“Perfect,” Byron groans. “Public Health is going to have to quarantine this whole damn neighborhood. Lock it down.”

“How can we quarantine an entire suburb?” Polese asks in disbelief.

“What choice do you have?” Byron says. “With the self-neglect and lack of hygiene we just saw, it’s almost as bad as the Middle Ages. Can you imagine how quickly the plague could spread under those conditions? At the very least, everyone in Scampìa is going to require antibiotic prophylaxis.”

“Prego,” Polese says. “This we can try. I will put my entire staff on it.”

“We’ll send a WHO team to help,” Byron says.

Alana doubts those steps will be enough, but with one glance at her despondent colleagues, she decides to keep the thought to herself.

Polese drops them off at the airport. As soon as their flight is airborne, Byron opens his laptop and furiously types more notes. Alana studies him while he works. “What is it, Byron?”

He barely looks away from the screen. “What is what?”

“What’s troubling you so much?”

“Everything. You saw and heard what I just did.”

She won’t let it go. “C’mon, Byron. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

He shakes his head and begins to type again. After a short while, he slams the laptop lid shut. “I didn’t expect this, all right? Is that what you need to hear?”

“Expect what?” she asks quietly.

“Any of it!” He takes a breath and lowers his voice to avoid being overheard. “I’m good at what I do, Alana. Very good. When they asked me in Geneva to lead the response team, I believed I was the right choice. The best choice. I never doubted that we would contain this outbreak.”

Alana can see that he needs to talk, so she just nods.

“Look where we are a week later,” he says. “The plague has gripped Genoa and has now spread to Rome and Naples. And you just saw the disaster that is Scampìa. How the hell will we contain that?” He looks away for a few moments. When he speaks again, his voice drops to a near-whisper. “The best choice? I am not even convinced I’ve been a competent one.”

“You’ve done as well as anybody could.” She puts a hand on his leg. “You were the one who told me that our primary job is to minimize further spread and death. And that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.”

“But you said it yourself. We can’t contain this until we figure out where it comes from and how it’s spreading.”

“Agreed. We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, we can only do what we can. One step at a time.” She forces a grin. “Epidemiology 101, remember?”

“Yeah, I do.” He lays his hand on top of hers and gives it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

The unexpected moment of intimacy confuses her. Up until a few days ago, she hadn’t even particularly liked Byron. She’s still not sure how she feels about him. Flustered, she pulls her hand free.