“Yes, Mr. Shell. We have discussed that here. In addition to helping with the outbreak, you need to continue hunting for Ash. Any additional men you need, please request from your department head and they’ll be immediately assigned to you. As for the phone number, it was to a disposable phone purchased in Milwaukee, and no longer seems to be in service.”
The doctor was relieved. He’d dodged a bullet with the outbreak, since most of the blame seemed to be falling on Mr. Shell. He was still vulnerable on the Ash issue, but there was a way he might be able to improve that situation, too.
“Director? I have an idea about how we might be able to flush out Captain Ash.”
17
Ash pushed himself out of his chair and moved over to the monitor, his eyes firmly affixed on the image of Dr. Karp.
In rapid succession, he asked, “Is he some kind of spy? Who does he work for? Does the Army know?”
“Dr. Karp is an American citizen,” Matt explained. “Until three years ago, he worked for the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases. He was then transferred to a classified assignment. That assignment eventually brought him to Barker Flats.”
Ash looked at Matt, confused. “Are you trying to say that the U.S. Government did this to my family?”
“We’re saying that Dr. Karp and the people he’s involved with did this to your family.”
“But you just said he works for the Army.”
Matt paused, then said, “The Army pays him a salary, yes.”
“So you are saying the Army did this to us. There’s no way I’m going to believe that.”
“The Army didn’t do this to you.”
Ash stared across the table. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Captain,” Rachel said, her voice soft. “You have unfortunately found yourself in a situation that is much, much larger than you can imagine. We have been…following this for many years, and sometimes it’s too much for even us to grasp.”
“Oh,” Ash said, taking a step back from the table. “Oh, I get it. You’re one of those conspiracy groups, aren’t you? What is this? Some kind of indoctrination? Trying to recruit me? Well, thanks for your help, but it’s time for me to leave.”
He turned for the door.
“If you’d stayed in your cell in California, you’d be dead now,” Matt said. “That much you can’t deny. We got you out. We saved your life. The least you could do is give us a few minutes to hear us out.”
“I think I’ve already heard enough.”
Matt started to speak again, but Rachel silenced him with a look as she stood up and moved between Ash and the door.
“Captain, I understand your doubts and concerns. You are free to go, of course. But we don’t think that would be wise.”
“And staying here would be? With a bunch of crazies?”
She studied him for a second. “Just give me one moment.”
She walked over to a cabinet along the wall. From Ash’s angle he could see the envelope he’d brought from the desert sitting on the shelf inside. But if that’s what Rachel was retrieving, she didn’t get a chance to pull it out.
As she bent down, the door suddenly thrust open, and a man Ash hadn’t seen before rushed in.
“PCN,” he said quickly.
Matt touched the controls, and the television switched from the image of Dr. Karp to the Prime Cable News network. A Breaking News banner was running across the bottom of the screen, while the rest was taken up by a female anchor at the network’s New York studios.
“…confirm twenty-two deaths at this point. Roadblocks have been set up around the town, and no one is being allowed in or out.” The image changed to a shot of a desert highway. Parked across the road about fifty feet from the camera’s position were several military vehicles and a couple highway patrol cars. In the distance beyond them was what appeared to be the edge of a town.
“Residents of Sage Springs have been advised to remain in their homes until otherwise instructed. We’re told that a first-response CDC team is on scene now, and that more medical personnel are en route. To repeat, there has been a report of a severe outbreak of what looks like a deadly version of the flu in the town of Sage Springs, California.” The anchor put her hand to her ear. “All right. We have Tamara Costello now just outside the roadblock. Tamara, can you tell us what’s going on there at this moment?”
The voice changed but the picture remained the same. “Catherine, we have just been asked to tell anyone who has been in the vicinity of Sage Springs or the Mesquite Dunes Recreational Area in the past twenty-four hours to call a special hotline the California Department of Health has set up. I believe that number should be on the screen now.”
As if she were running the control room, the Breaking News banner was replaced by a new graphic that read Crisis in the Desert on one side, and had a phone number on the other.
“Though there has been no official announcement,” the reporter went on, “speculation, confirmed by unofficial sources, is that this is not some naturally occurring outbreak, but has been caused by the deliberate release of a virus. One source I talked to believes this is a terrorist attack.”
“Tamara, if it is a terrorist attack, why was it done in such an underpopulated area?” the anchor asked.
“Our viewers might be surprised to learn, Catherine, that this part of California boasts a lot of military installations such as Fort Irwin, the China Lake Naval Air Weapons Station, and, closer to Los Angeles, Edwards Air Force Base. There was a report of an explosion two nights ago at a small military facility less than a hundred miles from here that we are checking out. I should stress, though, that event remains unconfirmed, and any connections to the outbreak are unknown at this point.”
“Tamara, I understand officials are looking for someone in particular. Is that correct?”
The guy who’d come running into the conference room suddenly said, “Here it is.”
“Yes, Catherine. That’s correct.”
Ash stared at the television, stunned, as the image of the desert was replaced by a photo of him.
“Daniel Ash is believed to be a carrier of the virus, though apparently immune himself. We’re told that if anyone sees him they should call the hotline or their local authorities, but should not, under any circumstances, approach him.”
“Is there any indication that Ash is one of the people responsible for releasing the virus in the first place?” the anchor asked.
“No one is saying that, at least not officially. They are only saying he is a person of interest and—”
Matt turned the TV off.
“Thanks, Jordan,” he said to the man who’d come running in. “Record it.”
“Already going.”
Jordan left.
Ash gazed at the blank screen, numb.A person of interest?
Rachel put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
He continued to look at the TV a moment longer, then turned to her. “I…I should turn myself in.”
“That’s the last thing you need to do.”
Suddenly realizing her hand was still on his shoulder, he pulled back. “What if they’re right, and I am contagious? What if I’ve infected all of you? Oh, God! And those people who helped me get out of there, drove me here, they could be sick already.”
Billy leaned forward. “The incubation rate and course for this particular virus is extremely quick. From infection to death — anywhere from eight to twenty-four hours. The point is, Captain, if you were a latter-day Typhoid Mary, most of us would already be dead, and the rest dying.” He looked around. “Everyone looks pretty healthy to me.”
“How do you know that? How can you possibly know anything about this…this virus?”
“The only way we could have gotten you out of that facility was if we had someone on the inside,” Matt said. “The truth is, the only reason we even knew about you was because of him. The same person was also able to feed us information about the virus.”