CHAPTER 22

DAY 3
1:00 A.M. (EST)

Despite his smoldering anger at being denied due process following his arrest in Kalvesta, Griff grudgingly had to admit admiration for James Allaire’s ability to remain composed in the face of monumental decisions.

Some years ago, Griff had reviewed a journal article analyzing the nervous systems of professional tennis players. The hypothesis of the paper was that given the normal rate of nerve conduction, and the speed of a tennis serve, the serve would have been in the screen behind the receiver before he could react and return it. And yet, return serve they did—again and again. The conclusion of the researchers was that the speed of nerve conduction in the top players was some sort of anomaly—a mutation, perhaps.

Watching Allaire operate, wondering about the often historic consequences of his actions and decisions, Griff found himself speculating if the man’s nervous system functioned differently than the physiologic “normals” of the world. While those with normal decision-making processes were deciding what to do, the president of the United States had already done it.

At Allaire’s order, a quiet but thorough search of the Capitol had been conducted. The sweep disclosed cameras concealed in every room—at least two dozen units in all.

But none in the Hard Room.

Allaire’s counterattack began with architect Jordan Lamar’s casual brush past Griff. It took several seconds for Griff to realize a note had been pressed into the palm of his glove.

All correspondence from me will come through Lamar. J.A.

One by one, each of the president’s team received instructions. The Hard Room would be the only safe area for communications, but that space was to be used only for emergencies. Cameras would either be dismantled or left on as decoys.

Doc, one of the early notes read, we must assume Genesis knows who you are and why we’ve brought you here. YOU ARE NOW A CONSTANT THREAT TO THEM … stay away from the House subway line until we tell you. That’s going to be your way out of here and back to your lab. J.A.

Griff felt his stomach drop. He had entered the Capitol complex fearing and not trusting the president. Now, it appeared, he was the target of Genesis as well.

Not safe, he wrote back. No decon zone. Risk outside exposure.

Help us make it safe. Many lives at stake. Military will help. J.A.

A team headed by Salitas discovered six cameras expertly concealed inside smoke detectors in the hallway outside the subway. The state-of-the-art video equipment was providing a window into the supply delivery route running from the underground entrance into the Capitol complex.

Allaire ordered half of the cameras inactivated and the rest redirected and left in place. None of them was to be in a position to record any unusual increase in activity.

The cameras were not the only discovery made during the next few hours. Hank Tomlinson had been unable to locate one of his officers, a five-year veteran of the Capitol Police force named Peter Tannen. Tannen had been assigned security detail at the breached checkpoint and was now assumed to be a part of Genesis. The FBI was dissecting the man’s life with the intensity of their 9/11 investigation. Suspicion already was that he might no longer be among the living.

Griff and Angie slipped into the subway tunnel. Their mission was to get out of the Capitol and back to the lab at Kalvesta. Griff glanced over at a nearby wall-mounted clock and made a mental note of the time following the initial exposure.

Twenty-eight hours.

In another forty-eight, the first fatalities might be reported. He did not need a clock to tell him that the deaths would continue until there was nobody left in the Capitol to die.

The military team with him was Special Forces, trained to be first responders following a bioterrorist attack. Before the operation got under way, Griff briefed the group on the dangers of WRX3883.

“We’re used to working with anthrax,” one of the operatives said at the conclusion of Griff’s brief presentation. “This shouldn’t be that different.”

“If you get infected with WRX3883, you’ll wish it were anthrax. Be careful, but work as rapidly as you can.”

Two hours later, the team leader for the Special Ops unit approached Griff in her blue biocontainment suit. He could see through her visor that, like himself, she was drenched in sweat.

“We’re ready for your inspection,” she said. “Whoever that Angie is, she’s a hell of a worker.”

“I know.”

They were well ahead of the timetable.

“Good enough,” he said, nodding his approval of what was really impressive work.

In amazingly little time, the Special Ops team had created a reasonably safe, fully functional decontamination zone between the House side of the Capitol and the subway line connecting the complex to nearby office buildings. He overheard one of the soldiers say that they had just built a doorway between life and death.

Time to head for Kalvesta, he wrote to Allaire.

A lot of people are counting on you, the president’s return note read. Don’t let us down.

Angie materialized beside him.

“How’d we do?” she asked.

“The Special Ops people want to adopt you.”

“Thanks. They were ready to walk through fire for you. More and more you’re reminding me of that cowboy in Kenya that I took such a shine to.”

Her eyes seemed to light up the space behind her visor.

“Are you ready to decontaminate?” he asked.

“Are we ready to go?”

“As soon as Allaire says we are.”

“Lead the way.”

“Simple,” Griff said. “First, we’re going to take an ultraviolet bath.”

He pointed to an area that contained several large saucer lights mounted on tall metal stands. The lights were plugged into a running generator.

“What will they do?” Angie asked.

“Kill any virus still clinging to our suit. From there, we’ll shuffle into the portable airlock.” Griff gestured toward the clear plastic cube erected beside the entranceway separating the Capitol from the subway line.

“Won’t bad air get out when we go in?”

“The airlock is negative pressurized,” Griff said, “so that poisoned air from the Capitol won’t leak out into the tunnel.”

“And who’s gonna drive the train?”

“The system here uses a driverless car to shuttle members of Congress and their guests between the Capitol and the Rayburn building,” Griff said. “One less person to decontaminate.”

“Are you going to be the first through?”

“No, you are,” Griff said.

“Why me?”

“Well, all the women are going first.”

“Why’s that?”

“After the light bath you’re going to take a chemical shower. Then you’ll need to strip naked. There will be a change of clothes waiting for you on the train. You’ll put your biocontainment suit in the red toxic waste bags provided and leave them on the Capitol side of the airlock.”

“You couldn’t set up a divider, huh?” Angie said.

“I told the team that to save time we’d just turn our backs.”

“Anything for our country.”

Angie squeezed his hand and left to join a group of three women at the ultraviolet bath station.