Pandemic

"And why not, Dr. Savard?" Whitaker's fierce eyes challenged through the computer screen.

"Because, Mr. Secretary, wiping out their base does not necessarily mean wiping out the virus," Gwen said.

With fingertips touching a few inches from his chin, the President sat forward in his chair. "Please explain, Dr. Savard," he said in his slight southern drawl.

"Initially, when the terrorists were trying to incubate the virus they would have needed a moderately sophisticated virology lab."

"But now?" the President said.

"Mr. President, once they had established enough of a live base — say in eggs, chickens, primates, or even human volunteers," Gwen stressed the last words. "They could take these live incubators anywhere and continue to infect more 'suicide bombers.' "

"So they wouldn't need their base anymore?" the President said.

"Mr. President, they may not need their base for a laboratory," Secretary Whitaker said. "But they still need their base as a base. Where are a bunch of terrorists with infected chickens, monkeys, or whatever going to go?"

The NSA nodded. "The Secretary has a point, sir," Home said. "They need a protected space from which to run their operations."

"But if they know that we know…" Ted Hart joined the discussion. "Then it's hardly protected."

The President tapped his fingers together and then nodded. "Seems to me the first priority is to find this base in Somalia." He stared directly into the camera again. Haldane recognized the earnest expression for the one that had made his campaign ads so effective. "Doctors, do either of you have any suggestions?"

Haldane cleared his throat again. "Birds, sir."

"Birds?" The President frowned.

"Birds are the natural carriers of all influenza viruses," Haldane explained. "Without becoming sick themselves, they develop high levels of the virus in their bloodstream. If any of the virus has leaked from their lab, we would best find it among the local bird population."

Whitaker shook his long narrow head angrily. "Let me get this straight, Dr. Haldane. You're suggesting we go on a bird hunt through Somalia?" he scoffed. "Even if we did get lucky, wouldn't it take weeks to check the blood of these animals?"

"Not necessarily," Haldane said. "We have a rapid diagnostic test — what we call a PCR probe — for the virus that could give us a preliminary answer in less than two hours."

"The terrorist's ultimatum expires in forty-eight hours," Home pointed out.

"Which means we have to act now." Whitaker jabbed the tabletop with a fingertip. "We send the army and marines into Somalia, find this base, and eliminate it."

Ted Hart turned to the Secretary of Defense. "Aaron, what if Gwen is right, and they've already left Somalia with their virus?"

"We know who they are. They are not ghosts anymore," Whitaker boomed. "So wherever they go, we will find them."

"We've known who Bin Laden is for over fifteen years," Hart pointed out.

Whitaker shook his head dismissively.

The President dropped his hands to the table and stared directly into the camera again. "Doctors, you heard the ultimatum. If their 'army of martyrs' reached our cities, what would be the fallout?"

"Mr. President, all U.S. cities are enacting the Emergency Response Plan to Biological Attack as we speak," Gwen said. "But it takes time to roll out such a complex infrastructure. I don't think forty-eight hours is enough time."

The President furrowed his bushy eyebrows. "Dr. Haldane, I understand you are the world authority on this virus. Your thoughts?"

Haldane took a deep breath, and composed his thoughts. "Mr. President, we have the advantage of preexisting panic. People are already isolating themselves, which actually helps in a case like this. Also, while highly lethal, this virus is not as contagious as many, so limiting the spread is possible as demonstrated in China, Hong Kong, and now London." He wet his lips before continuing. "But outside of China, what we've seen so far — eighteen hundred infected and four hundred deaths — has been the result of four infected terrorists. If an army of them arrives… Excuse me, Mr. President, but God help us all."

Everyone in the screen lapsed into silence. Finally, the President leaned back in his chair. He looked to his advisors on either side of him. "Ideas?"

Andrea Home spoke. "The ultimatum said that we had to 'begin withdrawal' by the deadline. Our troops in Kuwait and the few left in Saudi are relatively inactive right now. Maybe we could begin by withdrawing them."

"We can't bow to these parasites!" Whitaker slapped the tabletop angrily.

"I think you misunderstand my point—" Home began.

Whitaker jabbed a finger at her. "Redeploying one single soldier would be an invitation to any fanatic with a bug or a bomb to hold America hostage. Mark my words. We withdraw from the Arabian Peninsula and it will never end!"

Hart cleared his throat with a cough. "Aaron makes a good point, Mr. President. Our policy with good reason has been to never negotiate with terrorists."