The White House
Washington, DC – 12 PM
Janet Powers walked at an urgent pace through the hallways of the White House. Being National Security Advisor, her office was on the opposite corner of the floor plan from the Oval Office. She a hung a right and passed the lobby – her mind, racing with the latest threat. Her physical frame stomped its way across the blue and white carpet. Having to earn everything as a black, inter-city kid growing, she had a confidence and candor to her that was unparalleled to any in the building. She had a wide nose, full lips and deep brown eyes that would stare down any terrorist in her way. She turned left, passing the mustard walls of the Roosevelt Room.
As she passed she caught the eye of Chief of Staff, Marty Jacobs who was meeting with a few congressmen. He had just pushed them for thirty minutes to endorse the president's latest initiative with his usual aggressive tactics. Powers cocked her head slightly with a grim expression.
Jacobs knew where she was headed and that he needed to follow.
"You have been Chief of Staff for three years... you've seen it. The President is not instilling the progressive reform he had promised to our party... I know you have to be among the dissenters of his across the aisle tactics... With a re-election run on the horizon, he's gonna need the party's support. Just do us the favor and put the birdy in his ear." The Congressman leveled with him. Jacobs stopped for a moment to consider the truth spoken, but quickly ended the meeting to the Congressmen's dismay.
"I am sorry gentlemen, but something has come up that needs my attention." He closed his day planner and ascended to his feet.
"Now Marty, I'll think about that solar deal – but you weren't as persuasive as I thought you would be...." The Congressman from Michigan commented, the others laughed as they rose out of their chairs. His eyes ran up and down the Chief of Staff before him. With a slick suit and shined shoes, Marty Jacobs had a full, strong frame, despite his short height, a pointing, large nose. His light red hair line settled in a small peninsular over his forehead. It resembled flames as it slicked back in the most suave way. Jacobs was known for his unctuous swagger – part salesmen, part broker. Jacobs's thin lips pursed at the Congressman.
"This was only our first date, Congressman... I haven't even tried to take you home yet..." The biting candor didn't settle well with the Congressman, but he laughed it off. Jacobs's eyes, however, glared an determination. He pivoted on his heel and left the Congressmen to see themselves out. The Chief of Staff exited the Roosevelt room and met Powers in the hall.
"How bad?" He asked in quick step toward the Oval Office.
"Pretty bad...." Powers responded as they entered the Oval Office.
Upon seeing his National Security Advisor and his Chief of Staff enter in such an urgent rush President George Hooper stood immediately. Hooper was tall and lean, graying from the stresses of the office. Shining from his gaunt face were his trademark baby blue eyes. Political commentators often quipped that it was those Sinatra blues that had won the female vote for his election.
President Hooper was a Georgia native, who was as close to a moderate as one could get, picking up Blue-Dog tendencies throughout his 25 year career in politics. Hooper was a nominal Democrat but to the dismay of those closest to him, especially Jacobs, his long time best friend and former law school roommate, he had begun to lean right on many of the crucial issues of his presidency.
He was forthright with his opinions and his allies and opponents alike trusted his word. He had become known for his unbiased prudence – never timid to speak his mind once he knew his stance on an issue, but always deliberate and rational in finding his stance.
"Now I was just starting to enjoy my day, but a barge in like this usually means its about to come to a screechin' halt..." He had gotten the nickname Cool Hand Hoop for his ability to calm through any situation.
"We have a situation, Mr. President..." Power's eyes weren't lying.
"If I had a nickel...." Hooper's voice trailed as he leaned back in his chair.
"There has been a break-in in the NIH."
"--What!" Jacobs interrupted.
"An armed man besieged a BSL-4 laboratory and stole an anonymous bacterial contagion. Seven men and women were killed in the raid. He has gotten away with the contagion and the FBI is trying to track him down. The news isn't on the story yet. We have been able to keep it under wraps, for now. It will leak eventually though," Powers stated.
"You said... anonymous bacterial contagion? What do you mean?" Hooper asked.
"We don't know what it is until after a biological profile has been completed and it takes a long time to perform a full biological profile," she responded.
"But how?! Can't they just put in a machine... It's the 21st century—"Jacobs interjected, but was interrupted quickly by Powers.
"People tend to forget that Biology is the newest field of science. Physics, Astronomy, Geometry were all explored thousands of years ago. Even in Galileo's time, the human race knew more about the heavenly bodies than they did their own. In many ways we are still cavemen when it comes to the complexity of the biological sciences." Powers adjusted her blouse to the silence of the room. The President's finger perched on his lips in a contemplative stance.
"Does anyone know anything?" The President asked slowly, hopeful for a lead.
"The sample was undergoing initial biological profiling. All we know about it is that it killed a few people in West Africa and it is not Ebola. The sample was being analyzed by the laboratory technician. She did survive the attack. Her name is Catherine Mueller."
"How do I know that name?" Jacobs asked.
"She led our analysis on stem cell research. Although she is young, she is becoming an expert in the eye's of her peers," Powers spoke fast in briefing mode.
"So where is this Catherine Mueller?" President Hooper's question loomed.
"She is being questioned by the FBI but from what I have heard she is in shock and is still unresponsive."
"How much would she be able to learn in the time she had with the bacteria?" Jacobs asked.
"I don't think she would be able to learn very much...." She answered.
"What about our suspect?" He turned to Powers.
"The laboratory has 5 security cameras, one of which was directly centered on Catherine's workstation. We have a clear image of the suspects face. The NSA is currently running a scan of the man's identity. No hits yet," Powers briefed.
"No hits?" Jacobs asked, surprised.
"No... the NSA usually gets a hit within 5 minutes, but nothing. We are cross-referencing with multiple agencies to find our suspects identity, but chances are... he doesn't have one," Powers explained.
"Everyone has an identity, Janet.... You just have to find it...Keep me briefed.... Is there anything else?" Hooper eyed his Chief of Staff and his National Security Advisor.
"Yes, Mr. President.... There is one more thing.... something was odd about his intrusion..." Powers note dropped an octave. Jacobs leaned forward.
"Janet, what is it?" Jacobs asked short.
"He entered a Bio-Safety Level 4 Laboratory with no protective clothing. He just walked in combat gear. He could have been infected and didn't seem to mind." President Hooper stopped as the implication dawned on him.
"Is he intentionally trying to infect himself?" He asked.
"We don't know exactly how it spreads and infects a host but... It appears so Mr. President..." The President fell back in his stance and exhausted a gasp. His eyes reached out to distances as his mind ran through scenarios.
"If a terrorist would strap a bomb to their chest, why not carry a weapon inside of them... its undetectable and as deadly... we have a Patient Zero at large." The silence hung in the Oval Office as they realized they were up against a new form of terrorism – one that, at the moment, seemed unstoppable. President Hooper's teeth bore down on themselves.
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