She needed to feel his lips on hers as much as he needed to feel hers. Maybe it was because they were surrounded by death, and the threat of dying was so very real that they needed that primal sense of life to remind them what they were fighting for. Or maybe they were just scared and touching reminded them that they were still alive.
They hadn’t seen each other since earlier that morning when she and Rebecca had gone to the lab to process the blood samples, and it felt like an eternity.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a sense of urgency in his touch.
She nodded, so happy to see him again. “I’m fine.”
His expression was tense as he admitted, “I hated watching you walk into that hot zone. It was like watching you walk into the mouth of hell and not being able to do anything about it. I’m not trying to be dramatic but that’s exactly what it felt like.”
Caitlin shared, “I lost it when we came out of the contaminated zone. Zak, you have no idea the horror of this virus. It’s one thing to see it in photos but another reality entirely to see it in action. As we expected, the virus has mutated. We’re still isolating the genome. It’s a slow process and the victims don’t have much time. This is the dangerous thing about this virus. It replicates so fast and it kills so swiftly that it doesn’t give us much of a window. How about you? Have you found any leads?”
“We’re following up on Patient Zero, Londa Jackson. Scarlett seems to think everything starts and ends with her. She was a recluse but somehow she was infected and she spread it to seven more people.”
Caitlin nodded. “This virus is similar to Ebola in that it can be airborne, so it is very easy to spread.”
A storm passed across his features and she sensed the tension gathering. Not that she blamed him—the situation wasn’t ideal. “I don’t like you being that close to the infected patients.”
She stiffened in confusion. “You know that can’t be helped,” she said. “I have to collect the samples.”
“Send someone else.”
“You’re being irrational. It’s my project,” she returned, frowning. “I can’t do that. What’s wrong?”
Zak shoved his hand through his hair, agitated. “This shit is getting real and I don’t like you being right in the thick of it. Watching you walk through those doors... I can’t explain how it feels. I hate it. Scares me. I’m not used to worrying about someone else like that. I want to wrap you in Bubble Wrap and I can’t do that. The idea that I can’t protect you is messing with me in ways that I can’t explain.”
Under different circumstances, his admission might’ve been sweet. She might’ve been able to overlook the vague sexist overtones but she was exhausted, her nerves were strung taut and her patience was thin. “There are bigger issues at stake than your feelings,” she reminded him, struggling to hold on to those wildly happy feelings of earlier. However, she tried to remember that they were both operating on low reserves and adjusted her tone. “I don’t want to fight, Zak.”
“I can’t let anything happen to you, Caitlin,” he said, his voice dipping low. “I don’t know when it happened but I have feelings for you, all right? I just can’t deal with the idea of you getting hurt and do what I need to do to protect everyone else.”
Caitlin’s breath caught in her chest. Why did the most wonderful thing in the world have to hurt at the same time? And why was he doing this now? “You’re being very selfish,” she said, a scowl building beneath the hurt frown. “I can’t believe you would spend the only free moments we have together to pick a fight over my career choice. For crying out loud, don’t you think I get enough of that from my parents? I don’t need it from you, too.”
“I’m not picking a fight, I’m stating facts. You said you wanted me to be straight with you. Well, here it is—I’m scared and I don’t like it.”
“This is my job.”
“Well, then, I don’t like your job.”
She gasped, blinking against his shocking statement before shooting back. “Maybe I don’t like your job, either.”
Zak muttered an expletive under his breath and stepped away, rubbing his jaw as if trying to stop himself from saying anything else, but frankly, Caitlin was already stung by his admission.
“Caitlin...”
What had she been thinking? That they were going to ride off into the sunset together? That after she solved this crisis they were going to go get married, have kids and go on exotic vacations together? Good grief. Get real.
Oh, the truth was that she’d lied to Zak when she’d said she didn’t believe in fairy tales, because she’d been penning her own little masterpiece since falling for her ten-foot-tall bodyguard.
Somehow she’d glossed over the fact that they were wildly different in temperament, upbringing and background, but their happily-ever-after was going to happen, right?
Caitlin wiped at her eyes, angry at herself for being so embarrassingly stupid.
“Actually, I have to get back to the lab,” she said, needing to get away from Zak before she broke down and sobbed. Ignoring his attempt to stop her, she pushed past him and went through the double doors, leaving him behind.
Only when she was safely back in the lab, within the privacy of the decontamination bathroom, did she allow the tears to fall.
* * *
The CDC had already cleared Londa Jackson’s residence but it was still cordoned off with caution tape. Zak, Scarlett and Xander made their way into the small apartment, careful not to disturb anything as they took mental note of everything.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Zak asked, panning the apartment with a slow 360-degree perusal. Scarlett and Xander nodded as he answered his own question. “No personal effects. No pictures, nothing of sentiment. The CDC said she was a recluse with no family, living on disability, but it doesn’t even look as if she lived here. I’ve seen people staying in a hotel with more personal items.”
Xander cautiously agreed but wanted to look around some more. “I’m going to check out the bedroom. Maybe she was just a fan of Spartan living. Not everyone is into knickknacks.”
Zak went to the kitchen, put on gloves and then opened the fridge. Empty. He went to the cupboards. Also empty. He was starting to get a weird feeling. “Didn’t the CDC say she had a cat living here with her?” he recalled. Scarlett nodded. “Do you see evidence of a cat anywhere?”
Scarlett searched high and low. “No, I don’t. I don’t smell a cat, either.”
Xander exited the bedroom. “Clean as a whistle in here, too.”
Zak frowned, meeting Scarlett’s gaze. “I don’t think she lived here.”
“Something feels wrong,” Scarlett agreed, looking to Xander. “Can you do a search on Londa Jackson? See what pops up on the FBI database?”
“Yeah, give me a few minutes.” He grabbed his phone and made a call. Within minutes the details were sent to his email. He shook his head and said, “Well, the plot thickens. Londa Jackson doesn’t exist. At least the Londa Jackson who died a few days ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“The real Londa Jackson died in 1972, car accident. Whoever was cremated at Lenox Hill was not her.”
“Well, that explains why someone was in a rush to make sure she was cremated.”
“Yeah,” Zak said, adding dryly. “A fake doctor by the name of Dr. William Travesky. No one thought to question the order, seeing as everyone had been so freaked out by the circumstance of Jane Doe’s death. It’d been orchestrated pretty damn well, if you ask me.”
“I hear ya,” Xander agreed. “No one was going to think twice about cremating a body that was leaking hazardous, contagious fluids. Hell, they probably tripped over themselves to get her into the crematorium.”
“So we’re back to who the hell is our Jane Doe and why did the CDC sign off on their investigation here when it clearly was shady as shit?” Zak said.<
br />
“I guess that’s a question for the CDC,” Xander said.
“Damn right it is,” Scarlett growled. “Take pictures of everything here. Mr. Peterson has some explaining to do.”
Once back at the hospital, they found Roger Peterson and corralled him in the conference room.
“Did anyone from the CDC actually go into Londa Jackson’s apartment or did they just cordon it off?” Xander asked.
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “Of course we went into her apartment. We did a standard sweep to determine if there was a threat and then we cordoned off the apartment.”
“But did you see the inside of the apartment? Did you see a cat?”
Peterson did a double take as if they were nuts. “A cat? What the hell are you going on about? Don’t you think we have bigger problems than a goddamn cat?”
“There was no cat,” Scarlett said, making her point. “There was no Londa Jackson. Whoever died in that hospital bed was not the real Londa Jackson and that apartment was just a front. Our Patient Zero is part of this epidemic in more ways than accidental.”
Xander leaned in. “Now the question we need to ask is this—are you a bigger part of this epidemic or are you just as duped as the rest of us? Think long and hard. We’re not afraid of taking down big fish.”
No doubt their reputation had preceded them. Before Xander had made the transition to the FBI, he’d been part of a huge criminal takedown that’d been responsible for outing a corruption ring at the highest government order at Capitol Hill. It’d been a big splash, with lots of coverage on the CNN and MSNBC. Even The Onion had done a parody, but suffice it to say Red Wolf had certainly made a name for itself as having balls as big as, well, you know.
“Hold on, slow down. If you think I had anything to do with this you’re barking up the wrong tree. You’re crazy if you think I’d release something as horrific as this virus on the general population. That’s madness!”
“That’s what I say but people do crazy things for less than compelling reasons,” Zak said, not convinced. “Convince us or we’re slapping you in handcuffs and taking you in for questioning.”
Peterson turned red in the face as his jowls shook. “Look here, okay, maybe we didn’t search the apartment as thoroughly as we should’ve. But we had more patients coming in and we didn’t know what we were dealing with yet. I had them seal off the apartment and we were going to come back to it but we hadn’t had a chance to yet. For God’s sake, you’ve seen what we’re up against. Are you really going to bust my balls because of a damn cat?”
“Did you not hear what I said? It’s not about a cat. There was never a cat. There was never a Londa Jackson. We’ve still got a situation where a fake doctor signed off on a cremation order for Patient Zero, whom we couldn’t identify, and we have you, taking shortcuts when people’s lives are at stake.”
“I swear to you, it wasn’t that I was trying to take a shortcut. We are short-staffed and I made a judgment call. I wasn’t at the apartment myself. I went off the word of an employee.”
“Which employee?”
“I...uh, I don’t know. I’d have to check my notes.”
“Go ahead, we’ll wait.” Scarlett leaned back, tapping the table with her nail. “My guess is that this little show was a test run. They wanted to see how it would work and they just got a report card with flying colors. So when they decide to put the full run into play there’s nothing we’re going to be able to do to stop it. So, please, Mr. Peterson, if you don’t want to go down in history as one of the lazy jackasses who helped facilitate the end of humanity, please stop being part of the problem.”
Peterson fumbled with his reading glasses and grabbed his papers, reading through to find what he was looking for. He scanned the reports until he found a name. “CDC official, R. Burke.” Then, he double-checked the report and repeated the name to himself. “R. Burke, wait a minute—” he searched a few more papers “—I don’t have an R. Burke on my team.” He swore under his breath as his florid face paled. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You and me both,” Zak muttered. To Scarlett, he said, “Didn’t CJ and Laird say that the religious nut old lady in the brownstone was named Burke?”
Scarlett nodded. “Get CJ on the phone. I need an ID. I want to know what that old lady looked like. I think we’ve just found our first real connection and it leads us right back to the Faith of the Chosen.”
Zak punched up CJ and texted him the intel. Within moments, CJ was on the phone with Scarlett, and in another five minutes had sketched a likeness of the woman. “The man probably missed his calling as a world-renowned artist,” Scarlett murmured as the sketch came through.
“Yeah, lucky for us he likes to blow shit up more than he likes to paint pretty pictures for a lot of money,” Zak quipped and Xander smothered a laugh.
Peterson looked horrified by their humor. “This isn’t funny. Someone infiltrated the CDC and passed off as one of my team. I don’t find that funny at all.”
“If we didn’t laugh about half the shit that came our way we’d cry ourselves to sleep most nights,” Zak retorted and that was the damn truth. Just another point in Caitlin’s favor that she got it and didn’t judge him for it. To Xander he said, “Think you can get your FBI buddies to put out a BOLO for Regina Burke?”
“Yeah, I think I can make that happen,” he said.
“Great.” Zak rose and said, “Send CJ and Laird to go pick up that Carl Browne for a few more questions. I need to make sure Caitlin is okay. I don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone with a bunch of fake doctors and shit running around the hospital.”
“Good point,” Scarlett said. To Peterson, she said, “You, don’t go far. We need to make sure Burke was your only leak. You need to do a check of your internals. We can’t take the risk that more than one area was compromised of the CDC.”
Peterson nodded, visibly shaken. Not only was his head on the chopping block for screwing up so royally but his screwup might’ve just cost the world more than they could pay.
Chapter 25
Caitlin yawned and stretched, her back popping in a few spots as she rolled her neck after being bent in one position for too long. Rebecca had long since left to catch a few winks but Caitlin couldn’t sleep knowing the clock was ticking.
Everyone was working around the clock, no exceptions. She tried not to think about Zak. She didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. Compartmentalizing had always been her strength and she was using every bit of talent she had in that department to keep her feelings boxed away.
The only saving grace—they might’ve found the chink in the virus’s armor. She’d just discovered that if a serum was introduced to the infected cells during a certain window, eradicating them before they could infect the healthy cells, it rendered the virus impotent. But the window was incredibly small due to the aggressive nature of the virus itself.
If she could find a way to extend that window, she could effectively introduce the serum that would save lives.
In particular the lives hanging in the balance right now.
A family was hanging on for dear life.
Wes, Ellis and little Georgia. Georgia was only three. Statistically, she had the least chance of making it because her little body couldn’t fight the virus like an adult but she was holding on like a champ. Still, it was just a matter of time.
Until this moment. Now, maybe she had a chance.
She blearily smiled at the empty lab, having to settle for celebrating silently. It was the first breakthrough she’d had since starting this journey and she was half-delirious.
She still needed to run some tests to double-check her findings but her preliminary tests were good and that was worth crowing about—especially when the stakes were so high.
Thirty minutes later, she was fresh out of the decontaminate bath and out of the lab
when a new woman greeted her with a smile. “You must be the incredible Dr. Willows everyone has been talking about,” she gushed, extending her hand.
Given the fact that Caitlin had just exited a level 4 hazmat room, she refrained from shaking her hand with an apology. “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind,” she said. “It’s for both of our protection right now. The least amount of contact, the better.”
“Of course,” the woman agreed with an embarrassed expression. “How silly of me. I should know better. I’m just so verklempt to be in your presence that I’ve forgotten protocol. Forgive me.”
Caitlin wasn’t sure if she should know the woman, but it was very awkward, and her instincts were going off like a four-alarm fire bell in her head, though she couldn’t exactly say why. The woman wasn’t exactly threatening. She looked like a schoolmarm or a librarian. The bun was a particularly nice touch. Maybe she was one of the hospital’s administrators. Either way, Caitlin was too tired to figure out the mystery. She just wanted some sleep.
“I’m flattered, thank you, but I’m just doing my part, like everyone here at the hospital,” Caitlin said. “We all have the same goal.”
“Well, you have a good heart. Your parents must be very proud.”
Strange conversation. “I like to think so.”
“Are they scientists, too?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Hmm, I’m not much of a science person, myself, but thank goodness for people like you in situations like this.”
Caitlin was running out of ways to politely respond to this wacky conversation. “Well, thank you, it was very nice to meet you...um, what did you say your name was?”
“Oh, I didn’t say, dear,” the woman corrected her with a chilling smile. “You have no reason to know me but we have every reason to know you.”
Goose bumps rioted up Caitlin’s arms. “And why is that?”
“Because you’re the only woman smart enough to stand in our way,” the woman answered, dropping her smile as she approached Caitlin. “But we can’t let that happen. We’re doing God’s work.”
Soldier Protector (Military Precision Heroes Book 2) Page 20
