Masked

CHAPTER 34 | the road to hell...

Atlanta, Georgia

Parker exited the temperature-controlled airport and stepped into a hot wave of humid Georgia air. Her blouse melded to her skin as she headed to the taxi stand. Her body adjusted to the ninety-degree heat, and a light sheen of perspiration dotted her forehead. She grabbed the nearest cab, climbed in, and gave directions before she changed her mind. The empty feeling in the pit of her stomach grew, adding to her nervousness.

The mid-afternoon traffic was light as the taxi navigated the thirty-minute drive to Druid Hills. The closer they came to her destination; the tighter her chest became, and her breath grew more erratic with each bump, crossroad, and traffic light they passed.

Breathe in. Breathe out. She repeated the chant as she focused on her mission.

She had researched and analyzed every possible outcome of this meeting. Each resulted in the same ultimate conclusion. The only unknown was when.

Today? Tomorrow? Next Week?

She knew from experience that there would be no choice. They would follow procedure, and procedure dictated... Parker shuddered. She did not even want to think that far ahead. If she did, she might have the taxi driver turn around and head back to the airport.

She focused on her breathing again. I'm doing this to save lives, to protect my friends, and to keep them safe. The fact that she would probably never see them again pained her beyond belief. Her heart broke a little more each time Daniel's face crept into her thoughts. He would never forgive her for what she was about to do.

Their relationship, strange and tenuous as it was, would be the one thing she clung to in the undoubtedly harrowing days and months to come. The sound of his voice, his fierce pride and sense of responsibility, and the way he set her on fire with a single look. These memories of him would be the one place she would go in her mind to give her the inner strength she would need to get through this.

By the time the taxi approached the sprawling grounds of CDC's Arlen Specter Headquarters, she was focused, determined, and calm.

She strode into the building and approached the nearest security guard at the reception desk in the large lobby. "Good afternoon, my name is Parker Johnson. I have an appointment with Dr. Petra Baghurst."

The guard signed her in and directed her to a waiting area on the far side of the foyer.

She hid a smile as the molecular biologist she was here to see exited the lift a short while later. Petra Baghurst looked a lot younger in real life than she did on the CDC profiles page. People would be hard pressed to believe she was in her mid-forties. From Parker's investigation, the woman was married to her job, was liked by her team, and never seemed to take a holiday.

Dr. Baghurst pushed her hands into the pockets of her white lab coat and frowned. The doctor's eye's darted around the lobby.

She understood exactly why Dr. Baghurst looked confused.

To ensure that she could meet with the doctor in charge of the outbreak, Parker had hacked the team leader's computer, scheduled a meeting in her diary, and placed a couple of fictitious emails in her inbox. The emails implied that they had met before.

The doctor must have been mildly shocked when checking her calendar for that morning to find she had an appointment with a drug representative she couldn't remember scheduling.

She drew in a deep breath and decided to put the doctor out of her misery. "Dr. Baghurst, Parker Johnson. Pleased to meet you."

Dr. Baghurst schooled her confused expression and led Parker to a meeting room. The CDC doctor closed the door and took a seat across the table from Parker. "So, tell me, Ms. Johnson, how may I help you?"