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Cheng froze. He looked left and right, saw that everyone was waiting for his answer. He licked his lips.

“Um, we’re working on it.”

Blackmon slapped the table again. “How long?”

Murray was just as much at fault as Cheng for this, but he couldn’t help take a tiny bit of satisfaction at watching the attention wh.o.r.e suffer. You wanted the big time, hot shot? This is what it’s really like.

Cheng had no choice but to meet the president’s burning gaze.

“We have to locate the individuals who had that experimental stem cell therapy,” he said.

Blackmon’s nostrils flared, her lips pressed into a thin line. The most powerful human being on the planet had eyes only for Cheng.

“I’m gathering you’ve found none so far,” she said. “And the only way that could happen is if you haven’t actually looked.”

She turned on Murray, pointed at him. “This is on you, too, Longworth.”

“It is,” he said. “I’ll take charge of the search personally.”

“Director Vogel,” Blackmon said. “You’re now in charge of that search. I don’t care what you have to do to find those people. Get the details from Murray and make it happen.”

Vogel nodded. “Yes, Madam President.”

She turned her attention back to Cheng. “From what you’ve told me, the hydra strain could be just as bad as what we’re already dealing with. But if this spins out of control and my choices are hydras or the destruction of the United States of America, you know G.o.dd.a.m.n well which one I’ll pick.”

Blackmon sat still for a moment, gathering herself. Murray wanted to crawl across the table and kiss her. He looked around the room, saw similar sentiments etched on the faces of America’s elite; at that moment, no one gave a rat’s a.s.s if Sandra Blackmon was Republican or Democrat, civilian or a vet, male or female. She was the right person in the right place at the right time. Everyone believed in her.

She took a breath, visibly calmed herself. “The hydra strain is one contingency plan, but that’s not enough. I want everyone working on worst-case scenarios. I want to know just how bad it can get, and I want to know what we’re going to do if it gets that way.”

In the face of an utter catastrophe, it defied logic that Murray felt optimistic — and yet, he did. It wouldn’t be easy, and he knew many would die, but they were going to beat this thing.

They were going to win.

MISTER BLISTER

Cooper took another bite of his egg-white omelette. Room-service breakfast, and it tasted d.a.m.n good. He wasn’t sure if it was thirty-seven dollars good, but this was on Steve’s tab so he didn’t really care.

He still felt c.r.a.ppy — exhausted, weak, like his whole body was rebelling against him — but at least his appet.i.te had returned. He was turning the corner. One more good, long sleep, and he’d be right as rain.

Jeff, on the other hand, had gotten worse.