Ten minutes later, Hannah marched back into the tent complex, carrying a dark object Peyton couldn’t make out. Whatever it was, she was taking great care with it. She bagged it before she entered the field decontamination chamber.

A short time later, Hannah placed the plastic bag on the conference table. Peyton, Jonas, Millen Thomas, and several members from the Kenyan Ministry of Health leaned forward and examined it.

It was a handheld video camera, covered in blood.

Hannah took a seat at the table. “They were here. The two Americans.”

“Good work, Dr. Watson,” Peyton said.

The young redheaded physician beamed.

Peyton pointed to a worn, spiral-bound notebook on the table. “I’ve been reviewing Dr. Kibet’s notes. He took a detailed history from Steven Collins before he died. He also spoke at length with Lucas Turner before we sent him back to Atlanta. Both men reported having a cough, headache, fever, and fatigue a week before Steven fell ill.”

“My God,” Jonas said.

“We’re dealing with a completely new, unidentified pathogen here,” Peyton said. “In the early days, it looks like the flu. A week or two later, it kills you.”

“So where did it start?” Jonas asked.

“I see two possibilities,” Peyton said. “Either it originated here in Kenya, or it was brought here by the Americans.”

“The package from Desmond Hughes,” Jonas said, looking suspicious.

Peyton was hesitant. “Possibly.”

Around the table, the Kenyans, Hannah, and Millen glanced at each other, confused.

Peyton focused on the head of the Kenyan Ministry of Health team.

“You sent teams to the surrounding villages where the patients at Mandera Referral Hospital had come from, correct?”

“We did. It’s nothing like this. Some dead. Everyone is sick though.”

Peyton stood and put her hands on her waist. “Okay, let’s think about what we know. Our index case is likely either Steven Collins, whose body is in the air on its way back to the CDC, or one of those dead villagers we just saw.”

Millen, who was a veterinarian, spoke up for the first time. “If one of the villagers came into contact with a fruit bat or droppings, the reservoir hosts might be close by.”

At the end of the table, a member of the Kenyan Ministry of Health asked their local interpreter if there were caves in the area or other natural habitats for bats.

The man nodded. “A lot of caves.”

Millen rose quickly from the table. “I’ll get ready.”