“You’ll be the first,” Swain lied. “I’ll call you next week and let you know what’s going on, good or bad.” He would call, but Micah probably wouldn’t be the first.
“Even at three fucking am,” Micah groused.
“You got it Thanks, pal.”
Swain disconnected, then dropped the phone in his pocket. Damn. Okay, so this scheme Lily’s caller had told her about was not only feasible, but a real problem. Swain tried to think of alternate means of handling it. He couldn’t call Langley because Frank was out of commission, there was a fucking mole in place who was feeding information to Rodrigo Nervi, and he had no idea whom he could trust If Frank was there… well, one phone call and the whole damn laboratory complex would be toast tomorrow morning, but Frank wasn’t there, so Swain had to turn it into toast himself. Somehow.
He could have given Micah the particulars, but what could the CDC do? Nothing more than alert the World Health Organization. Even if the WHO had the place raided without someone in the local police structure tipping off Nervi first, yeah, they’d find the virus, but the Nervi lab was working on a vaccine for the virus, so of course the virus would have to be there for testing, et cetera. It was a neat scheme, logically explaining away the smoking gun. He had to admire it.
He made it back to the apartment building, and this time Lily was there, carrying two carpet bags and with a familiar-looking tote hanging on her shoulder. He grinned as he looked fondly at the tote bag. Without it, he might never have found her.
He got out to stow the bags for her. They were on the heavy side, and he noticed she was a little breathless, which reminded him she’d said the poison had done some damage to a heart valve. He tended not to remember that, because she was such a capable person, but the fact was that only about two weeks had passed since she’d killed Salvatore Nervi and almost died herself. Even if the damage to her heart was minimal, there was no way she could have fully recovered her strength in such a short length of time.
He studied her as he opened the car door for her. Her lips weren’t blue, and her unpainted fingernails were pink. She was getting enough oxygen. She’d been rushing around, up and down three flights of stairs, so of course she was breathless. He would be, too. Relieved, he stopped her as she was about to get into the car. She looked up with a questioning expression, and he kissed her.
Her mouth was soft, and she leaned into him with such easy acceptance that his heartbeat kicked into a gallop. The street was no place for how he wanted to kiss her, however, so he contented himself with that brief taste. She smiled, one of those completely feminine smiles that left a man feeling drunk and confused and happy all at the same time, then slid into the seat and pulled the car door shut.
“Shit,” he said as he got in the driver’s seat. “I’m probably gonna have to dump this car.”
“Because I could have been seen getting into it?”
“Yeah. Though we probably look like a couple going away on vacation, it’s better not to take the chance. Now what will I get?”
“Maybe something a little less noticeable, like a red Lamborghini?” That wasn’t fair, since the Megane Renault wasn’t in any way in the same class with a Lamborghini, but it was still a noticeable car.
He chuckled at the dig. “So I like good cars. Sue me.”
“Did you get in touch with your friend in the States?”
“Yeah, but he was bitchy about the time difference. The bad news is, not only is this virus thing feasible, it’s the CDC’s worst nightmare.”
“What’s the good news?”
“There isn’t any. Except Nervi isn’t going to release the virus until the vaccine is available, because of course he wants to be the first one innoculated, right? And it takes months to develop a vaccine. Since your friends did some damage to the program in August and presumably the mad doctor had to start over, I think we’re safe in thinking they aren’t going to release the virus during this flu season. They’ll wait until next year.”
She blew out a relieved breath. “That makes sense to me.” She hesitated. “I’ve been thinking. I didn’t know about the virus before, but now… This isn’t something we have to do alone. Even though I’m not in good standing with the CIA right now, I could still use a pay phone and call my former contact there, let him know what’s going on. They could handle something on this magnitude much better than just the two of us can.”
Swain almost jumped out of his skin. “For God’s sake, don’t do that!” Her reasoning was sound, but she didn’t know about the mole and he couldn’t tell her without blowing the whistle on himself.
“Why not?” Her tone was more curious than anything else, but he could feel that pale blue gaze boring into him like lasers. She could cut steel with that look.
He didn’t have a good reason on the tip of his tongue, and for a split second he thought the whole thing was going to blow up in his face, but then he had a flash of genius. He could pretty much tell her everything essential, without giving anything away. It was all in how he phrased it. “You know Nervi has contacts and influence there.”
“He’s an asset, an informer, but-”
“But he’s also a very wealthy man. What are the odds someone there is on his payroll?” It was a simple explanation, and a true one. He was just leaving out a few details.
She turned back in her seat and scowled. “It’s good odds. Salvatore was thorough, and Rodrigo is even more so. So we don’t dare go to anyone, do we?”