Page 109 of Deadly Strain

“What next?” he asked her.

“I think we can safely say someone doesn’t want any of us to have the proper isolation equipment available.”

“Agreed.”

“If it were you,” Grace asked him, “revenge on your mind, and you wanted to kill a bunch of American soldiers, including a general, what would you do with a baseball-sized amount of anthrax spores?”

Scary question.

“I’d probably put a Plan A and B into motion. Plant some inside the base and throw some at the base.”

“Plant some,” she muttered under her breath. “Like in a workspace or gathering place?”

Sharp considered that for a moment. “Nope, if it were me that lost my family and I was wanting to kill those I decided were responsible, I’d take out the highest-ranking person in the organization by making sure my weapon was targeted at him. The throw-and-run type of weapon, I’d use on the grunts taking orders.”

She nodded. “I agree. Please send someone to tell General Stone and Colonel Marshall not to go back to their quarters until they’ve been checked for spores.”

“Yup,” Sharp said, nodding at Clark.

“Next, we need to evacuate the base. Get all the grunts out of here.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that’s going to work, sweetheart,” Sharp said.

“Why not?”

“If everyone leaves before the designer has released his pestilence on everyone here, he’ll just change his plans and target another base. One we might not know about. Now is the time to find him and stop him. Before he initiates his attack.”

“How are we going to do that?” She shook her head. “It won’t work. I’m not willing to sacrifice a few hundred soldiers like they’re nothing more than fish bait.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I want to hunt this fucker down and kill him before he has a chance to do anything else.”

“Hunt him where?”

“That’s what all those satellite pictures are going to help with. We should be able to narrow down the possible locations.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“We move on to the next location.”

“What if that’s wrong?”

“Grace,” Sharp said, smiling at her. “This is part of the job we’re actually good at.”

“Why don’t I feel reassured?”

He shrugged.

Clark came back at a run. “I was too late.”

“What?” Grace asked sharply.

“Marshall went to his quarters. When he opened the door, a light bulb fell on the floor and shattered, releasing a cloud of fine dust.” Clark stopped to take in a breath. “He closed the door right away, but some of the spores could be hanging around, right?”

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