Don't be such a cynic, he told himself. Keep an open mind.
"Okay, do you think your research files have been safe? Iraq has been a mess for some time. Where did you leave the files?"
Her silence was his only answer.
Austyn decided to change direction, to work on her empathy again. "The sample microbe we found at your lab. Did you witness the effects of the microbe on complex organisms?"
She nodded.
"Laboratory animals?"
"No," she said quickly. "I… I…" Her voice trailed off.
His mind jumped at the possibility. "Humans?" he asked hesitantly.
"One," she said quietly. "One person was accidentally exposed to the microbe."
Austyn saw her green eyes mist up before she looked away. She wasn't lying now.
"You watched him die?"
"I watched him suffer. But no, death did not ensue. There is a remedy. The microbe can be stopped."
Chapter Ten
We need a specific location. Give me the sector. We're not mobilizing personnel without knowing where specifically we're going and what specifically we're after." General William Percy, commander of the multinational forces in northern Iraq, barely waited until Faas Hanlon was through talking before leaning in to object. 'This is not some picnic excursion."
"I know that, General," Faas retorted in the same sharp tone. "I told you that we're operating by the seat of our pants. As of yesterday, fifteen Americans are dead. Thanks to the media, the American public has now seen images of those victims. We have no answers to give people, and with every passing hour the news reports are adding fuel to the fire. Fear is a very real problem now. If there is another outbreak, people could panic. We're talking about an entire terrified population with nowhere to run. People don't even know what they'd be running from. We have no choice but to pursue every option."
"All I'm asking for is a specific location," Percy barked. "We've lost enough troops. I won't move soldiers into any area unless I have some intelligence data."
"She's not giving us anything too specific," Faas Hanlon barked back. "Erbil International Airport. She's telling us to get her there, and then we'll get the next step."
"We can make her talk," Percy said matter-of-factly. "Even with the new directives."
"We've had her for five years under the old rules, sir, and she's said nothing," Faas argued. "She's in the custody of Homeland Security agents now. She's cooperating with us, and we intend to work with her."
"You don't even know if she's behind all of this or not. Your people aren't experienced enough to—"
"They obviously had enough experience to get her talking," Faas broke in, defending his agents. "The woman is not behind these outbreaks. She's been in black sites for five years. She's had no contact with the outside world. There's no way she could be running some biological attack on the U.S. long-distance from our own prisons."
"Your people have determined that the only known match for the bacteria was found in her lab," Percy reminded him sharply.
"We're getting sidetracked, gentlemen."
Everyone in the room swung around to look at the large-screen TVs at the far end of the room. President Penn's face was stern and he had the look of an annoyed schoolteacher.
Over a dozen top people from various branches of the armed forces filled the table in the room. The vice president was here as well. The head of the Joint Chiefs sat beside General Percy, and the commander of CENTCOMM — the Unified Combatant Command unit for the Middle East and Central Asia — sat on the other side of him. President Penn was on the center TV screen. The flanking screens showed the others gathered in the West Wing conference room. The director of the CIA sat opposite the national security adviser. The Speaker of the House and the head of FEMA were both in attendance. Faas looked at the director of Homeland Security seated beside the president. It would ultimately be President Penn's call, but the commander in chief's face was giving nothing away.
The meeting had a short agenda. Updates were provided on Reynolds Pharmaceuticals' ramped-up schedule for the DM8A antibiotic. The first batch was coming off the production line in five days. There were distribution issues that needed to be addressed — where, how many units, instructions and waiver information in the event of release and public consumption. They still didn't know if this specific antibiotic would have any effect on the strain of microbe that was producing the new necrotizing fasciitis they were facing. They couldn't afford not to pursue every option, though. Faas hoped the reports from the FBI labs in Phoenix, where the bodies had been moved, would be encouraging. A number of simultaneous tests were being conducted using DM8A on lab samples while the autopsies were being conducted. NIH was running those tests.
Another topic on the agenda pertained to how much of this potential disaster President Penn would relate in an address to the nation tonight. Reporters were acting more like wolves than usual. They were everywhere, hounding everyone.
The situation threatened to spiral out of control. The National Guard — already stretched thin because of deployments overseas — had already been called to Phoenix, Los Angeles and San Diego, in response to looting last night after the first of those photos showed up on the major networks. The government had made no other response except to call for calm. All questions would be answered tonight. Penn's advisers knew it was only a matter of time before the deaths in Maine would be tied to the outbreak in Sedona. They needed to head that off, but they also needed to have an emergency-response strategy in place that would help to calm the fears of the public.
Faas Hanlon had been running worst-case scenarios in his head for days now. An outbreak in an urban center. New York. L.A. Chicago. D.C. Preliminary reports were telling him that the super-microbe could possibly be transmitted by way of water supplies, though they were still working on the lifespan of the bacteria, as well as its susceptibility to heat and cold. Those worst-case scenarios, he knew, represented an international disaster that would make the plague look like a walk in the park. After all, the Black Death had only killed about a third of Europe's population. This plague could change the world in ways that were unimaginable.
Faas knew he was the only one in this room who was possibly holding a trump card. The phone call from his agents in Afghanistan had come late last night. Dr. Rahaf was admitting that she'd developed a remedy for this strain of bacteria years ago. She was willing to take them to where she'd saved a backup of the files that had been destroyed in the raid on her lab. Faas knew this was the biggest break they'd had so far. And that was why he'd insisted on speaking first at the meeting and putting everything he and his people needed on the table.
Austyn Newman and Matt Sutton were both competent agents. Austyn was upbeat about the prisoner's cooperation, but at the same time he'd voiced his concern that this could be a ploy on the part of Banaz. He told Faas that she could be using this simply as a way of giving them the runaround. Faas was willing to risk it, but Austyn would need to press her all the time. And if he decided that no files really existed, he was to cut the wild-goose chase short.
That trump card could still turn to shit in his hand, Faas knew, but he would hold it as long as he possibly could.
Austyn had also mentioned his suspicion that U.S. forces might have captured the wrong Dr. Banaz five years ago. Faas had directed him to keep this bit of speculation quiet, at least until they had substantial proof. If they didn't have Rahaf Banaz, then at least they had an important connection to her. And that was good enough for now. If Rahaf Banaz was still alive, and Austyn was escorting her sister around Kurdistan, then the wild goose might just come to them. Stranger things had happened.