know what we can do about it, other than keep the CDC going and hope they can come up with something.”
June nodded, unable to speak for thinking of the new tragedy occurring. Images of babies and children appealing to their parents for help as they lay dying flashed through her mind. She shivered and held Doug tighter until she could get her thoughts back in focus. She looked at him with tears streaking her face and chuckled weakly. “I guess that’s something else you’re going to have to get used to. I cry easily, even over things I can’t help.”
“That’s not a bad thing. Sometimes I wish I could just let loose instead of holding my emotions inside me.
I’ve sure enough seen sights I wanted to just break down and cry over. And there’s going to be more and more of them.” He sighed. “Well, as I’ve already said, it’s nothing we can do anything about, other than play our small role here. If there’s any hope for bringing this under control it’s in places like this.”
“Amelia says she thinks it’s too late to control what’s loose now. She’s going to change the whole direction of our research toward wide spectrum treatment of future viral epidemics and development of a general class of viricides.”
“Hasn’t that been tried already?”
“Oh, sure. Like with the AIDS virus. But just think, if all the research poured into developing a vaccine had been spent on treatment to begin with, instead of years later, a whole lot of lives could have been saved. Amelia recommended that the president go to the U.N. with a world wide program.”
“Hmm. I’ll confess I haven’t much faith in the U.N., but I guess it couldn’t hurt and might even help. Isn’t that the pizza I smell?”
“Whoops!” June jumped up and ran to the oven, catching it just in time.
Just as Gene Bradley—and Doug—had feared, the CDC complex rapidly became the focus of a boiling sense of outrage and betrayal on the part of the black population. Ever since the first inklings of the Harcourt virus infecting only dark skinned persons, the blacks of Atlanta and other cities had begun arming, with their religious leaders and militants alike urging drastic action. When the new rumors that the CDC had actually developed the virus and given it to the government to deliberately spread among the black population became rife, the agitation reached new heights. Atlanta was more than fifty per cent black, and even with a portion of the city population dying or dead, it was being augmented with ones coming in from the countryside, and even from out of the state, despite curfews and travel restrictions.
“We’re getting some more troops in Atlanta, but it’s going to be next week before the army brigade they’re sending here arrives,” Gene Bradley told his platoon leaders. I’ve hired some more people and asked the mayor to broadcast an appeal for volunteers. Frankly I don’t know whether that was a good idea or not—it may just stir the pot past the boiling point, if it isn’t already there, but I felt obligated to try.
I think it’s going to get real hairy here before long.”
“How about the army troops already here? Can’t they protect the complex?” Gary Jones asked. He looked very worried. Doug thought he had probably been following the same news accounts he had.
Gene thought for a moment, then shrugged and gave them one of his rare smiles. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Then he sobered. “I’ve looked at all the possible routes a mob might take if they become determined to get to us. I’ve narrowed it down to one probable path and one not so likely but possible. Army commanders aren’t real good at taking advice from civilians, even from ex-colonels, but I passed it on to the battalion commander. Whether he’ll assign any of his troops to help the company we’ve already been given, I don’t know. He does have the rest of Atlanta to take care of and only has the one battalion to work with.
“What I want you to do is keep your troops close and have those who aren’t on duty ready to respond to an emergency. Gary, I want you and Teresa to set it up so that our off duty people are not only ready, but organized as a reserve force, then pick two people to captain it while each of them is off. That way, they’ll know exactly how to respond and there won’t be any waste motion.
“The mission will be the same: protect the CDC entrances if attackers get that far. The scientists working here are the best hope for the future and I don’t want anything to happen to them.” Gene looked at the others to be sure what he said had registered. “Comments? Suggestions?”
“I have one,” Doug said immediately. He had been thinking about it for the last few days. “If worst comes to worst, is there any reason the CDC staff can’t help defend the place?”
“I hate to bring amateurs into a fight, but it’s still not a bad idea. I guess you can take charge of that in addition to your other extra duty.”
“Other?”
“Oh. Sorry. I must be overworked; I meant to announce it first thing. You’re going to be second in command here. If anything happens to me, you have the ball. I’ll talk to you later today about it.”
“Thanks. I guess.” Doug’s response brought a mild chuckle from the others.
“Anything else? Anyone? Okay, meeting’s over.” Gene shoved his chair away from the table and was gone before the rest of them were on their feet.
Doug and June said their vows in the office of the CDC Director at noon the same day, in front of a harried looking army major, with Amelia and Gene as witnesses and an equally harried looking private doing the recording. It went quickly. Doug was afraid the simplicity and impersonal nature of the ceremony would cause June to wish she had asked for something more traditional, but she appeared radiantly happy afterwards, putting his mind at ease. After they had exchanged heartfelt kisses and accepted congratulations, the Major and his clerk quickly left.
The honeymoon lasted all of thirty seconds. Doug and June were preparing to make their exit and hurry back to her apartment when Gene spoke up and stopped them.
“Don’t leave yet, Doug. While you’re here, you may as well give Amelia a heads up on your idea of arming the staff. I’ve already spoken to her about it, but it’s going to be your show.”
“Would you mind staying, too, June?” Amelia asked. “I’m sorry, but since Prince Charming is going to be tied up for a while, you may as well keep him company.”
“I don’t mind,” June lied as she and Doug exchanged amused glances at how quickly their mutual plans for consummating the marriage before he had to go to work had been changed.
“Good. Let’s get to it, then. Doug?”
He went over the procedures, some of which he had already put into motion that morning, surveying all the staff who had arms training and also owned weapons. He could supply arms to some of those without from the security armory but not all, and preferred that they use firearms they were already familiar with should they be called to help defend the complex. And he knew that if a mob ever broke through the thin army lines, they would need every one of them.
It was a professional briefing but he kept June’s hand in his the whole time, occasionally bringing it to his lips and kissing her fingers. By the time he and Amelia was finished, there was barely time to go back to the apartment and exchange his civilian clothing for fatigues, then head back to begin his shift.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Emilee Bailey’s black face showed a patina of perspiration under the harsh camera lights. Her speech to the United Nations assembly had gone over about as well as she had expected, perhaps better. She had been interrupted only three times by shouts of violent disagreement and outright disbelief. At the end, there was only a smattering of applause. She didn’t blame the delegates for their less than enthusiastic reception because she didn’t believe half the words she had just spoken herself.
As she stood before the podium, ready to take questions, she wondered again why she hadn’t simply resigned—or better yet, disclaimed some of what she had been ordered to say. In the end, she had decided to go along. If she hadn’t, she would simply have been replaced and someone else put in her place to make the same speech—and she thought she very well might have been permanently silenced and her death attributed to the Harcourt virus. Her newly appointed “aide” sat behind her, a constant reminder of how extensive were the powers granted the president under martial law. He was an agent of the Homeland Security Council, there to be sure she
