’s expression was equal parts disbelief and fear.
“Are you implying that what killed the Jackson family is the same biological agent that we’ve all been exposed to?”
“Unfortunately, that is exactly what I’m saying,” Allaire replied. “Both you and the pathologist failed to
