would you mind if we looked at those notes?”
Mrs. Lamunyon’s composure, never serene, visibly tightened. She began rubbing her hands unconsciously. “You know, my husband is due…”
Kim reached across the settee and placed her own hand on the mother’s. “If we could see Jason’s notes, we’d be able to leave right away.”
Without speaking, the grieving woman rose and left the room. When she returned there were tears in the corners of her eyes.
Mannock produced a notepad and copied everything: postal marks, type of paper, and exact spelling with errors. Kim scanned them twice; one was a single sheet, the other one and a half. There were references to a couple of obscure villages, and both letters mentioned “Dr. Ali.”
Kim carefully refolded the papers and laid them on the table with the envelopes. She rose to go and Mannock stepped back to the picture gallery.
“Thank you
Mannock, who had hardly spoken, seized one last chance. “I see that animals are popular in your family, ma’am. We have two dogs and some cats ourselves.”
Sherree managed to keep a straight face. She knew that Mannock was allergic to most animals.
Marian Lamunyon beamed for a change. “Oh, yes. Jason just loves… loved… animals. He wanted to be a veterinarian, you know. He volunteered at the animal clinic.”
Kim shook her head. “No, we didn’t know that. Ah, what else was he interested in?”
“Oh, he used to like girls and cars and music. A California boy, you know.” Her smile faded. “Then a couple years ago he got into that Islamic thing…”
Sherree Kim managed to keep a level tone in her voice. “Yes, ma’am. We know.”
The next afternoon Derringer convened a conference in his office. Typically, he went straight to the point. “Dave Main called me during the noon hour. He says we could probably get somebody who’s professionally and physically qualified if we had more time. The AMRIID civilians were a good suggestion, but it’s no go. He checked at Fort Detrick. A couple of the ones we’d consider are essential personnel. Others are out of the country or not interested in our, uh, adventure.”
Derringer turned to Wolf. “What did you find at CDC, Joe? Don’t they have some ex-military types?”
The domestic ops chief shook his head. “I talked to the assistant director myself. They have about 5,500 people just in Atlanta but that includes everything from admin types to birth defects and accident prevention. She didn’t know of anybody with Marburg background
SSI’s founder leaned back in his chair, tapping his right-hand fingers in a rhythmic tattoo. Nobody but his few intimates knew that the young Michael had won a state championship playing snare in his drum and bugle corps.
“Very well. I’ll call Phil and see if he can get his British friend. If it were up to me, I’d take the best-qualified military immunologist we could find and just keep our mouths shut, but the firm’s reputation is on the line.
“Frank, you should talk to Phil, too. Your guys can start assembling the medical gear we’ll likely need. I doubt if we have much of it in stock, especially biohazard suits and decontamination equipment. Check with Terry about loading the aircraft, because you’ll be better off taking what you need rather than trying to get it from the locals.”
“Roger that.”
Dr. Carolyn Padgett-Smith checked her emails before dinner and found an intriguing message from Phil Catterly. She phoned him immediately.
“Phillip, Carolyn here.”
“Oh, thanks for calling, Carolyn. Ah, you can probably read between the lines, but is your passport up to date?”
“It is. And I have appropriate inoculations for Pakistan.”
“Well, I’m authorized to ask on behalf of a U.S. Government contractor if you would be, uh, available for as much as a couple of weeks…”
Dr. Padgett-Smith did not want to assume too much. “Are you offering me the chance of a lifetime, Phillip? A view of barren vistas in the company of bronzed, hardy young men?”
“CPS, you’ve read too much Kipling. This could be damned dangerous, and…”
“Why, I should love the opportunity to climb some new rocks. Do tell me more.”
Padgett-Smith never did get a proper dinner.
After ringing off, she phoned an unlisted number in Sussex. A familiar male voice resonated in her ear. “Why, Carolyn! What can I do for my favorite ex-sister-in-law?”
“Now, Tony. Don’t be so cynical. Why do you always assume that I want something?”
“Because you always do, love.”
Carolyn was reminded why Lydia had divorced the former soldier. He was inevitably so damnably
“Tony I need to ask a big favor, but I can’t say too much. You understand how it is. Well, suffice to say that I shall be traveling abroad in areas where the locals are decidedly restless, and they do not take kindly to western females.”
“That could cover a great deal of geography. The wogs begin at Calais, you know.”
CPS relaxed. With Tony lapsing into the old, familiar banter, she was halfway home. “Ah, Tony, you recall when I addressed your colleagues about the emerging bio threat about a year and a half ago?”
“Certainly. You were a hit.”
“Well, I wonder if the colonel’s offer still stands.”
“What offer was that?”
“He said, ‘Dr. Padgett-Smith, if ever I may be of assistance in your counter terrorism efforts, do not hesitate to contact me.’ Of course, I’ve long since mislaid his card.”
Tony did the mental gymnastics. Foreign travel, exotic climes, hint of danger. SAS assistance. It was getting interesting. “I can call him tonight, Padgers. But what do you need?”
She told him.
3
“Gentlemen, this is your initial brief on the Pandora Project.” As head of SSI’s foreign operations division, Frank Leopole had assembled the team for background briefing with other company principals on hand.
“We called this mission the Pandora Project because it’s like Pandora’s Box. Some radical Muslims apparently have injected suicide volunteers with Marburg virus, which is related to Ebola. There is no known cure for either. So, once the bug is out of the box — or the genie out of the bottle — there’s no going back.” He paused for emphasis, then said, “Dr. Catterly is our expert on the subject. I’ll let him explain.”
Catterly began. “Ebola can be eighty percent fatal, while Marburg runs twenty-five percent or more, if that’s any consolation. Anyway, our concern is the first carrier, who was found in Britain a few days ago. He was a young Californian, a convert to Islam, who collapsed at Heathrow Airport. When he was diagnosed with Marburg, the Brits contacted us and the job was offered to Admiral Derringer. Unfortunately, the host now has died without providing much information.”
The former ranger called Bosco was known for his flippancy. This time was no different. “So when did this California convert collect his seventy-two virgins?”
