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UNKNOWN: 6%

FINISHED DOSES EN ROUTE: 30,000,000

DOSES IN PRODUCTION: 12,000,000

INFECTED: 2,616,000 (15,350,000)

CONVERTED: 2,115,000 (6,500,000)

DEATHS: 284,000 (14,100,000)

The Converted were coming.

Blackmon’s people were trying to hurry her out of the Situation Room, but she was still the president and no one could make her go any faster than she wanted to. The time had long pa.s.sed for her to be airborne, safely away from the rapidly deteriorating situation on the ground.

The army had reported contact with at least five large mobs of Converted in and around the city of Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. The mobs seemed poorly organized, poorly armed, but they all had one thing in common: they had been heading for the White House.

Air Force One — known as Air Force Two just yesterday — had landed at Ronald Reagan National Airport, delivering Vice President Kenneth Albertson. The military maintained firm control of that airport. After Fort Benning and Andrews AFB had fallen, the Joint Chiefs had issued “kill zone” orders for all critical facilities. No matter who you were, infected or not, if you came within a hundred yards of a protected area, you got shot.

Blackmon was heading to the airport. Albertson was on his way to the White House to take her place. The American people knew him. With his face broadcasting from the nation’s capital, it would remain clear that America had not fallen.

Not yet.

But Blackmon was a realist, and knew that worst-case scenario might come to pa.s.s. Elena Turgenson, the Speaker of the House, was third in the presidential line of succession. Blackmon had ordered her to Sacramento, to set up the next governmental seat in the eventuality that the Converted overran D.C.

Blackmon’s aides were all ready to follow her out. They held stacks of paper, briefcases, and laptops. She had cleaned up for the trip: hair done up right and a freshly pressed red pantsuit gave her that hallmark presidential look once again. She was waiting for Vogel to finish talking on the phone. Someone had submitted info to the HAC site, and apparently linked to a video.

Vogel whispered something, nodded, then hung up.

“Ident.i.ty confirmed,” he said. “The subject is Cooper Mitch.e.l.l. SSN and address are accurate. Facial a.n.a.lysis software registers a one-hundred percent match with DMV records. There is no question that this man was part of the HAC study.”

Blackmon let out a little puffed-cheek whuff of air.

“We have a chance,” she said. “Play the video.”

A paused YouTube page appeared on the main monitor. The frozen image was a blur of blacks and grays. Murray couldn’t make anything out.