A Heartbeat Away - Michael Palmer [21]
“So that’s when you shut down the program?” Tomlinson asked.
“In retrospect, I wish that were the case, Hank. Even with the setbacks, we still believed we had a silver bullet with WRX3883. I kept Vertias operational. Until the theft.”
“Theft?”
“Yes. Nine months ago, a presumed terrorist, working in the lab, stole five canisters of the virus. At least that’s how many we recovered from a compartment in the wall of his basement when we arrested him. Shortly after that I finally ordered the project shut down.”
“Did we have test animals at this Veritas lab?” Townsend asked.
“Yes. Mostly primates. Those were the research animals of choice for Dr. Chen. But she brought another virologist to Kansas with her—a scientist who was staunchly against animal testing and experimentation. His approach involved the use of advanced computer models of the virus and various treatments. He claimed his methods were capable of simulating, with near ninety-nine percent accuracy, the nature of the virus’s mutation patterns, as well as the effect of different antiviral drugs.”
“Ninety-nine percent sounds a bit optimistic,” Townsend said. “Especially given that his methods didn’t seem to work any better than Chen’s. So, what are we all in for here?”
“I’ll debrief you all about our exposure and what we can expect in a moment,” Allaire said. “But I can tell you that as far as contagion goes, the penetration statistics are daunting. Bethany, I know you’re angry. But I really need you. If you can, I’m putting you in charge of organizing our containment strategy. Veritas was headquartered in an underground facility. The lab had Level-Four containment, and aside from the insider theft I told you about, there were never any incidents. Gary will get you the contact information for the former director. Meanwhile, get in touch with the CDC and anyone else you need and have them help you. Try to maintain some control over who you tell what to. We’re going to need a whole bunch of containment suits and a safe way of getting food, medication, and personnel in here.”
For half a minute, Townsend simply sat there. Then, with painful slowness, she stood and crossed to the communications center.
“As you wish, sir,” she said.
“As for the rest of you,” Allaire went on, “I need you to be patient. Be as calm as possible. I’ve trusted you with this information because I think you can handle it, and because I need your help. We can’t risk starting a mass panic. Our hope now is that we develop a way to neutralize the virus and contain it inside the Capitol. All our energy and focus must be directed toward those efforts. And most importantly, I need you to support me and my decisions one hundred percent.” Allaire turned to architect Jordan Lamar. “All hell is about to break loose, Jordan. This building is going to be our home for a while. I’m counting on you to make it as comfortable for everyone as possible. Even though it’s the middle of winter, I’m worried that with seven hundred of us, the rooms are going to warm up fast from body heat, so we might need to boost the air-conditioning levels.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Gary, I need you to help me make two calls.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“First get me Paul Rappaport in Minnesota.”
“No problem. And the other?”
“I need the warden at the supermaximum federal penitentiary in Florence, Colorado.”
CHAPTER 10
DAY 2
12:15 A.M. (CST)
The guard’s riot stick, slamming against his cell door, intruded into Griffin Rhodes’s nightmare, but failed to drive it completely away.
The recurring dream was especially vivid this time, intense sounds and colors … and pain, like daggers thrusting through his eyes.
The dreadful ache was in his abdomen, too—a powerful cramping as if his intestines were strangulating. Griff felt his bowels let go, and knew the gush beneath him was blood.
Marburg virus! I … have … Marburg virus. Let me die! Please just let me die.
He tried to cry out the words, but there was no sound—only the terrible cramping.
Griff pounded impotently on the wall by his