At her office, she began prepping for the deployment. Her duffel bag contained the essentials for any outbreak investigation: clothes, toiletries, a satellite GPS, sunblock, gowns, gloves, goggles, a portable projector, and MREs—meals ready-to-eat. The MREs were particularly essential for outbreaks in the third world; often the local food and water harbored the very pathogen they were fighting.

Peyton put in rush orders for the other things the team would need in Mandera, including location-specific medications, mosquito netting, insect repellent, and satsleeves—sleeves that slid onto smartphones to give them satellite phone capability with data access. The satphone sleeves would enable team members to keep their regular phone numbers and contacts as well as access their email and other data. Being able to take a picture in the field and instantly upload it could well change the course of an outbreak response—and save lives.

Next, she began preparing packets for the team. She printed maps of Mandera and surrounding areas, and made lists of contacts at the CDC’s Kenya office, the US embassy, the EOC, WHO Kenya, and the Kenyan Ministry of Health and Public Sanitation. She pulled up a questionnaire she had used in the field during the Ebola outbreak in West Africa and made a few modifications, adapting it to the region. She printed hundreds of copies. Some epidemiologists were pushing to go paperless in the field, but Peyton still preferred good ol’ printed forms: they never crashed, their batteries never died, and roadside bandits were infinitely less interested in file folders than tablets. Paper worked.

That left one major decision: personnel.

Someone knocked softly on the open door to her office, and she turned to find her supervisor, Elliott Shapiro, leaning against the door frame.

“Hi,” she said.

“How do you always get here so fast?”

“I sleep with one eye open.”

He smiled. “Right. What’re you working on?”

“Personnel.”

“Good. You see the pictures?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks bad.”

“Very. We really need to be there right now,” Peyton said. “If it gets to Nairobi, we’ll be in trouble.”

“I agree. I’ll make some calls, see if I can get you there any sooner.”

“Thanks.”

“Call me if you need me,” he said, stepping out of her office.

“Will do.”

Peyton looked up a number on the CDC’s intranet directory for a colleague she’d never met: Joseph Ruto. Ruto led the CDC’s country operations in Kenya. They had 172 people in Kenya, a mix of US assignees and Kenyans working for the agency. Most were concentrated at the CDC office in Nairobi, where they worked closely with the Kenyan Ministry of Health.

Peyton took some time to read Ruto’s internal status reports. She was about to call him when she had an idea—one that might well save one or both of the Americans’ lives. A few quick searches told her it was possible. It might also prevent the pathogen from spreading to Nairobi.

Elliott once again appeared in her doorway. “Caught a break. Air Force is going to give you a ride to Nairobi.”