Deke shifted in his chair. “I’ve done my time, and I’ve done my action. I’ve earned peace.”
“Speaking of motivation and peace, how’s the ex?” George’s upper lip twitched.
“Spirited,” Deke said. “Not happy to be taken off a beach in Hawaii.”
George full-on grinned. “Has she figured out you waited until her first day of vacation before sending in the team?”
“No, but she will.” There hadn’t been a choice, considering BioGlax Pharmaceuticals would’ve noticed its number-one team missing. “We have nearly two weeks until her people need to report back to work, and we’ll have the bacteria contained by then.”
“I hope so. We’ve had reports of illnesses in Key West that match the Scorpius symptoms.”
Deke rubbed the scruff on his chin. After the initial students had been released, they’d scattered for spring break until he’d had soldiers hunt them down and bring them back. “We knew there was a chance of some spread of the infection.”
“I know.” George stood. “I have a meeting on the Hill. When this is all over, I’d like to meet your ex, at some point. I’m quite curious.”
Deke followed suit and placed his glass on the desk. “How so?”
George tilted his head. “You’re military, and she’s well, antimilitary. Her people are from Argentina, yours from the Highlands of Scotland. Talk about opposites.”
Deke grinned. “She’s not an anarchist, George. She just thinks the government breaks too many rules.” He cocked a shoulder. “She isn’t wrong.”
“No, she isn’t.” George crossed around the desk. “However, I learned a long time ago that there are two types of people in this world.”
Deke turned for the door. “Do tell.”
“The kind who believes the ends justify the means, and the other kind.”
“Who are they?” Deke paused before opening the door and glancing at the older man.
“People who live the life they want because there are people out there, like us, making sure the ends justify the means.” Wisdom, right or wrong, lit George’s eyes. “For now, we claim the luxury of having two kinds of people.” He opened the door and clapped Deke on the back. “If we don’t get a handle on this infection, only one type of person will remain.”
A chill sliced into Deke’s temple. “Which one?”
“Survivors.”
Deke nodded and turned down the hallway, his mind spinning. George had pegged him right. He did feel more like himself now that there was something to fight, and wasn’t that all sorts of fucked-up?
He made his way through the building and out to his car, stopping then to check his phone. A text message from his contact at the CDC read:One of the new team was infected. Fever started two hours ago. Call in.
His legs stopped moving, and he slapped a hand onto the roof of his car. His gut clenched. What had he done? He quickly dialed Nora.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Nora? You infected?” He wrenched open the car door and slid inside, igniting the engine in one smooth motion.
“No. My assistant, Zach, was infected.” Concern rode her voice.
Deke pulled out of the lot, driving one-handed. Thank all the gods. “I’m on my way.” He clicked off to maneuver through traffic. What the hell had he been thinking? Not for one second had he thought about the danger to the research team. There were so many protocols in place. Nora ruled her lab, and he figured she’d be fine.
Yet her own team member now fought the fever.
Every instinct he had pushed him to yank her from the CDC, and he knew the urge came from the hardheaded warrior persona he’d tried so hard to shed. Was George correct? Did Deke belong in the fight and not behind the scenes? No, he’d tried too hard to banish the anger and deal with not only a crappy childhood but the things he’d seen in the service. Hell. The things he’ddonein the service. Now he could be a normal guy just living his life.
He could be that guy. He really could. Right?
Traffic hampered him, but he finally arrived at the CDC. His card would get him through any secured door, but he had to go to reception in order to find Nora. As soon as possible, he needed to memorize the layout of the building. An escort arrived, a young intern by the name of Judy, who led him through the building to a heavy metal green door manned by two armed guards. An imposing red biohazard warning spanned the door.
“You go the rest of the way on your own,” Judy said with a happy hop.
