Unlike her.
She stared at the wall ahead of her. Someone had stuck a sign up: “NORMAL PEOPLE DON’T PHONE THE DPA.”
Never a truer word was said. The phone next to her started ringing. She bent forward and automatically picked it up. It would be a long day.
Four hours later she’d spoken to three health officials, crazy bat lady—who phoned every day—two over-anxious school teachers, five members of the public, and two teenagers who’d obviously been dared by their friends to ring up. Right now all she could think about was a large cappuccino and a banana and toffee muffin.
Her stomach grumbled loudly as she lifted the phone when it rang again. “DPA, Callie Turner, can I help you?”
“This is Matt Sawyer at Chicago General. I’ve got two kids with suspected smallpox.”
She sat up instantly as her brain scrambled to make sense of the words. All thoughts of the muffin vanishing instantly. This had to be a joke. But the voice didn’t sound like that of a teenager, it sounded like an adult.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” He sounded angry. Patience obviously wasn’t his strong point.
She took a deep breath. “Smallpox has been eradicated. It’s no longer a naturally occurring disease, Mr. Sawyer.”
“Listen, honey, you can call me Doctor. Dr. Matt Sawyer. Ringing any bells yet?”
She frowned. Matt Sawyer? The name seemed familiar. Who was he? And why was he speaking to her like that? She put her hand over the receiver and hissed at Maisey. “Hey, who’s Matt Sawyer?”
Maisey’s eyes widened instantly, the disbelief on her face obvious. She skidded her wheeled chair across the room next to Callie. “You’re joking, right?”
Callie shook her head and pointed to the phone.
Maisey bent forward and pulled the phone away from her ear, replacing it with her mouth. “Outbreak, dead pregnant wife, disappeared off the map.”
The pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place and become vaguely familiar. Of course. She had heard of this guy. In fact, everyone in the DPA had heard of this guy. He was like a dark, looming legend. But it had been way before her time.
Her training and natural instincts kicked in. There was a protocol for this. She pushed her chair under the desk and pulled up a screen on her computer. “Hi, Dr. Sawyer. Let’s go through this.”
The algorithm had appeared in front of her, telling her exactly what questions to ask, why and when. She started to take some notes.
“You said you’re at Chicago General. Whereabouts in the hospital are you?”
She could almost hear him sigh. “The ER.”
“What are the symptoms?”
“Two kids, returned from Somalia a few days ago. Ages six and seven. Very sick. Febrile, uniform red spots mainly on their faces, forearms, palms and soles. A few on their trunks. Low blood pressure, tachycardic, swollen glands.”
She was typing furiously. Somalia. The last known place to have a natural outbreak of smallpox. It did seem coincidental.
But there were a whole host of other diseases this could be. She started to speak. “Dr. Sawyer, have you considered chicken pox, herpes, scabies, impetigo—”
“Stop it.”
“What?”
“I know you’re reading from the list. I’ve considered all those things. It’s none of them. Check your emails.” He sounded exasperated with her.
“What do you mean?”
“Lady, do I have to tell you everything twice? Check your emails. I just sent you some photos. Have you ever seen spots like that?”
She clicked out of the algorithm and into her emails. Sure enough, there it was. Everyone in the DPA had a generic email address starting with their full name. He was obviously familiar enough with the system to know that. There was no message. She opened the attached photos.
Wow.
The phone was still at her ear and she moved her face closer to the screen to examine the red spots. No. She hadn’t seen anything like that before—except in a textbook.
“Show the photo to Callum Ferguson,” the low voice growled in her ear.
Callum Ferguson. The only person in their team who’d actually been through the last smallpox outbreak. The only person who’d seen the spots for real. Only someone who’d worked here would know something like that. This phone call was definitely no hoax.
“Give me two minutes.” She crossed the room in big strides, throwing open the door to the briefing room where the ebola team was assembling.
“Callum, I need you to take a look at something urgently.”
“Kind of busy in here, Callie.” The large Scotsman looked up from the floor, where he was packing things into a backpack. Callum was well past retirement age but nothing seemed to slow him down, and his age and experience made him invaluable on the outbreak team.
She lowered her voice, trying to avoid the glare coming across the room from Donovan.
“It’s Matt Sawyer on the phone. He needs you to look at something.”
Callum looked as though he’d just seen a ghost. His hands froze above his pack. He started to stutter, “Wh-what?”
She nodded and he stood up wordlessly and followed her out of the room.
In the few seconds she had been away from her seat, everything had changed. Her boss, Evan Hunter, was standing in front of her computer, staring at her screen, his two deputies and Maisey at his side. The phone receiver was still lying on the desk.
No one spoke. They just moved out of Callum’s way as he reached the screen. His heavy frame dropped into Callie’s chair and he glided under her desk.
“Well?”
Evan Hunter wasn’t renowned for wasting time. The scowl on his face was fierce and made Callie raise her eyebrows. Hadn’t someone told her there had been no love lost between him and Matt Sawyer in the past?
Callum, normally red faced, looked pale. He turned to Evan Hunter and nodded. “I’m sure. I never thought I’d see this again,” he whispered.
Everything around them erupted.
Evan pressed his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “You’re off the ebola team. This is yours—it couldn’t possibly be anyone else’s, seeing as Matt Sawyer is involved. You’re the only one who’s ever managed to assert any control over that loose cannon. I want you all over him. Pick your team.” He looked at his watch. “It’ll take ninety minutes to fly to Chicago. I want you packed and ready to go inside four hours.”
He turned and swept out the room, his deputies scurrying after him. Callie was shaken. Had this really just happened?
Callum’s voice continued in low tones on the phone. He wasn’t even looking at the algorithm she’d pulled up on the screen. His eyes were still fixed on the photo.
“You’re sure there’s no possibility that this could be intentional—a biological terrorist attack?” He was scribbling notes as he listened. There were a few more mumbled questions before he replaced the receiver.
“Was it him? Was it definitely Sawyer?” Maisey looked fit to burst.
Callum nodded. “It was him.” He stood up slowly, obviously still in thought. “I guess that means he’s all right, then.” He touched Callie’s arm. “Get ready, Dr. Turner. This could be the experience of a lifetime.”
“I’m on the team?” She could barely contain her excitement. It was only made slightly better by the look of disgust on Donovan’s face over the other side of the room.
Callum smiled at her. “You know the rules, Callie. You took the call—of course you’re on the team.”
“I’ll be ready in half an hour. Let me get the updated plans.” She rushed off, her heart thumping in her chest.
First official day on the job and she was on the outbreak team investigating an apparently eradicated disease. Isabel would have loved this.
&nb
sp; * * *
Callie shoved her bag in the overhead locker and sat down next to Callum. Everything was happening so fast. She hadn’t even had time to think.
The doors of the plane were already closed and they were starting to taxi down the runway. The cabin crew was already in their seats—the safety announcement forgotten. The normal rules of aviation didn’t seem to apply today.
This was the biggest team she’d ever been part of. There had to be around thirty people on this plane. Other doctors, epidemiologists, case interviewers, contact tracers, admin personnel and, most worrying, security.
Callum had the biggest pile of paperwork she’d ever seen. He was checking things off the list. “Vaccines—check. Protocols—check. N95 filtered masks—check. Symptom list—check. Algorithm—check. Three-hundred-page outbreak plan...” his thumb flicked the edges of the thick document “...check.”
He leaned back in his seat. “And that’s just the beginning.” A few minutes later they felt the plane lift off. Ninety minutes until they reached their destination.
“What have you done about containment plans?”
He nodded at her question. “I’ve identified a suitable building for a Type-C containment. Arrangements are currently being made to prepare it. In the meantime we’ve instructed Chicago General to switch their air-conditioning off. We don’t want to risk the spread of the droplets. They don’t even have suitable masks right now—only the paper ones, which are practically useless.”
He shook his head. “Those spots were starting to erupt. These kids are at the most infectious stage of this disease.”
Callie shuddered. A potentially deadly disease in an E.R. department. Her mind boggled.
It didn’t matter that she was a completely rational person. It didn’t matter that she specialized in infectious diseases. There was still that tiny human part in her that wanted to panic.
That wanted to run in the other direction.
The strange thing was that there were colleagues at the DPA who would kill to be in her shoes right now. Her very tight, uncomfortable shoes. Why hadn’t she changed them before they’d left? Who knew how long she would be on her feet?
She hesitated. “Who are you relaying the instructions to right now?”
His eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. He didn’t look so good. “The chief of staff at Chicago General is Max Simpson. He’s following our instructions to the letter. Or rather Matt Sawyer is following our instructions to the letter. He’s the only one with any experience down there.”
There were small beads of sweat on his brow. He reached into his top pocket and pulled out some antacids.
“You okay?”
He nodded as he opened the packet and popped three in his mouth.
Callum was the calmest, most knowledgeable doctor she’d ever worked with. She’d worked side by side with him through lots of outbreaks. She couldn’t ask for a better mentor. But even he looked a little scared. Maybe it wasn’t just her after all?
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
She lowered her voice. “He was your protégé, wasn’t he?”
“My what?”
“Matt Sawyer. I heard he was your protégé.”
Callum grimaced and shook his head. “Do me a favor. Don’t let Sawyer hear you call him that. That would tip him over the edge that I presume he’s currently dangling on.”
“What do you mean?” During all the frantic preparations Callie hadn’t had any time to find out more about Matt Sawyer. Only a few whispers and hurried conversations here and there.
This was her first real mission. She’d been out as a danger detective before—when she’d been completing her specialist residency training. But this was her first real chance to prove herself. To prove that she was a worthy member of the team. To prove to them—and herself—that she deserved to be there.
It didn’t sound promising if the doctor who’d made the initial call was unstable.
She looked at the pile of papers on Callum’s lap. The outbreak plans, the containment plans, the paperwork to use for contact tracing, the algorithms. A plan for everything. A piece of paper for every eventuality. Just the way she liked it. Just the way she’d learned to function best.
Rules and regulations were her backbone. The thing that kept her focused. The thing that kept everyone safe.
Callum followed her gaze. “This could get messy.”
“What do you mean? With the disease? The casualties?” She hadn’t even stopped to think about that yet. She still had her public health head on, the one that looked at the big picture. She hadn’t even started to consider the individuals.
Callum looked kind of sad. “No.” He gave a little grimace again. “With Sawyer.”
“Sawyer? Aren’t you happy to see him again?” She was confused. Hadn’t they been friends?
“Under any other set of circumstances I would be. But not here. Not like this. This will be his worst nightmare. Sawyer walked away from all this. The last thing he wants to do is be involved in another outbreak. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling.”
“He’s a doctor. He has responsibilities. He has a job to do.” She made it all sound so straightforward. Because in her head that was the way it should be.
He sighed. “Things change, Callie. Life gets in the way. Sawyer doesn’t live by anybody’s rules but his own. He didn’t even follow protocol today. He should have notified the state department first but he didn’t. He just called the DPA. He called you.” He emphasized the word as he placed a hand on his chest.
She’d missed that. Miss Rules and Regulations had missed that. In her shock at the nature of the call it hadn’t even occurred to her that Sawyer should have contacted the state department first and they should have contacted the DPA.
How could she have missed that?
She didn’t need anyone to remind her that things could change—that life, or lack of it—could get in the way. She was living proof of that.
Seeds of doubt started to creep into her mind. She’d missed the first rule of notification. And if she’d missed that, what else would she miss? Should she even be on this team?
Rules were there for a reason. Rules were there to be followed. Rules were there for everyone’s safety.
Then it really hit her. What was happening before her very eyes.
The last thing she needed to do right now was look at the wider picture. She needed to concentrate on the picture right before her.
Callum was turning gray, with the slightest blue tinge around his lips. His skin was waxy and he was still sweating. His hand remained firmly on his chest.
“Callum? Are you okay?” She unfastened her seat belt and stood up, signaling to some of the other members of the team. “That’s not heartburn, is it?”
He shook his head as she started barking out orders to the rest of the team. “Get me some oxygen. Find out how soon till we get there. Can we get an earlier landing slot? Speak to the pilot—it’s a medical emergency.”
They literally had every piece of equipment known to man on this plane. Unfortunately, most of it was in the hold. And none of it was to treat a myocardial infarction.
She cracked open their first-aid kit, monitoring his blood pressure and giving him some aspirin. She pasted a smile on her face. “Things will be fine, Callum. We’ll get you picked up at the airport and taken to the nearest cardiac unit.”
His hand gripped her wrist. “I’m sorry, Callie. I shouldn’t be leaving you to deal with this. Not with Sawyer. You two are like oil and water. You won’t mix. Not at all.” His head was shaking.
Callie’s stomach was churning. The thought of facing the legendary Sawyer herself was not filling her with confidence. But right now she would do or say anything that would relieve the pressure on Callum. Anything at all.
/> “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. Don’t worry about a thing, Callum. I can handle Sawyer.”
Famous last words.
CHAPTER TWO
“WHO ARE YOU and where is Callum Ferguson?” Not waiting for an answer, the man with the shaggy hair pushed past her and looked behind her. With his broad frame and pale green eyes, on another occasion she might have looked twice. But she didn’t have time for this.
Great. The welcoming party. And he was obviously delighted to see her.
She struggled to set the box down on the reception desk. There was only one person this could be. And she intended to start the way she meant to continue. This was business.
“Here are the N95 masks. Make sure anyone that goes into the room with those kids wears one. And make sure it’s fitted properly, otherwise it will be useless.”
He hadn’t moved. He was still standing directly in her path. “I asked you a question.”
She almost hesitated but that would do her no good. She needed to establish who was in charge here. And it was her.
“Matt Sawyer? I’m Callie Turner and I’m leading the team.” She turned towards the door as the rest of the team fanned in behind her, carrying their equipment.
It was like an invasion. And the irony of that wasn’t lost on her.
She tilted her head. “I’d shake your hand but you’re already an infection control hazard, so forgive me.”
Did she look confident? She certainly hoped so, because her stomach was churning so much that any minute now she might just throw up all over his Converses.
She walked around behind the desk and started pulling things out of the boxes being deposited next to her. “Lewis, Cheryl, set up here and here.” She pointed to some nearby desks.
“I’m only going to ask you one more time. Where is Callum Ferguson?”
He was practically growling at her now. And that hair of his was going to annoy her. Why didn’t he get a decent haircut? Wouldn’t long hair be an infection control hazard? Maybe she should suggest he find an elastic band and tie it back, though on second thoughts it wasn’t quite long enough for that.
THE MAVERICK DOCTOR AND MISS PRIM/ABOUT THAT NIGHT... Page 2
