Page 53 of The Presidents Shadow

“Yes, I’ll tell you everything, Anna. But first, I’m going to tell the people who trust me. People whose names have been dragged through the mud along with mine. People whom I’m sure you yourself have smeared.”

“But I want—”

“I don’t care what you want,” I say, and cut the feed.

CHAPTER 72

THEY SIT AND listen. I stand and talk.

“I want to communicate and clarify everything about Jericho’s trip to Chapel Hill, North Carolina. But first I must begin by correcting a misimpression that I put forward at the very beginning.”

They look at one another. Confused? Annoyed? Upset? I’ve got to slow down.

“Let me put it to you simply… I lied to you,” I say, then backpedal when I see anger flash across Margo’s face. “Well, I lied a little.” When I gave out the assignments, I said that Jericho was going to the University of North Carolina to attend a meeting of amateur environmentalists to brainstorm about the recent problems around the world.

“The official name of the meeting was given as International Study of World Health Data.” But the real purpose was to bring together three of the world’s most important epidemiology experts to report on any insight that might be helpful in solving the question of how Newbola isspread. All three of the academics gathered there had been doing secret, independent research on the subject.”

Hawkeye speaks up. “And yet you sent Jericho? He’s not a public health expert.”

Strongly and slowly I speak.

“Let… me… finish.”

And I bring them up to date.

“I sent Jericho as an observer, a reporter, a notetaker. I think you’ll agree that among all of us, Jericho is the best at knowing when to listen and not talk.”

“Completely agreed,” Tapper and Burbank say at the same time, effectively proving my point.

“He spent two days sitting in on these meetings and was able to make some very important observations about the workings of Newbola.”

I press a key on my device, projecting what Jericho shared with me via email onto a large screen.

The most compelling conclusion is clearly this: the Newbola virus is transmitted in a very different manner than most quickly spreading contagions, which are typically transmitted via a cough, that is, airborne.

This contagion is more similar to some forms of hepatitis: THE BASE VIRUS MUST PHYSICALLY ENTER THE BLOODSTREAM.This is most effectively accomplished by injection, transfusion, or sexual contact.

I stop reading. I look at the group. “That means that it would be impossible for any of us to infect so many people across the world with Newbola.”

“Especially me,” says Tapper. “I can’t even remember the last time I had—”

“In any case,” I interrupt. “Whether it is merely a media frenzy, or if there is a dark guiding hand that wants the world to point a finger at us is yet to be discovered.”

“I’d like to advise that wenotbe the ones who inform the entire world that they should stop having sex,” Hawkeye adds. “We’re unpopular enough as it is.”

“Yes, let’s leave that to the WHO,” I agree.

“I say we make Dr. DaSilva do it,” Burbank says. “Make her public enemy number one, since she was so eager to believe it of us.”

Margo’s device goes off with an alert, and she glances down at it.

“Regardless of if we’re being framed or not, Newbola is definitely spreading. An outbreak was just reported in Texas. With that in mind, I think it would be wise for all of us to take Dr. DaSilva up on her offer of the vaccine.”

“Absolutely not,” I say immediately. “I’m not injecting myself with something if I don’t know exactly what it is and don’t completely trust the person it came from.”

“Lamont,” Margo says quietly, “it’s safe.”

“How can you possibly know that?” I ask.

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