Blinding Fear by Bruce Roland Read Free Book Online Page B

15 feet. A plain oak conference table sat in the center with a wireless keyboard and TV remote control sitting on it. Numerous small piles of paper along with various pens, pencils and markers were spread about. A dozen comfortably stuffed chairs lined the table and walls. A Samsung 70-inch flat screen monitor filled most of one wall, displaying a spread sheet filled with numbers. Gnash knew the room was “hardened” against any kind of passive or active electronic eves-dropping; and for good reason. Only meetings of the most highly classified status were held in it.
    In the room was another man whom Gnash had immediately ID’d as having Indian descent the first time they’d met. Why he’d gone to work for the NSA was a deep mystery to Gnash. He should have become a doctor or engineer, owned a motel or convenience store. Isn’t that what all upstanding Indian parents expected their children to do? It was also annoying, since he preferred the presence of those with ethnic origins at least somewhat similar to his own.
    Javad looked up briefly from poring over data on various sheets of paper as well as on the screen. “Morning, Gnash.”
    Gnash’s response was as usual perfunctory as he sat down at the head of the table and opened his briefcase. “What’ve we got today?”
    Javad had learned in two days of working with Gnash to ignore the other man’s complete lack of concern for professional and social etiquette as well as just plain good manners. The two had to work together to get a job done, nothing more.
    “An additional 15 exposures.” Javad replied.
    Both men had recognized—as had most who worked in their field—that nonspecific, euphemistic language helped insulate them psychologically from the occasionally brutal nature of their work. It also sometimes allowed for “plausible deniability” when plans went horribly wrong—as they often did.
    “What’s the total since initial discovery and exposure?”
    “364.”
    “What’s the breakdown by nation now?” Gnash asked.
    “Pretty much what we anticipated: 103 in the US, 62 in western Europe, 46 in eastern Europe, 37 in Asia, 25 in Australia, 18 in South Africa; 73 more scattered in various other places. Naturally, a lot of these numbers come to us compliments of our associates and friends in those countries. I can give you an exact country-by-country breakdown if you’d like.”
    Gnash steepled his fingers carefully. “Not necessary,” he said tersely. “Rate of exposure seems to have slowed dramatically, though.”
    “Possibly. Then again there could be any number of technical, environmental, social and financial factors that allowed for the first groups’ exposure. Other factors could come into play that would allow for another surge in exposures.”
    Gnash pulled a sheet from his briefcase, perusing it for a few seconds. “Have my inoculation protocols and procedures been implemented in all cases?”
    “Yes. And as a direct result of some inoculations we’ve been able to glean other potential exposures that we can watch and deal with as necessary.”
    Both men spent another few minutes scrutinizing the data. Javad stopped, then asked. “Have you finalized your emergency procedures in case any inoculation fails?”
    Gnash slowly nodded. “As we’ve been sanctioned, there’s only one possible option: Any inoculation failure will result in immediate sterilization.” He looked at Javad. “Of course, the protocols will vary from case to case.”
    “Of course,” Javad seemingly agreed. “What about the primary host? What’s your planning there? Unless it’s removed as a source of potential contamination, all other efforts to control any generalized, out-of-control outbreak may prove fruitless.”
    “I’m been finalizing those details over the last couple of days. I expect to have loose ends tied up shortly. Suffice it to say the host will be sterilized as well.”

Chapter 5

    Frank Whalen lovingly surveyed his new telescope in the