Pandemic

Sabri patted the rifle across his chest. "M16-2A. It is the U.S. Army's standard assault rifle." He lifted it off his shoulder. "A beautiful piece of machinery actually. Fires 5.56-mm bullets. Again, standard U.S. Army issue."

"So it will look like I died at American hands. Clever." Kabaal nodded. "What will you tell the others?"

"The truth." Sabri shrugged. "That you shrank in the face of battle. That you were prepared to betray us at the moment of need."

Kabaal looked over to Aziz. "Will the men believe that?"

"I… I… don't know, Abu…" the fat microbiologist stuttered in a fit of nervous twitches.

"Don't concern yourself, Hazzir," Sabri said soothingly. "It won't matter for much longer."

"To me or them?" Kabaal asked.

"Either."

Kabaal felt overcome with a vague unsettled emotion that verged on regret. He was not afraid to face divine judgment, but he no longer assumed that Paradise awaited him.

"Stand, Hazzir," Sabri instructed. "And walk away from the desk."

Kabaal rose from the chair and took three steps from his desk to the wall, standing in front of his favorite Turkish rug. He stopped and looked from the terror-struck face of Aziz to the placid face of Sabri. "God is great," Kabaal said.

Sabri pointed the rifle at him.

At the same moment as Kabaal heard three muffled pops, he fell painlessly back against the rug behind him as if a gust of wind had blown him. Sabri's face faded away, replaced by that of his own father as a young man. His father was speaking to him, but the words were muffled as if spoken underwater.

The sound grew quiet. The room darkened.

It looked nothing like Paradise.

CHAPTER 34

WASHINGTON, D.C.

A Northeaster had swept through D.C., bringing with it a record pre-Christmas cold snap. Bundled up in jackets, gloves, and hats, Haldane and Savard ran the two blocks from her office to the Starbucks, partly out of hurry, but mainly to get out of the bitter chill.

They stepped into the coffee shop just after 8:00 A.M. Huddling at a table inside, Duncan McLeod still wore his hat and gloves. "Shite, for the first time in my life, I miss balmy old Scotland in December!" he said as they approached.

Haldane mustered a smile, but he was still preoccupied. The memories of the NSC critical incident meeting of an hour earlier reverberated in his mind, and he couldn't shake the video images of the looming Operation Antiseptic.

Noah and Gwen made space on the table for all their winter gear before pulling up two chairs. As was their recent custom, McLeod had already bought coffees. He handed them the extra-large-sized cups.

Gwen hoisted her cup off the table and held it up. "Who can drink one of these?"

"I wanted to give you the option of soaking your feet in them, if need be." McLeod shrugged. He looked from Savard to Haldane. "So? What's the big news?"

Noah glanced at Gwen, wondering how McLeod knew anything since they were both sworn to secrecy. "What news, Duncan?"

McLeod squinted at Haldane. "The meeting this morning! When I rang you at home, Anna told me you were called out to some urgent predawn get-together."

Haldane put his coffee cup down. "Listen, Duncan…" he began awkwardly.

McLeod slammed down his cup. "Oh, no, Haldane! After all this, you're not going to leave me out of the loop now?"

"This comes from on high. National security issues and all that." Gwen held up her palms helplessly. "We have no choice in the matter."

"Oh, that's right," McLeod grumbled. "I keep forgetting what a major threat to American national security one batty Scotsman could be."

Gwen reached down and stuck a hand in her pants pocket. She pulled out her miniature cell phone, which Noah realized she must have kept on vibrate mode, because he had never heard it ring. "Gwen Savard," she said and listened a moment. "Okay, we're on our way." She put the phone back in her pocket as she stood up from the table. "Noah, we have to go. Now."

Haldane grabbed his hat and gloves and then reached over and patted McLeod on the shoulder. "Think of it this way, Duncan," he said with a wink. "It's one less of those godforsaken places you have to visit."

McLeod waved them away with a swing of his arm. "Get the hell out of here. Go!" He flashed a half grin. "And for the love of Christ, stay safe!"

* * *

Haldane and Savard were led directly into the Secretary of Homeland Security's roomy office in the Nebraska Avenue Center. "Doctors," Ted Hart said in his hoarse tone and rose to greet them.

They stood by his desk, but he didn't offer them seats. "Dr. Haldane, after our meeting this morning, a few members of the NSC, including the President, stayed behind to discuss the situation. We decided it would be a good idea for you to go to Somalia."

Haldane nodded without comment.

"Once the terrorist camp is secure, of course." Hart stopped to hack a harsh cough. "We were hoping you would join the site survey team. Your expertise would be invaluable in assessing the state of their lab and so on."

Haldane felt a rush of adrenaline. "Of course, Mr. Secretary."