Page 114 of Viral Justice

Her gaze narrowed. “Improvise how?”

There was no point in hiding it. “I’m going to test it on myself.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario if the test goes wrong?”

“I die of the flu.”

She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the only doctor we’ve got. You can’t test it on yourself.”

“I’m not expecting anyone else to do something I won’t.”

“I can guarantee you’ll have volunteers.” The determined expression on her face told him she was going to be first in line.

He had to head that off right now, but he knew Ali, knew she wasn’t going to let this go. She’d fight him tooth and nail. “If I can’t be the test subject, neither can you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

She gave up way too quickly. “The test subject has to be healthy, no sign of the flu.”

She frowned. “That doesn’t leave a lot of people.”

“I guess I’ll have to cross my fingers and toes that someone volunteers who’s not already sick.”

She didn’t answer, just watched him with that frown and a pale face. She had dark bags under her eyes too, making her look tired and sick.

“I’m going to get these eggs cooking. After you’ve approved the watch schedule, could you try to sleep?”

She pushed away from the wall. “I will, if you’ll do the same when you’re done playing mad scientist.”

“Deal.”

Ali nodded and left the room. Max got to work.

He opened the package and was pleased to see all the supplies he’d asked for inside and unbroken during its landing. Syringes, needles, gloves, masks, saline, and a number of small but vital things needed to prepare his homemade vaccine.

He candled the eggs the boys had brought and discovered fourteen that were at the right stage of embryonic development to use to grow the virus. He put four eggs that were too far along in their growth to chickens aside. The remaining ten eggs he gave to Fatima. She was soon happily transforming them into some kind of scramble with potatoes and a root vegetable he didn’t recognize. The kids must have gotten them. Damn it, there were too many people coming and going from this place.

The smell of food, real food, was so out of place in his stressed brain that it made him feel a bit nauseated.

Or it could be the lack of sleep.

Or the insane desire to choke Akbar, if he ever caught up to the slippery bugger, with his bare hands. For some reason, Max didn’t think he’d have trouble killing Akbar, hand-to-hand or with a gun. The man was sick in a way no medicine or treatment could cure.

Predicting his next move was like trying to see through muddy flood water. Too much, too fast, no obvious path.

Max carefully inoculated each egg. What was Akbar going to do next?

Making an accurate prediction was difficult. There were so many variables.

There were also a lot of militant and extremist groups who would welcome Akbar into their fold, supply him with a place to work and medical equipment on the promise that he was creating a massive weapon to use against the Western powers. None of those militants would suspect that he was willing to kill them along with their enemies.

All Max could do was imagine the worst-case scenario and assume that was what Akbar would attempt to engineer.

A worldwide pandemic that killed hundreds of millions. Was this flu capable of doing that?

Possibly.

And that possibility was enough to ensure that Max would break rules to try to stop it, including testing the vaccine on himself. Not a fact he was going to share with Ali.

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