For the first few years of her career, she had done exactly what she’d advised her EIS agents to do: she had called her mother whenever she landed for a deployment. As she’d grown older, she had gotten out of the habit, but that night in Nairobi, sitting on the stripped bed in her hotel room, Peyton dialed her mother.
Lin Shaw answered on the second ring, and Peyton got the impression that she had been crying.
“Everything all right?” Peyton asked.
“Yes, dear. Where are you?”
Peyton told her, and they made small talk, about the flight, and her sister, and her mother’s quilting. After Peyton’s father passed away, Lin had raised her son and two daughters alone. Peyton had always been close to her mother, but that night, for the first time in years, her mother ended the call by saying, “I love you very much.”
When she hung up, Peyton wondered if her mother was sick. She got the distinct feeling there was a secret of some sort her mother wasn’t telling her.
For some reason, her mind wandered to her brother, Andrew. He had died in Uganda, in 1991, while working on an AIDS awareness campaign for the WHO and Ugandan government. On a hot summer day in August, he was working in a village in the eastern part of the country, inside Mount Elgon National Park, when a forest fire consumed the village, killing Andrew, his Ugandan liaison, and all the residents. They had to verify his identity based on dental records and personal effects. At the funeral, on an overcast day in San Francisco, there was very little left to bury.
Peyton was thirteen then, and when the service was over, a woman with wavy blond hair walked over and introduced herself, speaking in an Australian accent. She had been a friend and colleague of Andrew, and Peyton sensed that perhaps they had been more. The woman reached into her pocket and brought out an item Peyton knew well: the silver pin Andrew had received a few years before at his medical school graduation—a gift from their father. The woman handed it to Peyton and said, “I believe your brother would have wanted you to have this.”
Peyton had turned it over in her hand, examining the serpent that wrapped around the staff. She was surprised that it wasn’t charred.
“I thought it burned.”
“I had it cleaned and refinished. I wanted you to have it in the same condition it was in when your brother carried it. All things can be repaired, Peyton. Some simply require more time than others.”
On that shadowy day in August, holding Andrew’s pin as the wind blew through her brown hair, Peyton knew for sure that she wanted to be a physician—and that she wanted to work in the field, helping people. Maybe it was because she wanted to continue Andrew’s work—he had been both her hero and her father figure—or maybe it was because she thought being an epidemiologist would somehow help her understand him or bring her closer to him. But she was certain being a doctor was what she wanted to do. And she had never regretted her career choice since. She knew the risks, and they were worth it to her.
She rose and set about getting ready for bed. She brushed her teeth, turned the shower on, and stripped off her tan service khakis. She sat naked on the closed toilet while she waited for the water to warm up. Her mind focused on her upcoming decision: Lucas Turner, the twenty-two-year-old American. Peyton wondered if he would be alive when she reached him. If so, what sort of shape would he be in? Would ZMapp be effective against the unknown viral hemorrhagic fever? Could it possibly make him sicker? And with or without ZMapp, would Lucas survive the trip to America? That was, if she followed the original plan she’d discussed with Elliott—the plan the director of the CDC had approved. That plan had been based on certain assumptions, and in the past hour, those assumptions had changed. The pathogen wasn’t Ebola.
Emory had the advanced medical assistance Lucas needed—but if they flew him to Atlanta, she would be bringing an unknown, deadly pathogen into the United States, putting three hundred million lives at risk. All to save one young man. But if she left Lucas in Africa, he was, for all intents and purposes, on his own, left to fight off the infection or die, and that didn’t sit right with Peyton.
In the steam-filled bathroom, a plan began to take shape in her mind.
Day 3
32,000 Infected
41 Dead
Chapter 21
Reuters News Alert
Authorities in Hong Kong and Singapore have issued an entry ban on anyone arriving with symptoms of an unidentified respiratory disease. Members of each government, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said that the disease in question is not another outbreak of SARS, but instead a contagion believed to be more flu-like and persistent in nature. It is unknown how many people are infected in either city at this time.
Chapter 22
At five a.m., Peyton, Jonas, and their teams loaded onto the Air Force transport and departed Nairobi for Mandera. The air ambulance and a Kenyan air force transport followed along.
The passenger compartment in the US Air Force transport was cramped. In total, seventy-eight members of the combined teams sat in chairs, on the floor, and against the walls. Some of the young men took turns standing and sitting while Peyton and Jonas carried out the briefing, giving the integrated teams their assignments.
When they landed, the sun was rising over the rocky, barren hills surrounding the airport. A convoy of military trucks with canvas backs sat waiting for them. Dr. Phil Stevens led the team that would be interviewing the airport’s employees, building a timeline and contact tree for the British radar technician.