Page 14 of Airborne
“Who’s asking you to? Leave me alone.” He ended his comment with a few additional words not in her vocabulary.
“Why is getting to Germany so important? I’d like to understand.”
He snorted. “As if I’d talk to a Fed.”
“You might want to rein in your pride and cooperate.”
“I haven’t done a thing to deserve this but demand my rights.”
“What about threatening to kill that young woman?”
The man curled his lip. “You Feds are all alike. Push people until they fight back, then make an arrest.”
“Once we land, I have no choice but to turn you over to the FBI.”
“Those were your plans anyway. What’s new?”
She opened his wallet to his driver’s license. “Braden Taversty. Houston address. The photo looks like you.”
He sneered. “It’s supposed to.”
“Your attitude is commendable. Won’t get you far in front of a judge.” She pulled her phone from her bag and typed an email toASAC Mitchell with the incident and Braden Taversty’s identification information. Now to see if the man had a record.
Until the last few hours, she’d counted on her training and stubbornness to get through adversity. But the disaster called for knowledge she didn’t possess.
The pilot announced the plane’s initial descent. Heather wanted to believe the ordeal would soon be over, but in truth, she suspected it was only beginning.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I AM SHIELD.The source of the virus and how I walked through security undetected is my secret—a stroke of clear genius. I put aside my mental research about how the virus posed symptoms sooner than calculated. The release is done, and I’ll analyze my error in the near future. Meanwhile, I’ll observe the virus do its best work. I need to contemplate what the next several hours mean to the success of my plan.
A more urgent matter drives a stake into my thoughts. The virus cannot spread if the victims are hospitalized or in quarantine. A problem for me to work through.
Once we land, the CDC will move its teams into action.Doggedbest describes each person assigned to the flight. Every inch of the plane and its contents will be examined for traces of the virus. Feds will thrive on getting their job done.
A team will inspect the plane’s air cycling system designed to maintain cabin pressure while keeping it fresh and at a comfortable temperature. I should know since I memorized the plane’scomponents. One of the virus’s characteristics is the ability to go undetected by advanced filtration systems, which comforts me in the midst of these sick and dying people. The virus spread as designed, and for that, I’m pleased.
Pushing aside the success of the virus, I concentrate on additional law enforcement teams who will assist the CDC. They’ll have the responsibility to examine food, clothing, beverages, trash, the sewer system—nothing escapes scrutiny. They won’t rest until the traces of the virus are found and they discover how it has been smuggled on board. I must believe my role is impossible to detect. They will have no choice but to concoct some tale to please the public.
Am I safe? The passengers and flight crew will have medical personnel discerning everything about our physical health, and I don’t mind. The vaccine will never show up. I’m simply a strong human whose body is immune.
An idea strikes me, an excellent thought.
CHAPTER NINE
CHAD STARED AT THE SHADOWED CEILING FANabove his bed. Adjusting to his new furnished apartment came with a learning curve, as though the lease had embedded the warning in fine print. After four weeks, his body should be accustomed to the hum of the air-conditioning and the absence of Heather. Why did her light, citrusy body spray linger on the sheets and pillowcases when he’d bought them on move-in day? Or did his senses ignore her absence?
The wave in her shoulder-length auburn hair and the spark of mystery in her sea-green eyes held him captive. At their condo, the added touch of fresh flowers welcomed him home at night—something he never thought he’d miss. Chad sensed her presence the moment she stepped into a room. The lilt of her voice had an uncanny way of filling him with peace.
Adapting to the single life had drawbacks, and he’d find some way to unshackle her from his life and heart. He’d deleted her photo from his cell phone and every email and message she’d ever sent him.
But he’d never remove her memory.
Chad checked the time. Six hours until he unlocked the door to his office and delved into the lab results from the previous day. He could try sleeping at his office and lab, as if it mattered where he spent his nights. At least the familiarity of a sterile setting might help the insomnia, and his assistant never arrived before 7a.m.
In three weeks, he’d welcome a permanent position in the National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, a part of the influenza division at the CDC in Atlanta. Heather had no clue—no one in Houston did. Here she’d be safe... protected.
Chad had his longtime friend, Jordan Radcom, director of the CDC’s Division of High-Consequence Pathogens and Pathology, to thank for the coveted position. Over the past thirty-plus years, the CDC had investigated an average of one contagious disease per year, and soon he’d be a part of the federal agency’s respected role in conquering disease.
