Pandemic

Gwen's mind raced. She nodded at Clayton. "Okay, Alex. We need to organize a crisis conference call for the Bioterrorism Preparedness Council. Today," she said. "We better brace for a possible massive invasion of the Gansu Flu in the next few days. Worst-case scenario, we're talking about hundreds of thousands of potential victims. So we need to initiate the emergency response plan ASAP. Agreed?"

Clayton nodded. "Let's say 3:00 P.M., Washington time."

"Good. Thanks."

Gwen watched as Clayton patted around his desk before finding a pair of chopsticks to hold up to the camera. A glimmer of his old self resurfaced. "All things considered, I think you should have gone with me for sushi instead of flying off to play hero."

Savard laughed. "Have to admit, I would've even preferred that over quarantine."

"Stay well," Clayton said and then the video frame went black.

Gwen picked up her secure phone line and dialed the number from memory. The executive assistant to the Secretary of Homeland Security patched her call straight through. "Mr. Secretary?" Gwen asked.

"Hello, Gwen," the Secretary, Theodore "Ted" Hart, said in his gravelly, New England drawl. "You are still healthy, I trust?"

"Fine, Ted."

"Gwen, our office has been fielding a lot of questions," Hart said. "The press is looking for you."

"Of course," Gwen sighed. "They want answers from the 'Bug Czar.' What are you telling them?"

"The usual runaround. We can stall them for a few days." He paused a moment. "But when you're out of quarantine…"

"I'll face the music, Ted. I promise."

"Fine. Are you up-to-date on the situation?" Hart asked.

"I just spoke to Alex Clayton."

"The CIA dropped the ball on this one," Hart said in response to the name. "We should have had more — hell, some — warning about this virus!" Savard wondered if the comment was for her benefit, or if Hart, ever the political animal, was already lining up scapegoats. "Listen, Gwen, it's up to us to minimize the impact of this attack. The President expects it. As do the American people."

Gwen was tempted to remind him that he was speaking to her, not the cameras, but she held her tongue. "Ted, we're not totally unprepared," she said. "But we have to enact our ERPBA for every urban center."

"The what?" he asked.

"The Emergency Response Plan to Biological Attack. It puts the emergency health-care command structure in place for responding to this kind of attack. We've already run at least one mock disaster in most cities with a simulated smallpox outbreak."

"How did we do in the dry run?" Hart asked.

"So-so," Gwen admitted. "But our big advantage with the Gansu Flu is that it is nowhere near as contagious as smallpox." She paused, before adding, "Of course, it is just as lethal if not more so than smallpox."

"Hmmm," Hart snorted, sounding unimpressed. "All right, consider the plan green-lighted. What else?"

"We need to coordinate with CDC and Department of Health to implement wide-scale screening facilities," she said.

"Fine," he said. "Next."

"We should issue a nation-wide alert," Gwen said. "People across the country should be instructed to go to a screening clinic at the first sign of fever or cough. And, Ted, I think it should come from the President himself."

Hart unleashed a wet smoker's cough into the receiver. Gwen imagined that her boss, a pack-a-day smoker at the best of times, would have doubled his consumption during this crisis. "Gwen, the American public is jittery enough as is. Did you see the papers this morning? Some poor Pakistani boy was beaten to within an inch of his life at a convenience store in Missouri because he was coughing. With the cold and flu season upon us, is it a good idea to send people into a panic at the first sniffle?"

"It has to be done, Ted," Gwen said firmly.

Gwen could hear Hart wheeze slightly as he mulled it over. Finally he said, "I will speak to the President. Anything else?"

She hesitated, vacillating on whether to mention her mentor's work.

"What is it, Gwen?" he demanded.

"My old professor, Dr. Isaac Moskor, has been developing a new treatment for influenza. The early results are encouraging."

"For the Gansu Flu?" Hart breathed excitedly.

"No, for the common flu, but the Gansu strain is related," Savard said. "I've set him up in a secure level-four lab at the CDC to run tests on infected monkeys."

"Good," Hart said. "You make sure whatever he needs is top priority there. Am I clear?"

"Will do. Believe me, Isaac will do everything possible to make this work." Savard couldn't keep the pride out of her voice. She cleared her throat. "One last thing," she said, bracing for Hart's response, "we should consider the borders."

Another heavy cough. "What about the borders?"

"I think it would be wise to suspend travel into and out of the U.S. for everyone except those with special clearance."