Page 30 of Outbreak Protocol

He looks directly at me, his gaze unwavering.

"History is filled with leaders who had to make terrible choices.

Truman. Churchill. They sacrificed cities to save civilizations.

They understood that in a total war, you cannot save everyone.

You save who you can. Today, my duty is to save everyoneoutsideof Hamburg. "

"The final containment protocols are a tragedy, Dr. Lindqvist. But allowing this pathogen to burn across the planet would be an extinction event. I have made my choice. The evacuation proceeds as scheduled. Morrison out."

The screen goes black.

Santos watches me silently as I stand there, hands pressed flat against the table, calculating our next moves.

"He's made his decision," she says finally.

"So it seems." I straighten up. "I need to make some calls."

Back in my makeshift office, I begin contacting everyone I know with political influence.

Dr. Karlsson, again. Then Dr. Okafor at the Nigerian CDC, who has connections at the WHO.

Dr. Song, who knows several members of the European Parliament.

Each conversation follows the same pattern—initial hope followed by the grim reality that the military has effectively taken control of the response.

I'm about to call Dr. Brennan at the CDC in Atlanta when I remember someone else—Marie Lapointe, now head of Health Canada, who worked with me at the ECDC years ago before returning to Canada. She had mentioned connections with several European commissioners during our last conference in Geneva .

She answers on the third ring. "Erik? This is unexpected."

"Marie, I need your help." I quickly outline our situation—the treatment, the promising results, Morrison's deadline.

"Erik, you're asking me to intervene in a NATO military operation based on preliminary results from eleven patients?"

"I'm asking you to help prevent a humanitarian catastrophe. The virus can be treated. We just need more time."

She's silent for several seconds. "Let me see what I can do. I know Commissioner Voss from several G7 summits. He might be able to exert some pressure."

"Thank you, Marie."

"Don't thank me yet. And Erik? Be prepared for this not to work. The military doesn't change course easily once committed."

After hanging up, I check on our test patients again. All showing improvement to varying degrees. Two are already off supplemental oxygen entirely. It's working—not miraculously fast, but consistently. If we had just one more week...

I make three more calls over the next hour, each leading to the same brick wall. The military has convinced the political leadership that immediate containment is the only viable option. Science and evidence have been subordinated to fear.

When I return to Felix's room, Dr. Nguyen is adjusting his ventilator settings.

"We've reduced his sedation," she informs me. "He's triggering the ventilator on his own about 70% of the time now."

"Excellent." I study the monitors. "Inflammatory markers?"

"Down another 15%."

Emma watches us from her chair. "Is that good?"

"Very good," I assure her. "Felix is fighting hard."

"When can we take him home?"

The question catches me off-guard. In the midst of everything, I haven't fully processed what the evacuation would mean. Felix certainly wouldn't be stable enough for transport within 24 hours. And as for "home"—Hamburg would be gone .

"We'll have to go somewhere else for a while," I say carefully. "But Felix will come with us."

She nods, accepting this at face value, and returns to her book.

I step into the hallway to check my messages. Nothing from Marie or any of my other contacts. Just eighteen hours remaining until Morrison's deadline.

Sarah approaches with her tablet. "Erik, you need to see this."

The data shows our treated patients' viral loads continuing to decrease, with no signs of the virus developing resistance to the parrot-derived antibodies. Even better, preliminary tests suggest the treatment might provide short-term prophylactic protection if administered before infection.

"This could change everything," Sarah says. "If we can protect healthcare workers and essential personnel, we can maintain infrastructure while treating the infected."

"Morrison won't care unless we can demonstrate widespread containment within—" I check my watch "—seventeen hours and forty-three minutes."

"What if we could?"

I look at her sharply. "What are you suggesting?"

"Not city-wide, obviously. But what if we could create a contained demonstration area? A neighbourhood, perhaps, where we treat everyone and show zero new infections after treatment?"

It's bold, possibly reckless, but potentially our only option. "How much treatment can we produce in the next twelve hours?"

"Enough for perhaps two hundred people."

"Find me a contained area with fewer than two hundred residents. Preferably somewhere already under quarantine with a known infection rate."

Sarah nods. "I'll work with Aleksandr and Colonel Santos to identify options. "

As she hurries away, my phone vibrates. Marie.

"Erik, I've spoken with Commissioner Voss. He's agreed to review your data and speak with General Morrison."

"When?"

"Within the next six hours. Send me everything you have—all treatment results, projections, the works. And Erik? Make it compelling. You'll get one chance at this."

I end the call and immediately begin compiling our data. One chance. One commissioner. Against the full weight of NATO's military apparatus.

The odds are almost impossibly long. But if there's anything I've learned from Felix, it's that behind every statistic is a human life worth fighting for.

I look through the window at Felix, still unconscious but breathing more on his own with each passing hour. At Emma, reading quietly by his side.

Some battles must be fought regardless of the odds.