Free Ebola K: A Terrorism Thriller: Book 2 by Bobby Adair

mistakes. He picked up one of his telephones and dialed.
    When the ringing stopped, Najid heard faint breathing on the other end. “You have not met my emissary,” he said.
    Firas Hakimi spat, “You know not what I have or have not done.”
    “My friend—”
    “Be careful with your pleasantries, Almasi. They are less true than you know.”
    “My friend,” Najid persisted, “if you had spoken with my emissary, we would now be talking face to face, and you would understand and approve my course of action.”
    “Do not presume—”
    “No,” Najid told Hakimi harshly. “Stop with this pettiness. You have sycophants to grovel at your feet. Do not demand such behavior from me. I’m no pet goat of yours. My father has died. His fortune has passed to me. I will use it to pursue our common goals. Will you meet with me to discuss this as men?”
    Hakimi’s flaring temper was obvious through his sharp breaths. That was good. Hakimi needed to be goaded into action, and Najid needed Hakimi’s temper for leverage.
    “Search for your emissary’s name this afternoon on the Internet.” Hakimi paused dramatically. “You will find something of interest.”
    The line went dead.

Chapter 20
    Paul’s phone rang. He saw Olivia’s name on the screen and looked at the other four people seated around the conference room table. He told them, “I’ve got to get this.” He rolled his chair away from the table and stood up. “Just go on without me. I’ve got everything I need.” Paul left the conference room and closed the door behind him, glad to be out of another pointless meeting. He answered the phone, “Olivia?”
    “Hey, Dad. Am I interrupting anything?”
    “Just a meeting. Nothing important.” Paul looked at his watch. It was nine-thirty a.m. where Paul was, so it was eleven-thirty in Atlanta. “Are you on your lunch break?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You sound worried.”
    Olivia said, “I’ve barely said anything.”
    “I’ve been your dad for a while now, and I pay attention. What’s up? Did you find something out about Austin?”
    “No, nothing, but I’m working on it.”
    “How does it feel to be back in the office?”
    “Better than not, but I’m kind of in limbo. My project was taken over by—” Olivia, of course, couldn’t say by whom, but she knew her father would guess. He knew what she did and for whom she worked. “Well, I’m between projects at the moment.”
    “Hmm.”
    “Did you see the news this morning?”
    Paul replied, “I’ve been in back-to-back meetings since seven. Give me the summary.”
    “A guy collapsed at the airport in Dallas yesterday. He was taken to the hospital. They’re testing for Ebola.”
    “I know Heidi probably called you and told you not to talk to me about Ebola stuff anymore, right?”
    “Of course she did,” answered Olivia.
    “Yet here we are.” Paul hadn’t heard about the case in Dallas, and he was curious why his daughter would call about a single case he was sure to see on the news later in the day. “What’s different about this guy?”
    “Maybe nothing. I haven’t found anything specifically on him yet, but—” Olivia took a long slow breath as she decided whether or not to take the final step in an action that could get her fired and might piss off Heidi. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
    “If you can’t say,” said Paul, “then don’t.”
    “I spoke with Mathew Wheeler yesterday morning.”
    “Mathew Wheeler?”
    “Dr. Wheeler,” Olivia explained.
    “Oh, the CDC doctor you met.”
    “Yes.” Olivia gulped down the last of her reservations. “Yesterday when I talked to him, the CDC was waiting on some Ebola samples out of Uganda. They arrived, and the CDC worked on them all night. Dr. Wheeler just called me with the results.”
    “And?” Paul asked, into Olivia’s pause.
    “It’s a new strain.”
    “What does that mean in practical terms?”
    “I don’t know anything for sure,” said Olivia. “I’ve been reading