All Fall Down by Louise Voss

anticipation.
    There was silence for a few minutes while everyone helped themselves. ‘So, folks,’ McCarthy said. ‘Let’s hear it. What are we really up against here? And not too much of your scientific jargon, either – I am a simple man.’ He made a silly face, but no one except Annie laughed.
    Junko pushed away her unfinished eggs and leaned her elbows on the table. ‘It appears to be an intense strain of Watoto, which is bad enough in its familiar state, but this one seems to kill people much more quickly – in four days, as opposed to the six or seven Watoto usually takes. The stats that William’s been receiving indicate that we’re dealing with a ninety-nine per cent mortality rate, which is one of the worst we’ve ever seen. It’s a filovirus – not a flu virus at all, despite the media calling it Indian flu. Its closest relatives are Ebola and Marburg – but this strain of Watoto is even more deadly than those.’
    There was a roar from the corridor, and everyone’s heads jerked up. ‘Kolosine,’ mouthed Junko at Kate, and the door burst open. A huge, hirsute man stood framed in the doorway. He was wearing a checked plaid shirt, with a thatch of dark chest hair curling out of the top. He had longish brown hair, and the sort of beard that made Kate relieved that she hadn’t seen him eat soup. His eyes were bright green and very clear, and his voice seemed to boom out from the bottom of his sneakers. He completely ignored Kate.
    ‘Suits on, people – we’ve got a live one coming in any moment. The Aeromedical Isolation Team are bringing him in a VATI. Police sergeant in the LAPD, thirty-two years old, in advanced stages of the disease. This is our best shot: fresh tissue samples, a chance to observe the effects of the virus first hand – don’t fuck it up.’
    ‘What’s a VATI?’ asked McCarthy, helping himself to another croissant as, all around him, chairs were being pushed back and people were rising to their feet.
    ‘Vickers aircraft transport isolator – it’s a way of transporting very infectious patients,’ said Kate. ‘Looks like a gurney with a plastic tent over it.’
    ‘I knew that,’ McCarthy said, buttering the croissant.
    Kolosine was still standing in the doorway, urging his team out. He looked more like a lumberjack than a world-renowned scientist, Kate thought. She walked up to him and held out her hand. ‘Hi, Professor Kolosine, I’m Kate Maddox. It’s an honour to meet you, and I’m—’
    ‘Yeah, yeah, hi, let’s get going,’ he said, ignoring her outstretched hand, and looking right over the top of her head. ‘We got work to do here. I’ll see you in the lab in twenty minutes.’ With that, he turned on his heel and strode out, leaving Kate standing with her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Junko came up behind her and squeezed her elbow.
    ‘Don’t take it personally,’ she said. ‘The great Professor Kolosine doesn’t have much time for mere mortals like us. Come on, I’ll show you where the lab is.’
    Kate clenched her teeth together and shut her eyes tightly for a moment to try and contain her anger. Kolosine had better be as brilliant as everyone said he was.
    ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Bring it on.’

12
    Paul waited for Harley to come back, hoping to eavesdrop further on his conversation, but when Harley returned he had put his phone away. Paul heard him go into his room and shut the door.
    Charles Mangold. Since Stephen’s death, finding Mangold had become an obsession for Paul. He felt like that Nazi hunter – what was his name? – who had sworn he wouldn’t rest until they were all brought to justice. But Paul’s efforts had been stymied because his criminal record meant he could only track Mangold online. But now he’d finally been allowed into the US he could pursue leads that would have been impossible over the internet.
    He could almost feel Stephen watching him, urging him on, saying, ‘
Do it, Paul. Find him. For me.
’
    He