Peyton held up a hand. “Hold on, cowboy.” She nodded toward the moon, which glowed yellow in the sky. “I want you to set out first thing in the morning—when your mind is fresh and the team supporting you is well rested. Besides, there’s a lot we need to do here. The temperature will drop even more soon, and we’ll be able to work a little longer in the suits. One thing the Ebola outbreak in West Africa reminded us of is that dead bodies carrying the pathogen can be just as dangerous as living hosts. Much of the Ebola transmission in West Africa happened at funerals, where African burial practices, such as kissing the dead, helped the virus explode beyond the villages.”

Peyton surveyed a map on the wall, then circled the villages adjacent to their location and B9, the main road that led south.

“Jonas, I think we should deploy teams to these villages and follow our SOPs: isolation and quarantine. I think there’s a good chance we’ve found ground zero here.”

“I agree,” Jonas said. “I’ll make the call to Mandera and assign personnel.”

“Colonel, I think it’s time for that checkpoint on B9,” Peyton said.

The Kenyan officer nodded.

“And I’d like your men to dig a fire pit.”

“How large?”

“Large enough to burn our suits from today and anything in this village that might be carrying the pathogen.”

“Bodies?” the colonel asked.

“Not yet. We’re going to put them in body bags in the next hour or two. We’ll make the call later. Right now we need to stop any transmission. If they’ve been dead for at least a few days, bats, birds, rats, and any other hosts feeding on the bodies may already be infected.”

“When would you want to burn the material?”

“Ideally at the end of each day.”

“I’d recommend against it,” Colonel Magoro said. “The al-Shabaab terrorists are likely already aware of your presence here in Kenya. A large fire would paint a target on us.”

“What do you suggest?”

“We could dig the pit now, fill it, and place a tarp over it, sealing it as best we can. When we leave, I’ll have two men stay behind and burn it after we’re a few hours away.”

Peyton glanced at Jonas, who nodded slightly. “That works for us.”

The three hours just after sunset were physically and mentally grueling. When they were done, the pit Colonel Magoro’s men had dug was filled with suits and all manner of items from the village, everything from toothbrushes and toys to clothes and stored food. A patchwork of olive green tarps stretched across the crater, duct tape connecting the pieces together like silver stitching on a plastic quilt.