Chapter Eight
♥
“Mr. President, we have a problem.” Alexandra watched the monitors in front of her, scrolled through pages of information, and started typing interdepartmental memos in the time it took the stunned president to assure her everything was well in hand and their intelligence agency had provided him with enough information to convince him there would be no attack. “Willing to bet your life on their intel, sir?”
She rolled her eyes when he told her his intelligence channels were flawless and gave her new marching orders. Incredulous, she repeated his order as a question back to him, “You want me to head to Singapore immediately? Ah, sorry, no can do. I’m already back in my lab at Cincinnati, working on a defense for the disease that isn’t going to hit our shores. So inform whoever advised you to send me on another wild-goose chase, I am very good at playing the game. They might want to try a new strategy, because I won’t fall for being sent out of town ever again. I will send my best scientists in my stead, but I will not go to the front lines again.”
There was a moment of silence before the president’s cold tone informed her, “Is there some misunderstanding you believed I made a request of your time that you could refuse? Your job—”
She laughed. “I memorized every word of our formal agreement, Mr. President, and with all due respect, I’ll gladly remind you what my government is paying me a salary to do. I regret either your naive or blinded to the truth under your nose.”
The president remained silent and so she continued, “As your advisor, I will continue to do my job. I anticipate. Prevent. Intercept. Cure. And if all else fails, I’ve also been known to pray in dire circumstances. I’ll be advising the CDC as to their role later this evening and make an announcement to the press.
“Based on what information?” President Keane asked cautiously.
“Mr. President, trust me, please, because I have to believe the reason you assigned me to this position is because you are impressed enough by my professional and ethical record you know you can. I am advising you that your intel has been compromised, and our only recourse is to react as quickly as we can to avoid a national disaster the likes of this country has never seen.
“My advice is to support mandatory vaccinations for all first responders in every state’s largest cities when I release the stockpile of an avian-virus vaccine I have in my warehouse, and allow me to do my job by focusing on their education and that of the nation so when symptoms develop, they react appropriately.”
“Sounds like you would be instigating panic. We haven’t had a single case reported.”
“Ignore my advice at the peril of this nation, President Keane. I believe we have active cases here that have gone unreported. They may be ill at home or in a hospital. The dead may be languishing in morgues, spreading the disease to everyone that has access to the remains. The dead cannot be buried, they must be cremated.”
“If that does not happen?”
“The virus will spread like wildfire during a drought and by the end of the week our citizens will be running about in desperation, wearing paper masks—which won’t do them a bit of good—and in two weeks’ time the fatalities recorded in Singapore will be insignificant compared to here. Singapore was a test run. If you refuse to heed my advice, I will be forced to issue a Human Remains Seize and Cremate Order for mass, quick disposal.”
“Jesus. This is the United States of America. That will not happen here.”
Alexandra shook her head “I knew you would refuse. I also know that when I insist Theodore Nash and Ben Barton be questioned—you remember, the two men who tried to kill me last month and succeeded in killing eight of my associates― so we can figure out who is funding the Extinction Event, because I believe this is merely a short play to see how prepared we are to fight the war.”
Alexandra ended the call and called her pharmaceutical lead, Lisa Lin. “Did you receive my e-mail? Good. What percentage of employees reported for mandatory vaccination? Jesus. Seventy percent isn’t good enough. We need one hundred percent compliance, especially from the CDC and HLS field agents who will be investigating reports. Yes, whatever it takes. Failure to comply within the next twelve hours will result in immediate termination.”
Alexandra made a final call. “Jose, favorite intern and almost son, please tell me production is ramped up and exceeding expectation? Fabulous. See, I knew you had potential. I need fifty batches delivered to my office and a single pediatric vaccination. Along with all the documentation required to get it through customs.
“I don’t have six to eight weeks for approval. I have today. So, let’s see some miracles happen. We all know someone important. Find the right someone. And yes, I have been told I’m insane on numerous occasions. I love you too.”
Alexandra entered the elevator and bypassed the second lower level floor to go to her office, where she showered and changed into a turtleneck and yoga pants. She was travel weary, had lost track of hour many hours she’d gone without sleep, but there still wasn’t time to catch up.
A tap on her suite’s door lured her into the office. Jose stood on the other side of the glass door. He handed her a small box. “Fifty plus one. The pediatric vaccination is clearly marked.”
She winked. “You’re a peach.”
“You look awful.”
“Thank you.”
“Need some zippity-do-dah for your day?” he asked, reaching into his lab coat for the bottle of pills she knew he passed out like candy when the staff started running double and triple shifts.
“I am actually hoping for a quick nap before I face the press shortly.”
“So, the storm is really coming?”
“We will see, won’t we?”
He handed her the bottle. “You and I both know this isn’t a one-day event.”
Alexandra nodded and took the bottle. “You know I do not encourage the rampant misuse of amphetamines in this office, right?”
He saluted and winked. “Boss, I hear you.”
She exhaled and pocketed the pills as he walked away.
♥ ♥ ♥
Alexandra stepped into her executive secretary’s office, reading the name plate on her desk—Melissa Wells—because honestly, she’d never noted the woman’s name. She removed fourteen of the vaccines plus the pediatric vaccine and pocketed them. “I need you to package these samples in unlabeled boxes and send them overnight to the names and addresses on this sheet. The number of samples to be delivered to each address is in brackets.”
Melissa opened the box and, seeing the vaccines, frowned. However, she met Alexandra’s gaze and replied, “Will do, Dr. Van Zant.”
Alexandra descended in the elevator. Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon stood on the other side and had to step aside for her to leave the transport. She asked, “News?”
“Not yet.” Conor answered, meeting her gaze. She saw his eyes were tired and worried. She guessed he hadn’t slept since she‘d abruptly left.
She brushed her knuckles against his. “Good. Maybe I’m wrong.”
Gabe handed her a slip of paper with two columns of names. Listed at the top of the first column was Theodore Nash, and the second Ben Barton. “Money chain.”
“Why did this take so long?”
“It’s not a complete list. Compiling this has taken almost five weeks, and my source hasn’t identified the original source yet.”
“Fuck. There are no common associates? How can this be?”
“Both men are covering their tracks very well. Wouldn’t it be easier to just put these dogs out of their misery?” He winked at her, making a recent conversation surface.
“A decade is a lot of blank to fill. I’ve had dozens of sexual encounters, none of which resulted in children. I’ve also had many deadly encounters. Do you want a detailed list of each, or would you prefer to cross each bridge as we come to it?”
“No, but thank you for offering. I’m sure you know a good vet. I’m just not ready to cross that bridge yet.” More loudly, she said, “I need everyone to gather around.”
Karen and the Secret Service agent assigned to Rowan stepped into the circle. She handed each a nasal-spray syringe and explained, “We all need to be vaccinated against what could be coming. One of the perks of working here is we are the guinea pigs. I used the product over a month ago, when the first batch came off the line, and had no adverse side effects, not even a runny nose. That said, there have been side effects reported, which include headache, sinus pain and inflammation, sore throat, dizziness, and vertigo. One of my lab techs described it as being kicked in the head by a mule.”
She twisted the top and pulled. “Once you have broken the safety seal, place the nozzle as deep inside your nostril as it will go and squeeze, like this.”
She demonstrated the action without actually using the sample.
“The important part is to snort it in. Basically, deep breath through one nostril.”
Each did as she asked, and she collected the empty vials, double-checking to make certain enough of the liquid had been inhaled. “Well done. You are now ready to face the Singapore flu pandemic.”
Gabe’s brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. “If reports are just breaking about the deadly outbreak, how were you able to prepare for it so far in advance?”
Alexandra smiled. “Do you know how competitive and lucrative pharmaceuticals are? This corporation was built on reconnaissance, espionage, and an extensive surveillance network.”
“Disease spies?” Jonathon chuckled.
“Essentially, yes. Managing diseases, anticipating this year’s flu—it’s not just pretty faces in lab coats. I have intelligence centers capturing and processing data around the clock. The Singapore virus, basically a hybrid avian flu, has been in development for years. There have been small outbreaks in Vietnam and China all along.”
“So the news story that crazy reporter Andrea Webb cornered you about several weeks ago wasn’t just a half-baked conspiracy-theorist pointing at shadows?” Conor asked, rubbing his chin.
“No, she wasn’t,” Alexandra admitted. “And because of that report, I ordered an around-the-clock production of vaccine. It was a gamble that may have cost millions, but as it is―”
“You’ll make a fortune,” Jonathon speculated.
“Could but won’t. The news briefing I have scheduled in the morning will be to announce my philanthropic donation of vaccine to the masses.”
“The disease was cooked up in a lab?” Gabe asked.
She tilted her head. “Basically, yes. An off-shore United States lab. It was slated to be a biological weapon.”
“Against civilians?” Conor guessed.
“Biological weapons are always targeted at civilians. This biological weapon was a really bad concept.”
“Why?”
“Birds don’t obey borders. They also occasionally crossbreed.” When she noticed their confused expressions, she explained further, “A wild duck will fuck a domestic duck, so the disease doesn’t stay in the barnyard.”
“Please tell me you had nothing to do with the development of this weapon,” Conor demanded.
“I have never and will not ever create a disease to kill. So, no, I had nothing to do with the making of it, but I will have everything to do with stopping it. AODH’s Singapore flu vaccine was developed as a defense.” She pointed at the wall of television screens, which were all flashing to BREAKING NEWS: First case of Singapore flu confirmed in NYC.
“If you will excuse me, I have to dose up my baby girl and I’m incredibly nervous. I wish I’d called in a pediatric nurse.”
Conor held out his palm. “You hold her; I’ll dose her. I’ve dosed enough infants with the nasal flu vaccine at a free clinic I volunteer at when I go home to Ireland to know it’s easier when the mum holds the baby.”
She didn’t know his history, but even so wasn’t surprised by the admission, and handed him the spray syringe. “Thanks.”
Rowan was not happy about being woken up so abruptly, and wailed. Alexandra rocked her, but it made little difference to the angry baby who was kicking and screaming in her arms. Alexandra started crying too. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Conor squirted the vaccine into her nose and then rubbed her back. “She’s probably going to have a rough go next twenty-four hours. Let me try to comfort her, while you focus on what you need to do.”
“If she gets a high fever―”
“We’ll get it back down, and if we can’t get it down fast enough, we will call the pediatrician Dr. Claassen referred you to. Stop worrying.” Alexandra met his gaze and exhaled, handing him Rowan. The baby was no happier with him. “We will be fine. I promise. Go save the world.”
“Dr. Magnus. Do you have her number?” Alexandra was already scrolling contacts, but Conor caught her hand and pulled her nearer.
“I have both Dr, Claassen and Rowan’s pediatrician on speed dial.”
Alexandra nodded and stroked his cheek, but then he turned from her and sat in a thickly padded and upholstered rocker that also reclined. He settled Rowan in the middle of his chest and started softly singing her a Gaelic lullaby.
♥ ♥ ♥
Several days later, Alexandra was completely out of steam and horribly jet-lagged, having made trips to New York City, Chicago, Washington, DC, and Houston before returning to Washington, DC, for a press conference. She was again hidden in a room inside the White House, sitting in the same comfortable chair she’d sat in only five days prior, and again a camera was directed at her. She took a deep breath and exhaled. Behind her and out of sight, Gabe waited. He was the one bodyguard allowed into the room with her. Jonathon and Conor were again relegated to waiting areas.
The viewing screen through which she’d watched the president the last time was dark. Her press conference would precede the president’s by several hours. She shook her head and chuckled, the absurdity of the moment not lost on her. She’d been told having a secondary room and being live, albeit delayed by five minutes, was for her own protection. She could see the journalists slated to interview her as the camera panned over them.
The room was directly across the hall.
She again felt like the dirty little secret hidden away in a closet.
“Fuck it.” She stood and brushed out her black business suit. She wore a charcoal-gray turtleneck adorned with a few quartz stones on a bolo chain. Simple earrings.
“Xandra?” Gabe whispered as she walked past him. She didn’t answer him, so he fell in behind her.
She felt confident as she left the room and strode across the hallway to enter the room filled wall to wall with journalists, chatting among themselves loudly. Upon her entrance, the room fell eerily quiet. She ducked her head to hide the laugh, but it was caught on camera and was suddenly airing live on one of the many news stations represented. She walked the length of the room, stepped behind the podium, and quickly checked to see if the microphone was on.
She heard one of the nearest journalists speaking excitedly into his microphone. “We are now being joined by Dr. Alexandra Van Zant. This is a complete surprise, as we were expecting her to give a statement over a satellite feed.”
She looked at her watch and saw that her press conference was schedule to start in less than a minute. She lifted her gaze to scan the audience. “Good morning. I hope no one is too disappointed I decided it was important to meet with you in person.”
Stunned silence answered. She smiled coyly. “Is Gregory Michaels here?”
He stood. “Dr. Van Zant?”
“Would you like to open the discussion with a question? I do so hate prepared speeches, much preferring to go off the cuff.”
“Good afternoon, and I’m thrilled you’re here in person. Looks like I’m going to be going off the cuff as well, because I wasn’t aware we would be permitted to ask questions.”
She winked and pressed her hands flat on the podium. “So fun. Take a moment.”
“No, I’m fine.” He nodded confidently. “In the past forty-eight hours you have been labeled both a hero and an enemy of the state. Which is the truth? And how do you feel about either categorization?”
She opened her mouth, only slightly surprised. “The age-old question: Sinner? Saint? I’m neither hero nor enemy. What I am is prepared―for the worst from humanity and for the worst in the disease kingdom. It’s obvious in my mind, the personal credibility attack ads directed at both me and the current administration were created prior to the first case of Singapore flu ever being reported on US soil. Their anticipation we would fail to contain a disease as quickly as we did, angered them. I wish I could say I was surprised that the current administrations opponents hoped a rapid spread of the disease and multiple casualties would weaken President Keane’s base, but the lengths to undermine my efforts to save as many citizens as I could caused me great alarm. Also having a pompous blowhard on the late news accuse me of creating both disease and vaccine as a conspiracy theory made for a ludicrous media event, leaving most Americans feeling confused and hopeless.”
“I can see where you would be angry—”
“No!” She slapped the podium. “Sorry to interrupt, but I won’t allow anyone to color what I have actually said. I personally didn’t have time to feel a single emotion while diverting a health crisis because I was too busy coordinating response teams. After containment was achieved, after seeing millions of doses of vaccine given, and after calming the panic unscrupulous newscasters caused, I feel pride for the true heroes: the men and women who were on the front line—first responders, TSA agents, and emergency-room staffs who followed the new disease-response protocol perfectly―and the responsible news reporters who got the information right. The reporters here today who have been asked to fill this front row, who worked tirelessly through the crisis, providing honest reporting and instructions to our nation’s citizens competently and quickly, while remaining calm in the face of a possible crisis”―she gestured down the length of the row―“are heroes in their own right.
“If any of you would like to ask a question by raised hand, I will select journalists randomly.” Many hands went up, including that of a female journalist in the last row whom Alexandra recognized as one of her harshest detractors. “Selena Perez, I believe?”
“Dr. Van Zant. How much did your corporation financially benefit from the terror the first deaths caused?”
“AODH benefited in no way from the Singapore flu since the corporation donated the vaccines used to treat first responders, TSA and airline personnel, all medical staff, and the residents of the cities hardest hit who elected to accept the free vaccine.”
Another journalist stood without being called on. “You want America to believe you are a philanthropist, then?”
A moderator stepped in and asked the man who hadn’t introduced himself to be seated so she could call on journalists in some orderly fashion.
“It’s all right. I’ll address the question. I don’t want America to believe anything about me. The Singapore flu managing to come here was a statistical anomaly, which will have to be investigated thoroughly so we can understand what happened and be more prepared before another major disease crosses our borders. One hundred and twenty thousand people who tested positive for the disease were admitted to the hospital. Of those, four thousand and eleven deaths occurred, both statistics being lower numbers than the 2009 swine flu pandemic. A pandemic, I will note here, that generated less press and zero negative ads against the administration of the time. Which demonstrates the lengths an opposing party will go to in order to gain voters prior to an election year. The numbers clearly demonstrate this administration has stepped up to the plate when it comes to doing everything it can to protect citizens from an invisible enemy who holds loyalty to no man, state, nation, or continent.”
She pointed to a journalist in the front row. “Isaiah Washington, I believe?”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you have any comment on the speculation and conspiracy theories that surfaced reporting our nation was under a biological attack and our current administration refused to acknowledge it as such?”
“The news briefing I held the day following the first US case was important to stem the tide of speculation. When the disease surfaced in London, Hong Kong, Paris, Shanghai, Beijing, Sidney, Dubai, and Tokyo within hours of one another, it was easy to feel our world was being attacked. I made the call to the president after receiving word London had seen a dozen cases. We needed to be ready, because at that point it was only a matter of time before we saw our first case, which eventually did present in New York when the individual disembarked his flight from London. It was the immediate response of the president and CDC to raise the Emergency Response Activation to Level One, increasing the number of trained responders at all points of entry, which allowed us to gain control as quickly as we did.”
The questions seemed to go on forever but in reality only spanned thirty minutes. When the moderator finally announced, “Final question,” Alexandra could have kissed him, and then she saw the next person selected to speak was Cheryl Moritz. Great.
“Dr. Van Zant, I’m actually thrilled you mentioned the swine flu pandemic of 2009, because after it emerged on April ninth of that year, it spread to every state within weeks. The death rate was more than double the numbers of this latest pandemic and ended up being fewer than predicted at that time, though both deaths and hospitalizations were substantial, as you noted. There were zero conflicting negative ads meant to confuse people but multiple public-service announcements made to help. However, even with such simple-to-follow instructions, when polled, only fifty-six percent of Americans admitted they intentionally changed behaviors in response to advice given to avoid the transmission of disease. Do you believe the speech you gave the day after the very first reported case made any impact? And why did you feel it was important to give such a dramatic and heartfelt speech following the very first case?”
Alexandra was momentarily stunned, having expected another personal attack, but answered without pause. “I felt an urgency to address both facts and falsehoods to avoid mass fear and panic, because when we educate, arm, and prepare as a nation to meet an enemy as a united front, we win. Although this enemy was invisible, it was paramount we not treat it lightly. By immediately covering basic safety protocols and advising what actually would protect us and what wouldn’t do us a bit of good, and by getting pamphlets reiterating the safety information and providing a hotline number to call at the sign of first symptoms to each household as quickly as we did, we were able to save lives and prevent a national disaster.”
Cheryl Moritz spoke quickly into the microphone. “Dr. Van Zant, may I just take a moment to apologize for expressing doubt about your abilities. I think it is now clear to all of us―you are not only an American hero, but a global hero for taking on the unseen enemy rationally and intelligently, and those who tried to detract from your efforts with negative ads should be ashamed.”
Every journalist in the room stood and applauded.
Alexandra gaped at the woman’s praise, then blushed with embarrassment and tried to maintain her composure. “Thank you, Ms. Moritz.”
She smiled and waved as she exited and the president waited in the hallway, looking less than impressed. “Dr. Van Zant.”
“Mr. President.”
He shook his head. “I was warned you are a firecracker, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by anything you do. I’m glad you took my wife’s advice and made appearances on several morning talk shows while you were in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles. You changed the narrative and America loves you. They believe you single-handedly saved them from a pandemic nightmare.”
“Not even remotely. It took every hand on deck.”
“Spoken like a true hero. Keep up the good work.”
She bowed her head. What was appropriate etiquette for when a president complimented you? She didn’t have a clue.
“Dr. Van Zant, I trust you remember our first conversation?”
“It was an honor I will never forget.”
“You’ll follow through with the plan?”
“Be seen. Draw out the attackers so they can be caught and interrogated.”
Seemed like a weak plan then and a weaker one now, but she’d make certain social media recorded her every move in the hope of gaining a lead they could. “Now that I’m freed up from saving the world, I will be happy to carry out your orders.”
“Your team is on board?”
“My men?” She chuckled softly. “They fall in line. They are soldiers first and foremost.” The moment she said it, she realized the truth in the statement.
♥ ♥ ♥
As soon as they entered her private quarters at AODH, Alexandra made eye contact with Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon in turn and announced, “I am going to ask the three of you to do something for me, and I know you will be apprehensive, but I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t afraid for our safety.”
“You want us to be implanted with the tracking devices like the ones you and Rowan are sporting?” Gabe asked.
She met his gaze. “Yes. I trust you got the answers you needed from my tech team to quell your concerns?”
“Your tech team believes the devices they gave you were sent to California for further testing,” he replied with a narrowed gaze. “So who actually has the tracking capability and will be responsible for keeping the information safe? The government?”
“The government isn’t aware of the tags’ existence,” Alexandra replied.
“So who will be able to find you if you are kidnapped?” Conor demanded, and she glanced in his direction. She hadn’t been aware Gabe had shared the information, but wasn’t going to dwell on it. The rift between her and Gabe was already too wide, and if she trusted anyone on the planet to keep her alive, it was her three men.
“The four of us will be the only ones who have access to the tracking program. However, in the event we all go missing at once, I have granted three people access to the program, and I trust them not to break the seals on the packages I delivered to them.”
“Who?”
“My brother Simon, Major Davis, and the president.”
Gabe and Conor both shook their heads.
“Is it a perfect plan? Maybe. Maybe not. Keep me safe, keep Rowan safe, and you will never have to worry about it. So forget I asked. I just never want the lives of who I love most used as a weapon against me.”
“We didn’t say we refused to do it, love,” Gabe assured her.