Pandemic

"And why has she disappeared without seeking help?" Haldane asked. "And where did she get the virus in the first place?"

McLeod's eyes widened to the point where his lazy one seemed to drift into the midline. "Are you suggesting that this woman was deliberately trying to spread her vile germs?"

Haldane shrugged. "Can you give me another plausible explanation?"

For the first time in all the years Haldane had known him, McLeod's eyes showed genuine fear. "What are we dealing with here, Noah?" he asked softly.

CHAPTER 20

VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA

When Nicole Caddullo awoke, for a disoriented moment she wondered if she had fallen asleep in her bathtub. Then she realized her bedsheets were drenched. Confused, the nineteen-year-old assumed her roommates had dumped a glass of water on her in her sleep as a joke. Thanks, guys! she thought angrily, but after the violent shakes set in she began to piece it together. Waking up in the middle of the night burning up from fever, she had thrown the blankets and bedspread off her. She had assumed it was a dream, but the proof in the form of her tangled bedcovers now lay in a heap at the foot of her bed.

Not the flu! Nicole thought. Not today.

She had an oceanography exam to write. And then back to the Vancouver Aquarium where she worked as a guide for her afternoon shift. The Aquarium! She remembered the small woman with the jet-black hair who wore thick-framed sunglasses despite the sunless gray skies. She had stood beside Nicole at the sea otter show two days earlier. Nicole had almost asked the woman to leave because her harsh cough was distracting the trainers and disrupting the show.

I bet that's where I picked this up, Nicole thought bitterly.

Freezing, she sat up and reached for the blankets at her feet. Flopping back on the bed, she couldn't believe how the minimal effort winded her. Lying with her blankets bundled around her she panted and gasped as if she had just broken her personal best time for the three-thousand meter dash.

Rather than easing with rest, her breathing grew more labored with each passing minute. Then the cough started. Her whole chest rattled with each hack. She coughed harder and harder. Then she choked on a gob of phlegm as if it were a chunk of meat before finally managing to spit it into her hand. She glanced down and saw that her hand was full of blood.

The sudden overwhelming panic surfaced as a hoarse scream.

HARGEYSA, SOMALIA

Hazzir Kabaal sat in his sumptuous office, enjoying his fourth espresso of the day. He liked a strong coffee before bedtime; he had trouble sleeping without it. In recent days, it had become a moot point. With or without coffee, he hardly slept.

When the media blitz first erupted, Kabaal had swelled with a prideful sense of accomplishment. It soon turned into a bittersweet victory. Kabaal had forgotten how attached he had become to London in his four years spent there. He remembered Sheikh Hassan's warning: "When the West takes hold inside you it grows like a cancer that is difficult to cut out." He knew the Sheikh was right, but the pictures of the empty London streets and the fear in the voices of TV interviewees had stirred the slivers of uncertainty. If only the Sheikh were here, Kabaal thought, he would wipe away the doubt with his pious reasoning.

"Sometimes God's way is the hardest way," Kabaal reassured himself aloud.

"So I have heard," Major Abdul Sabri said.

Kabaal hadn't realized that Sabri had materialized in his doorway. Kabaal looked down and flushed with embarrassment. He cleared his throat. "Welcome back, Major. I trust you had a safe trip."

Sabri shrugged. He wore another plain white robe, but with his thick shoulders, opaque blue eyes, and an air of certainty he didn't need a uniform or a weapon to establish his dangerousness.

"You met Mr. Gamal?" Kabaal asked.

Sabri sauntered up to the desk, answering only when he reached the foot of it. "We spent time together, yes."

"And?"

"Bishr Gamal was a petty criminal. A thief and a pick-pocket." He paused. "But he supplemented his income working as a police informer."

Kabaal put his cup down and leaned forward in his chair. "Go on," he said.

"He was sent to spy on us at the mosque." Sabri looked over Kabaal's head as if already bored with the topic of conversation.

Kabaal tried to emulate Sabri's detached calm, but he couldn't keep the edge out of his voice. "Sent by whom?"

"Sergeant Achmed Eleish. A detective with the Cairo Police Force."

"Eleish!" Kabaal said. "That man has been dogging me for years."

Sabri nodded, displaying neither surprise nor interest in Kabaal's revelation.

"Eight or nine years ago, Eleish was shot by an activist who worked for my paper. Ever since he has been trying to prove my connection to The Brotherhood." Kabaal shook his head and sighed. "I should have taken care of him a long time ago."

"Shall I now?" Sabri asked.

Kabaal weighed the idea. "What exactly did Gamal tell Eleish?" he asked.