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his alumni ring around his finger, thinking. Unbelievable, why did this have to happen to me now?
    “It has been scr ubbed,” Col. Mathis said. “Secondary teams have reporte d no traces of ‘PT-12’ ,” he said quickly and then gnawed on his lower lip, fidgeting.
    Col. Mathis, twenty-nine, was an ambitious ma n who was moving quickly up the chain. Unlike most soldiers, he came into the service with a doctorate degree already under his belt and, as such, was the perfect candidate for the 161 st . H is military future looked promising, but then ‘ PT-12 ’ came along. What was worse wa s that he knew he would be the one at the end of the pointed finger.
    “Your team blew it, Colonel,” Lieutenant General Yates muttered in hi s gruff smoker’s voice. “The 161 st are supposed to be the e xperts with biological weapons , and yet they knowingly breach quarantine protocols to… leave early?”
    Lt. Gen. Yates, a hardened veteran of the Gulf War, st ared coldly at the young colonel . In h is eyes, the colonel was a boot- licking schoolboy who was too focused on a ss-kissing his way up the f ood chain. He knew the most wartime action the boy saw involved a video game controll er, and yet here this young–
    “ I never gave any clearance for t hem to leave!” Co l . Mathis defensively said, face f lushing. “In fact, the Fort Detrick incident c ommander told me that somebody called and gave the team authorization t o leave without my knowledge or– ”
    Lt. Gen. Yate s ’ face contorted and his chest tightened.
    “First off, I remind you, Colonel , to mind your tone! Secon d, you’re in charge of the 161 st , so nobody should have made a move without your knowledge! When the investigation is over, this will all fall on you! Your mistakes have cost the–”
    “ I went to Fort Detrick to personally oversee this mission! I cannot and will not be held respo nsible for the inept actions of– ”
    “Enough! Enough, damnit,” Gen. Falton said , waving a dismissive hand at both of heated men.
    Col. Mathis and Lt. Gen. Yates glared at each other with their fists clinched at their sid es and their mouths clinched shut.
    “ It’s too early to start pointing fingers, ” Gen. Falton grumbled, knowing full- well that he w as the one who made the call that gave the helicopter cleara nce to take-off. After all, William T. Hart, the Secretary of Defense, was waiting , and you do not keep a man in that position waiting. How the hell was he supposed to know someone on the fl ight was infected ?  No, if anybody was to blame, it was the careless people who did the decontamination procedure , he reasoned.
    “Is there any hope for clean containment?” Gen. Falton asked, looking over at Col. Mathis with fragile expectation.
    “No, sir, the helicopter was en-route to base at Fort Bragg in Fayetteville, North Carolina. It has veered off- course and is now flying over Raleigh , North Carolina, population of five-hundred and nineteen thousand . It is gradually losing altitude and the pilot is presumed to be in fected ,” Col. Mathis said. “ Given the nature of ‘PT-12’, Raleigh is compromised the minute he crashes .”
    “Are we sure it will come to that? ” Gen. Falton asked , sighing.
    “Since he is still capable of flying, he didn ’t get bit, that much we know. If it was a bite transmission he would have succumbed by now. But, given the virus’ airborne qualities, yes, he will inevitably turn and crash.”
    “Why in the hell is he flying towards Raleigh?” Lt. Gen. Yates asked, narrowing his eyes.
    “It’s only a slight deviation from the normal flight path,” Col. Mathis said. “He could be looking for a hospital helipad.”
    “Regardless , at this point we have to assume Raleigh will be compromised. Given that scenario, what is the outlook?” Gen. Falton asked, furrowing his brow. He knew how dangerous ‘PT-12’ was.
    “Not good, sir,” Col. Mathis said. He passed Gen. Falton and Lt. Gen. Yates each a