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Piper whipped around to face the cop. “I need a black-and-white with sirens, and I need it right now.”

The cop moved over to a wall of car keys and pulled down a set. “It’s parked out back.”

Ian tilted his head back and she jammed about a half-box of tissue into his nose before guiding him toward the rear of the building. She called out to the lone cop in the building, “If you have any food or water you can send with us, that would be great.”

She heard a vending machine disgorge cans and another one whirring as it sent food down to the slot below.

“He gonna be okay?” the cop asked, shoving an armload of soda cans, bags of chips, and candy bars at her.

She answered tersely, “Call the CDC. Tell them the virus is outside the containment area, and we’re headed into Vegas.”

“Shit!” The cop backed away from Ian hastily, eyeing both of them like lepers.

“Get your citizens and yourself into a place that’s sixty degrees or below and stay there for a solid day.

That’ll kill the virus on your clothes and skin.

I’m gonna have the CDC send some medicine up your way that we think will help infected people.

You’ll be fine!” she shouted over her shoulder as she herded Ian toward a cop car.

She guided him into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel. Pulling the car into the street, she blasted the air conditioning for all it was worth, pointing every vent in the vehicle at Ian.

She drove onto the highway, flipped on the light bar and sirens, and floored the powerful engine.

“Easy Piper. I don’t need to die on the road when we’ve made it this far alive.”

“You’re not dying on me, Ian McCloud. Do you hear me? That’s not the virus. The inside of your nose got dried out and that’s a regular old nosebleed. You hear me? I plan to make you marry me and have your children and die of old age together about a hundred years from now.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked humorously. “How’re you planning to make me marry you?”

Never taking her eyes off the road flying past, she bit out, “If the epic sex doesn’t lure you in, I’ll trap you with a pregnancy.”

“That’s not fighting fair.”

“Love and war, big guy. Didn’t you tell me that, once?”

He grinned past the wad of bloody tissues at her. “You think we can beat the virus after it’s gone active?” he asked as the lights of a roadblock loomed ahead.

“Yes, I do. I think the man we apprehended loves his daughter enough to build in a back-door cure.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said grimly.

She did, too. Fervently.

She decelerated the police car as they approached a road block manned by armed soldiers and Humvee’s with machine guns mounted on them. A soldier with a machine gun slung over his shoulder approached her window. “You can’t proceed, ma’am?—“

She cut the guard off. “My partner’s got the virus, and I’m taking him into the quarantine zone so he won’t infect more people.”

The soldier took a fearful step back from her window, and she stepped on the gas. Who was going to stop them from going into the fever zone? It wasn’t like that soldier was going to jump into a Jeep and follow them to drag them back out.

“Just a little further,” she told Ian as his nose commenced seeping blood again.

“You headed for the hospital?” he asked, his voice muffled behind the soaked tissues.

“I figure they’re totally overwhelmed. Thought I’d head for the newest and swankiest casino in town. It’s likely to have the best air conditioners and the biggest security system, hence the biggest back-up generators.”

She headed for the Strip and pulled up in front of a luxurious hotel entrance. A man—a valet or doorman, maybe—yelled at her. “She’s got a bleeder in the car. Get him out of here!”

Ian swore under his breath.

In response, she popped the trunk release and hopped out of the cop car, muttering to him as she went, “Let’s see how well this puppy’s stocked, shall we?”

Ian nodded and climbed out as well. Blood trickled over his chin as she handed him a shotgun and a brace of pistols. For her part, she grabbed an automatic rifle and hefted its nylon strap over her shoulder.

“We’re Feds,” she announced, “and we can cure to the virus. We’re going into your hotel, and we’re giving the cure to you and everyone else inside. If you don’t believe me, I’ll kill you now.”

There was no way this punk was standing between Ian and cold air. None. She’d kill anyone and everyone who tried to get in her way. He was her man, the future father of her children, and no one was messing with her.

“Easy there, G.I.Jane,” Ian said from behind her. “It’s okay, buddy. I ran into a damned door as we were walking out to come over here. And we do have the cure. I’m gonna reach into my pocket nice and slow and pull out my military ID and show it to you. Okay?”

She glared at Ian. What was he doing?

“Keep glaring, baby,” he murmured low. “You’re bad cop. I’m good cop.”

Ahh. His comment broke her fixation on killing anyone who crossed her the wrong way. Right. These were civilians. The very people she and Ian had nearly died trying to save. No sense shooting them all, now. But still. The kid had better not try to stop Ian from getting inside to cold air…

“If you could take us to your head of security, we need to explain the procedure for decontaminating the hotel and everyone in it,” Ian told the kid.

Apparently, the fact that they wanted to see the very person the kid was hoping would show up and save him from these crazies seemed to ease the kid’s fears. “This way.”

The kid led them through the deserted lobby. Its cavernous interior looked garish in the silence and emptiness. “Security’s got everyone quarantined in their rooms,” the kid explained as he led them through the dark and silent casino.

They passed through an unmarked door into a long hall. And then, they passed through another set of doors into an abruptly brightly lit and alive command center. The hotel’s security hub.

Piper noticed that Ian had ditched the bloody tissues along the way and must have rubbed the blood off his face with his sleeve just prior to stepping in here.

“What the hell?” a guy in a suit exclaimed. Several men leaped to their feet, reaching for weapons at the sight of hers and Ian’s.

“Stand down, guys,” she said quickly, lowering her weapon as she spoke. “We’re here to help.”

She and Ian quickly went through who they were and what they’d learned of the virus.

The security man listened in silence and then responded with, “So all I have to do is cram everyone into a ball room, divert all the air conditioning in the building in there for a couple days. Then we have everyone drink water with this colloidal silver in it and wash in the stuff, and we’ll all live? ”

Piper shrugged. “Maybe. The CDC is testing the silver theory as we speak. But I’m pretty sure the air conditioning should decontaminate any surfaces in the hotel.”

“Done!”

“In the meantime, my partner could use a stint in a meat locker if you have one with power.”

“Shit. He exposed?” the guy blurted.

She shrugged. “Something like that. Do you have a working walk-in refrigerator?”

“Yeah. The kitchens are on the main back-up generator.”

“Perfect. If we could get some warm coats and be shown to a frig, we’ll get out of your hair,” Piper said smoothly, taking a cue from Ian’s good cop routine.

He’d said once, a lifetime ago, that she should learn how to use her gender as an asset and not fight against it.

He was right. A little flirting and batting of her eyelashes, and the security guy led them to a fur coat store in the shopping arcade, let them have their pick of two expensive coats, and then led them through the huge kitchens into a walk-in refrigerator.

“Phone’s on the wall. Light switch here. You need anything; let us know.”

Ian piped up. “If someone could bring us bottles of water every few hours, and maybe a porta-potty, we’ll see you in a day or so. And thanks for everything.”

“No. Thank you. If this works, the hotel will owe you big. How do you feel about a free suite for life?”

First, they had to make sure they both lived long enough to take the guy up on his offer. The heavy, insulated door swung shut behind them. She turned to Ian, whose breath hung in the air in great, white puffs.

“Ironic that, after nearly roasting to death, now we get to flirt with freezing to death,” she murmured.

“Let’s just hope this works,” Ian replied. “I’ve got stuff to do and places to go.”

Only time would tell. They found a pile of insulation blankets like trucks used to help keep food cold and made a bed on the floor for themselves. It smelled like raw meat, but she didn’t care. This had to work.

“We can take turns sleeping,” she told Ian. “That way we won’t die of hypothermia in our sleep. You go first. I’m feeling pretty good.”

Which was to say, he was the one possibly dying from the virus.

About four hours had passed when the head security guy personally brought them food and pitcher of water.

He also announced, “The CDC thinks this ionized silver stuff will kill the virus. Turns out the city had a bunch of it in a warehouse…left over from the anthrax scares after 9/11. The plan was to put it in the water supply back then, too, as a mass inoculant against anthrax. They’ve treated the city’s water supply and are directing everyone to drink a gallon of tap water every day. ”

Ian grinned. “If it doesn’t work, at least we’ll all die with our kidneys in perfect working order.”

Piper was humbled by his optimism and positive outlook. Even when things had looked bleakest in the desert, he’d never given up hope. She darned well wasn’t going to give up on him, now.

The security man reported that everyone in the hotel was camping in a ballroom so the cooled air could be concentrated in that one spot, decontaminating the air they all breathed.

It was cramped, and people were cranky, but they were all cooperating fully with the understanding that this was the best way to avoid dying.