by Lisa Harris
She held one of the thumb-sized vials to the light, needing confirmation that her boss’s fears were valid. The contents looked innocent, incapable of causing harm. Her jangled nerves steadied.
From a wire rack inside a liquid nitrogen container, Rachel carefully extracted a test tube. Inside the glass vial, a sheet of green monkey kidney cells coated the tube’s interior surface. She seeded the primate cells with a drop of the ancient virus then noted the procedure, the cell line used, and the one pm start time in Dr. Moreno’s notebook. Virus incubation periods varied anywhere from eight hours to years, but she was unwilling to leave these specific results to chance. She set the timer, sprayed her gloves with disinfectant, then wheeled her stool over to the computer.
Between checking the progress of the virus over the next four hours and recording the data, she googled Dr. Ballinger. She could confirm his team had been in Tibet, but if he’d discovered something deadly, he was uncharacteristically quiet.
When the timer alarm finally dinged, Rachel wheeled back to the biohood. If she was going to shut down the ridiculous notion that an ancient virus could infect humans, she might as well start with the primate tube. She dipped a sterile swab into the vial then smeared a sterile glass slide with the cells. She placed the sample under the lens of a low magnification inverted microscope.
A gasp clouded her mask. Heart rate accelerating, she fiddled with the focus control.
Dark aggregated blotches indicated molecular changes inside the monkey cells. Not only had an ancient giant virus awakened, in less than four hours it had proven its ability to replicate in vertebrates. A virus that could so quickly and efficiently break the barrier walls of healthy cells was a virus that might be able to break the barriers between animals and humans. Any virus with this kind of adaptability was a virus that must be contained.
Is this what Dr. Moreno had found that had him so clearly shaken?
Dr. Moreno had made himself clear that her findings were not to be shared via email or text, but she wasn’t willing to trust this shocking information to a notebook.
Rachel capped the vial of remaining monkey cells. She removed the slide from the microscope then sterilized everything. She slipped into the shower room and washed her suit beneath the sensor-activated chemical disinfectant showerheads. With the initial shower finished, she doffed her suit in the outer changing room, disposed of her protective scrubs, gloves, and socks in a biohazard container, showered her body head to toe with HydroClens, then quickly toweled and dressed in her street clothes.
Using her ID on the electronic pad, she locked the lab behind her and hurried to her boss’s office. When he didn’t answer the door, she checked the handle. Locked. She peered through the small glass window. Dark.
A tap on the shoulder caused Rachel to jump with a start then wheel. “Cara, you scared me to death!”
Rachel’s friend and fellow lab tech was dressed in a sexy red cocktail dress. “Come on, I don’t want to be late.”
“For what?”
“The meet and greet. Remember?” Cara thrust into Rachel’s arms the royal-blue, knee-length dress she’d forced Rachel to buy last weekend. “I got this from your office, but you need to hurry. Who knows how long it will take us to get across DC during rush hour.”
Water dripped from Rachel’s wet hair onto the gauzy fabric. The small drops quickly spread into wide overlapping circles, as if replicating themselves like the giant virus she’d just seen on the slide. How could she go to a party when there was a potential monster growing in her lab?
Rachel shoved the dress back into Cara’s arms. “I’m going to have to skip the party. I need to find Dr. Moreno.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” Rachel instantly regretted her harsh tone, but she couldn’t exactly give a full explanation.
“Dr. Moreno’s already left for the fundraiser. In fact, he’s been in meetings with potential investors all afternoon.”
“I know funding’s important, but—”
“Don’t even think you’re going to get out of this.” Cara jammed a balled fist on her narrow waist. “I know you prefer a hot date with one of your enthralling virus textbooks and a microwave dinner, but girl, you need to get out.”
How was she supposed to keep this assignment under wraps and get the help she needed without setting off her co-worker’s keen senses? “Look, Cara—”
“You need to have some fun.”
“I have plenty of fun.”
“Then maybe you should tell your face—because you look stressed.”
“I’m not stressed.” Rachel forced a smile. “I just really need to talk to him.”
Cara’s gaze scoured Rachel’s oversized sweatshirt, leggings, and tennis shoes. “Then you’ll have to come to the party.”
Rachel snatched the dress back from Cara, out of options. “Give me ten minutes.”
As the Uber driver wove through the Capitol’s rush hour traffic, Cara plied Rachel with lip gloss and questions about her top-secret project. Nearly out of diversions, Rachel was relieved when their car finally pulled into the artfully lit circle drive of the Au-Tenleytown home.
Two valets opened their doors, and the women got out.
Cara’s wide-eyed gaze traveled up the steps that led to the sparkling glass doors of the stone mansion. “Welcome to the land of the one percent, missionary girl,” she whispered to Rachel.
For a moment, Rachel wished she’d taken her big brother’s advice and not told anyone about growing up in the Amazon jungle. But she was proud of what her father had accomplished, despite the fact that bringing healing and hope to a forgotten people had cost him his life. Her father’s willingness to look beyond himself was the number one factor behind her own decision to follow in his medical footsteps. She was much more comfortable sitting around a cooking fire in a remote Columbian village than at a fancy urban party, but people could die if she allowed herself to be intimidated by a mountain of architectural stone and beveled glass.
Rachel tucked away her secret intent as if it were a dried curl that had escaped the messy bun she’d twisted atop her head. “Let’s find Dr. Moreno.”
Cara rolled her eyes at the improbability of Rachel loosening up enough to have fun. “Let’s find the bar.”
“You have fun your way. I’ll have fun my way.” Rachel stepped around her friend and rang the doorbell.
A man wearing a black tux and white gloves ushered them into a foyer bigger than the hospital lobby where Rachel had done her residency in epidemiology, then relieved them of their coats.
“I’m thirsty.” Cara took Rachel by the elbow. “Let’s find the champagne.”
“You should go easy. We’ve got to work tomorrow.”
“Not everyone works twenty-four-seven, you know.”
“I’ll catch up.” Rachel pulled herself free. “After I find Dr. Moreno.”
“Have you always been such a good girl?”
“Just OCD. Can’t move on until all of the puzzle pieces fit.”
Cara sighed. “You’re hopeless.” She turned and started drifting through the crowd decked out in glittery dresses and black tuxes. Members of Washington’s most connected and influential circles clustered around pub tables decorated with heavy linens and candles floating in glass vases filled with water.
Rachel rose on the tiptoes of her high heels and searched for Dr. Moreno’s distinguished gray hair.
“You look as uncomfortable as an unwanted genome in a virus.” The deep male voice behind her caused Rachel to pivot with a start.
The familiarity of the reference was nearly as attractive as the man with Ryan Gosling good looks behind tortoise-shell glasses and the perfect low-maintenance Ivy League haircut. Rugged stubble framed a confident smile that proclaimed he had better things to do with his time than primp. His crew neck white T-shirt, dark jeans, tweed jacket, and lace-up boots declared him independent of what anyone thought.
“D-Dr. Ballinger?” she stuttered.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
Even though she could feel his smoldering dark eyes examining her with the laser-sharp focus of a high-powered microscope, something about him put her immediately at ease. “I subscribe to your YouTube channel and have read everything you’ve ever written.”
His smile revealed a set of perfect white teeth. “You need a life.”
She liked him. Which was ridiculous, because she’d just met him. And on top of that, attraction was a dangerous thing for a woman with career aspirations. “They don’t let me out of the lab that often.”
“I can see why.” His intensity sent a surge of warmth spreading through Rachel’s core. “Your charm could be fatal if released on the world.”
Their conversation had definitely taken a turn toward the geeky, but it held a sexy quality she found irresistible.
She knew better than to trust a stranger, even one she’d stalked extensively, but something about him caused her normal defenses to slip. She could recite where he’d gotten his degrees, how he liked his tea when he was camping at a remote site, plus the names of every virus he’d hunted down.
“Does that line work with most women?” she asked.
“First time to use it,” he admitted with a chuckle.
“Sounds like I’m not the only one who needs a life.” Before she could ask why he was in DC, Cara pushed between them, a glass of champagne in hand.
“Aiden! I can’t believe you’re here,” she gushed. “I haven’t seen you since residency.”
“Cara!” He gave Rachel’s giddy colleague a quick hug then held her at arm’s length. “You look great.”
“Is that still your best line, Ballinger?” Cara laughed.
Aiden cast Rachel a questioning glance. When she kept their conversation to herself, he smiled. “Guess so.”
Cara shook her head. “Once an absent-minded science nerd, always an absent-minded science nerd.” She emptied her champagne glass then waved for another. She was halfway through her drink when she realized Aiden and Rachel were staring at each other. “I didn’t know the two of you had met.”
“Not officially,” Rachel said. “I’ve followed his career from the sidelines.”
“Let me introduce you to your hero.” Cara took another sip of her drink. “Dr. Rachel Allen, meet Dr. Aiden Ballinger, the—”
“The virus hunter.” Rachel wasn’t embarrassed by the admiration in her voice. This guy had earned it.
Cara draped one arm over Aiden’s shoulder. “Aiden’s the Indiana Jones of our little world of obscure viruses.”
Aiden’s gaze held Rachel captive. “Believe me, tramping around in permafrost while your fingers are turning blue isn’t that romantic.” He smiled at her. “The real heroes are the people who figure out how to keep the viruses I dig up from replicating.”
Rachel’s gut clenched. It was too late. That cage had already been opened. “Why are you in DC, Dr. Ballinger?”
“Aiden,” he corrected. “I needed a second opinion on some findings in the field.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Cara said.
“Hardly.” Aiden stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “Just a bunch of boring lab work.”
Rachel stopped herself from saying she knew exactly what the boring lab work entailed. Maybe that’s why Dr. Ballinger had come to the party. Maybe he knew her boss would be here.
“So you know Dr. Moreno?” Rachel asked Aiden, fishing for more information.
“Yeah, I was hoping to speak to him tonight.”
“Me too, actually,” Rachel said.
“But we haven’t been able to find him.” Cara sipped her drink. “Not that I’ve been looking that hard.”
“You both work at Gaumond Labs?” Aiden asked.
“We do.” Cara set her teetering champagne glass on the nearest table. “Time to liven up this party. Whoever spots Dr. Moreno first, send off a flare.”
Cara wheeled and wobbled off, leaving Rachel and Aiden standing face to face. Rachel ran through her options as she felt his eyes on her.
“Cara hasn’t changed,” he said, taking a step closer. “Look, I’m here to—”
He didn’t have to tell her why he was here because she already knew. “I have your results,” she whispered.
His eyes widened. “And?”
“If we’re going to save the world, we need to find Dr. Moreno ASAP.”
Chapter Three
You look as uncomfortable as an unwanted genome in a virus?
Aiden studied the blonde standing in front of him and felt his brow begin to perspire. Seriously? Had he actually said that to her? What stunned him the most was that she hadn’t run. But trying to impress the beautiful woman who’d already managed to captivate him wasn’t why he was here. And definitely wasn’t the biggest problem he was facing at the moment. He hadn’t missed the concern in her voice. She was the brilliant virus expert Dr. Moreno had promised to have double check the test results. The sooner he had reliable data, the sooner his team could initiate the response needed to shut down the growing death rate in Tibet.
He cupped her elbow as he led her to the edge of the crowded room. “I need to know what you found in that lab.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I have specific orders not to talk to anyone.”
“Those were my instructions.” He pulled his hand away from her and lowered his voice. “Those vials your lab received were from me.”
“I’m aware of that, but still—”
“If you know anything about viruses—which I’m assuming you do—then I don’t have to tell you about the dangers that come with the reemergence of a high-consequence pathogen for which there are no vaccines or cures. In the wrong hands, a reactivated virus could spread across the globe like a wildfire and kill millions.”
“Wait a minute. . .” She held up her hand, refusing to buy into his paranoia. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? All we have is a viable virus with evidence it can spread to humans.”
“Isn’t that enough?” he asked.
“I’m going to need to see more evidence before I jump to the conclusion that this virus you discovered is going to turn into a. . .a pandemic.”
Aiden frowned. Yes, he’d heard that before, but still, this was not the scenario he’d envisioned. “Did your results confirm that the virus is related to the outbreak?”
“From the notes I read, yes.”
“How long did it take for the virus to replicate in vertebrates?”
She hesitated. “Four hours, but—”
“Four hours. It should have taken twice that long. Actually, it never should have happened at all, because that virus shouldn’t have been viable, but it was. It is. And now you just confirmed that I’m not crazy.”
“I never said you were crazy, but the probability of. . .” She glanced around. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you. I—”
“You can see how serious this is.”
Her frown deepened. “Do you always interrupt people, or just when you’re not getting your way?”
“I’m sorry.” He bit back his frustration that wasn’t targeted on her, but the entire situation. “All I know is that my resources in the field were limited. I was able to run the tests more than once, but my team needs clarification if we’re going to have a decent shot at setting up the proper protocols. That’s why I came to Dr. Moreno.”
“I agree that the initial results are surprising, but we have to do more testing. What we have so far doesn’t seem much worse than a bad case of the flu.”
“We are now looking at over fifty suspected cases, and five deaths.”
“Which is my point exactly.” Rachel leaned toward him while the party buzzed around them. “Suspected. . .possible. . .up to. . .none of these words are scientific. You, of all people, know that.”
“My team can determine the reproduction number once we can compare all the data. The death rate for the flu is typically less than one percent. What we’re seeing
in the Tibetan village is significantly higher.”
“Knowing the average number of people who catch the virus from a single infected person is important, but I still think you’re jumping way ahead of yourself. We don’t have enough data.”
“My job is to study high-consequence pathogens, and I’m telling you I’ve never seen anything this reactive.” He glanced behind her to the party where music was playing and waiters were handing out food and drinks. “My boss told me to meet him and Moreno here.”
Aiden studied the crowd again. A room full of lab geeks, directors from the board, and backers all mingling and laughing over who knows what. But like Rachel, he hadn’t seen Dr. Moreno or Nick Shepherd. But he did spot Cara making her way back toward them. Something told him they needed to ensure she didn’t get looped into the discussion.
“I don’t see my boss.” He grabbed Rachel’s elbow again and steered her toward the door. “If your boss isn’t here, where would he be?”
“Let me try him again.” Rachel called Moreno’s number, then frowned. “I’ve called him half a dozen times and he’s still not picking up.”
“What about his wife?”
“She should be here.”
He searched the crowd again, glad to see that Cara had been snagged into another conversation.
“There she is,” Rachel said.
They headed across the large room toward the front door where Teresa Moreno was chatting with a petite redhead.
“Teresa. . .you look stunning,” Aiden said as soon as the redhead vanished into the crowd.
“Good to see you, Aiden.” Teresa cocked her head slightly. “I didn’t know the two of you knew each other.”
“We don’t,” Rachel said. “Not really. I’ve just followed his career.”
