Exit 9

28

I.D. MINUS 29 HOURS

The Dop received his regular morning briefing from Foster, the night watch officer, at six a.m. on the dot in his quarters.

“There have been no additional problems with the situation in Buenos Aires. We’ve hired some local freelancers to keep an eye on Patricia Mendes in case she tries to stir up anything.”

The DOP waved a dismissive hand in the air. “We’re too close for anything she might say to matter at this point. You can let her be.”

“Very well, sir.” Foster provided updates for several other minor incidents, including the small outbreak in Mumbai, India. “It appears to be contained with no further infections.”

The DOP sensed hesitation. “What is it?”

“It seems, sir, that the two nurses watching the patients have…left.”

“What do you mean, left?”

“When the next shift came on, they weren’t there. It’s believed they fled.”

“Are they Project members?”

“Yes, sir. Um, some of their cache of vaccine is missing.”

The DOP stared at him. “They stole vaccine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Unbelievable, the DOP thought. “Put their names on a list to be dealt with after everything is over. This kind of lack of loyalty cannot be tolerated.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Has there been any information leak on the outbreak?”

“None.”

“Good.” An outbreak associated with the people working on the “malaria problem” could have caused some serious questions to be raised, and jeopardized their operations not only in Mumbai but other places where they were using the method.

“What’s next?”

“Have not heard back yet from the team at Grise Fiord,” Foster said.

The men at Grise Fiord had reported the arrival of a science group the previous evening, and were going to check them out, but it wasn’t unusual for them to take up to twenty-four hours to learn anything useful.

“All right,” the DOP said, glad that these types of issues were not something he’d have to think about for much longer.

“Our lookout in Savissivik reports that the Danish cultural committee is leaving as scheduled this morning for the south,” Foster said.

Savissivik on the northwestern coast of Greenland and Grise Fiord in Canada were the two closest manned locations to Yanok Island, so it had always been a priority to keep an eye on them.

“Anything else?”

“Yes. There’s a storm heading our way.”

“When?”

Foster smiled. “Just in time for Implementation Day.”

The DOP chuckled. He liked the idea of that.

The briefing finished, Foster headed off to bed while the DOP got dressed. He then went to the cafeteria for a leisurely breakfast before joining Major Ross in the Cradle.

They were approaching twenty-four hours from activation, the moment he’d been working toward for so many years. The anticipation was intoxicating. He wanted to make sure he savored every last second of it.