“Then this is revenge,” I said. “Plain and simple.”

“It’s never plain or simple. I wish it were,” Wesley said. “But I do think revenge is key, which is why it is important that all government agencies that deal with infectious diseases get us the records of any employees reprimanded, fired, laid off, furloughed or whatever, in recent months and years.”

Fujitsubo cleared his throat. “Well, let’s talk logistics, then.”

It was the Coast Guard’s turn to present a plan. Martinez got up from his chair and fastened large maps to flip charts, as camera angles were adjusted so our remote guests could see.

“Can you get these in?” Martinez asked the agent at the console.

“Got them,” she said. “How about you?” She looked up at the monitors.

“Fine.”

“I don’t know. Maybe if you could zoom in more.”

She moved the camera in closer as Martinez got out a laser pointer. He directed its intense pink dot at the Maryland-Virginia line in the Chesapeake Bay that cut through Smith Island, just north of Tangier.

“We got a number of islands going up this way toward Fishing Bay and the Nanticoke River, in Maryland. There’s Smith Island. South Marsh Island. Bloodsworth Island.” The pink dot hopped to each one. “Then we’re on the mainland. And you got Crisfield down here, which is only fifteen nautical miles from Tangier.” He looked at us. “Crisfield’s where a lot of watermen bring in their crabs. And a lot of Tangier folks have relatives in Crisfield. I’m real worried about that.”

“And I’m worried that the Tangiermen are not going to cooperate,” Miles said. “A quarantine is going to cut off their only source of income.”

“Yes, sir,” Martinez said, looking at his watch. “And we’re cutting it off even as we speak. We got boats, cutters coming in from as far away as Elizabeth City to help us circle the island.”

“So as of now, no one’s leaving,” Fujitsubo said as his face continued to reign over us from the video screen.

“That’s right.”

“Good.”

“What if people resist?” I asked the obvious question. “What are you going to do with them? You can’t take them into custody and risk exposure.”

Martinez hesitated. He looked up at Fujitsubo on the video screen. “Commander, would you like to field this one, sir?” he asked.

“We’ve actually already discussed this at great length,” Fujitsubo said to us. “I have spoken to the secretary of the Department of Transportation, to Vice Admiral Perry, and of course, the Secretary of Defense. Basically, this thing is speeding its way up to the White House for authorization.”

“Authorization for what?” It was Miles who asked.

“To use deadly force, if all else fails,” Martinez said to all of us.

“Christ,” Wesley muttered.

I listened in disbelief, staring up at doomsday gods.

“We have no choice,” Fujitsubo spoke calmly. “If people panic and start fleeing the island and do not heed Coast Guard warnings, they will—not if—but will bring smallpox onto the mainland. And we’re talking about a population which either has not been vaccinated in thirty years. Or an immunization done so long ago it’s no longer effective. Or a disease that has mutated to the extent that our present vaccine is not protective. There isn’t a good scenario, in other words.”