Deadly Heat

Rook jumped in, blurting, “There wasn’t time,” then shrank back in his

chair after the looks he got.

Nikki explained the course of events, from finding Kaye’s shoulder bag, to tracking

down her gym, to the lead on her SRO and the bomb materials she discovered there. “

Sometimes you have to make a command decision in the field. Given the fluidity of

this situation, mine was to act with all speed rather than stop and wait for

protocols.” McMains, the NYPD counterterrorism unit commander, caught her eye; his

alone twinkled in unspoken agreement. Callan asked her the name of the place then

picked up his Bat Phone to dispatch a DHS swab team to the Coney Crest.

In this most uncomfortable moment, while Bart Callan made his call and Nikki felt

the judgmental stares of the task force, a curious sense of ease cloaked her.

Because even with all the tension and scrutiny coming her way, at least she felt a

respite from the two killers hunting her. Down in that stress-filled bunker, Nikki

felt safer than she did on the streets of New York. Then she wondered, What does

that say about my life?

Her reflection got interrupted by a text from Lauren Parry at OCME. “I suppose

there’s one other possible source of my contamination,” Heat said after Callan

hung up. “I just learned the body we exhumed—Ari Weiss, the man who was my mother

’s informant in the terror cell—contained residue of a biological toxin. Ricin.”

Agent Callan pressed another line and told someone on the other end to test Heat’s

blazer for ricin first. Putting the phone back in the cradle, he asked, “Is there

anything else you’re not telling us?”

Instead of rising to his bait, Heat stayed on point. “The significance of the new

autopsy on Weiss is that his COD wasn’t a blood disease, but a knife wound.”

“Same as your…” Callan didn’t finish, and took the silent interval to switch

gears. “We can discuss protocols and team sharing later. Let’s move forward. Dr.

Donald Rose is here from CDC in Atlanta to brief us. Don?”

The expert from the Centers for Disease Control, a tall, lean support system for a

walrus mustache, appeared more like an aging rodeo cowboy than a research chemist.

He poured a glass of ice water from the pitcher in the middle of the table.

“Thanks, Bart, appreciate it.” Nikki wondered if the drink would wash the gravel

out of his voice, or if he’d just down it and say, “Beef. It’s what’s for

dinner.”

“I’m here to bring you up to speed on what’s out there in terms of biological

agents,” he began. “Down in Atlanta, I coordinate prevention and preparedness in

the event of a bioterror strike.” He smiled. “I tell my wife, If I do the first

part right, the second part’s a breeze.” Not one chuckle. Instead of soothing, his

laconic approach made his content all the more frightening. “Through our syndromic

surveillance unit, we collect data on patients and symptoms at hospitals and walk-in

clinics nationwide. We survey the size, spread, and tempo of viral and bacterial

outbreaks. The idea of this is to track risks so we stay on top of them. Think of it

like the Doppler radar you see on your TV news, except instead of sniffing out

storms, we search for signs of an outbreak.

“What are we looking for? Lots. Let’s start with anthrax. We all remember the

anthrax incidents of 2001. It’s on our danger list but—not to minimize it—anthrax

is statistically inefficient for widespread dissemination in a big event scenario.

We do stockpile ciprofloxacin, doxycycline, and amoxicillin to treat it, though.