“Should we quarantine the entire suburb?” Conway asked.
“It may be necessary. But we don’t know yet since the CDC team isn’t on site to assess the extent of the release.”
Conway added, “I’ve got to notify the mayor and the governor, too. The FBI director’s already called me twice since we alerted their war room. Anyone else?”
Samson sighed and his face drooped. “We have to face the possibility that this is a national release. The Department of Homeland Security, Defense Department, and the National Security Council will have to come in at some point, along with the president.”
Joan interrupted, “Hey folks, hate to burst your bubble, but we’re here and that means Homeland Security already knows.”
“It’s too early for all that, Stan,” Dr. Kumar said.
Samson’s eyes lifted to meet his and then moved around the room. “How do you know?”
After a silence, Conway cleared his throat with a low gurgle. “How do I protect my own people?”
Samson said, “When the CDC team arrives, they can vaccinate everyone who’ll have primary contact with the release. Law enforcement and health workers have priority. The closest hospitals and emergency rooms get second priority. We must maintain the viability of the medical personnel. If they’re overwhelmed, we all lose.”
“What about the kids who could be infected?” Valentini said.
“If the CDC has enough vaccine, of course anyone that’s determined to have been infected will get the vaccine. They’ll also be isolated at the closest hospital and monitored in quarantine.”
People in the room attacked their cell phones and made the necessary calls.
Dr. Kumar sat down beside Samson and said, “Stan, it’s damn lucky we participated in the national symposium back in ’99. Did you ever think …?”
Paul’s cell phone buzzed. He opened it and read the message from Zehra. It confused him since she texted him that she would be going with Mustafa to Hiawatha High School for a science fair. Zehra also included the address. Why would she send him the text? Wasn’t Mustafa some guy she had met or was dating? Paul didn’t have time to think about it. He saved it and closed the phone.
Conway walked over to him. “You know where this mosque is, Paul?”
“Yeah. I was there earlier, and the witness Abraham, told me about it.”
“Do you know when the meeting was supposed to occur?”
“Sometime tonight.” Paul caught his breath. “Wait a minute! The services at the mosque began already, at noon. The meeting could be at anytime after, or even during the service.”
“Like right now?” Conway crossed his beefy arms over his chest.
“I’m moving.” Paul hurried toward the door.
They jumped into the elevator and fell to the basement. Paul jogged to his car.
He roared up the ramp, swiped his access card over the exit machine, and came out into the bright sun of the afternoon. Heat and humid air surrounded the car. Paul rolled the windows down and swerved through the traffic.
At his house, Paul took only enough time to grab the olive drab Glock 21, the one that shot the big.45-caliber bullets.
Removing his suit jacket, he twisted into his shoulder holster and settled the gun under his arm. He picked up his vest, just in case, and raced up the stairs.
Back in the car, he lurched out of the driveway. He glanced at his watch. He calculated about thirty minutes to the mosque. What about the CDC people? he wondered. He called Dr. Kumar on his cell phone.
“They’ll set up things as fast as they can. I’ll help you work with them,” the doctor answered.
“When we get there, will they be able to start vaccinations?”
“Not immediately. Because the dosages of vaccine are limited, they’ll insist on an accurate diagnosis first. Depending on what they discover, we’ll react.”
Paul sat back in his seat. “Wait a minute. You mean when we get there, I can’t just seal-off the area and let them get to work?”
“You should set up the containment perimeter with the local police to help, but no, things won’t work that fast.”
“But don’t they understand that the release could be going on right now? That we’ve got to arrest Ammar, that the stuff could be spreading as we’re waiting for them?”
Paul could hear him sigh. “In this situation, they run the show and no one can tell them what to do.”
He barked into the phone as he pushed the car faster. “Well, how long does this diagnosis take? I hope they can do it on the spot. We may already be too late.”
“Uh … first, they’ll have to fly it by a military plane to Atlanta to be analyzed in their maximum containment laboratory.”
Forty
Joan Cortez had armed herself earlier and brought along the two agents she trusted the most. George Eppert and Teddy Vang sat with her in the unmarked Immigration and Customs Enforcement SUV as they raced south toward the mosque.
She didn’t have to ask if they were armed. Besides, the SUV had back-up weaponry if necessary. Extra pistols, two short-barreled shotguns, and a Taser rested in the back end.
They had all changed into lightweight Kevlar vests, covered by blue jackets with large yellow letters identifying their agency. Joan pulled her hair back and tucked it under a baseball cap. The vest hugged her chest and felt hot and tight.
“What’s the plan, Boss?” Teddy asked.
“Simple.” Joan glanced at him in the driver’s seat. Teddy was small but one of the toughest agents she’d ever worked with. “We ignore all this epidemic shit and go for the gold. We’re gonna be the ones to take down this guy, Ammar.”
“You can ID him?” Teddy asked.
“Close enough. I’ve got a description. He’s an Arab. Should be easy.”
Teddy frowned. “You sure about this …? What if we get the wrong dude. You know how these Somali religious guys are. We’ll get sued and worse yet, get our faces on TV. The director won’t be happy.”
“I’m taking responsibility for the mission. If we get this guy, our future’s made. The rest of these idiots will be running around with test tubes while we save the country.” She rolled down her window to let warm afternoon air into the SUV. “Besides, the way the FBI treats us, I’d love to stick this up their ass.”
Teddy shrugged and swerved between open slots among the cars heading south on the interstate. He pushed the vehicle up to eighty.
George leaned forward from the back seat. “What happens when we get there?” He wasn’t the smartest agent she had, but Joan knew he was competent, loyal to her, and the best agent she could get for back-up.
“I’ve got the address for the mosque,” Joan said. “We cover all exits and force our way in. I figure we’ll trap the guy in there or at least, be ready when he shows. If necessary, we’ll rescue the kids and still make the grab.”
“Expect any problems from the local Somalis in the mosque?”
“Who knows?” Joan turned to face George. “Speed is our best weapon. Make the grab, secure him, get him in the vehicle, and get the hell out of there before they know what’s happened.”
George grunted and sat back. “So we need the shotguns.”
“Right. Both of ’em.”
In ten minutes, Teddy arrived at the area of the mosque in Burnsville. As they cruised the adjacent streets, it was obvious they’d beaten everyone else.
A long, low row of attached offices stretched along the road to their right. One story, flat roofed, with a single door in the front of each office unit. Teddy slowed to turn around the backside of the building. A large parking lot butted up to the loading docks on the backside. Each office had two rear entrances-the loading dock and a regular door. The loading dock door rested in a closed position.
“George, you’ll take down the front,” Joan ordered. “Take one of the shotguns.”
Teddy circled around to the front of the building again.