“Every one of us is a representative of the CDC and the United States of America. Our actions could impact our relationships in the region. That could have consequences for us—and for the people just like you who will be on the next Air Force transport for the next outbreak. I’m not telling you to walk on eggshells or to be afraid to take decisive action. But if we can, we ought to do our best to leave our relationships there better than we found them.”

When the pilot announced that they were on approach for Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi, about half the members of the CDC team had surrendered to sleep for one last nap. The lights were dark in the passenger compartment except for a few glowing laptop screens at the back and several reading lights. Duffel bags and wadded-up clothes lay under the heads of those sleeping. Wool blankets covered the floor and were draped across team members.

Peyton had fallen asleep on a row of five seats. When she awoke, she realized her legs were intertwined with the person sharing the row with her. She looked up and found Phil staring back at her. He sat up quickly, held his hand out, and pulled her up. They looked at each other a moment, then set about collecting their things and getting ready for the landing, which was surprisingly painless.

She smoothed out her uniform, threw her duffel bag over her shoulder, and marched down the ramp off the plane.

It was night in Nairobi, and beyond the airport tower, the city lights twinkled. A gust of warm wind blew a few strands of her shiny black hair into her face.

Ahead, twelve Japanese SUVs waited on the tarmac. The front passenger door of the second vehicle opened, and Jonas stepped out. The look on his face stopped Peyton in her tracks.

Something was wrong.

Chapter 20

The black SUVs rolled through Nairobi, bunching up at stoplights and stretching out in between, like a black snake stalking through a field of skyscrapers.

In the second car, Peyton rode in the back seat with Jonas Becker, her counterpart at the WHO. On the tarmac, he had told her only that he had urgent news to share. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to share it in the presence of others.

“How was the flight?” he asked.

“Good. Long.”

“You sleep?”

“A little.”

“Sorry I woke you so early yesterday.”

“Don’t be. I needed the head start.”

At the hotel, Jonas offered to carry Peyton’s duffel, as he had a dozen times before. As always, she declined.

The hotel wasn’t fancy, but it was in a safe part of town, near the American embassy. Kenyan troops stood guard in the parking lot, and Nairobi PD had several cars along the street.

The moment the door to Peyton’s room closed, Jonas said, “It’s reached the villages.”

He spread a map out on one of the queen size beds and pointed to three highlighted areas outside Mandera.