Page 51 of Outbreak Protocol

"And if we can't?"

I take his hand, intertwining our fingers. "Then we do it ourselves. For Emma. For Anna. For everyone in this city who deserves better than being written off as collateral damage."

In the childcare area, Emma sits alone, carefully colouring a picture. When she sees us, her face lights up, and she runs to Felix, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You came back," she says, and the simple joy in her voice strengthens my resolve.

"Always," Felix promises, lifting her into his arms. "We will always come back for you."

Over Emma's shoulder, his eyes meet mine, communicating everything we can't say aloud. We've become more than colleagues, more than lovers. We've become a family forged in crisis, and somehow, against impossible odds, we will find a way to survive.

As we leave the command centre, I glance back at the military personnel bustling with grim efficiency, preparing for scenarios that include the sacrifice of an entire city. They see numbers, vectors, acceptable losses. They don't see Emma's careful drawings or Felix's gentle hands or the million individual lives hanging in the balance.

I've spent my career thinking in statistics and probabilities. But now, with Emma's small hand in mine and Felix's determined presence beside me, I understand what he's been trying to teach me all along. Behind every number is a person. Behind every data point is a life.

And those lives are worth fighting for, even against impossible odds.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Day 43

FELIX

The morning air feels electric with urgency as I zip up my field jacket. Four search teams already deploy across Hamburg's eastern districts, but Erik and I focus on coordinating from the makeshift command post in the medical centre's parking lot.

"Team Two reports negative in Eimsbüttel," Erik says, marking another red X on our city map. "No unusual avian activity."

I rub my tired eyes. Three days of searching has yielded nothing but false alarms and dead ends. The parrot—our one hope for developing a treatment—remains frustratingly elusive. Meanwhile, the death toll climbs hourly.

"What about the pet shops?" I ask.

"Santos has military units checking every registered exotic pet dealer and bird sanctuary within the containment zone." Erik taps his tablet. "Nothing yet."

Emma sits nearby on a folding chair, colouring in a book Santos provided. We couldn't bear to leave her in the militarychildcare facility—not with whispers of evacuation growing louder each day. She looks up and catches me watching.

"Are you going to find the magic bird today?" she asks.

I squat beside her. "We're certainly trying."

"If I was a parrot, I'd go where there are trees and other birds," she says matter-of-factly. "Like the park where Mama takes me."

Erik and I exchange glances. We've prioritized residential areas and animal facilities, but perhaps we're overlooking the obvious.

"Out of the mouths of babes," Erik murmurs.

Sarah approaches, removing her mask as she enters our clean zone. "The latest samples show even more accelerated mutation. Whatever time we thought we had? Cut it in half."

Before I can respond, Erik's phone buzzes. He answers, his face growing increasingly animated.

"Yes... describe it again... grey with a red tail? Where exactly?"

My pulse quickens as he ends the call. "What is it?"

"Anonymous tip through the civilian hotline. Someone spotted an unusual bird in Planten un Blomen—matches our African Grey description."

"The botanical garden?" I glance at the map. "That's central, easily accessible from Klaus Richter's apartment."

"And full of trees and other birds," Erik adds, nodding at Emma.