A Heartbeat Away - Michael Palmer [146]
“My God!”
Again, Allaire took over.
“I might not be president long enough to stop its passage. Paul, the situation is truly at its most desperate. But there is a ray of hope.”
The light.
“I’m listening,” Rappaport said.
“The communication we received from Rhodes included a summary of his research data. He believes his mistake was in the ratio of the adjuvant he used to the amount of serum. He’s convinced a fifty percent greater amount of this protein is required in order to be effective against the virus—the ratio is something his program sent out that he misinterpreted. His only mistake, he’s calling it.”
“Can’t Rhodes just give himself another treatment with that added boost?” Rappaport asked.
“Too late,” Allaire said. “The massive dose of virus he shot into himself is overwhelming the treatment. The virus is already mutating—causing new symptoms. He’s bleeding from his nose, just like many of the people here. He admits it was overconfidence to inject such a large amount, but Rhodes is certain that a fifty percent increase will work for most, if not all of us.”
“So what’s the next step, Mr. President?”
“The serum is the key,” Allaire said. “But it is also unique. We can’t get another batch.”
“How can I help?”
“The FBI and the CDC are setting up a lab to prepare a new batch of treatment according to the specifications given to us by Rhodes.”
“Where?”
“One of our safe houses here in Washington. Gary will give the address to you. We need you and the Secret Service people guarding you to bring the serum to that lab. Genesis has been a step ahead of us at every turn, so secrecy has got to be your highest priority.”
“I understand. Consider it done, Mr. President.”
“Paul, this is it for us. This is the only chance we have. I don’t trust anybody but you to handle things. We’re sending three choppers in to get you. The pilots will know what to do from there.”
“I won’t let you down, Jim. How do I get the serum out of the lab?”
“Rhodes decontaminated the cooler containing the serum and is leaving it for you outside the door into the lab. You can retrieve it without having to put on a biocontainment suit.”
“What about Rhodes?”
Again there was a long pause.
“Rhodes is already quite ill,” Allaire said finally. “According to his estimates, he’ll be dead in a matter of a few hours.”
CHAPTER 65
DAY 10
12:00 MIDNIGHT (EST)
Angie checked her watch and paced about the dimly lit living room like a caged lioness. She drew in several calming breaths, but could do little to slow her excitement. She passed the time by mentally drafting her story, featuring Griff as the hero and Paul Rappaport as the mastermind behind Genesis. The prize at stake: the presidency of the most powerful nation on Earth.
The brownstone, she was told, was one of several safe houses in the metro D.C. area used by the FBI, the ATF, and the CIA. The understatedly elegant building, situated on a quiet street in the Adams Morgan neighborhood, had been used in the past to bait and trap spies, extortionists, arms dealers, child molesters, and con artists. Every room was bugged, and there were high-tech hidden cameras throughout. A few blocks away, a surveillance van would be serving as backup.
Angie would be safe, they assured her, but she had her doubts, especially when she was given a pistol—a Glock 19, they said, and a brief course in its use. The gun, a perfect fit for her, was somewhat reassuring. She had seen what Genesis was capable of, and believed that no place was truly safe from them.
For the thousandth time, she wondered about Griff. No one had told her anything. This was his plan, but he wasn’t there. He had requested that Allaire call him as soon as he had read the fax. What, exactly, had he told the president in that conversation? Was the story of the serum needing modification one that he had conjured up, or was it the truth? At the moment, it seemed to be at least a half truth, in which case, Griff might already be dead.
Rappaport believed he was transporting