Viable Threat

by Julie Rowe

  “Sorry?” he asked, his frown that of a man who’d completely lost the thread of a conversation. “For what?”

  “Haven’t you been listening to me?”

  “Sort of,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m still stuck on the sex you mentioned.”

  Yep, she’d destroyed all hope of working with River as two equal professionals. God damn it.

  She’d lost her mind as well as her judgment. She’d really thought River was a good guy. A dependable guy. A safe guy. “I’ll tell Dr. Rodrigues to assign someone else to ride herd on me.”

  “What?” He pulled her to a stop and leaned down into her personal space bubble. “Like hell you will. I’ve got your back.”

  “But, you just admitted to being distracted by sex.”

  “I can compartmentalize.”

  He was too close, too intense. She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t respect me anymore.”

  He followed. “How the fuck did you arrive at that conclusion? I respect you more than anyone else here.” He gestured toward his own chest with one thumb. “I’ve seen you in action.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I was surprised. A man doesn’t hear every day a woman he thinks is hotter than hell say she thinks the same about him. Maybe not more than once in a lifetime.”

  “Oh.” But did he respect her? “So, you’ll follow my orders?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You won’t try to…” How to ask if he could put the attraction stuff aside? She wasn’t ready for this. Might not ever be ready to have any kind of relationship with another soldier. A man who would always put someone else’s safety above his own.

  The lust faded completely from his face, replaced by a lopsided smile. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

  The sincerity in his voice soothed frayed nerves. She studied him. There was an openness to his face and posture that told her he was telling the truth.

  “Okay.” She let out a breath. “Okay. Right now, I need you to be a soldier. We’re fighting a war most people can’t even imagine, let alone see. We don’t even know who our enemy is.”

  He stepped back, nodded decisively, and said in a firm voice, “Yes, ma’am.”

  She could do this. “Get your fancy rifle. I’m going to call Ben White.”

  River saluted, then trotted off while she made the call.

  “Looks like our escort is here,” River said as he returned with his rifle a few minutes later. “You’ve got this, Mouse. Remember, you’re giving orders, not suggestions. They’re here to help you, not the other way around.”

  “Okay.” She strode toward the gathering group of men, River keeping pace with her on her right.

  A dozen men were gathered outside vehicles ranging from the black SUVs Homeland’s agents seemed to drive to marked police cars. One face in particular stood out from the rest.

  Agent Geer watched Ava and River approach with a contemptuous twist to his mouth. “Don’t tell me you two are running this operation.”

  Chapter Nine

  9:07 p.m.

  “It sure as hell isn’t you,” River snarled at the asshole. The last thing Ava needed was this kind of pushback.

  “Agent Geer,” she said, her tone colder than the North Pole in midwinter, “I see you still haven’t learned how to get along with people.”

  Nice shot, Mouse. River had to work to keep from laughing at Geer’s scowl.

  She looked the other men in the group. “Who else is here from Homeland Security?”

  Geer’s face didn’t change as he gestured at three men dressed in similar dark suits to his own to his left as he introduced them.

  “Gentlemen,” Ava said. She looked at the eight uniformed policemen. “Officers, my name is Dr. Ava Lloyd. I’m with the CDC. It’s my job to track down the source of the infection and ensure that it’s eradicated or under the control of the CDC.”

  Geer shifted on his feet and said something under his breath.

  “You have something to add, Agent Geer?”

  “Under the control of the CDC?” he asked. “Homeland Security will have some say in that.”

  River had to force himself to keep from reacting. Couldn’t he punch the guy just a couple of times? That wasn’t asking for much, was it?

  “Homeland Security is not equipped or authorized to contain, investigate, or store biological samples,” Ava told him. “Homeland Security may receive reports, analyses, and recommendations from the CDC regarding the pathogen responsible for this outbreak, but a say?” She shook her head. “No.”

  Geer opened his mouth, probably to argue, but Ava spoke first.

  “Agent Geer, a moment of your time, please.” She gestured a little ways from the group and waited until he started walking before following him.

  He didn’t go very far. Well within earshot of the group.

  Jackass.

  “Do you know our orders? What we’re supposed to do?” Ava asked him.

  “We’re going to Roger Squires’s dorm to search for evidence in the terrorist bombings today. There may be evidence of this pathogen you’re looking for there as well.”

  “Is that…all the information you were given?”

  “There’s been little time for an in-depth debrief,” he said with a sneer. “But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

  That was it. Enough.

  River stepped forward, got in the other man’s face. “Speak to her again with anything less than respect, and you and I are going to have words.”

  Geer flashed his teeth, not backing down an inch. “Threatening a Homeland Security agent is extremely stupid.”

  “Hindering an investigation during a state of emergency with assholery behavior is a whole lot more stupid.” River pointed at Ava. “She is in charge, not you. She knows what to do so we don’t get infected and die, not you. Shut the fuck up and do your job, or get the fuck out of the way.”

  “Sergeant River,” Ava said, her tone a warning.

  He waited a second, then took a step back.

  “River is correct, Agent Geer. More than half of the infected have come from that dorm or the area immediately around it. There’s no question that we’ll find the pathogen there.” She had Geer’s attention now. “Either drop the macho bullshit, or leave.”

  Geer’s face became a mask of rage.

  “Think,” Ava said, before Geer could speak. “I’m a subject specialist, not law enforcement. My job isn’t to arrest the persons responsible. It’s to find them and stop them from releasing more of the pathogen. Arresting them is your job.”

  Geer’s face slowly dissolved into a frown as he stared at her. Then he looked at River, the question he wasn’t asking clear.

  “I’m with her. Security, risk assessment, weapon, whatever she needs. Also, not arresting people.”

  Geer studied both of them for a few more seconds, then relaxed his body posture. “Microbiologist, correct?” he asked Ava.

  “Yes, we’re dealing with bacteria, not a virus.”

  “Anthrax?”

  “No. Nothing with spores.”

  “Is there a reason you’re not saying what the pathogen is?”

  “Dr. Rodrigues wants to be certain of the identification.” She paused, then took a couple steps back to include the rest of the Homeland agents and police officers in the conversation. “We’re treating this bug as if it is highly contagious. Respirators, gloves, and safety glasses must be worn by everyone.”

  She had all their attention now.

  “When we get to the building, Sergeant River, myself, and two of you will go inside to uh…” She glanced at River. She needed the right police vocabulary to explain.

  “Clear the building,” he supplied.

  “Thank you,” she said to him. “A CDC decontamination team will meet us there. Any questions?”

  “So,” one of the uniformed cops said. “The respirator is enough protection from the infection?”

/>   “Yes.” She looked into the faces of the men, searching for more questions. All River saw was a determination to get the job done.

  “Let’s get everyone outfitted.” She turned and led the entire group back to Sarah and Bill’s area.

  River sidled close as Geer approached Ava and said, “Officer Palmer and I are volunteering to go in with you.”

  “Palmer?” she asked.

  A uniformed cop came forward. He started to extend his hand, thought better of it, and pulled it up into a salute instead. “Ma’am.”

  “Where have I seen you before?” she asked him.

  River took another look at the guy. “You were one of the officers on crowd control outside the coffee shop, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Palmer replied. “Saw you two in action and volunteered to help.” He bounced on his feet like an enthusiastic puppy.

  “Officer Palmer,” Ava began. “We’re investigating the disease, not the terrorists, or whoever is detonating bombs. If you’re looking for action, helping the bomb squad or the SWAT team might be better choices.”

  “Thank you, ma’am, but I know how dangerous an outbreak can be. My grandmother died last year of pneumonia along with five other people in her retirement home.” He squared his shoulders. “This is my town. I’m not going to let some criminal mastermind go on a killing spree, no matter what weapon he uses.”

  Ava glanced at River.

  He gave her a short nod.

  “Okay, you’re on the entry team.” She turned to call out to Bill. “Can you get these two ready right away?”

  “Sure.” He waved at Geer and Palmer. “This way.”

  Sarah handed out respirators, safety glasses, and gloves to the rest of the contingent.

  “Are you sure these are going to be good enough to keep us from getting sick?” one cop asked, holding up his respirator.

  “As long as you’re not swimming in it, they’re perfectly adequate protection against most bacteria.” She walked over to the officer and took his mask from him. “You do need to make sure it fits snugly to your face.” She put it on him, then checked the fit. She wasn’t satisfied and carefully bent the edges of the respirator to conform to the guy’s nose. “Also be sure to pull on the plastic ties so it’s nice and tight.” Again, she demonstrated, using the officer as her mannequin.

  As soon as everyone was ready, they got into vehicles and left. The four of them got into a CDC van, while the Homeland agents took their SUV and the cops buddied up in twos in police cars.

  Ava grabbed a backpack-style first-aid kit in the van, checked its contents, then did the same for her fancy tackle box.

  The men watched her with curious eyes.

  “I’m not sure what we’re going to find,” she told them when she was finished, maybe two or three minutes from their destination. “There may be casualties.”

  “You mean, dead bodies?” Palmer asked from the driver’s seat.

  “Yes. A lot of people become confused, even hallucinate, due to a high fever, so they may not be entirely rational.”

  “So,” Geer drawled. “Dead and crazy people.”

  Ava shrugged. “The situation requires extra vigilance and possibly a strong stomach.”

  “You deal with many situations like this?” Geer asked in a tone that wasn’t quite disbelief.

  The son of a bitch needed another attitude adjustment. Soon.

  “I spent several months in Sierra Leone during the Ebola outbreak. I was also in Syria briefly before the WHO pulled out of the country.”

  Palmer let out a low whistle. “Dangerous work.”

  “I’m a firm believer in plan for the worst, hope for the best. Proper preparation and attention to safety protocols can mitigate a lot of the danger.”

  “We’re here,” River announced as Palmer pulled up outside a large apartment-style building. The rest of their escort joined them on the sidewalk.

  The few students walking in the area came to a stop to stare at their group.

  “The four of us,” Ava said, gesturing at their entry team. “Will go inside to evaluate the situation. The rest of you, stay here to wait for the CDC decontamination team to arrive. Don’t allow anyone to enter the building.” She stopped to bite her bottom lip. “Split up and cover all the exits. Make sure anyone who comes out is detained until we can clear them medically. They don’t get a choice.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” A couple of the cops said without hesitation.

  “Officer Palmer and Agent Geer will keep in contact with you using your radios, so keep the channel clear.”

  There were nods all around.

  She turned, putting her back to River to made eye contact with Geer and Palmer. “Let’s go.”

  She trusted him at her back. A statement of trust that settled old hurts he hadn’t realized were still bruised, but behind her wasn’t where he should be. He needed to be in front going into that building. Assessing the danger was his job.

  He slipped past her a few feet from the door. “Palmer,” he ordered. “Take the rear. Geer, watch for passive threats. I’m on the live ones.”

  “Passive?” Geer asked.

  “Explosives, shit that’s out of place.”

  Geer grunted, but it didn’t sound like an argument, so River went ahead and opened the door.

  No one was visible.

  “Squires’s dorm room is 307,” Ava said.

  “Good enough.” River brought his rifle butt into the hollow of his shoulder. He cradled it in his hands, ready to pull the trigger, but kept it pointed at the floor.

  For now.

  He led the way to the second floor without running into anyone and carried on to the third.

  “This place is too quiet,” Palmer said from his position at the rear of their party.

  River didn’t much like it, either.

  They arrived at the correct door. River stepped to one side so Ava could knock.

  No answer.

  She knocked again, louder.

  The bark of a cough reached them through the door of the apartment, followed by the rattle of the lock.

  The door opened, and a young man stared at them, his eyes bloodshot. “Yeah?” He blinked, then slowly turned his head to look at all of them. “Cool outfits.”

  “El Paso police,” Palmer said.

  “If you’re looking for the source of the weed smell, it’s not us, Officer,” the kid said, with a slightly fuzzy smile.

  “Roger Squires live here?” River asked.

  “Yeah.” The kid finally seemed to see River’s M24, and his eyes got wide. “Whoa, dude.”

  “We need to see his room,” Ava said, stepping forward.

  The kid didn’t move. “You need a warrant for that.”

  River shifted to draw the kid’s attention to him. “Roger is dead, kid. We don’t need a warrant.”

  The kid sucked in a breath and asked, “How did he die?”

  “It’s better if you don’t know.” If the roomie didn’t get out of the way, River was going to make him move.

  “How are you feeling?” Ava asked.

  “Not so good,” the kid said. He started coughing, a bubbling wet sound that left bloodstains on his lips and the shirtsleeve he used to wipe his mouth.

  “I’m a doctor,” Ava said. She turned to Geer. “Contact our people outside, and let them know we’ve got at least one person with symptoms here who needs to be taken to hospital. If the CDC team has arrived, send two of them in.”

  Geer nodded without hesitation and immediately got out his hand-held radio and began talking.

  River took a step forward, and the kid fell back, turning to lead them inside the apartment. He sat down on a battered sofa, and Ava pulled out a stethoscope from her pack. She placed the speaker end on the kid’s chest, the earpieces dangling uselessly. It was a digital device, the heart rate displayed on a tiny screen.

  She pulled out a digital thermometer as well and took the boy’s temperature.

  “105,” she re
ported calmly. “Do you have a headache?”

  “How’d you know?” he asked, frowning a little. “My neck hurts, too.”

  The somber expression on her face told River this kid had it.

  “Which room is Roger’s?” she asked.

  He pointed. “He’s not there, but his roommate, Daniel, is.”

  There were two closed doors down a short hallway, one on the right, one on the left.

  “A bedroom, and what else?” River asked.

  “Their bathroom,” the kid said. “But it’s not working. Roger said the shitter was backed up or something, and it smells like something died in there. It’s the door on the left.”

  River walked down the short hall, but stopped before he opened the bedroom door to examine it for anything that shouldn’t be there. The doorframe and knob looked untampered with.

  He opened the door with one hand, keeping his rifle steady with the other. Ava peeked over his shoulder.

  Someone lay sprawled across one of the beds. River walked forward, rifle ready, but the kid’s sightless eyes told him he wouldn’t need it.

  He glanced at Ava and shook his head.

  Fuck.

  “At least one casualty,” Ava reported to the entire apartment, her voice inflectionless.

  Chapter Ten

  10:10 p.m.

  Ava guessed that the boy on the bed had been dead for several hours at least, his extremities cool to the touch.

  The second bed in the room was empty and unmade. Roger’s? Other than the body, nothing seemed out of place. The contents of the room were exactly what you’d expect in a student’s dorm room. Two twin beds, two desks with a chair each, and two chests of drawers. A few dirty items of clothing were strewn on the floor with no more or less than the normal indifference two young men might display.

  It only made the death of the room’s occupant seem that much sadder.

  Outside the bedroom, the apartment’s live occupant was having a meltdown.

  “Dead?” he demanded of someone, his voice cracking. “What do you mean, he’s dead?”

  “Sir.” Palmer’s voice was an order. “Sit down. A medical team is on its way. You need to remain calm until they get here.”