“How long are we planning on being gone?” Samantha asked, realizing she jumped into this without asking any details.
“As long as it takes I guess. Could just be four or five days.”
They headed back into the airport and Sam sat next to Duncan as they flipped through a National Geographic he had bought at the gift shop. Her cell phone buzzed and she recognized Ralph’s cell number.
“How are you, Ralph?”
“Just tell me what I heard isn’t true.”
“What did you hear?”
“That you’re throwing your career away by following a psychopath into the jungle.”
“What do you want me to do? Go back to Atlanta and do phone interviews of flu patients in Arkansas?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
“Ralph, you’ve abandoned those people. If Agent X doesn’t abate on its own, the entire population of the island could be wiped out.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I’ve actually slept these past three days and haven’t been in the bathroom vomiting? I’m sick with myself, Sam. I hate this. I’ve seriously considered quitting, but in the end, I knew it wasn’t the best thing.”
“Why not? Quit and come with me.”
He laughed. “Impulsivity’s the kingdom of the young and I’m not young anymore. We have to be utilitarian in this; the greatest good for the greatest number.”
“Why were we allowed to leave? Any one of us could be infected?”
“No one that was allowed to leave showed any symptoms of infection for longer than the incubation period.” He hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Where are you right now?”
“Hopping onto a flight in LAX. Why?”
“Where are you heading after that?”
“Florida and then Peru. I should be back to work within a week. If there’s work waiting for me.”
He paused a moment. “It’ll be waiting for you. Just be careful out there.”
“I will, Ralph. Thanks.”
As she hung up, Benjamin noticed that she had been speaking on the phone and he walked over.
“Who was that?”
“Ralph. Why?”
“You didn’t tell him where we are, did you?”
“I told him we were boarding a plane.”
“What are you so interested in that for?” Duncan said.
Benjamin said, “So, the whole island was abandoned on the off chance one person might bring the disease onto the mainland, right? How do you think it is that they’ve just let us fly out without so much as a doctor looking us over?”
“No one on that plane showed any signs of infection,” Duncan said. “Why wouldn’t they let us leave?”
Sam said, “No, he’s right. They’re sentencing people to death and they just let us walk away.”
“I don’t understand the big deal.”
Benjamin said, “The big deal is that they shouldn’t have just let us walk away. By right, we should be in quarantine.” He looked to Sam. “Did you offer where you were or did he specifically ask?”
“He asked.”
“If they wanted us in quarantine,” Duncan said, “they’d just ask us to go. We’d all comply.”
“Not if it was indefinite,” Benjamin added.
“They wouldn’t do that. That’s not quarantine, that’s prison.”
“Let me ask you this, Dr. Adams: is there anything the government is forbidden from doing in the interest of national security? Dick Cheney, Bush, and then Obama and Holder made sure that the government has unlimited power as long as they say they’re doing it for the interest of the greater good.”
“Within reason. Anything else is just basement conspiracy theory.”
Sam said, “Why would they book us a flight on a military charter?”
“Maybe someone was supposed to meet us when we landed that didn’t show up?”
Sam stood. “Enough guesswork, let’s get to our flight.”
CHAPTER 35
Ralph Wilson raced through the Hollywood International Airport in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Several military police surrounded him, their rifles held low. The airport was busy with summer travelers and they had grown infuriated at the cancellation, at least temporarily, of all incoming and outgoing flights. The military, FBI, Homeland Security, and Fort Lauderdale Police had commandeered the building and evacuated all the patrons. The airport was now only filled with men in uniforms; Ralph was the only one in a business suit.
In one sense, it sent a shiver down his spine. He had seen what occurs when people are granted too much power. But he had also seen what happens when Mother Nature gets out of control and her attacks are not contained. It was the greater danger, and had to be stopped. At any cost.
They finally came to terminal 3 and Ralph looked out the window to see a US Airways concord landing and running the course of the tarmac before turning and slowly making its way to the terminal. It was flight 1237: Samantha Bower’s flight.
The decision not to quarantine them on the island was one Ralph had to fight for. Now they would be quarantined in a house on the outskirts of LA County and all their needs would be provided for. But he knew Sam and to a lesser extent Duncan Adams. Not to mention the dozens of other military and federal government employees that had been ordered quarantined. They would object and put up a fight. It was much better to simply drive them from the airport to the quarantine zone rather than have someone pull a favor with a Colonel and have all of them released.
But Sam, Duncan, Benjamin Cornell, one of his assistants, and Special Agent Donner had made it through. Donner was the one Ralph was most interested in. He didn’t act like a federal agent and Ralph had known dozens of federal agents in his twenty-three years as a federal employee. Ralph still had friends at the bureau; many of his military buddies had joined the bureau after serving their stints in the Armed Forces. He called a special agent in charge out of Chicago and within minutes had Billy Donner’s file emailed to him. It was identical in content to what Billy Donner had told him, except for one thing: the photograph of Special Agent William Henry Donner was not a photograph of the man Ralph had interacted with in Hawaii.
The Army’s biohazard unit rounded the corner. With the space suits, thick Kevlar gloves, and plastic faceplates, they appeared like aliens casually strolling through some intergalactic spaceport. It would have made Ralph smile if they weren’t about to forcefully detain one of his most dedicated employees.
The plane would be stopped outside of the terminal and the biohazard unit would go in and explain the situation to the passengers. It certainly wasn’t the best way to maintain calm, but he couldn’t risk any of them stepping off the plane into the airport. If the media ever found out that a possibly infected patient ever came into the airport, there’d be a shit-storm of blame-game, everyone looking to find a scapegoat, and the fault would probably land on his shoulders.
The biohazard unit walked by, one of them turning and giving a thumbs up to Ralph. He nodded in response and watched as the plane slowed and stopped at the gate. It connected to the terminal and the unit went in.
He couldn’t hear anything and so his eyes were fixated on the cockpit’s windows. The two pilots were speaking to each other as someone from the unit came in and spoke to them. There was some nodding and hand gestures, but the pilots didn’t seem terribly surprised. After 9-11, Ralph guessed, nothing surprised them.
The bus had arrived and was pulling near the plane. It would take the passengers to the makeshift medical clinic that had been thrown together on the outskirts of town. They had built it in an abandoned factory and it would have minimal staff, but they would only spend double the incubation period sequestered. No more than twenty days. Sam, Duncan, and the rest would be heading off to the mansion Ralph had lined up for their quarantine: a six bedroom home complete with swimming pool. In time, she would forgive him and understand. Perhaps with age or a couple more promotions.