Kate shook her head. She searched the dim cathedral for the boys. They were curled up beside each other on the next pew, wrapped in several layers of the white sheets the helicopters had dropped. They looked so peaceful. Martin must have gone back out to get the sheets after she had passed out. She focused on him. “I want to finish our conversation.”
Dread filled Martin’s face, and he turned away from Kate and drew two more items out of the backpack. “Fine, but I need something first. Two things, actually.” He held up a blood draw kit. “I need a blood sample from you.”
“You think I’m connected to the plague somehow?”
Martin nodded. “Yes. If I’m right, you’re a significant piece of the puzzle.”
Kate wanted to ask how, but another question nagged at her. “What’s the second thing?”
Martin extended a round plastic bottle filled with brown liquid. “I need you to dye your hair.”
Kate stared at Martin’s outstretched hands—the plastic-wrapped blood draw kit in one, the salon product in the other. How much weirder could her life get? “Fine,” she said. “But I want to know who’s looking for me.” She took the blood draw kit, and Martin helped her with it.
“Everybody.”
“Everybody?”
Martin glanced away from her. “Yes. The Orchid Alliance, the Immari, and all the dying governments in between.”
“What? Why?”
“After the explosions at the facility in China, Immari International released a statement saying you carried out the attack and unleashed the plague, a weaponized flu strain—the product of your research. They had video footage—which was real of course. And it was consistent with the previous statement from the Indonesian government naming you for your involvement in the attacks in Jakarta and in performing unauthorized research on autistic children.”
“It’s a lie,” Kate said flatly.
“Yes, it’s a lie, but the media repeated it, and a lie repeated becomes perception, and perception is reality. Perception is also very hard to change. When the plague went global, everyone wanted someone to blame. You were the first story and, for many reasons, the best story.”
“The best story?”
“Think about it. A supposedly deranged woman, working alone, creating a virus to infect the world and accomplish her own delusional goals? It’s a lot less scary than the alternatives: an organized conspiracy, or the worst possibility—a natural occurrence, something that could happen anywhere, anytime. All the alternatives are ongoing threats. The world doesn’t need an ongoing threat. They need a crazy lone gunman, presumed dead. Or better yet, captured and punished. The world is a desperate place; catching and killing a villain puts a win on the board and gives everyone a little more hope that we might get through this.”
“What about the truth?” Kate said as she handed him the tube with her blood.
Martin dropped the tube into the top of the thermos. “You think anyone would believe it? That the Immari dug up an ancient structure, hundreds of thousands of years old, below Gibraltar, and that the device guarding it unleashed a global pandemic? It’s the truth, but it’s farfetched, even for fiction. Most people have a very limited imagination.”
Kate rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had spent her adult life doing autism research, trying to make a difference. Now she was public enemy number one. Fantastic.
“That’s why you hid me in the spa building.”
“Yes. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. There was nothing you could do about it. I’ve been negotiating for your safe passage and safekeeping. I just finalized a deal two days ago.”
“A deal?”
“The British have agreed to take you,” Martin said. “We’ll meet up with their team in a few hours.”
At that moment, Kate couldn’t help but glance at the sleeping boys in the pew.
“The boys will go with you,” Martin added quickly.
Hearing that Martin had a plan, that they would be safe soon, seemed to drain half the fear and tension from her. Her aching muscles hurt a little less and the weight of knowing that the whole world blamed her for the plague faded, if ever so slightly. She ran a hand through her hair. “Why Britain?”
“My top choice would be Australia, but we’re too far away. The UK is closer, and probably just as safe. Continental Europe will likely fall to the Immari. The British will hold out to the very end. They have before. You’ll be safe there.”
“What did you trade them?”
Martin stood and held the bottle of hair dye up. “Come on, time for your makeover.”
“You’ve promised them a cure. That’s what you traded for my safety.”
“Somebody has to get the cure first, Kate. Now come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”
CHAPTER 20
Immari Corporate Research Campus
Outside Nuremberg, Germany