Patient Zero

Chapter Ninety-Eight

El Mujahid

“HOW DO I look?” the Fighter asked.

Ahmed turned in his seat and smiled broadly. “Perfect! Amirah herself would not recognize you!”

El Mujahid leaned over and looked at himself one last time in the Explorer’s rearview mirror. With blue contact lenses, an expert hair dye that gave him wavy red hair, skillfully crafted latex appliances, and makeup that gave him pale skin and a scattering of freckles the Fighter looked like a rawboned young Irishman. Saleem had even used special tape to change the shape and angle of El Mujahid’s nose, giving it a snubbed and uptilted look. Padding in his gums gave him more prominent cheekbones. Even he could not see the man he was beneath the makeup.

“The boy is a wizard,” the Fighter agreed.

“Now there’s one last thing to do before we go,” said Ahmed as he took a small case from the glove compartment, unzipped it and removed a prefilled syringe. The liquid was a luminous green-gold that sparkled in the sunlight. “Roll up your sleeve.”

El Mujahid did so and held out his arm. He didn’t even wince when Ahmed plunged the needle into his flesh and injected the entire contents into him.

“Amirah said that the antidote will be at its strongest in forty minutes,” Ahmed said, “and advises that you release the plague at that point. She said that you should be completely protected, but also said that once you activate the device you should get away as quickly as possible.” He drew a breath. “Besides, things will be getting very violent very quickly.”

El Mujahid looked at his wristwatch. “Then we had better move.”

Ahmed nodded and removed a second syringe from the case and injected himself. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with toucans on it and gave himself the shot high on his shoulder where it wouldn’t be seen. He put the syringe case back in the glove compartment. He hung a lanyard around his neck to which was clipped a plastic ID holder. It read: PRESS.

“You have only two doses?” the Fighter asked. “What about your woman, Andrea?”

“She’s a woman.” Ahmed spread his hands in a man-of-the-world gesture. “We all make sacrifices.”

El Mujahid nodded. He had made his own sacrifices to the cause where women were concerned.

“There is no God but Allah,” Ahmed whispered.

“And Mohammad is His prophet,” agreed El Mujahid.

Ahmed put the car in gear and drove off.