nodded slowly. It was a plum assignment, the type of work she loved. But there was just one problem... “Do we even have jurisdiction? This sounds like more of a thing for the World Health Organization rather than us.”
“The WHO is monitoring the situation,” Harold responded. “But since this is happening on a US base, we get the first crack at it.”
Excitement thrummed in her belly, and Avery started making mental lists of everything she’d need to pack. “When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow,” Harold said. “And I need you to keep this assignment between you and me. Outside of a few key people, no one knows about this.”
“Why the cloak-and-dagger routine?” Avery was used to a certain amount of discretion with respect to her assignments, but this seemed a bit extreme.
Harold sighed, and as his shoulders slumped he suddenly looked ten years older. A warning tingle slid down Avery’s spine, and she held her breath, waiting for his reply.
“We’re thinking this might be some kind of new influenza strain,” he said, sounding almost sad. “And if that’s the case...” He trailed off, and Avery nodded, understanding perfectly.
The majority of Americans thought that flu was merely a seasonal inconvenience, something to be endured rather than feared. Most of them had never even heard of the global pandemic of 1918, when between thirty and fifty million people had died from a particularly nasty strain. Since then, doctors and scientists had lived in fear of another massive outbreak, worse than the last. There had been a few false alarms over the years, but so far, humanity had managed to dodge a bullet. Still, researchers kept a close eye on influenza, and most would agree that it was just a matter of time before another virulent strain emerged to threaten the status quo. If it was happening now, panic and fear would sweep the globe faster than any virus, and the very fabric of humanity would be at risk.
Suddenly, Harold’s caution made perfect sense.
“We are modifying response plans as we speak, working in conjunction with the WHO,” Harold said softly. “We all hope this isn’t flu, but we have to be prepared.”
“Is the government going to cut off the base?” It was a drastic measure, but if there was a chance of this bug getting out into the general population, one option would be for the government to seal off the research base until the disease burned out. If no one went in or out, there would be no chance for the agent to escape.
Harold shook his head. “Not yet. But if this does turn out to be some new, supervirulent flu...”
“I know,” she said softly. “We’d be stuck there.” Worry gnawed at the edges of her mind, dampening her earlier enthusiasm. Did she really want to take on this mess, knowing there was a possibility she’d be stranded for an indefinite amount of time?
Her boss stared at her, sympathy welling in his eyes. “You don’t have to go,” he said. “Given the nature of this one, I can’t force you to go to Antarctica when there’s a chance you might get stuck there.”
“It’s okay,” she said, dismissing the hypothetical outcome. If she focused on the potentially negative aspects of her job, she’d never be able to work again. There was always a chance she might get caught in a quarantine, or worse, get sick herself. Those were just some of the risks inherent in her line of work. She couldn’t give in to the fear and worry now, not when there was so much on the line.
“Besides,” she continued, “it’s not like they’d forget about us. They’d do supply drops to keep us fed.”
Harold acknowledged the point with a nod. “That’s true.”
“And if they do shut things down, can you imagine the hazard pay I’d earn?” She winked at him, hoping to lighten the mood. It was nice of Harold to give her the option of refusal, but Avery couldn’t turn down this assignment. Identifying a new, virulent flu strain was the chance of a lifetime, and she wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines and let someone else do all the work.
Harold smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d say no, but I wanted to give you the choice all the same.”
“I appreciate it. Is it just me?”
“No, there will be three other people accompanying you—two nurses and a lab tech. I haven’t met any of them personally, but from what I hear they’re the best of the best.”
Avery nodded, pleased to hear about the reinforcements. If the situation was as dire as Harold believed, they’d need all the help they could get.
He stood, and Avery did the same. “I’ll get your itinerary sent over. You’ll fly to New Zealand first, and get set up with all the cold-weather gear you’ll need to survive the place.”
“Oh, good.” That was a load off her mind. The Centers for Disease Control was located in Atlanta, which wasn’t exactly known for winter weather. Avery didn’t think she had a coat that could handle a Chicago winter, much less the cold of Antarctica. “What about medical supplies?” Since the base hospital was handling everything, they probably needed a good restocking. “Can we get some antiflu drugs, too, just in case?”
Harold nodded. “Draw up a list of medications and supplies you want added to the manifesto. I’ll see that it gets sent to the correct people.”
“Thanks,” Avery said, already turning her attention back to her computer. She pulled up a blank document and started typing, knowing there was no time to waste.
Containment suits, scrubs, respirators, bleach... Not to mention all the equipment she’d need to set up a field lab.
Harold walked to the door, but before he opened it, he turned back to face her. “Avery,” he said, his voice serious.
She glanced up, tamping down a surge of impatience at the interruption. “Yes?”
“Be careful out there,” he said, his gray eyes solemn.
Avery nodded, taken aback by his warning. In the five years she and Harold had been working together, he’d never once told her to be careful. For him to say so now drove home just how worried he was about the situation, and Avery felt a small weight settle on her shoulders. This case was different, she could already tell. And not just because of the exotic location.
“I will,” she promised. “We’ll get this thing under control and I’ll be back here bugging you before you know it.”
He tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I hope so,” he said. Then he opened the door and left, closing it softly behind him.
Three days later...
“Dr. Jones?”
The words drifted through the fog of fatigue that hung heavy over Grant’s mind. “Hmm?” Not his most eloquent response, but it was the best he could manage with his face half buried in the pillow.
“The plane’s landed.”
“M’kay.” The pillow was soft and cool under his cheek and he stretched, relishing the sensation of lying flat for the first time in days. He hadn’t caught more than a few snatches of sleep over the past week, and now that he’d managed to collapse on a bed he
