Munich, Germany

October 19

The EOO booked Allegro and Domino into adjoining suites at the Hotel Regent, a four-star establishment centrally located near the city’s main railway station. As Luka surveyed her plush room, automatically checking for listening devices, she nodded approvingly when she noticed the double-soundproofed windows. It was dark outside, so she could see herself clearly in the glass. As usual, her medium brown hair badly needed cutting. It fell well below her shoulders and her bangs kept getting in her eyes. She had no obsession with her looks, none of the preoccupation with hair and makeup that most women did. And during her home time between assignments, she much preferred to spend every minute with Hayley than in a salon.

She had been informed en route only that she would be teamed with Misha and that one of their European contacts would brief them at twenty-three hundred hours. She was given a duffel bag that contained several respiratory masks, latex gloves, and the weapons and high-tech equipment they might need for their assignment. It also held two syringes containing an experimental antiflu vaccine. She’d injected herself with one when the military jet took off from Andrews. The other was for Misha.

Luka sat on the edge of the bed and switched on the TV. Even that simple act made her think of Hayley. Before they met, she’d preferred to distract herself by listening to music and setting up dominos—her bones—in elaborate layouts that covered the polished wood floor of her sparsely furnished suburban Washington condo. She hadn’t even owned a television.

But falling in love had changed all that. She’d given up the condo, moving into Hayley’s warmly cluttered apartment; and snuggling together on the couch, sharing popcorn over the latest Netflix film, gave her immense joy.

As Luka flipped through the channels, she happened upon a news bulletin and paused to listen. The German reporter was relaying the country’s latest death toll. A recap of the “temporary” restrictions the government had enacted to deal with the growing pandemic followed. An eleven p.m. curfew had been imposed in the major cities. Only emergency personnel and health-care workers were exempt. Strict fines were being levied against citizens found stockpiling an unusual quantity of food and those who were profiteering from the crisis.

The grim situation here had been brought home to her when she’d landed at ten p.m. Normally the city center would have been bustling with people headed to and from bars, restaurants, and movie theaters. But the streets were virtually empty. All the cafes were closed, and the few pedestrians who dared venture out were wearing medical masks.

Luka was desperate to call home to check on Hayley, but private phone calls while on a job were prohibited. Just as well. Hayley had the day off, and it was four in the afternoon in Baltimore, a time when she often liked to indulge in a nap.

Luka had picked up the TV remote to seek something more positive to distract herself, when she heard footsteps in the hall, followed by the slamming of a door nearby. She smiled to herself even before she heard the all-too-familiar voice through the thin walls.

“Hi, honey, I’m hoooome.”

She went to the adjoining door and opened it. Mishael stood on the other side. They were dressed alike, in dark jeans and black, long-sleeved T-shirts. The outfit was almost de rigueur for ops on the job. Misha, at five-eight, was two inches taller, but the thick rubber soles of Luka’s black boots nearly made up the difference.

Hands on hips, Misha silently studied Luka as well, from behind a pale green surgical mask. Only the glint in her soft caramel eyes told Luka she was smiling.

“You plan to keep that on?” Luka smiled back.

“Yup, I’m accessorizing.”

“And keeping your lame mug from the world at the same time. Win, win.”

“Freak,” Misha said, and took a step forward.

“Lunatic,” Luka replied as she did the same.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Misha ripped off the mask and embraced Luka. “It’s been too damn long.”

They hugged for several long moments, Luka the first to reluctantly pull away from their embrace. It was true. Fifteen months had passed since she and Hayley had visited Misha and Kris in Venice. Misha’s dark brown hair was a little longer than usual, well below her collarbones. And though she was only thirty-six, the first tiny signs of crow’s feet had begun to appear, marring the smooth skin of her face. “Every time we try to make it to Europe, I either get an art-restoration gig or an assignment.”

“I know what you mean,” Misha said. “I hate that it takes a friggin’ pandemic to see you. I gotta tell you, retirement is looking better all the time.”

“Maybe, but I’d prefer some personal time while I’m still young enough to enjoy it.”

“Speak for yourself. I intend to keep going strong until I’m at least ninety.”

The statistics weren’t with them. They’d both seen too many of their fellow ops cut down in their prime. “I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Misha joked.

Luka gave her a lopsided smile.

Misha, apparently disappointed not to get the usual sarcastic retort from her, sat in a high-backed armchair by the window. She pointed to its twin. “Take a load off, and pull up a memory or two. Dilbert won’t be here for another thirty.”

Luka didn’t get the reference. It wasn’t their contact’s name, and her expression must have relayed her cluelessness.

“I can’t help it if the guy looks like a cartoon,” Misha explained.

It took her several seconds to connect the dots, and she was only able to because the syndicated strip appeared in Hayley’s paper. She wasn’t a big follower of popular culture. But Misha was right—their guy had the same flat-top, round glasses, and geeky ambience as his comic-strip counterpart. She smiled. “Come to think of it.”

Misha laughed. “So? Come on. Sit.”

Luka sat with a sigh.

“So what’s eating you?” Misha asked, studying her intently. “I mean, except the lung-eating virus.”

Most of the time, she envied Misha’s ability to keep a positive attitude no matter what. But considering the current circumstances, Luka found her demeanor mystifying. “Isn’t that enough? Aren’t you worried?”

“Sure. Who isn’t?”

“You don’t sound it.”

Misha rose and walked to the mini-bar. “Water, overpriced nuts, or wine? Go crazy, Monty’s paying.”

“Water’s fine.”

Misha threw her a bottle of Evian from across the room, then paced as she took a long swig from one of her own. She finally stopped. “In fact, I’m terrified.” She wiped a drop of water from her chin. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Kris, or you, or Hayley. But I don’t want to think about it too much. It’s pointless and…depressing.”

“How can you not think about it?”

“That’s the difference between you and me, Luka. I’m a half-full kinda gal,” Misha replied seriously. “I will not allow this virus or whatever else comes after this to stand in the way of my happiness. Not after I waited so long to find it. I intend to do whatever I can to stop whomever or whatever is behind this. That’s my focus. That’s what’s keeping me from screaming out my fear. You, on the other hand…” She seemed to be reconsidering what she’d been about to say. But the implication was clear.

“I what, Misha? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But you wish you weren’t. You wish you could run and hide and keep Hayley safe by closing the two of you off from the world.”

“So what? Now you’re calling me a coward?” Luka fought to contain her growing annoyance over Misha’s assessment. “Just because I’m aware of this screwed-up situation? I’m a coward because I want to protect the woman I love?”

“There are more ways to protect her. Do it by ending this.”

Luka stood and faced her. “And that’s another difference between us. I’m realistic and you’re overinflated.” Misha’s flippancy was increasingly irritating her. Normally she found it charming or funny, but right now, too many things were at stake.

Misha approached her slowly from across the room. Luka expected her to be irritated as well, but instead, Misha stopped in front of her and put her hand on Luka’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m cocky. But you know what? It works for me. Being here, right now, knowing we could possibly make a difference and, more important, keep the ones we love safe, simply…works for me,” she repeated.

Each op had their own way of dealing with the life-and-death situations they faced, and Misha’s tactic had always been to face things head-on, with humor and a touch of arrogance. Luka couldn’t fault her for that, because it had helped Misha succeed, and survive.

“And the best part,” Misha said, “is that I get a shot at it with my best friend. My wing woman. A very resourceful and competent individual I have always been able to count on.”

Luka’s irritation departed as quickly as it had flamed. “Same here.”

“Hayley is the luckiest woman on the planet to have you.” Misha wrapped an arm around Luka’s shoulder and squeezed. “You could never disappoint her. The two of you will be fine.”

Luka looked away as tears burned her eyes.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Misha said softly.

Luka didn’t see any point in denying it. She needed someone to talk to, someone she could trust, and that had always been Misha. “There could be three of us,” she said.

Misha chuckled and released her, clearly not getting the message. “Well, I didn’t know you guys swung that way but—”

“Hayley could be pregnant.” It was the first time she’d said the words to anyone, and they came out barely above a whisper.

Misha laughed. “Sorry?” She’d turned away and was headed toward the duffel bag of equipment. “I thought you said Hayley was pregnant.”

“I did.”

Misha froze and turned to her, wide-eyed and mute.

“If you keep staring like that, your eyes will pop out,” Luka said when long seconds passed with no change.

Misha plopped on the bed. “How?”

“Obviously not the traditional way.”

“Donor?”

“Yes.”

“Sperm bank?”

“No.”

Misha frowned. “Are you gonna tell, or are we going to play twenty questions?”

“Are you upset?”

“I’m not sure.” Misha looked a bit bewildered.

“The donor’s her brother.” Luka sat beside her on the bed.

Misha shook her head and stared down at the floor. “That’s dangerous, not to mention… incestuous.”

“Neither. The—”

Misha’s head shot up and she turned to Luka, wide-eyed again. “Oh, my God. The baby is yours.”

“Technically, yes.”

“She’s carrying your child.”

“Our child.”

“Huh?” Misha’s eyes were glazed. “Oh, sure. Yeah.”

“Hayley insisted it be my child. She wanted to give me the ultimate gift. Her way of telling me that although I was adopted and don’t even know my family, my roots are just as important. That I count.”

Misha didn’t respond, and Luka couldn’t read her expression. “Are you okay?”

Misha got up and walked over to look out the window to the dark beyond. “Do they know?” she asked without turning around.

Luka knew she was referring to the governing trio. “Not yet.”

Misha went silent again as she continued to stare out the window.

Luka finally broke the quiet and got to her feet. “Say something.” Misha was the last person to ever judge her, and would keep her secrets. But she didn’t know what to make of the quiet storm that was clearly brewing in Misha. “Look, I know it’s against the organization’s policy but I…we both want this so much. I’ve always wanted to belong to a family, a real family.” She put her hands on Misha’s shoulders from behind, but Misha still didn’t turn around or say anything.

“Hayley is the woman of my dreams, like Kris is yours,” Luka said. “She keeps me sane. And you…” she added, shaking her. “You’re my sister, my confidant, and my savior in many cases. But…”

“You want to give a child the life you never had,” Misha said quietly.

“Yes.”

Misha finally turned and looked at her. Her eyes were red, and a single tear made its way down her cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Luka. For both of you. I’ll make sure nothing happens to the runt or its mothers.”

Luka wrapped her in her arms, and Misha embraced her tight. A knock at the door interrupted the moment.

Luka looked at her watch. “It’s Dilbert.”

“Hold on,” Misha shouted. “We’re in bed…naked.”

Luka rolled her eyes. She was about to walk to the door when Misha grabbed her wrist.

“You have to promise me two things.”

“Name them.” Luka grinned.

“One, that I’m present when you tell Monty about Luka Junior.” Misha smiled back, that familiar mischief in her eyes.

“Why?”

“Because it’ll make this month’s traffic violations pale in comparison, and I’ll look good for once.” She grinned. “And two, I get to be the godmother.”

“We don’t even know if the embryo implantation has taken.”

“That’s irrelevant. You’ll keep trying if it hasn’t, so it’s just a matter of time. That’s why I’m calling dibs.”

Luka laughed. “As long as you don’t get to teach the kid how to drive.”

“That’s inevitable.” Misha waved one hand absently as though the matter wasn’t up for discussion. “She or he will have to learn from the best. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Misha crossed to the door just as Dilbert knocked again. “We’re coming,” she shouted again. “Real hard.”

Both of them laughed as she opened the door, but then it was down to business. Their mission had begun.

“The first cases were reported here on October ninth, with the first deaths a day later. That would mean the patient zero was infected sometime around October third, give or take forty-eight hours. Beijing time frame was about the same,” their contact said. “The Kinshasa, Cali, and Dallas outbreaks all followed by a day or more, so Munich may have been the first location targeted.” Dilbert sat on the couch, with Luka and Domino flanking him. Before them on the coffee table lay various documents the contact had brought.

“The outbreak probably started on the University of Munich campus, because the bulk of the first cases were either students or teachers admitted to the medical center there. The hospital’s the second largest of its kind in Germany, with nine thousand staff members and twenty-three hundred beds.” Dilbert extracted several sheets of paper from the pile: a campus map and computer printouts with staffing lists and other relevant information.

“This university do research with viruses?” Domino asked.

“Yes. The Max von Pettenkofer Institute houses the Departments of Virology and Bacteriology. Both do research and lab diagnostics of infectious diseases, and work in close conjunction with the medical school and university hospital.”

“Seems like a long shot someone there would be behind this,” Domino mused aloud. “They wouldn’t risk choosing a patient zero in their own backyard, unless it was an accident. But we have to rule out that possibility.”

“The government and WHO officials have been trying to access the medical records of the initial cases,” Dilbert said, “but the requests are still tied up with the hospital’s lawyers. So that’s the obvious place to start.” He pointed to a duffel bag he’d left by the door. “That has everything you might need. Netbook, navigator with blueprints, clothing changes, several different IDs, and so on.”

“It’s a lot faster for us to retrieve the hospital and school records than to have Reno try to crack those databases,” Allegro said. “He can cross-reference whatever we feed him. If we can track the commonality of the initial cases, we should be able to isolate where they were infected.”

“What’s the situation regarding security around the university buildings?” Domino asked. “Surveillance cams?”

“Pretty good coverage there,” Dilbert replied. “They’ve got cams inside and outside most classroom buildings, faculty offices, within the hospital, and in many parking areas.” He indicated the relevant documents. “They keep their digital video records for a year.”

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a pair of white security cards with magnetic strips and two keys on a ring. “Some of the more sensitive areas of the university—including the research labs and much of the hospital—require passcards. These are masters and will get you in everywhere. The keys are to a white van parked in the lot downstairs.”

He got to his feet. “Your boss knows how to reach me if you need anything else. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Chapter Fifteen

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 695