“Actually, my current plan is to seek cooperation from the Committee on Rules, in hopes that they will grant privileged status to a special rule for a specific legislative measure that I intend to bring to the House floor for consideration.”

Allaire looked appalled.

“I’ve had enough of your antics, Ursula,” he exclaimed. “We’re involved in a deadly crisis of unparalleled scope, and you have been nothing but an impediment to resolving it.”

Ellis urged herself not to become rattled.

“Well, I’m afraid, Mr. President, that the rules of the House preclude your displeasure from interfering with permitted congressional business. Besides, you are in no position to be combative with me. That will only cause you trouble. Just ask your Dr. Townsend, here.”

Allaire turned to his physician, concern drawing a shadow across his face.

“What is she talking about, Bethany?”

Townsend shuffled her feet and struggled to make eye contact with the president.

“I … have some serious concerns about your ability to control your emotions,” Townsend responded, “especially your temper.” She paused to give Ellis a venomous stare. “I witnessed your outburst myself, and as is my duty to the country, I brought my concerns to the attention of Vice President Tilden and the speaker of the house.”

“Why would you do that?” Allaire asked with the sting of betrayal evident in his voice.

“You know what infection with the WRX virus can do to any of us. It could become incumbent on them to initiate the proceedings.”

“By proceedings,” Allaire said, now straining to remain calm, “you mean my forcible removal from office.”

Townsend nodded somewhat sheepishly.

“You demonstrated behavior that you, yourself, had warned me about, sir.”

Ellis’s inward smile broadened.

“Yes, Mr. President,” she chimed in, “you never told most of us, but you warned Dr. Townsend and your inner circle about the true dangers of this virus. Isn’t that correct?”

“What are you talking about?” Allaire demanded.

“Why, the virus,” Ellis said saccharinely. “I’m talking about the dreadfully lethal virus you called the flu—the virus that is going to kill us all unless somebody does something drastic.”

“It is not always lethal,” Allaire countered.

“Oh, the fuck it isn’t!” Ellis held up Gladstone’s BlackBerry. “No thanks to you, but I know just how goddamn lethal this virus is. I saw what Group C has become. I even photographed it.”

A primitive rage twisted Allaire’s expression. Ellis took a cautious step backward.

“You had no right going into that room,” he said. “I am the president. It is my job to make decisions that are in the best interest of this country. Telling the whole truth about WRX3883 would have caused a panic here and on the outside that would have endangered everyone. I could not take the chance of triggering a pandemic.”

“Wrong, Mr. President. I have the inalienable right to life, same as every man, woman, and child whose survival you’ve so callously put at risk.”

Jordan Lamar looked concerned.

“What is she talking about, Jim?” he asked. “You told us the virus wasn’t that dangerous.”

“He lied to you, Jordan,” Ellis said. “He lied to us all. And what I propose we do is turn those network television cameras back on and show the American people exactly what it is that we’re facing.”

“Just what are we facing, Ursula?” the architect asked.

“A certain and horrible death, that’s what. But this legislation I plan to present will guarantee us the delivery of an antiviral treatment.”

Allaire’s jaw fell slack. His look was of total dismay and disbelief.

“You’re mad,” he said. “Absolutely mad.”

“A no vote to what I’m proposing would be no different than putting a gun to our heads and pulling the trigger.”

“Don’t listen to her, Jordan,” Allaire insisted. “She doesn’t have the facts. She can’t deliver what she’s promising.”

“Is it true, sir?” Lamar asked. “Did you lie to us?”

“I did what I believed was right—for all of us.”

For the first time, there was little conviction in his voice.

“The virus is going to kill us,” Ellis repeated. “I have proof I can show you. And it will be a horrible death, Jordan. But I tell you again, I’ve secured us an antiviral treatment.”

“How?” Allaire shouted at her. “How is that possible, Ursula, when the only person who could deliver a treatment is working with us?”

“We pass my bill, and Genesis will deliver the antiviral treatment. They got the virus, they have the treatment.”

Allaire went pale.

“What have you done?” he managed.

“I’ve cut a deal with them,” she said. “This bill—their bill—for our lives. And before you say we don’t negotiate with terrorists, I want everybody to see what is going to become of us. Jordan, get this video to play for everybody inside this chamber. And I want to simultaneously broadcast it to the American people. No more lies. No more deception. The time has come to do what must be done. Let’s get that broadcast going.”

“Jordan, don’t!” Allaire exclaimed. “Our scientist is getting close. He’s nearing a breakthrough. Whatever this—this madwoman has been promised by the terrorists is a lie. I’m telling you the truth. There is no treatment yet. No cure. You will severely impede our ability to operate if you undermine my authority here.”

“Give me the BlackBerry,” Lamar said to Ursula. “I want to see the video myself.”

“Jordan, no!”

But Lamar snatched the device from Ellis’s outstretched hand and turned his back to keep the president from taking it away. The architect’s shoulders slumped as he watched the horrific recording. Ellis could hear the tinny audio track sounding through the BlackBerry’s mono speaker. She heard the grunts and the screams. The sound of vomiting. The gunshot.

“Mr. President, what have you done?” Lamar asked.

“Jordan, don’t do it!” the president said again.

“I am the architect of the Capitol, sir. If I wish to broadcast chamber activities, the rules governing this facility permit me to do just that.”

“You will be committing a treasonous act,” Allaire warned.

Lamar shook his head grimly.

“Then that will be an action of which we will both be guilty, Mr. President,” he said. “Madam Speaker, I’ll arrange for the broadcast.”

Lamar turned on his heels and quickly walked away.

“Come back here!” Allaire cried out. “Come back here this instant!”

The president grabbed the armrest of a nearby chair and with surprising, rage-driven strength, yanked it free, splintering the wood. Holding the armrest aloft, he took a menacing step toward Ellis. His face was contorted with anger. The arm holding his makeshift weapon was shaking. Then, suddenly, he dropped the club and gazed with horror at his hands.

Ellis and the others immediately saw what was upsetting him so.

His palms were now marked by an intricate design of circular swirls—lines the color of blood.

CHAPTER 56

DAY 7
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