would be particularly well equipped.
Dr. Stewart stood. âCome with me. I want to show you something.â
Parker followed Stewart out of the office, down the hall, and across to a single elevator that was marked with several signs that warned of limited access. Security cameras were on each corner of the lobby surrounding the elevator. Stewart flashed his pass at a magnetic reader and led Parker onto the elevator. He pushed the button for the sixth floor.
âHave you ever been in a bio lab, Mr. Jones?â
âNo, sir.â
Parker noticed that Stewart had dropped the sarcasm. He imagined that he had been judged as not being one of those insufferable visitors from the Pentagon or the CIA who didnât seem to have the capacity to respect Stewart or his work.
âWell, in that case, youâre going to start right at the top.â
Paul Stewart was not remarking on the elevator trip. As the doors opened on the sixth floor, Parker was confronted with two armed guards behind a Plexiglas security stand. Again, several red signs warned of limited access. Another sign warned of restricted access to Biosafety Level 4. Parker had read enough to know this was the maximum-security biological laboratory. The very worst bugs were kept in Biosafety Level 4.
Stewart signed in with the guards as they gave the unrecognized guest a stern look.
âThis is Mr. Jones. Putting aside his unusual name, he has direct authorization.â
âDoc, if you donât mind, we would like to call on that.â
The man stood immobile and stone-faced. He was clearly not an ordinary security guard. At a glance, Parker could tell that the man had been trained to kill and knew how to do so without conscious thought. His pay would be at the highest level possible of any security guard in the United States. No doubt heâd passed endless evaluations, background checks, psych testing, and training before he stood his first dayâs watch.
âCertainly.â
Parker didnât mind. If it were easy for a Mr. Jones to get in a Biosafety Level 4 lab, it would be easy for others. This security was appreciated.
The guard made a call, then gave the thumbs-up. âOkay, Dr. Stewart.â A vault-like door clicked and swung open, allowing the two to walk onto the biological lab floor. It was far simpler than Parker had expected. At the end of the hallway they passed through a door that led to a small room with lockers.
âWe will now climb into a level-four suit,â Stewart said.
The outfit was straight from a Star Trek movie, with an oversized hood and a thick, greenish-blue padded material that was not particularly light. It seemed to add twenty or thirty pounds to Parker as he walked around the change room. Stewart strapped tape around their wrists and ankles. They stepped from the locker room to another, with multiple showerheads and a hose coupling for each of the suits. He felt the rush of cool air as Stewart helped connect the hose.
âCan you hear me?â
âYes.â Parker was surprised how well he could hear Stewart when he spoke.
âThe shower will come on shortly. It will spray the suit with a disinfectant that should, we pray, kill anything. Hopefully, you donât have any leaks in your suit.â This was the first bit of humor that Parker had heard from the scientist. âOne more pressure test and we are done.â
Again, Parker felt air coming in to the suit.
They entered the laboratory through the vault-like door. It was far smaller than Parker had imagined. There were several glass cases with gloved portals, and inside he saw trays of seemingly harmless vials of different colored liquids. The thick Plexiglas window had a frost coating inside the cabinet.
âYou see this one over here?â Stewart pointed to a small, pink vial that had some marking on it Parker could barely make out. âEbola. That vial could wipe out New York City,â Stewart said in a flat,
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