Page 106 of Deadly Strain

“Don’t touch it!”

Everyone froze.

“Anthrax. Envelopes.” She nodded at a table that stood against the nearest wall. “Put it there.”

The general’s aide walked over, gently set the envelope down, and backed away with his hands in the air.

“Sir,” Grace said to him. “We brought an effective disinfectant with us, wash your hands in it.” She turned to the general. “I recommend you seal off Akbar’s quarters and work area.”

“Contaminated?” Marshall asked.

“I won’t know until I can test for anthrax, but it’s better to be safe rather than sorry.”

Marshall ordered a man to bring some of the disinfectant from the helicopter.

“What would it look like?” Sharp asked. “If there was anthrax planted there.”

“That’s the problem,” Grace said to everyone. “The spores are so small, you’d think it was a little bit of dust.” She sounded as worried as he felt. Dust? How were they supposed to fight that? With vacuum cleaners?

“General Stone,” Sharp said. “This attack could be aimed against you or whichever high-ranking officer it would require to clean up this messy situation. Respectfully recommend you leave the base.”

“Or the people behind this attack could be waiting for me to leave,” he said. “It would be relatively easy to take me out in a helicopter.”

“Not if one left before yours as a decoy.”

The general grunted and considered the floor for a moment. “Major, could this anthrax be produced anywhere?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Some mobile labs are fully equipped for anthrax. Max is working in a portable isolation chamber in a cave at this moment. And, if you’re not too concerned with safety, all you really need is power and privacy.”

“Afghanistan is riddled with caves.”

“For a lab to be operating for any length of time, they would need to bring in fuel for generators.”

“And other supplies, as well.” Stone nodded and turned to Marshall. “Have your people review satellite pictures of the region from the past month. Look for fuel and other supplies going into the mountains, or vehicles leaving full and returning empty.”

“Yes, sir.” Marshall turned and nodded at a man, who ran off to carry out the orders.

“I’ve got a bio-suit, but I’ll need a Sandwich,” Grace told the general.

“I can have one here in three hours,” Stone said. “Colonel Maximillian organized resupply for this eventuality.”

“Excellent.”

“Until it gets here,” the general said, pointing a finger at her, “you are to report to the base hospital. You will follow any recommendations the ranking doctor might make. Understood?”

“But, sir, Akbar’s quarters?”

“There are people on base who can take care of that. Hospital. Now.”

Grace looked like she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Yes, sir.” She turned her sour expression on Sharp, but all he did was smile back. She needed care, and he was willing to play dirty to make sure she got it.

Grace saluted the general and left to follow his orders, he hoped.

“You.” The general looked at him with a scowl on his face. “You’ve made yourself responsible for the major?”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but he answered it anyway. “Yes, sir.”

“Commander Cutter was your CO and now he’s dead.” The general shook his head. “What a goddamn mess.” He looked at Smoke, March, Clark, Runnel, and Hernandez. “Is this all that’s left of your team?”