Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“We started there, then realized that even if we pierce the envelope, the replication proceeds at the same pace, possibly even faster,” Evie says then tosses her long hair over her shoulder. “By the way, I read your paper on angiotensin-converting enzyme statins on Coronavirus Epoch in the New England Journal of Medicine two years ago. Solid.” She offers her fist.
“Wow.” I hesitantly reach out and bump it. “Thanks.”
Aang rolls his eyes. “Kiss ass.”
Gretchen moves closer, her eyes going wide. “So, about Juno’s Miracle …”
Valen. She’s asking about Valen. Whatever rapport I was just building deflates like a sad balloon. “I don’t know any more than you do.”
Aang scoffs. “Sure you don’t.” He points a finger at me. “I swear to god if we’re here and this whole ‘cure’ thing is just a bullshit campaign promise from your sister—smoke and mirrors for the cameras—I’ll—”
Gene edges up to get in front of me. “I wouldn’t keep going with that, son.” His voice is sterner than I’ve ever heard it. “Especially not with that finger-pointing nonsense. Keep your powder dry.”
The wrinkle between Aang’s eyes turns into a chasm. “The whole thing is impossible. Blood isn’t magic. We all know it, but we’re so damn desperate to grab onto something, anything, that we’ll jump at the chance for snake oil. That’s what your sister was betting on, and now here we are, standing around with our dicks in our hands.” He scoffs at Gene. “Oh, back off. I wouldn’t touch a hair on her mousy head. At ease, soldier.”
“It’s not snake oil. I was there when it happened.” I glance back at the doors and try to ignore the ‘mousy’ insult. “The guy from the press conference is supposed to be here for us to draw his blood, and then we’ll all see what we’re working with. We’ll all know the truth.”
“When?” Aang asks.
“Now, I guess.” I glance at my watch. “Or maybe in an hour or so. Soon. But he’ll be here.” I’m just talking out of my ass at this point. I have no clue if or when he’ll show up.
“Don’t mind Aang. He’s all bark.” Evie smirks.
He turns and lets out a rather realistic ‘woof’ at her. “Bitch.” But he doesn’t say it with any rancor.
“You love me. Anyway, what’s the plan?” Evie backs away toward her desk. “I’m a decent stick, so I can take the samples from him. Wait, do you remember how many vials I can get before I have to stop? Don’t want to kill the guy on the first go. It’s been a while since I’ve had to get so hands-on with someone.”
Aang snorts a laugh. “Facts.”
“Oh, shut up.” She turns and heads toward a supply cabinet. “We’ll need to send a few vials off to Atlanta via same-day courier—I think it’s the Marines? Anyway, Atlanta wants a crack at it, too.”
“They don’t have a shot. Not on my watch.” Aang turns and swaggers away. “I got this.”
“I’ll process the samples in the HCL for us to work on.” Wyatt, who speaks more quietly than any of the others, stares expectantly at the door. “Once he gets here.”
My phone beeps, and I sling my backpack around to my front to dig it out. I have a text from an unknown number.
“Your cell is working?” Gretchen digs around in her pocket and pulls hers out. “SOS for me. Damn.”
I’m waiting. Ninth floor.
Huh? I stare at my phone. “What’s on the ninth floor?” I ask.
“Up there?” Wyatt leans against one of the long tables. “I think it’s called like the Washington Suite or something. I don’t know.”
“I tried to go up. I guess I’m kind of nosy.” Gretchen blushes. “But the elevator won’t go past the eighth floor unless you have a key card for it. I think the top floor was only for the billionaires back before the plague.”
My phone beeps again.
Now.
“I need to ah …” I shake my head. “I think I need to go to the restroom.”
“Oh, there’s a nice big one just outside.” Evie is pulling more vials than anyone could fill from a cabinet. “This was a hoity toity ballroom before we turned it into our super lab. Head out the doors and take a right. You’ll see the signs.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I turn to Gene. “You good here?”
“Right as rain.” He eyes Aang’s messy desk again. “Got some things to be working on. Yes, I surely do.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for the Miracle,” Wyatt calls as I push through the doors and past the security men who are still standing silently like gargoyles.
Passing back through the atrium, I spot my Secret Service guy sitting on one of the blue couches reading a book. I suppose I can’t blame him. This entire building is covered inside and out with soldiers and guards so it’s not like he needs to be on his toes.