Ebola K: A Terrorism Thriller by Bobby Adair Page A

farms since
heading east across the road north of Kitale. They crossed the
border far from any roads and far from any towns. No bribes needed
to be paid.
    More importantly, no questions needed to be
asked. No witnesses needed to be paid extra to hold their tongues
about eight armed Arab men who’d crossed the border—once into
Uganda and once back out—with a sick young man riding along.
    Having successfully crossed into Uganda on
their way to Kapchorwa, they stopped their Land Rovers in the
middle of the dirt road and they all got out.
    One of the men took several boxes out of the
back of Najid’s Land Rover, opened them, and started passing out
plastic-wrapped packets. Each of the eight men received one yellow
Tyvek suit, a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves, goggles, a
chemical protective hood, and a surgical mask. The men donned the
gear. It was hot, suffocating equipment in the humid East African
sun, but it was necessary, given the dangers ahead. They loaded
back into the vehicles, and with air conditioners running at
maximum, they drove the last few miles into Kapchorwa.

Chapter 17
    They sat in a booth at the restaurant,
because they always sat in a booth—usually the same booth.
They ordered their usual pizza from their usual waiter, Nick. And
as usual, Paul felt a pang of guilt because they spent too much
money eating out. The evidence being that they had a usual booth, a
usual pizza, and a usual waiter.
    Heidi started checking her Facebook page on
her phone as soon as Nick left the drinks. She checked in at the
pizza place, checked the newsfeed, and wrote a comment about
something that made her laugh to herself.
    Paul swirled the ice in his glass with the
straw and when the cubes had jingled against the glass enough
times, he said, “You might think this is a little weird.”
    “What?” Heidi didn’t look up from her phone,
which wasn’t unusual. She liked to tell herself that she was a
multitasker, when in fact she was just good at lying to herself
about ignoring people.
    Paul was used to it. “After that story on the
news yesterday I went to Costco and bought some stuff.”
    “Uh-huh.” Heidi slid her finger down the
screen, glanced up, smiled, and looked back down at her phone.
    “I bought a fifty-pound bag of rice, five
gallons of cooking oil, and some other stuff.”
    Heidi scrolled again, read some more,
stopped, then looked up. “You what?”
    “It’s probably nothing. I mean, I may be
worried about nothing, but after that story in the news about that
guy showing up in New York with Ebola, I got worried.”
    “You think Ebola is here?” she asked.
    “I honestly doubt it.”
    “What does this have to do with buying fifty
pounds of rice at Costco?”
    Paul looked around to assure himself that no
one was listening to the conversation. “I’m a little embarrassed
about it.”
    Heidi put her phone down on the table. She
was ready to give her full attention.
    Knowing that wouldn’t last long, Paul
continued, “I kind of feel like a prepper.”
    “A prepper?”
    “You know. Like those Doomsday Preppers you
see on TV.”
    She cringed. “You bought rice because you’re
a Doomsday Prepper?”
    “No, not really. Maybe a little. Like I said,
I got worried because of that Ebola thing in New York. If there’s
an outbreak there, things could kind of go to shit pretty quickly
in the rest of the country. I just figured if I spent a hundred
bucks or so at Costco, we’d be safe. In theory, we’d have enough to
eat for two or three months in case we couldn’t go out.”
    “ Rice ?” Heidi’s tone made it clear she
was displeased. “Please don’t tell me it’s white rice.”
    “They only had white in bulk. I couldn’t find
any brown.”
    “Bland, boring white rice.” Heidi’s
face showed clear disappointment.
    She was missing the point. Paul said, “Yeah,
I didn’t say we were going to like the food. Only that we’d have
something to keep us alive, just in case.”
    Heidi leaned