He leaned back in his seat. “And that’s just the beginning.” A few minutes later they felt the plane lift off. Ninety minutes until they reached their destination.
“What have you done about containment plans?”
He nodded at her question. “I’ve identified a suitable building for a Type-C containment. Arrangements are currently being made to prepare it. In the meantime we’ve instructed Chicago General to switch their air-conditioning off. We don’t want to risk the spread of the droplets. They don’t even have suitable masks right now—only the paper ones, which are practically useless.”
He shook his head. “Those spots were starting to erupt. These kids are at the most infectious stage of this disease.”
Callie shuddered. A potentially deadly disease in an E.R. department. Her mind boggled.
It didn’t matter that she was a completely rational person. It didn’t matter that she specialized in infectious diseases. There was still that tiny human part in her that wanted to panic.
That wanted to run in the other direction.
The strange thing was that there were colleagues at the DPA who would kill to be in her shoes right now. Her very tight, uncomfortable shoes. Why hadn’t she changed them before they’d left? Who knew how long she would be on her feet?
She hesitated. “Who are you relaying the instructions to right now?”
His eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. He didn’t look so good. “The chief of staff at Chicago General is Max Simpson. He’s following our instructions to the letter. Or rather Matt Sawyer is following our instructions to the letter. He’s the only one with any experience down there.”
There were small beads of sweat on his brow. He reached into his top pocket and pulled out some antacids.
“You okay?”
He nodded as he opened the packet and popped three in his mouth.
Callum was the calmest, most knowledgeable doctor she’d ever worked with. She’d worked side by side with him through lots of outbreaks. She couldn’t ask for a better mentor. But even he looked a little scared. Maybe it wasn’t just her after all?
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
She lowered her voice. “He was your protégé, wasn’t he?”
“My what?”
“Matt Sawyer. I heard he was your protégé.”
Callum grimaced and shook his head. “Do me a favor. Don’t let Sawyer hear you call him that. That would tip him over the edge that I presume he’s currently dangling on.”
“What do you mean?” During all the frantic preparations Callie hadn’t had any time to find out more about Matt Sawyer. Only a few whispers and hurried conversations here and there.
This was her first real mission. She’d been out as a danger detective before—when she’d been completing her specialist residency training. But this was her first real chance to prove herself. To prove that she was a worthy member of the team. To prove to them—and herself—that she deserved to be there.
It didn’t sound promising if the doctor who’d made the initial call was unstable.
She looked at the pile of papers on Callum’s lap. The outbreak plans, the containment plans, the paperwork to use for contact tracing, the algorithms. A plan for everything. A piece of paper for every eventuality. Just the way she liked it. Just the way she’d learned to function best.
Rules and regulations were her backbone. The thing that kept her focused. The thing that kept everyone safe.
Callum followed her gaze. “This could get messy.”
“What do you mean? With the disease? The casualties?” She hadn’t even stopped to think about that yet. She still had her public health head on, the one that looked at the big picture. She hadn’t even started to consider the individuals.
Callum looked kind of sad. “No.” He gave a little grimace again. “With Sawyer.”
“Sawyer? Aren’t you happy to see him again?” She was confused. Hadn’t they been friends?
“Under any other set of circumstances I would be. But not here. Not like this. This will be his worst nightmare. Sawyer walked away from all this. The last thing he wants to do is be involved in another outbreak. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling.”
“He’s a doctor. He has responsibilities. He has a job to do.” She made it all sound so straightforward. Because in her head that was the way it should be.
He sighed. “Things change, Callie. Life gets in the way. Sawyer doesn’t live by anybody’s rules but his own. He didn’t even follow protocol today. He should have notified the state department first but he didn’t. He just called the DPA. He called you.” He emphasized the word as he placed a hand on his chest.
She’d missed that. Miss Rules and Regulations had missed that. In her shock at the nature of the call it hadn’t even occurred to her that Sawyer should have contacted the state department first and they should have contacted the DPA.
How could she have missed that?
She didn’t need anyone to remind her that things could change—that life, or lack of it—could get in the way. She was living proof of that.
Seeds of doubt started to creep into her mind. She’d missed the first rule of notification. And if she’d missed that, what else would she miss? Should she even be on this team?
Rules were there for a reason. Rules were there to be followed. Rules were there for everyone’s safety.
Then it really hit her. What was happening before her very eyes.
The last thing she needed to do right now was look at the wider picture. She needed to concentrate on the picture right before her.
Callum was turning gray, with the slightest blue tinge around his lips. His skin was waxy and he was still sweating. His hand remained firmly on his chest.
“Callum? Are you okay?” She unfastened her seat belt and stood up, signaling to some of the other members of the team. “That’s not heartburn, is it?”
He shook his head as she started barking out orders to the rest of the team. “Get me some oxygen. Find out how soon till we get there. Can we get an earlier landing slot? Speak to the pilot—it’s a medical emergency.”
They literally had every piece of equipment known to man on this plane. Unfortunately, most of it was in the hold. And none of it was to treat a myocardial infarction.
She cracked open their first-aid kit, monitoring his blood pressure and giving him some aspirin. She pasted a smile on her face. “Things will be fine, Callum. We’ll get you picked up at the airport and taken to the nearest cardiac unit.”
His hand gripped her wrist. “I’m sorry, Callie. I shouldn’t be leaving you to deal with this. Not with Sawyer. You two are like oil and water. You won’t mix. Not at all.” His head was shaking.
Callie’s stomach was churning. The thought of facing the legendary Sawyer herself was not filling her with confidence. But right now she would do or say anything that would relieve the pressure on Callum. Anything at all.
/> “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. Don’t worry about a thing, Callum. I can handle Sawyer.”
Famous last words.
CHAPTER TWO
“WHO ARE YOU and where is Callum Ferguson?” Not waiting for an answer, the man with the shaggy hair pushed past her and looked behind her. With his broad frame and pale green eyes, on another occasion she might have looked twice. But she didn’t have time for this.
Great. The welcoming party. And he was obviously delighted to see her.
She struggled to set the box down on the reception desk. There was only one person this could be. And she intended to start the way she meant to continue. This was business.
“Here are the N95 masks. Make sure anyone that goes into the room with those kids wears one. And make sure it’s fitted properly, otherwise it will be useless.”
He hadn’t moved. He was still standing directly in her path. “I asked you a question.”
She almost hesitated but that would do her no good. She needed to establish who was in charge here. And it was her.
“Matt Sawyer? I’m Callie Turner and I’m leading the team.” She turned towards the door as the rest of the team fanned in behind her, carrying their equipment.
It was like an invasion. And the irony of that wasn’t lost on her.
She tilted her head. “I’d shake your hand but you’re already an infection control hazard, so forgive me.”
Did she look confident? She certainly hoped so, because her stomach was churning so much that any minute now she might just throw up all over his Converses.
She walked around behind the desk and started pulling things out of the boxes being deposited next to her. “Lewis, Cheryl, set up here and here.” She pointed to some nearby desks.
“I’m only going to ask you one more time. Where is Callum Ferguson?”
He was practically growling at her now. And that hair of his was going to annoy her. Why didn’t he get a decent haircut? Wouldn’t long hair be an infection control hazard? Maybe she should suggest he find an elastic band and tie it back, though on second thoughts it wasn’t quite long enough for that.