“But we ordered you to stop,” yelled Jackson. “Right after the Richter Clinic outbreak.”
“Half-heartedly, I might add,” said Heberling. “You were pleased with the results. Not only did the Richter Clinic fold, but new subscribers to California health plans have leveled off for the first time in five years. The Physicians’ Action Congress feels an occasional twinge of conscience, but basically you’re all happy. And I’ve vindicated my beliefs that Ebola is a premier biological weapon despite the lack of vaccine or treatment. I’ve shown that it is easily introduced, relatively easy to contain and devastatingly contagious to small populations. Dr. Jackson, we are both getting what we want. We just have to deal with this woman before she causes real trouble.”
“I’m telling you once and for all,” said Jackson. “We want no further use of Ebola. That’s an order!”
Heberling laughed. “Dr. Jackson,” he said, leaning forward, “I have the distinct impression that you are ignoring the facts. PAC is no longer in a position to give me orders. Do you realize what would happen to your careers if the truth gets out? And I’m telling you that it will unless you let me handle Blumenthal in my own way.”
For a moment, Jackson struggled with his conscience. He wanted to grab Heberling by the neck and choke him. But he knew the man was right: PAC’s hands were tied. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “Do whatever you think is best about Dr. Blumenthal. Just don’t tell me about it and don’t use Ebola in Atlanta.”
“Fine.” Heberling smiled. “If that will make you feel better, I’ll give you my word on both accounts. After all, I’m a very reasonable man.”
Jackson stood up. “One other thing. I don’t want you phoning my office. Call me at home on my private line if you have to reach me.”
“My pleasure,” said Heberling.
Since the Atlanta-Chicago run was heavily traveled, Marissa only had to wait half an hour for the next available flight. She bought a Dick Francis novel, but she couldn’t concentrate. Finally, she decided to call Tad and at least attempt an apology. She wasn’t sure how much to tell him about her growing suspicions, but decided to play it by ear. She dialed the lab, and as she suspected, he was working late.
“This is Marissa,” she said when he answered. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m furious.”
“Tad, I’m sorry . .
“You took one of my access cards.”
“Tad, I’m truly sorry. When I see you, I’ll explain everything.”
“You actually went into the maximum containment lab, didn’t you?” Tad said, his voice uncharacteristically hard.
“Well, yes.”
“Marissa, do you know that the lab is a shambles, all the animals are dead, and someone had to be treated at Emory Emergency?”
“Two men came into the lab and attacked me.”
“Attacked you?”
“Yes,” said Marissa. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t know what to believe. Why does everything happen to you?”
“Because of the Ebola outbreaks. Tad, do you know who got hurt?”
“I assume one of the techs from another department.”
“Why don’t you find out. And maybe you could also find out who else went into the lab last night.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. No one will tell me anything right now because they know we’re friends. Where are you?”
“I’m at the airport,” said Marissa.
“If what you say about being attacked is true, then you should come back here and explain. You shouldn’t be running away.”
“I’m not running away,” insisted Marissa. “I’m going to the AMA in Chicago to research an organization called the Physicians’ Action Congress. Ever hear of them? I believe they are involved somehow.”
“Marissa, I think you should come directly back to the Center. You’re in real trouble, in case you don’t know.”
“I do, but for the time being what I’m doing is more important. Can’t you please ask the Office of Biosafety who else went into the maximum containment lab last night?”
“Marissa, I’m in no mood to be manipulated.”
“Tad, I . . .” Marissa stopped speaking. Tad had hung up. Slowly she replaced the receiver. She couldn’t really blame him.