The Genesis Plague (2010)

was no mere physical response to stress.
    ‘Randall? You there?’
    He pressed the receiver to his ear. ‘Do nothing until that cave is cleared out. Understand?’
    ‘Let’s be sensible about this. Al-Zahrani’s been infected …’
    Infected. The word lingered in Stokes’s mind as he stared at the handkerchief. Infected?
    ‘So maybe we can use that to our advantage.’
    ‘After all our preparation and planning, there is no way in hell that I’m going to rely on one catalyst. You heard what Frank told us: rapid transmission is critical. It’s the whole purpose for what we’ve done inside that cave. If Al-Zahrani is isolated, the whole thing fizzles out. There’ll be no back-pedalling now. We’ve come too far for that.’
    ‘Technically, we have no idea what the real effect might be,’ Crawford challenged indignantly. ‘Remember, none of Frank’s scientists knew how this thing would be used. We have no guarantees. These aren’t lab mice …’
    ‘Fine. We’re hunting with a shotgun instead of a sniper rifle,’ Stokes quipped. ‘So be it.’
    Outside, the driver had just gotten out from the car and was making his way around to the passenger side. Stokes didn’t recognize the man’s face. ‘There’s no such thing as a perfect plan,’ Stokes said. ‘Now scrape your men together and open that tunnel. Anyone asks questions, you tell them you’ve got four more terrorists to pull out of that hole. That’s all anyone needs to know.’
    As the female got out from the car, Stokes did a double take. Even from a distance she looked awfully familiar.
    ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Crawford said, exasperated.
    The connection went dead.
    Growling in frustration, Stokes slammed the receiver back on its base. He glared at the handkerchief again before stuffing it back in his pocket.
    When he directed his attention back outside, the couple were out of view. So he spun his chair to a flat screen monitor dedicated to the cathedral’s close circuit security cameras. To the left of the display he referenced a schematic of the first floor and used the mouse to double-click one of the embedded camera icons in the section representing the main lobby.
    The camera’s live feed filled the monitor - a straight view that perfectly framed the couple. Stokes worked the zoom controls to get a close-up of the female. He froze the feed, dragged a virtual box over her face then double-clicked the frame to enlarge the image. His eyes went wide. ‘Can’t be,’ he muttered.
    He went to his e-mail screen, pulled up the message he’d sent to the Boston assassin and opened its JPEG attachment.
    A perfect match.
    ‘What in God’s name is she doing here?’ It was insult enough that the miserable prick of an assassin had botched his assignment. But this? Having her show up on the doorstep? Now?
    He slid open the desk drawer, pulled out his Glock and confirmed that the ammo clip was full. Clicking the safety off, he dropped it into his jacket pocket.
    The computer let out a small chirp to alert that a new e-mail message had arrived.
    ‘Now what?’ he grumbled. When he saw who’d sent the message, his heart faltered. ‘It’s about time, Frank,’ he muttered. He opened the e-mail and read Roselli’s long-awaited message:
    How ironic that I’d come to your office to kill you. But as always, you were a step ahead. Congratulations, Randall! If there is justice in this godforsaken world, you will no doubt confiscate my PDA, which holds the incriminating information about your mad conspiracy to exterminate innocent people in the name of God. If so, you may have noticed the thin residue coating its keyboard. See that rash on your hand? …
    Pulse accelerating, Stokes turned over his hand and assessed the raw, inflamed skin on his palm.
    Since you’re so obsessed by disease, it’s only fitting that you die from pestilence. That was a highly concentrated strain of anthrax you touched. Even more potent than the Ames Amerithrax we’d field tested in 2001. When absorbed through the skin it’s 100 per cent lethal, non-transmittable to others. Engineered for selective reduction, or covert assassination. If you touch your nose, eyes or mouth, its virulence will be intensified. Death comes swiftly, but not before two to three days of intense suffering as your respiratory system bleeds out and chokes you. Or maybe you’ll choose to hasten your demise by your own hand? Good riddance. See you in Hell.
    Stokes’s shoulders