Page 37 of Viral Justice

She stared at him with pleasure-glazed eyes, and when he stroked two fingers into her without warning, she went off like Fourth of July fireworks.

He brought her down slowly, petting her until she groaned and flopped back on the bed. A quick trip to the bathroom to clean up and he went back to the bed, anticipating sleeping with her, but she was pulling on her clothes.

She smiled at him and walked over to kiss him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You could stay,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

“No.” She kissed him again. “I’d better slip back to my room now.” She stepped lightly to the door, peeked outside and was gone.

Max stared after her, standing naked and alone, the scent of sex in the air.

The hot languid pleasure in his muscles and blood, solidified into ice so fast it sent a shaft of pain through his guts.

Ali had gotten under his skin and now that he’d touched her, made love to her, he only wanted more. A lot more.

More than she was willing to give?

He could understand not wanting to get caught sneaking out of an officer’s room, but this felt different. Had he done something wrong? She seemed happy, so why the quick dash as soon as they were done?

He wanted more than a fuck buddy. He wanted all of her—her devious brain, insolent mouth and deadly body. Without getting caught.

* * *

Max arrived at hisoffice a few minutes early, before Eugene and the rest of his staff. He turned on his computer and discovered a couple of reports from two of his teams in the field.

He was writing a reply to a request for supplies and additional personnel when Eugene knocked.

“Sir?”

“Come in, Eugene,” Max said without looking up from his computer.

“Sir, I have an update on the flu here on the base.” Eugene’s voice was much too calm. “No more new cases, but three of the people who reported feeling sick yesterday are now showing symptoms of pneumonia.”

Max stopped typing to look at him.

“All three were admitted to the clinic ward last night.”

“How many are sick in total?”

“Twelve, sir.”

Not reassuring numbers. A flu with a 25 percent rate of serious secondary infection could be ridiculously deadly.

“I’ll head over to the clinic shortly to review their charts.”

Eugene nodded. “Another hospital pharmacy was broken into and all of its contents stolen last night. This time it was in Kirkuk, Iraq.”

“Do you have any good news for me, Eugene?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. We also have a report of an outbreak of flu in a refugee camp in Northern Iraq near the Turkish border. The numbers coming out of there are mixed. One person says only a dozen people are sick, while another says hundreds. What is clear is that the fatality rate among the infected is high, 25 percent.”

“Was that the only consistent thing to come out of the camp?”

“Yes, sir. That and a rather desperate request for help. Two doctors who were working there for the World Health Organization have already died.”

“What was the timeline?”

Eugene consulted his report. “The two men first showed signs of the illness, fever and intense vomiting approximately thirty hours before they died.”

---