Paolo climbed halfway down, waiting on a rung to assist his pregnant wife.
Virgil was next, followed by Shep. Paolo climbed back up and called for the cats, who scrambled down the hole. Resetting the trapdoor, he slid down the ladder, joining the others.
They were in an old wine cellar, the stone walls and mortar dating back several centuries. The room was stuffy but dry. Cardboard boxes and an old dresser were stacked against the far wall. “Please.” The Italian handed the oil lamp to Virgil, then he began moving aside the stack of boxes, assisted by Shep. Hidden behind the chest of drawers was a small wooden door sealed with a padlock.
“The passage connects with the Eighth Avenue subway line. We can follow it south as far as 103rd Street, then cut through Central Park. Francesca’s brother has a small boat in the Battery that can take us off the island.”
“The Battery? My wife and daughter are in the Battery!”
“Then the vaccine for your safe passage.”
“Yes, absolutely.” Shep opened the box, removing two of the remaining eight vials.
Francesca snatched the lantern from Virgil. “How do we know it even works, Paolo? How do we know it won’t kill your son?” Francesca shined the light on her belly, then at Shep. “Are you a doctor, Mr. War Vet?”
“The name’s Patrick, my friends call me Shep. This is Virgil. I have no medical training, so I can’t even guess whether the vaccine will affect your baby. So far, the only side effect I’ve experienced are hallucinations—”
“—which is why I haven’t taken it yet,” adds Virgil.
“No medical training, huh?” She held the clear elixir up to the light while her husband opened the padlock sealing the small door. “Three years ago I was studying to become a registered nurse, only I had to quit. Now, instead of working in a hospital with a decent insurance plan, I get to serve pizzas and care for the homeless.”
“Darling, now is not the time. Forgive my wife, she’s due any day now.”
Virgil squinted against the raised lantern. “For what it’s worth, Francesca, I was at the VA hospital earlier with Patrick. They had a pregnant woman infected with plague in an isolation tent. I suspect all who worked there are probably dead by now. As for the homeless, it seems they have repaid their debt.”
Paolo dragged open the wood door, unleashing a howling gust of cold air into the basement. “The homeless are no match for assault weapons, Francesca. Yes or no, should we take the vaccine?”
“For the baby’s sake, I’ll wait. You take yours.”
“Yes, that’s wise… my wife is the wise one.” Paolo loosened the cork, then drained one of the vials of vaccine. Lantern in hand, his wife crawled through the opening, followed by Virgil, Shep, and the cats.
Tossing aside the empty vial, Paolo dropped down on all fours and crawled in after them.
They were connected to one another via audio headsets, their spoken words translated into text on their monitors in French, Russian, Chinese, and English — the languages of the five permanent Security Council nations.
President Eric Kogelo drained his bottled water, waiting for the President of the Security Council to take roll.
“Hello. This is Rajiv Kaushik, the Assistant Secretary General. I regret to inform you that the President and Secretary General were both exposed to plague; neither is well enough to participate on this call. Unless there are any objections, I will be fulfilling their duties during this emergency session. Is the gentlemen from France on the line?”
“Oui.”
“The gentlemen from the Russian Federation?”
“Da.”
“The gentleman from China?”
“This is Xi Jinping. President Jintao has taken ill. Since I am the senior member of our party, the Standing Committee has requested my presence at this meeting.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jinping. Is the gentle lady from Great Britain with us?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“The gentleman from the United States?”
“Present.”
“Then let us begin with the gentleman from the United States. We have been repeatedly promised that an evacuation is imminent. Why does it seem we are purposely being left here to die?”
“My apologies if it feels that way. This situation is very serious. Our goal is to commence the airlift at dawn.”
A flurry of Russian shot back at President Kogelo, the translated text coming up on his screen in spurts. “This is a disgrace. Entire delegations have been wiped out. You cannot keep us quarantined, it is in direct violation of the United Nations charter.”
Kogelo took a deep breath, refusing to lose his cool. “President Medvedev’s concerns are shared by all of us, my own staff included. But let us be clear. We are facing an outbreak that could easily turn into a global pandemic if the quarantine is not 100 percent secured. The death toll in Manhattan has now exceeded half a million people. All of us have lost colleagues, allies, loved ones, and friends. The last thing any of us wants is to rush the evacuation without proper precautions and end up being the carrier who unleashes the plague in your own countries, and across the globe.”
“We have heard reports that this plague originated in your CIA-run bio labs.”
“Again, a half million people have died, more are suffering, and the vast majority are Americans. There will be a proper time to investigate and assign blame. For now, our priority is to safely transport United Nation diplomats and heads of state to a secure medical facility on Governor’s Island. To accomplish this requires each evacuee to wear a self-contained environmental suit, which will prevent any infected individuals from passing the plague on to others. The environmental suits are en route as we speak, they will be brought to your suites as soon as they arrive. I am also being told that a vaccine has been located that can not only inoculate but reverse the effects of the plague.”
Kogelo waited for the delayed murmurs as his words were translated. “While this is good news, there is another issue that must be discussed. Mr. Kaushik?”
The acting Security Council President took over. “President Kogelo has strong reason to believe Iran’s new Supreme Leader, upon his return to Tehran, will provide Iranian insurgents in Iraq, Israel, and possibly the United States with nuclear suitcase bombs. The transmission you are about to hear comes from a private conversation between Ayatollah Ahmad Jannati and a general who oversees the Qods training centers, which have been linked to insurgent activities.”
Everyone listened intently, their eyes scanning the text as it appeared in their own languages on the monitor.
The senior Standing Committee member from China was first to speak. “I do not hear a threat. I hear only Mr. Jannati’s intention to declare himself Mahdi.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Jinping, our intelligence agencies have provided us with a far more lethal interpretation of his intentions. We are requesting the Security Council to issue stern public warnings to Mr. Jannati, the foreign minister, and Iran’s hard-line clerics that any nation providing enriched uranium to terrorist organizations shall, in the event of an attack, suffer the same fate as the perpetrators.”
“And how are we to know, in the event of such an attack, whether the Iranians were responsible?” the Russian president retorted. “There are factions within your own government, Mr. President, that have been pushing for an invasion of Iran since Vice President Cheney was running the White House. How can we know if a nuclear explosion was not intentionally detonated by the CIA or Mossad in order to instigate war?”