Pandemic

Aziz's smile grew wider. "Not anymore, Major. Along with the Gansu strain, we inoculated our pigs with the more contagious but far less lethal forms of the common flu. We tried several recent flu strains without success. But when we introduced the Beijing Flu to the mix…" He clasped his hands together in a sign of victory. "Something clicked. It would appear that we have developed a more infective version of the Gansu Flu."

"How much more?" Sabri asked.

Aziz looked down at his hands, and seemed surprised to see how he held them. He unclasped his hands and brushed away at imagined dirt on his pristine lab coat. "In our original human experiments, we had a transmission rate of roughly twenty percent after ten minutes of close contact," he said. "This was comparable to what we found with the monkeys."

"And with this new mutation?" Kabaal asked.

"We have not run the experiment in humans, only monkeys, but the rate is closer to sixty to seventy percent." He nodded proudly. "In other words, it is at least three hundred percent more contagious."

CHAPTER 32

GLEN ECHO HEIGHTS, BETHESDA MARYLAND

Haldane awoke with a start, but for a moment he was unsure whether he was still dreaming. From the guest-room bed, he stared up at his wife who stood beside him in nothing but a long T-shirt, which only reached her upper thighs. He wondered if Anna had come to join him. That had not been part of the agreement. But the sight of her supple form looming above brought a surge of arousal. Despite his intentions, at that moment he wanted nothing more than for her to shed the T-shirt and climb under the covers with him.

Instead, she raised her hand from her side and offered him the cordless phone. "Sorry to wake you, Noah," she said. The edge in her voice did not strike Noah as apologetic in the least. "But she told me it was important."

Haldane rubbed his eyes in an attempt to regain his bearings. He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, which read: 5:12 A.M. "Thanks," he said, clearing the sleep from his voice. He took the phone from Anna.

Anna hesitated a moment. She stared at Noah with a mix of hurt and concern on her face, before she turned and walked out of the room. Haldane's eyes followed her out of the room as the cold predawn reality sapped every shred of desire from his earlier dreamlike state.

"Hello," he said into the receiver.

"Noah, sorry to call so early," Gwen said.

"No problem." He cleared his throat again and sat up in the bed. "What's going on?"

"The National Security Council has called an emergency meeting for 6:30 A.M. The President wants us both to attend."

Noah hopped up from the bed, fully awake now. "Gwen, what's going on?"

THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.

Haldane had heard of the White House Situation Room, but he never imagined he would see the inside of it let alone be invited to a critical incident meeting there. Haldane followed Gwen and the Secret Service agent through the White House's West Wing. Weaving through the basement floor, Haldane realized that the Situation Room is not one single room but a maze of offices and rooms, the largest of which is a wood-paneled conference room with a long rectangular table in the center and video screens lining the wall.

Haldane wore his most conservative suit, dark gray, with a white shirt and a dark tie. With her hair again pinned back, Gwen wore a businesslike navy jacket and pants, but she complemented her white blouse with a heavy silver chain, giving her outfit a dash of flair. Watching Gwen, Noah realized that he had started to pay attention to the little details about her. He had even begun to anticipate the subtle perfume, which he could smell only from within arm's reach. He had not experienced anything similar for anyone but Anna in so long that the feelings struck him as foreign, and slightly unnerving.

He shook off the thoughts and focused on the reason for his attendance at the White House. His mouth went dry, his palms moistened. A critical incident meeting of the National Security Council meant something had developed in the past hours — good news or bad, he was certain it would be significant.

The Secret Service agent led Gwen and Noah into the conference room where many of the NSC members had already assembled at the table. Savard's boss, Ted Hart, spoke with Aaron Whitaker, the Secretary of Defense, who looked even more hostile now than he had during their earlier videoconference. Andrea Home, the National Security Advisor, was deep in conversation with a graying, elegantly dressed woman who Noah recognized as the Secretary of State, Katherine Thomason. Other individuals, including the three men in military uniforms, looked familiar to Haldane but he couldn't place their names or titles.