Pandemic

The man smiled slightly, which only intimidated the young waiter more. Dabir stood frozen on the spot until the man directed his pale eyes to the tables to his left. "I believe other guests need your service," he said.

Relieved, Dabir hurried away from the table.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Only eight days had passed since the raid in Somalia, but Haldane felt as if months had gone by since Gwen and he escaped the crumbling wreckage.

The city — the entire country — had changed in the past week, as if the nation were holding its collective breath and bracing for the worst. Work shut down to essential services level. Most people avoided going out. And no one seemed to pay any attention to the fact that Christmas was only six days away.

But for all the collective angst, so far nothing had happened.

As he drove downtown, Haldane was struck by how few cars drove on the Beltway, which usually was clogged with traffic at all times of day, especially during the morning rush.

Like every day since their return from Somalia, Haldane, McLeod, and Clayton met at Savard's DHS office. As soon as Gwen's secretary dropped off the coffees and closed the door behind her, Gwen leaned back in her chair and ran a hand through her pulled-back blond hair. "We have the results from the CDC tests on the Gansu H3N2 strain found in the dead monkey."

"It's not good news, is it?" Haldane asked.

She shook her head. "No."

"Just how bloody bad?" McLeod asked, scratching at the beard that had grown even scragglier over the past week.

"One of the terrorists must have had significant microbiological expertise," Gwen said with a mix of awe and revulsion. "He or she managed to introduce sections of the Beijing Flu's genetic code into the Gansu Flu. The end result is the much more contagious H3N2 strain of Gansu Flu."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Gwen!" McLeod said. "How much more contagious?"

"The results are preliminary…" She looked down and shook her head. "But so far, it's measuring out to be about as contagious as the common cold."

Haldane felt as if he had been punched. He looked over to McLeod, whose face had blanched. Even Clayton's eyes were wide with worry.

McLeod turned to Haldane. "It's the return of the Spanish Flu," he said hoarsely.

"How bad was the Spanish Flu?" Clayton asked.

"It killed twenty million people in less than four months, at a time when the world had a third of its current population and had no air travel," McLeod said. "Overall, you might say it was fairly bad."

Clayton's brow furrowed. "And this terrorist virus could be the new Spanish Flu?"

"We're overdue." Haldane shrugged. "We always knew the next pandemic would come. It's just that no one suspected that anyone would deliberately initiate it."

Gwen leaned forward in her chair and placed both hands flat on her desktop. "No one has initiated anything, yet!" she said fiercely. "And I'm not about to sit back and let them."

The others, even McLeod, nodded.

Haldane looked over and noticed the way Clayton eyed Gwen. Noah recognized the admiration in his eyes. But somehow, the CIA man's feelings were less threatening to Noah now. It was as if their shared sentiment bonded them in common interest, like two people who shared a passion for the same music.

Haldane asked Clayton, "No word on Sabri or anyone else from the terrorist base?"

"All of the Agency's resources are directed to finding him, but so far nothing." Clayton sighed. "If he got out of that complex alive, then he's doing a damn good job of keeping a low profile."

McLeod looked at Gwen. "What about your friend's drug? Where does that stand?"

She pulled her hands from the desk and brought them to her temples. "The news isn't good there, either."

"Why? What's wrong?" Haldane asked. "The drug doesn't work against this new strain of the virus?"

"No, that's not the problem. It seems to work just as well." She started to work her temples again. "As you know, the early results with the Gansu Flu virus were very promising. Mortality was reduced from twenty-plus percent down to three percent in test monkeys."

"Bloody impressive!" McLeod said.

Gwen shrugged. "But then two of the monkeys who recovered from the virus went on to die from overwhelming hepatitis."

"Medication-related hepatitis?" Haldane asked.

Gwen shrugged "Too early to know."

"And none of the untreated monkeys developed hepatitis?" McLeod asked.

She shook her head.

"But, Gwen," Haldane said. "You told me earlier that there were no serious complications when the drug was tested in healthy animals and people."

"True." Gwen sighed. "This was exactly what Isaac feared. That if we jumped the gun, we would learn about the complications and side effects of his drug the hard way."

McLeod brushed the concern away with a sweep of his hand. "The same damn monkeys who died of hepatitis might well have died from the virus without treatment."