Jakarta Pandemic, The (16 page)

“I guess I still don’t understand, especially given your military background. You’re saying that the direction was clear, but you chose to disregard the policy anyway? To disobey a direct order?”

Sounds like you understand it pretty well.

Alex detected a shift in her tone. Although her corporate central processor gave her away after a few seconds of talking, her use of a condescending rhetorical question completely stripped away the camouflage. He expected the phone call to deteriorate from this point forward, not that it really started on anything he would consider a high point.

“Yes, I think that sums it up,’ he said, suppressing a desire to engage her sarcastically.

“Well, Alex, I’m having a tough time with this one. My first instinct is to let you go immediately, but the company is committed to maximizing the effectiveness and impact of the PRP. So—”

“PRP? I’m not familiar with the term.”

“Pandemic Redeployment Program,” she clarified.

“Got it. Moving us to Massachusetts.”

“Right. As I was saying, because of Biosphere’s commitment to this program, I don’t think this would be a good time to weaken our sales force by lowering the head count,” she said.

“You mean like firing me?” he asked.

Right between the eyes, please.

“Well, yes. Under any other circumstances, I would initiate separation procedures, but Ted said that you seemed to fully support the PRP initiative, which surprised him since you routinely undermine his authority.”

What authority?

“He thought I was on board because I didn’t say much about it during this morning’s teleconference. Everyone else beat me to it. Anyway, I feel really bad about dragging this out, so let me make this easy for everyone. I have no intention of abandoning my family during the pandemic and relocating to Massachusetts, even temporarily. I don’t really plan to leave my house until this whole thing has cleared up. So, would it be easier for the company if I just resigned?”

The line remained silent for a few seconds.

“Is that what you want to do?” she asked.

“Yes, I would like to resign my position. Right now. It doesn’t make any sense to continue this relationship. Do I need to send a letter to anyone? Or do anything officially?”

“No. I will initiate resignation procedures, and we should have you closed out in a few days. Ted will contact you with the details and a close out checklist,” she stated.

“At least the inventory should go smoothly,” Alex added, unable to resist.

“This might not be such a laughing matter to you after legal takes a closer look at your actions. I’ve already brought the matter to their attention, and between you and me, I don’t plan to let this slip away,” she warned.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. A legitimate sample transaction to a licensed physician. Head of the Infectious Disease Department, no less. I’m not worried. Thanks for taking this personally though,” he said, feeling the blood rise to his face.

“We’ll just let the lawyers figure that out. I’m sure they’ll find something, and we’ll be sure to help them along.”

Michelle’s parting comment broke down his remaining sarcasm barrier.

“Well, you’d better tell them not to drag out their investigation. I’d be willing to bet that in a few weeks, most of them will either be dead or hooked up to a ventilator somewhere in the greater New York metro area, if they’re lucky. Good luck avoiding the flu.”

He disconnected the call, initially satisfied with his retort. His satisfaction quickly dissolved into a bittersweet disappointment with himself for having descended low enough to invoke such a ghastly image and wish. Alex rose from the chair and stepped into the mudroom. He opened the door to the garage and stepped out onto the cement floor next to the 4Runner.

The bay door behind the 4Runner was open, and he walked out onto the driveway and squinted, immediately hit with blinding rays of sunlight. He brought his left arm up to his face, blocking the bright light. He saw that the orange mail flag was down and started walking down the driveway to the mailbox, just as Ed Walker’s Honda Pilot pulled around the corner of the block, headed his way.

The closest garage bay door on Ed’s house started to rumble open, and he stopped. Ed’s car pulled up into the driveway, but stopped short of entering the garage bay. He waved as Ed opened the car door. All three of his kids started spilling out of the back door, running for the house. The oldest daughter, Chloe, yelled out a greeting.

“Hey, Ed. Home early today. Very nice,” Alex said.

“Yeah, Samantha called me earlier, said she was running late at the firm, so I figured I’d close up shop early and grab some Chinese on the way to pick up the kids.”

He walked over to Alex and they shook hands. Alex moved next to Ed, so they could both talk without the sun blazing in their eyes.

“What about you guys? Abby said that Emily wasn’t in school, and Chloe didn’t see Ryan,” Ed commented.

“We’ve decided to keep the kids out of school until we’re sure what’s going on with the flu. Based on what we’re seeing, I imagine they’re going to close the schools at some point this week. But they’ll wait till the flu is already in the schools before making that call.”

Alex saw from Ed’s expression that he was seriously contemplating what he had just said.

“I wonder if I could shift to working from my home office and keep the kids home. I’d hate to take any chances with them at school. But…I don’t know if I could pull that off. I still have to meet with clients…or I could reschedule for later…I don’t know. Do you really think the schools are going to close? DHS officials sound pretty confident that this won’t get out of control,” he said.

“I wouldn’t count on it. Based on several unbiased projections from other organizations, the number of cases in the U.S. will exceed 2008’s total by the middle of next week. We’re really concerned,” Alex said.

“I’ll have to talk to Sam about it. I know she can’t work from home.”

“Well, if I were you guys—” Alex started.

“Sounds like one of your famous plots brewing,” Ed interrupted jokingly.

“Oh, it’s more than a plot. Anyway, if I were you, here’s what I would do. I would get your home office gig rolling and keep the kids home. Then, I would have your wife call in sick with flu-like symptoms. You can wait a few days for this, just make sure Sam is really careful out there, avoiding public places, washing hands a lot, watching everyone around her. By the time she calls in sick, there’ll be enough cases out there that no one will question her not going into the office.”

“It’s not a matter of being questioned. She can take the next month off if she wants. She still has to meet her billable hours by the end of the year, or she loses money and looks bad as a partner.”

“I know. Kate has the same issue. In a few weeks, this flu is going to jam things up pretty good, and nobody’s going to be worried about billable hours, year-end bonuses, or client meetings. The next few weeks will be critical. Hey, if we’re wrong, then everything goes back to normal.”

“What’s Kate doing?”

“She called in sick, but told them she would work as much as she could from home. She can access most of her work from our office, so her firm shouldn’t care.”

“What about you? How long can you hide out? Didn’t you say they track all of your transactions with that computer thing?” Ed asked.

“They can. However…it won’t matter since I resigned a few minutes ago. Things were getting crazy with them. They wanted me to drive down to Lawrence tomorrow to boost the sales force there. I checked online this afternoon and the Lawrence/Andover area has been hit by a sizable outbreak of the Jakarta flu. Upwards of a thousand confirmed cases in northeast Massachusetts, probably more. Lawrence General, Lowell General, and a few other bigger hospitals are taking most of the cases. Biosphere is sending nearly all of the Maine reps down there, probably New Hampshire and Vermont reps, too. Indefinitely. I told them to go pack sand.”

“Sorry, man,” Ed said.

“Actually, I feel kinda relieved. Biosphere was nothing like my last company. Things were dicey from the beginning. I have some good contacts at other companies for when this flu thing dies down.”

“So, I assume you guys are all set over there,” he said, nodding with a gesture toward Alex’s house.

“I think so. The kids are gonna be the biggest challenge, and possibly some of the neighbors,” Alex replied, looking around at the houses on their side of the loop. “Who knows how this’ll go down? What about you guys? You’re all set, right?”

“I think so. We have a decent amount of food stored up in the basement. Sam and I stocked up on canned food for a couple months after you guys scared the shit out of us with the swine flu, but that pretty much fizzled out. I’m not sure how long all of our stuff will last, but I think we have the basics covered. Our stove is propane and I have plenty of wood for the fireplace.”

“You should move that into your garage or basement. How much do you guys have?”

“I had a half a cord left from last year, and I just had them deliver another cord in September, which we probably don’t need. We just never seem to get around to making a fire. Damn, I really don’t want to move the wood into the garage. That’ll be a massive pain in the ass.”

“I know. I still have another cord or so to go. Pain in the balls for sure. Still, I wouldn’t leave it outside. Not if this thing takes a turn for the worse,” Alex cautioned.

“You’re probably right,” Ed said.

“Every once in a while I’m right.”

“Not according to Kate. Anyway, we should be good. We grabbed plenty of groceries for the next couple of weeks. We should be fine.”

Alex looked at Ed. “If you guys need anything, let me know. Seriously. Food, medical supplies, whatever. I don’t think we’re gonna have the luxury of running out to the stores for very long.”

“Thanks, Alex. It definitely makes me feel more secure about this whole thing. I just hope it all blows over.”

“You and me both,” Alex replied.

“Hey, I gotta get these kids settled in the house.”

“Have a good one, Ed.”

“You too.”

Alex walked up to the mailbox and opened the door, pulling out a handful of assorted mail: two magazines, bills, maybe a birthday invitation for one of the kids, advertisements. He looked at the mail and wondered exactly who, beyond their postal carrier, had touched these items. Mail from several different parts of the country, each piece touched by at least a half dozen different people. Finally, the postal carrier, who handled every piece of mail in the Fletchers’ mailbox, opened the mailbox door, and lowered the orange delivery flag. Dozens of points of contact. All of this now transferred onto Alex’s hands, as he closed the door and walked back to the house with the mail.

He decided that from this point forward, they’d wear gloves when they collected the mail and then sort it in the garage, leaving it there for a few more days to make sure it was safe.

We’ll get that going tomorrow.

He walked into the house, straining not to touch his face, which for some reason was nearly impossible to resist.

Like the urge to throw your keys over the side of a bridge. Ridiculous.

He washed his hands thoroughly in the mudroom and then laughed quietly to himself. “Now I’m going to open the contaminated mail,” he whispered.

This is going to drive me crazy.

Then he thought about the doorknobs, garage door button, and faucet handles, that in theory, he just contaminated on his way in
.

In addition to the bench in the mudroom where the mail is sitting.

He grabbed the mail and walked into the kitchen to see what Kate was preparing for dinner.

**

Alex picked up the phone in his office and started dialing his brother’s cell phone.

He did the math in his head.
Mountain Time, so it’s 7:01
.
He’s probably still driving home from Denver.
He stopped dialing and hung up the phone. He dreaded calling Daniel.
All right, here we go.
He dialed the number.

“Alex! How’s it going out there in Maine,” his brother yelled into the phone.

“Excellent, aside from all of this pandemic nonsense.”

“Yeah, it’s been crazy all around the country. Karla picked up some pizza on the way home from work. Maurizio’s had a three hour estimated delivery time. Can you friggin’ believe that?”

“I can. I saw—”

“Your business must be booming! Anti-virals. Merck stock should be through the roof,” he interrupted.

You mean Biosphere stock.

“You know, I haven’t even checked,” Alex said.

“You’ll probably be able to retire early with all of those stock options. Hell, I’m thinking about taking those TerraFlu samples you gave us and selling them on Ebay. Make a fortune.”

“That may not be such a good idea. You could be trying to buy those back in a few weeks, for a much higher price,” Alex said.

“You don’t really think this thing is going to be a big deal?”

Here he goes.

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling.”

“I know, I know. Mom called me earlier today, and they’re thinking about a trip out East to see Ryan and Emily. Frankly, I think you guys are scaring the hell out of Mom and Dad for no reason, and you need to ease off the drama. They can plan a trip out to see you guys in a month or two.”

“It’ll probably be too late by then,” Alex said flatly.

“Like with the swine flu last year? What a bust, man. Christ! When did you guys become so paranoid? Mom thinks you came back from the war all paranoid. I told her you were always a sweat about things.”

“Thanks for the Dr. Phil moment.”

“Just telling it like it is,” Daniel said.

“As always. Anyway, we’re just taking precautions here. It’s all pretty reasonable given the world situation.”

“I don’t know who got to you guys, but I watched a senior official at DHS tell the American people that our borders were secure, and that they were several steps ahead of the flu. I’m really not worried about this one, and I don’t see any reason for you to try and scare Mom and Dad into jumping ship.”