“If there were experiments, they were done in a professional manner with volunteers who were aware of the risks. It’s no different than the private sector, like pharmaceutical companies paying people for their studies. These facilities do amazing research. That’s what you need to be focused on.”
She did understand that. It was what Ben and his colleagues did at USAMRIID. But the man on the stainless steel table in Ralph’s Meat Locker had been exposed to something extraordinary. And she couldn’t imagine him volunteering for something so severe.
“In order to do this kind of research,” Logan was still explaining, “they sometimes have samples—dangerous samples—on hand.”
He stopped and looked at her, checking to see if she knew what he was getting at. She stared back, waiting.
He took a deep breath and went on. “The samples are often stored in what you might call a lockbox. It’s a portable, self-sufficient biocontainment unit that keeps them climate-controlled and at a temperature that keeps them from being hazardous.”
“Biocontainment? What kinds of samples are you talking about?”
“Anthrax, dengue fever, a variety of man-made viruses.”
“Ebola?”
“Possibly.”
Now she understood his sudden change to desperation.
Once upon a time O’Dell had spent a week in isolation after being exposed to Ebola. Fort Detrick called their isolation unit the Slammer. It had been one of the most frightening experiences of her life. Any one of the Level 3 or Level 4 pathogens would be deadly. That someone may have killed the facility’s scientists in order to get their hands on those samples sent a new chill through her.
58.
Creed had his boots tied and was working on getting a T-shirt over his head when he noticed Grace’s head go up. Then suddenly Bolo was getting to his feet, too. He turned to find Jason making his way down the side of the gymnasium with a small brown dog trotting at his side. Her floppy ears were pinned back and her head jerked from side to side, nervous about the new surroundings.
Her right leg was wrapped in a bandage and the back of her neck had been shaved to accommodate the sutures that now poked out. He couldn’t help thinking that the dog looked like him—beat-up, stitched up, but not broken.
“Hey, Grace, Bolo.” Jason stopped and addressed them from about ten feet away.
Both dogs glanced up at Creed as if asking permission to go check out the new dog. He put his hand up and kept them in their places.
“When you told me the guy had something for you, you could have maybe told me it was a dog.”
“I guess he didn’t find any family?”
“Grandparents, but they aren’t able to have a dog where they live. He said they sounded really relieved to know she had someplace to go.”
Creed reminded Grace and Bolo to stay, then he went around the cot and got down on one knee. He held out a hand for the dog, keeping it low so it wouldn’t be over her head. When she didn’t approach, Jason brought her closer. Creed waited for her to sniff his hand before he attempted to pet her.
“The guy said you found her in a vehicle buried underground?”
“Bolo found her. She was the only one alive inside.”
“No wonder she’s skittish. What do you suppose she is?”
“Hannah will know. I’m guessing she has some golden in her.”
“She’s small for a golden.”
“Do we know her name?” Creed asked.
“Dog tag says Molly.”
Her ears perked up.
“Hey, Molly.”
She wagged her tail but kept it down.
“New recruit?” he heard Maggie say from behind him.
“One of the survivors from the landslide,” Jason told her.
When Creed had woken up and didn’t see her, he was almost afraid she had gone back to D.C. He was glad to see she hadn’t. Immediately he noticed the bruise on her jaw. He stopped himself from reaching out to touch it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked him.
“A little bit like I ran into a big concrete block.”
She smiled and he could feel her eyes running over his body, as if to see for herself how he was doing.
“Are you up for a short stroll? Just to talk for a few minutes?”
She looked to Jason before Creed did.
“I can handle this,” Jason told them. Already he had Molly at the side of Creed’s cot, letting her exchange sniffs with Grace and Bolo.
“Grace.” Creed waited for the dog’s attention, then pointed at her. “Be nice.”
Creed asked if they could go outside. Maggie still had her jacket on and he grabbed his, wincing as he put it on. Maggie noticed but thankfully didn’t try to help.
The air was crisp but not as damp. Different shades of purple stained the clouds where the sun had gone down. When Creed looked up he could see patches of sky through the thinning layers. Even some stars.
He took guarded breaths, trying to breathe more deeply, remembering what Dr. Avelyn had said about pneumonia. The pain meds made it easier but he could already feel them wearing off.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving me and Bolo.”