Page 99 of Deadly Strain

“Proud,” Sharp said. “He drew fire from you and gave you the chance to defend yourself and the wounded.”

All around the room, men nodded in agreement.

She stared at them, her hands opening and closing, like she wanted to hit someone. “He should have gotten the medal, not me.”

“Several someones thought differently,” Sharp said, keeping his tone as solid and sure as tempered steel. “We’re fighting people who use terror as their primary weapon. They want you to feel guilty. They want you to feel afraid. Don’t rent them space in your head.”

“Oh,” she said, partly laughing and partly crying. “They’ve got a mortgage on the whole thing. I’m going to need a good therapist after all this is over.”

“Get evicting already, we’ve got a job to do,” Sharp told her in his best drill sergeant voice.

“But, Marshall—”

“You let me worry about him. You’ve got to get your head back in the game. Get your stuff together. Wheels up in ten.”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she visibly pulled herself together and stood.

Max pointed at a stack of crates. “There’s ten percent formaldehyde solution. Take as much as you can.”

“Formaldehyde?” Sharp asked.

“It’s one of the better disinfectants for anthrax spores,” Grace explained.

“How else do you kill them?”

“Heat works, but it needs to be a controlled burn.”

“Blowing shit up is out?”

“That would be my last choice. Surfaces contaminated with spores might be moved or thrown clear of any resulting fire before the spores are destroyed. Spores can be viable even after forty years in soil. No viability range has been established for surfaces exposed to air, but I would err on the side of caution and assume years.” She began sorting through the supplies Max brought and seemed fine enough to leave alone for a few minutes.

Sharp walked to the other side of the plastic room Max worked in and waved the doctor over. “I don’t have time to convince you she’s safer with me than anyone else.”

Max didn’t say anything, just watched him with careful eyes and one raised eyebrow.

This was a test; one he was determined to pass. “You’re her commanding officer and her friend. How do I help her?”

Max smiled at him, the ruthless sort of smile a brother might wear when he’s about to irritate his little sister for her own good. “That was the right question. She’s intelligent and fearless when it comes to the safety of other people. It’s herself she’s not so good at looking after,” Max said in a low, rushed voice. “Become her shadow. Support her decisions. If she tells you to run, grab her and take her with you.”

Sharp let out a breath. “Thanks.” He turned, gathered up her pack and his, grabbed his loaned sniper rifle, and flashed the hand signal for a huddle with his team.

“You can come with Grace and me to Bostick or stay here. What’s it going to be?”

Hernandez spoke first. “We’re with you and the doc.”

The others nodded.

Sharp looked at them all in return. “Okay. Let’s get moving.” He headed toward the stockpile of supplies with his men a step behind him.

Grace looked up from an open box filled with what looked like spray bottles. “We need this case of disinfectant.”

“There is more in the truck,” Max told them without looking up from the microscope. “In buckets. Take what you need.”

“There aren’t enough bio-suits for everyone,” she said, her lips pressed together tight. “Only me.”

“You’re the most likely person to come in contact with the spores, so that makes sense,” Sharp said.

She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe we should limit the number of people who come on this trip.”

---