Dead Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

visibly upset.
    He held up the remote, and a bright light flashed from a projector. A virtual image appeared, showing strategic maps and coordinates with cutting edge technology. Moore was illuminated by the projection as he stood before the team, who were listening intently, experts at work.
    “The video you are about to see was taken approximately 14 hours ago.”
    Aerial photography flickered, followed by footage through the eye of a camera mounted to a helicopter.
    Into view came a small, rocky island. The ocean pounded the rocky shore with waves and foam. As it zoomed in, a sprawling complex came into view. It was maximum security, protected by a fortified wall.
    Moore paced.
    “Located on Plum Island, about two hundred miles east of New York City, code named Ice-Fox, this laboratory was issued by A.R.P.A. to support the CDC with sensitive, classified issues. It is a gem in the military science community.”
    Peterson interrupts, “more sensitive?”
    Washington interjected, disdainfully. “Obviously, Commander, there are a lot of viral and biological threats out there which fall into classified territory. Really, I’m surprised you’re so naïve.”
    Peterson just got one more reason to hate Washington, that little fuck.
    Moore continued: “The ARPA pursues research and development where risk and payoff are both very high and where success may provide dramatic advances. This is their brainchild.”
    Peterson looked hard at Moore.
    “I’ve never heard about this Lab, General.”
    “That’s because it doesn’t exist, got it?” Moore snapped back.
    “Excuse me sir, but is there a relationship between this facility and the infection?” Armstrong called out.
    The General worked the remote, and images of faces appeared.
    Washington picked up: “There was a community of seventy five scientists. They are the leading scientific minds of our nation, totaling one hundred and sixty five occupants in all.”
    But Armstrong never took well to being ignored. “Sir, do you intend to answer my question? I think we all deserve to know.”
    Moore loses his cool: “What the hell do you think? This is why you’re fucking here.”
    Washington turned to Moore. “I thought this team was the best, General? They seem like amateurs to me.”
    Peterson had enough of Washington and his prissy attitude: “Who is this limp dick freshman, General?”
    Washington was taken aback by Peterson’s insult, as if shocked that such an inferior man would launch such an assault.
    “Listen up!” Moore snapped. “This situation has all of us stressed out. Keep your damn cool.”
    Washington stepped forward again.
    “This is about a Doctor Rudolph Winthrop. Graduate from Harvard’s child program. He finished his undergrad studies at the age of twelve, and went on to accumulate over eight doctorates in every subject from math to physics to biology and much, much more. His I.Q. can’t be measured. There’s never been anybody like him in our generation, at least. He is in fact the greatest scientific assets of the United States.”
    Moore interjected: “Now he may hold a cure of what may become the greatest pandemic the world has ever seen. Does this answer your question, Armstrong?”
    “Yes,” Armstrong answers with a calm, controlled voice, “It certainly does.”
    “Was there an accident General? A mistake on our behalf of some sort?” Peterson asked.
    “No,” the General emphasizes. “It’s not like that.”
    “Then what is it like, General?” Peterson persisted. “Are you saying this lab and the infection is somehow related?”
    Moore thought hard for a moment, “No. It’s not.”
    “Then what caused it?” came Tag’s voice.
    “I don’t know.” Moore responded, and rested his hand on his chin, deep in thought.
    Peterson was confused. “Then exactly how does this scientist know how to solve it?”
    “He may know how to solve it, Commander,” General Moore’s voice lowered in anger, “that’s what I was told,