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off to inform the health authorities. He wasn’t about to tolerate this any further, but he needs some authority to remove us.”
    “These people are in no condition to be moved, Dr. Delaney.”
    “I know but there’s a more important consideration.”
    “And that is?” Tilford’s inexperience in a crisis showed, but he wasn’t coming apart at the seams, which impressed Delaney just as much as his looks.
    “The virus would be out and there’d be no stopping it.”
    The two stared at each other for a long moment. The realization of those consequences was firmly entrenched into the minds of both, but Delaney did have one fleeting thought of a restaurant and a candlelight dinner for two…
    She took a deep breath, snapped herself back to reality and glanced at her watch.
    “I need to go make a phone call.” She headed back to her office; she should have heard back from Calgleef by now.

    * * *
    I n a hotel across the other side of Des Moines, Moya waited nervously in his room. He had given up all his beliefs; gone over the “dark side” and had become a leading proponent for the pharmaceuticals. As a doctor he knew some of the medications they made—mainly the more expensive ones—did more harm in most cases, which usually resulted in a prescription of yet more expensive medications. This meant little in many European and other countries around the world where universal health care or a similar system was in place. In the United States, however, where the system was designed to favor the private hospitals, private health insurers and drug manufacturers, the pickings were plentiful—for the few.
    And that’s why he changed sides halfway through the game. He felt he hadn’t been rewarded for his hard work; getting on side with Thorncroft would change all that. He had become the leading advocate for the development of a vaccine throughout Europe, and when the United States government wanted an expert opinion it was he who was asked. He pushed ahead with the proposal for the use of the drug before the proper test had been carried out. The vaccination of more than half the population of America would be a financial windfall, and as long as the menace of the Baltic flu hung around a bit longer they (Thorn) could probably squeeze in another year of vaccinations, perhaps even two if people were concerned enough about the death toll in Europe.
    He had overheard Thorncroft mention that very thing a few months ago when the first overtures were made by the director of the Centers for Disease Control, Andrew Calgleef. This got Moya to thinking. If a vaccine was to be rushed ahead, it would only be for the markets that hadn’t suffered any cases of Baltic flu, and the only one that was worthy of profit was the US market. It made perfect sense; the more who suffered the more vaccines would be sold and the more likely it would turn out to be annual. Thorncroft knew how to turn a profit; he granted him that.
    When his cell eventually rang he expected Thorncroft to be on the other end.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Ah, good day or evening as it may be. It’s Waddell here, Dr. Moya.” Waddell was one of the head researchers at Thorn labs. “Mr. Thorncroft asked me to call you immediately.”
    Moya had no time for introductions or small talk. “What have you got?”
    “Apparently your assumption was correct. The virus cells are active and they’ve multiplied extensively.”
    Moya knew that when a scientific researcher used the word extensively it meant more than a factor of ten.
    “Okay, thank you, Dr. Waddell, I assume you’ve informed the old man?” Moya’s reference was to Thorncroft and was answered in the affirmative before he asked if there was anything else he should be aware of.
    “Well, further tests have confirmed the virus cells are the cause for the low iron count in the sufferers and not, as first suspected, that those with a low count were merely more susceptible.”
    “And how’s that?”
    “The virus organism