“Tio Antonio?” Nico’s voice came over their comms.
“Go ahead.”
“Your incursion into Corindo is on twitter.”
“Dammit.”
“Wasn’t that what you wanted though?” Charly asked. “See who takes the bait?”
“In the favela,” Antonio growled. “Not the entirety of fucking Rio. We have fifteen minutes before we know for sure if Pierre is infected. We do not want the health department to swoop in before then.”
“You have a point,” Charly said. “But having worked with the Rio health department, they’re more capable of handling infectious diseases like Ebola, especially with Fiocruz in Rio.”
Fiocruz was the world’s leading research institute on public health and was founded by a noted epidemiologist.
“Trouble coming …” Nico said. “Someone is in a heated argument with BOPE. From what I can tell they are demanding to know what’s going on.”
“Come with me,” Antonio said.
Charly knew better than to argue and followed him to the foot of the hill where his crew awaited, just in time to see Martinez trying to hold back a mob of about twenty. And they were armed.
Antonio muttered something under his breath and walked over to the gathering crowd, taking off his head gear. “What’s the problem?”
“Stay out of this, Andrade,” Martinez warned.
“The way I see it, this has everything to do with me. You want answers,” Antonio addressed his audience of agitated people in Portuguese. “You tell me who dumped the body of one of my employees in there.” He pointed in the direction of the hill.
“Why are you wearing that suit?”
“You know who I am, right?” Antonio asked.
“You are a bastard who betrayed his people,” the spokesperson of the crowd sneered. He was a young man about Nico’s age. “Same as this bastard Martinez.”
“You’re one to speak, Sousa,” Martinez shot back. “You deal in crack cocaine everyday and hold the people in Corindo hostage. Are you a murderer-for-hire now?”
The man broke from the crowd and approached Antonio with a swagger, sizing him up, until his eyes fell on Charly who was a few feet away.
Sousa smirked and took a step toward her. “Who do we have here?”
Antonio grabbed his arm. “Stay away—”
A gunshot cracked through the night.
The head of the man called Sousa exploded.
Charly screamed as the ensuing chaos erupted around her. People ran for cover and Antonio sprinted back to her, dragging her to the grassy hill where they found Pierre’s body. Her body hit the ground and Antonio’s own covered her like a shield. Bullets flew around them. But the shooting was short-lived.
“Cease fire! Cease fire!”
After a few heart-pounding moments. Someone yelled, “Clear.”
Antonio’s weight left hers and she was dragged to a sitting position. Without his head covering, Charly could see the conflicted expression on his face.
“Andrade!” Martinez yelled.
“Go,” Charly whispered.
“Stay hidden,” he clipped and ordered his crew to keep an eye on her. He got up, but only moved five feet from her. “What the hell was that?”
“Sniper. It appeared there was only one shot and it came from that building,” Martinez pointed to the structure in question. “Hard to tell when everyone was shooting in that direction.” Frustration etched his face, and then he sighed. “The target looked like Sousa, but you and the doctor were too close to him to be sure,” Martinez said. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Andrade.”
“You think Sousa killed Pierre?”
“Or knew who did and it’s why he was silenced,” Martinez paused. “That’s if he was the target. Now if it’s you or Dr. Bennett, then you two should stay here where there are no buildings for snipers to use. My men will be vigilant. Oh, and by the way, before this shit went down I was informed that our bioterrorism clean-up crew are on their way.”
“Test is inconclusive,” Charly told the bioterrorism team that arrived.
“How is it inconclusive?” One of them asked. There were five of them. All dressed in protective suits although they were probably envious of what she and Andrade’s team were wearing.
“You still should do further tissue analysis,” she said.
“Could it be you have used the kit incorrectly?” Antonio asked.
Charly dealt with facts and numbers. She tried to think beyond her exhaustion and an answer emerged. Fighting a yawn, she replied, “No. Like I said earlier, unmodified Ebola can be detectable in tissue samples for months afterwards. But we don’t have enough data to say that for sure with Z-91 or its mutations.”
“Fuck… why is this again?” Antonio didn’t have the data she did.
“Research points to it being a smart-kill virus, programmed to be inactive after the host dies so it’s self-contained.”
“We’ll do our own tests.” The person who supervised the bagging of Pierre’s body approached. “We’d appreciate some of the test kits from Anriotech.”
“I’ll send some over,” Antonio said, but he was looking at Charly.
When the bioterrorism team left, Martinez said, “I’m going to catch shit for this, you know that?”
“Well, someone got rid of a gang leader for you,” Antonio responded.
“That’s not the point,” Martinez growled.
“You know what the point is …” Antonio’s eyes searched the crowd. “The person we’re after must live here. We need to find Sousa’s men. One of them should know.”
“We found two of his crew killed,” Martinez said. “Execution style.”
The two men fell silent, their eyes never wavering from each other.
“It’s not over,” Antonio said finally.
“Dammit.” Martinez whipped around and surveyed the crowded shanties and buildings before turning back to face them. “You think whoever did this is using the favela as cover?”
“I don’t think it. I know it. It’s easy to hide.”
Charly tried to keep track of the conversation, but the toll of the past few days was weighing down on her. From her round-the-clock work on the vaccine under Carillo’s scrutiny to their mad dash across Mexico. And though the flight and stopovers from Mexico to Rio were comfortable, it wasn’t the most relaxing experience, especially since Antonio’s brooding presence saturated the entire fuselage.
So now, at this
