Pandemic

With a laugh, Gwen leaned forward and, avoiding the coffee tray in his hand, pecked McLeod on the cheek. McLeod reached down, pulled a coffee from his tray, and handed it to her.

She smiled her thanks.

"You seem awfully happy to be free of quarantine," Haldane said to her.

"It's not just that" She shook her head enthusiastically. "I've got news." She flashed an openmouthed smile, and Noah noticed how perfect her teeth were. "And for a change it's good news."

"What is it?" Haldane asked.

She raised her coffee cup, as if offering a toast. "My mentor, Dr. Isaac Moskor, had a huge breakthrough with an experimental antiviral he's developed."

"With the Gansu strain?" Haldane said, suddenly swept up in her excitement.

Savard nodded and told them about Moskor's early results with the experiments on the African green monkeys.

When she described the scientist's reticence in proceeding to production of the drug, McLeod nodded in full agreement "He's got a point. Those are some bloody shaky grounds for exposing millions of people to a completely untested drug."

"Under normal circumstances, no question," Haldane said. "But with what we're potentially facing?" He crumpled the empty cup in his hand. "We're grabbing at straws here, and this one is as good as or better than any we've seen so far."

UNITED FLIGHT 3614

The three doctors spent most of the flight back to Dulles Airport lost in their own work. Savard had her laptop computer propped open on the tray in front of her, but she only seemed to hang up the air phone long enough to place another call. McLeod sat across the aisle from the other two, reading glasses on as he scanned through reams of journal articles. Though he went to great pains to imply otherwise, McLeod was among the brightest and most knowledgeable virologists Haldane had ever met. Aside from the levity he provided, McLeod was the stabilizing force on the WHO's emerging pathogens team.

Haldane focused his attention on Somalia, one of the few African countries where his WHO job had never taken him. Using his laptop's electronic encyclopedia, he scanned the sordid history of the former British and Italian colony while acquiring a rudimentary understanding of its arid climate, plainslike geography, and strife-ridden politics. He studied a detailed map. In a nation ruled by anarchy, it seemed to Noah that there was a vast amount of territory within which to hide a small terrorist base. Pin-pointing their lab might prove a daunting task even for the most powerful military and intelligence force on the planet.

While he worked, Haldane couldn't help overhearing snippets of Gwen's conversations from the seat beside. In the course of the flight, it sounded as if she had made strides in securing a pharmaceutical plant to mass-produce Moskor's new antiviral drug. Though he could only hear one side of the conversation, Haldane was impressed by her powers of persuasion, employing equal parts charm and intimidation to achieve her goal.

Catching her between phone calls, Haldane reached over and touched her on the sleeve of her jacket. "Gwen, if everything goes without a hitch, when is the soonest this drug would be ready?"

She shrugged. "They tell me three to four weeks."

"Hmmm," Haldane murmured.

"That's what they tell me," she said with a slight smile. "I've told them it has to be ready in one. Maximum."

Haldane nodded and pulled his hand from her arm.

She kept her eyes fixed on him. "You must be happy to be going home to her." Haldane didn't know whether Gwen meant his daughter or his wife, until she added, "You can finally celebrate her birthday in person."

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm pretty excited."

She cleared her throat and looked down at her notebook computer. "How will the rest of the reunion go?"

Haldane shrugged. "No idea," he said honestly. He had shared little with Gwen about his marital discord; and he never mentioned Anna's confused sexuality or infidelity. Gwen had inferred most of what she knew from how infrequently he spoke of his wife.

Gwen uttered a nervous laugh. "My situation is a bit more straightforward. I only have to settle up with my cat."

"And the media," Noah reminded her.

She closed the case on her laptop computer. "Yeah, them, too. I get the feeling I'm going to be on everyone's dance card once we get to D.C."

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A bit," she said. "It's only fair though. After all, I was supposed to protect the country from this kind of thing."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You don't blame yourself for what's happening?"

Gwen shrugged. When she met his stare, he recognized for the first time vulnerability in her green eyes. He wanted to stroke her cheek and hold her in his arms, but instead he said, "You were one of the few who predicted this scenario. What could you have possibly done differently?"

"I don't know," she said. "All I do know is that I'm the Director of Counter-Bioterrorism and the country is under virtual siege by bioterrorists. In my eyes that doesn't add up to good job performance."