“Not with that study,” said Kelly. Hope flared and died immediately as she continued: “He was one of the supporters of continuing cancer research. You know, since cancer will become a threat again once Kellis-Amberlee has been cured. So more and more of our budget goes to things like that, and reservoir conditions just get ignored.”
hink itight="0em" width="27">“How big a chunk of the CDC budget are we talking about?” asked Alaric. “Eleven billion dollars.”
Dave whistled, long and low. “That’s not chump change.”
“No, it’s not. I’d say maybe twenty percent of our research budget is actually being spent on research into Kellis-Amberlee-related conditions. The rest of it keeps getting siphoned off into studies that look good, but don’t do anything.” Her frustration was evident. “It’s like we’re being stopped from finding out what this virus really does.”
Probably because you are, said George.
“I didn’t know that was possible,” I said. “You’re the CDC.”
“And somebody has to pay the bills.”
“Right.” I stood abruptly, stalking back into the kitchen with my mostly full Coke in one hand and the stack of papers in the other. Behind me, Kelly started to ask where I was going, and was quickly hushed by Becks. Becks understood. Becks always understands.
The kitchen was cool and dark and, most important, empty. I put my things down on the counter, turned to face the wall, and began, methodically, punching it as hard as I could. The sound echoed through the room, gunshot-loud and soothing. My knuckles split on the fourth blow. I started feeling a lot better after that. I generally do. Pain clears the fog in my head, enough that I can think again. Besides, as long as I’m punching walls, I’m not punching people.
Someone was using the CDC’s budget to control their research. Someone was funneling research away from Kellis-Amberlee, into diseases that weren’t an issue anymore and problems that shouldn’t even have been on the CDC’s radar. And Governor Tate had been involved. The man who killed my sister. The man who changed everything. If Tate had his bloody little fingers in the pie…
If Tate was involved, so was whoever he worked for, said George, as calmly as I couldn’t. We have to help her. We have to find out what’s going on. This could be our chance, Shaun. This could lead us straight to the ringleaders.
“Yeah.” I stopped punching the wall, taking a shaky breath as I studied the new dent I’d created next to the half a dozen that were already there. We lost our security deposit a long time ago. “I know.”
Good.
If we helped Kelly, we could find out who was manipulating the CDC. We could find the people who ordered Tate to kill George. After that…
Maybe after that we’d both be able to rest.
I rinsed my hand in the sink, applying gauze and antibiotic cream before returning to the living room. There was no point in freaking Kelly out any more than the pounding noises doubtless already had. “Sorry about that,” I said. “I just needed to work through a few things.”
“It’s okay, boss, a said Dave. Alaric and Becks nodded their agreement.
Kelly bit her lip. “Is… is everything okay?”
“Not really, but we can pretend.” I walked back to my seat, belatedly realizing that my things were still in the kitchen. Oh, well. “So no one ever tried to figure out why so many people with reservoir conditions were dying?”
“Um.” Kelly blinked, apparently thrown by my return to the earlier topic. Then she nodded. “We got a new crop of interns recently. Very enthusiastic, very eager to prove themselves. One of them noticed the statistical anomaly while he was doing some filing, and he brought it to Dr. Wynne. What he said just didn’t sound right. I asked if I could look into it. Dr. Wynne was as surprised as I was, and he agreed.”
“That’s how you got started on this?” asked Alaric.
“I thought it was bad data. I thought I was chasing down a reporting error. Instead… this was huge. I put together a team of people I trusted once I realized what I was really looking at. Someone’s killing people with reservoir conditions in truly terrifying numbers.” She took a shaky breath. “And when my team started digging, they started killing us, too.”
“What?” Becks demanded.
Oh, shit, said George. I privately echoed the sentiment.
“There were eight people on my team when I started this study. Now I’m the only one left.” Kelly sniffled. I realized without any real surprise that she was on the verge of tears. “I need help. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Becks and I exchanged a look. Dave and Alaric did the same. Then everyone turned toward me, like they expected me to make the call. Oh, wait. With George gone, they did.
Crap.