Unfortunately, I doubted Kirk and I wouldcome out of this alive.
But then, we already knew that.
I met Kirk’s gaze, pressing my lips into abitter smile.
He lowered one lid in a wink. “I only wishwe’d taken time for that kiss.”
I did, too. I had just opened my mouth to sayso when a window shattered, and I heard the hiss.
An incapacitating agent.
Yeah, that’s what I would have done.
I started to feel the effects before Irealized I’d taken a breath.
“As an operative, you must learn to livein the moment,” The Instructor said. “Not just while carrying outan assignment, but in every aspect of your life. There’s no pointin putting things off when the future may never come.”
When I woke, I expected to be bound.
Scratch that—I expected to be dead.
I was wrong on both counts.
Beyond that, my thoughts were scrambled.Images drifted through my mind in snips and snatches. Fire. Water.Subways and helicopters.
Blood.
Swirling blood.
I forced my eyes open, pushed back theconfusion long enough to concentrate on my surroundings. I waslying in bed, wearing a flimsy hospital gown and nothing underneathbut heart monitor pads stuck to my chest. An IV tube snaked from myhand and led to a bag hanging from an adjustable metal poleattached to the bed frame. Cloth tape held a square of gauze to theoutside of my left upper arm.
My skin felt hot, my stomach uneasy. I couldsmell river water and rubbing alcohol and the dusty scent ofconcrete. The area looked like a hospital room, white floors,blank, white walls, but there were no windows.
And I was not alone.
As soon as I saw Jonathan Kirk, I knew who hewas, but it took a little longer to remember why we were here.
The river. Jacob’s warning. The cut onJulie’s arm.
He was in a bed hooked to monitors, same asme.
I wondered where they’d put Julie. Wonderedhow long we had to live. I watched Kirk in silence until hiseyelids fluttered.
“Hey,” I said.
He opened his eyes fully and frowned at me,obviously as confused as I had been.
I sat up on my stretcher. A little dizzy atfirst, I planted elbows on knees and cradled my head in myhands.
“I think we’re in some kind of lab.”
A minute or two passed, and I could see thethoughts shifting around in his mind, just as they had in mine.Finally Kirk sat up and glanced around the room.
“Plum Island.”
“You’ve been here before?”
He shook his head. “Just a guess.”
“Probably a good one.”
He swung off the side of the bed, slid ontohis feet, and grimaced.
“Damn leg.”
Bandages wrapped his gunshot wound, ankle toknee.
“There’s a camera in the corner.” I pointedout the small device hugging the ceiling.
Kirk gave it a sneer. “They’re watching us,waiting to see how we die.”
In my line of work, dying was an occupationalhazard. But I’d often speculated about how I’d feel when the timecame. I’d faced death before. I’d fought it. So far, I’d won. Butthis time I had no one to fight. This time the enemy was inside,and no tool or training or sheer will to survive could save me.
I probably should be frightened. Instead Ifelt nothing at all.
“You’re awake,” a male voice said.
I followed the sound to an intercom speaker,embedded in the wall.
“Why are we here?”
“You’ve been infected with a virulentdisease.”
“A virulent disease?” That might be theunderstatement of the year. “You mean Ebola.”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the girl? Where’s Julie?”
“She’s here. Thank you for bringing her backwhere she belongs.”
I looked up at the camera. “You’re the VIP,aren’t you?
“VIP?”
“The one who requested this operation. Theone with ties to the DoD.”
“Weapons are the purview of the defensedepartment, it’s true.”
It was neither a confirmation nor a denial,but I didn’t need either. I knew the answer.
“What is your name?”
“Pembrooke.”
“I want to see Julie, Mr. Pembrooke.”
“It’s Dr. Pembrooke, and she’s serving hercountry. You two have an opportunity to do the same.”
“An opportunity?” Kirk guffawed. “Does thatmean we can refuse?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“You both had injuries. Being in closeproximity to Miss James meant a very high likelihood ofinfection.”
“So now you’re watching us to see how wellyour new biological weapon works?”
“All weapons must be tested.”
“So that means what?” Kirk asked in a dryvoice. “You kick back and watch us die, while chomping on popcornand Raisinets?”
“We aren’t doing this because we find itentertaining, Mr. Kirk. This is science.”
“Maybe we weren’t infected,” I said.
There was no reply.
Then I understood.
“You son of a bitch. You made sure we wereinfected. Didn’t you, Pembrooke?”
“Why?” Kirk asked. “To keep us quiet?”
“The genie can’t be put back into the bottle,Mr. Kirk. Our concerns are more immediate than you spillinggovernment secrets. We have a weapon, and we need to know if we canproperly manage it.”
“Manage it? How can you manage a …”
But then I knew. I knew it sure asanything.
“You’re testing a cure.” As soon as I’d saidthe words, my hands began to shake.
“Yes, we are testing a cure. A DNAvaccination, to be more specific.”
“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Kirk said.“Shoot us up.”
“We administered it while you wereunconscious.”
I scanned Kirk’s body, my own arms and legs.“And is it working?”
“We’ll see.”
I wasn’t very attentive in middle school, butI did remember a few things from science class.
“If this is an experiment, there has to be acontrol group.”
“Yes.”
My stomach dipped. “So you only gave one ofus the cure …”
“And the other was given a placebo shot.That’s correct.”
I closed my eyes. Pressure assaulted mychest, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to look at Kirk, see howhe was handling this, but I was afraid if I did, my shaking wouldincrease. Or worse yet, I’d start to cry.
Kirk was the one who summed up the obvious.“So one of us will die and the other gets to watch.”
“That will be true if the vaccine works.”
“And when one of us starts showing symptoms?Will you give the vaccine then?”
“That will be too late. Once the virus hasreplicated enough to be symptomatic, the vaccine is no longereffective.”
“You’ve done other tests?”
“Only with chimps. The vaccine was noteffective once symptoms began.”
I forced my eyes
