Seated on the roof of his building in the heart of Sana'a's old city, Ahmed glanced out at the ancient architecture.  His eyes focused on the old tower in the mosque down the street.  It, in a way, symbolized him.  The base of the tower was solid and unassuming, despite all of the improvised windows.  The top was ornate, decorated in the Persian style.  The Imam would start the call to prayer soon.  Having spent an hour on the roof, thinking and praying, Ahmed again felt ready to face the world.  A world that had taken Yussuf, but that he would take even more from -- his brother would be avenged.  He got up, passed his landlady on the way down and murmured a quiet blessing to her.

First, he was going to go to the mosque.  Then he would call The Other.  The second phase was likely already in play and they needed to prepare for the third phase.  He would need to leave Yemen tomorrow and finally return to home.  It was again time to be Ahmed with the doctorate in computer science, a man of the West by education, a servant of Allah by heart.  No more manual labor for now.

--------------------

Andrea was getting a cramp in her neck.  She was hunched over the two laptops that the intrepid adventurers had lifted from the lab.  She was working on getting the data separated into logical structures, and then transferring the files to her computer on the jet.  It had been time-consuming because the owner of the laptops had been very disorganized, at least to her logical mind.

Finally, it was all on her system and she fired up her four monitors.  She knew that Jax would want to ensure that the data was clean.  Nothing suspicious could be transferred to the authorities. On the first monitor, she opened a data scrubbing program that she had written herself and that had since netted her a virtual fortune in software revenues. 

Opening up another program on the second monitor, she began collating the research data that would be needed to translate the antidote recipe and start production.  She glanced briefly at the first lines of code as the program began to synthesize the parameters she input.  This was going to be relatively simple and most of the files looked like they would not have problems with what she was about to start on the monitor.

The third monitor got a fair amount of her attention.  She opened yet another program that she had written, input a few parameters, tasked it to append the result to all of the research data files and opened a small file from her own hard drive.  This small sequence was about to be attached to all that was being sent to the authorities.  It should go unnoticed as it really didn't do much ... besides add a few kilobytes to the files.

She darkened this monitor and started in on the final monitor.  Here she started a sniffer program and asked it to find locations, people, actions, anything that would lead to others in the organization that had owned the two laptops.  As the process gained speed, she heard the door open.

"Andrea, when you are ready, the data will need to be transmitted to the following locations," Jax had entered.  He handed her a slip of paper, "and I'm sure that the FBI will want to get the original laptops when we get to Quantico."

"We are going to Quantico?"  Andrea was surprised and pleased.

"Yes, well ... we are ... Danny will likely just go to Bethesda.  He literally busted his butt," Jax smiled.

"Oh.  Umm, okay.  Well, the data will be ready for transmission in 10 minutes if you get out of here, boss, and leave me to my work.  I'll run a virus scan on the laptops just so the FBI doesn't think we are amateurs, handing over potentially damaging stuff."

"Excellent!  I'll phone ahead that the data is coming.  Thank you, Andrea."

Turning back to the third monitor, Andrea quickly finished on her file and started appending the small sequence to all the research files.  She closely watched to ensure that it wasn't changing the Last Saved date on the files.  Exactly 10 minutes later, she zipped all the files and prepared the cover email that went off to Quantico, CDC and Bethesda.

--------------------

The J & J jet landed at Bethesda Naval Air Station.  The Jacks brothers, the laptops and all other staff from the plane were whisked off to Quantico.  Danny and Dr. Jergens were escorted by the FBI to the naval hospital. 

"Jerry said to tell you it's just a loaner."  Dr. Jergens handed Danny a cell phone.

"CJ?"

"Danny, where are you?" There was tone of relief in her voice, but Danny could tell she did not feel well.

"In the back of an ambulance.  FBI are taking me to the hospital.  I hurt my butt."

"What?"

"Had a little accident and bru...usted my tailbone.  They're taking me to the hospital for xrays.  Can't come to the White House anyway."  There was a long pause; Danny was not entirely clear-headed nor did he really want to hear the answer to his next question even though he knew the answer. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm sick, Danny.  I have it."

"I wish I could be there ... with you."

"I know.  Thank you for that. And thank you for finding the antidote."

"Thanks for trusting me to try."

"You've never lied to me.  You trusted me in return.  What else would I do?"

"We're here, I have to go.  Take care, CJ.  I really do think everyone is going to be fine. I'll call you as soon as  I'm done at the hospital. Shouldn't be long. You should rest."

She had no sooner set down the phone and returned to the couch when the phone rang again.  She labored back to her feet, trying to overcome the moment of dizziness that struck her.

"Yes?" she said hoarsely.

"CJ, it's Sam.  I'm sorry to bother you ... I just found out.  I wish there was something I could do.  Well, there is something that I will be doing.  I will take the press briefings for now.  But ... " Sam paused, not sure if CJ should be included in this discussion, if she was able to participate.  He pressed on, knowing that it was the right thing to do.  "... anyways.  I'm trying to figure out what to tell them.  We can't very well announce that the White House has been infected ... we can't really hide that something is going on either though.  Do you have any ideas?"

"Sam, I don't know ... " CJ desperately wanted to be able to focus and give helpful input.  These were her reporters, darn it.  But what she wanted even more was to lie down again.  She spoke slowly so she could concentrate, "Danny is supposed to call me back soon...after he's done at the hospital.  I'll make sure he intends to hold the story for now. We don't want to compromise the FBI's efforts to find the terrorists."

"Okay, I'm thinking that we should use the automatic flushing toilets to our advantage," Sam interrupted.  "We will say that there was a problem with the plumbing and we have to close off much of the West Wing while it is repaired..."

"Sam," CJ had gathered her thoughts and knew what was wrong with this conversation, "go find Leo.  He will be able to help you with what to say and what not to say to the press.  I think it would be best not to mention that Mrs. Bartlet was feeling ill earlier."

"Mrs. Bartlet ... oh no," Sam felt overwhelmed.  This was more than he would ever want to take on.  They really needed CJ.  "Well, I will check with the President on her status.  I guess we have to release that you were infected.  Josh is also starting to feel bad ... and Donna. I'll handle it, CJ ... feel better!"

CJ put down the phone and pondered just how she would get up enough energy to get back on the couch.  The phone line was long enough--she decided to take it with her.

--------------------

The FBI round up of the terrorists in Washington was swift, efficient and utterly non-productive. Al-Zayad, the cell leader, was traced to an average Georgetown apartment that contained little but a few sparse comforts of home.  There were many books in Arabic, several prayer mats and a small vial and a used syringe in the trash.  This was the sum total of the evidence found there.  When the FBI visited the plumbing company, they found nothing but bodies.  With the AC left at high, it was difficult to determine precisely when the company had been closed down.  In the lunchroom of the plumbing company, they found what perhaps was one tiny oversight ... a small vial hidden in a Ben & Jerry's ice cream carton.

When the FBI liaison, Mike Casper, reported this to Leo, he shared the theory that the vial was more likely to contain virus than antidote because it was frozen; and they would attempt to confirm that within a few hours. Leo picked up Nancy McNally's brief again and wondered if this was going to be a bigger thing.

--------------------

"CJ?"

"Danny?"  He could tell he'd woken her up.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"No Danny, I was hoping you'd call. How are you?"

"I have a broken tailbone.  Nothing to do for it except painkillers and it will heal on its own.  They say I won't be sitting down for the next couple of weeks.  But it's nothing serious."

"That's good. Danny...?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you going to do with the story?"

"I can't do anything with it at the moment.  The FBI is listening to everything I say.  Agent Cochran hasn't been further than five feet away from me since we landed. She listens to my every word," he tried to whisper.  "They're still...you know...assessing the national security risk.  Don't worry, CJ, I'll consult with the White House before any sort of story with details is filed.  I wasn't exactly acting as a reporter for the last 24 hours and for now, I'm in FBI custody.  Jerry says that's akin to hell on earth."  He made sure Agent Cochran heard the last bit clearly, although he smiled at her. Best to leave her thinking he was just teasing.  "CJ, I have to go to Quantico now.  You know I'd put on one of those silly contamination suits and be with you if I could, right?  But Agent Cochran would probably shoot me if I tried to make a break for the White House right now."

"I miss you too, Danny."

--------------------

"Mr. McGarry."  It was Mike Casper from the FBI on the phone again.  "The vial found at the plumbing company is the cancer virus.  I have been informed that this will help the process. It can be used for testing the antidote."

"Anything further?"

"Yes, there is a bit of disturbing news.   The latest report from Bethesda is that the research data found on the laptops in Jeddah was flawed.   The antidote could not be manufactured from the 'recipe' contained there.   However, because the Jacks brothers had in fact managed to get a small sample of what appears to be legitimate antidote from the lab, the scientists from Johns Hopkins and the Bethesda staff are working round the clock reverse engineering the antidote.   Oh, and we have a line on Abdul bin Masuud Al-Amin who resides in Seattle, Washington.   Odd that a major player for this mission would be so far away." 

Leo reached over, touching the cover of Nancy McNally's brief. He was leaning towards thinking that Nancy was right.

"Mr. McGarry?"

"Yes, thank you, Mike." He set down the phone. The research data on the computers was flawed?

--------------------

Andrea's analysis of the research, names, etc. from the computers had yielded one useful piece of information on Abdul bin Masuud Al-Amin -- his location.   By the time that the FBI reached his residence in Seattle, Washington, he was gone.   However, his departure had been hasty and he had left evidence behind.   A set of emails from the plumbing company contained a series of press releases that were to have been distributed according to a carefully planned time schedule.

--------------------

The Other put down the phone, quietly and thoughtfully.  Picking up the remote for his Bose stereo, the air once again was filled with the soothing harmonies of the Benedictine Monks Of Santo Domingo de Silos.  The soft light shone gently on his desk as he did a quick check of his email.  The phone call had confirmed that the loose end in Seattle had been disposed of in a timely manner.  Picking up his Turkish coffee, he walked into his atrium. 

So far, the plan was advancing well.  Phase one was about to close.  It had brought a few unexpected results.  He would vastly have preferred not to lose Yussuf.  It didn't really change the overall probability of success, but Ahmed would be more ... unpredictable and volatile now.  The laptops had gone off to the US as planned.  The fact that the intruders in the lab had gotten a sample of the antidote might move his timetable up a bit because he had counted on a longer distraction from the virus.  But all in all, this phase had accomplished all that it was designed to.

Reflecting on all the data that had come in so far, The Other smiled.  He had chosen correctly when he had decided to select Jerry Jacks as the foil for phase one.  The Australian had done everything just the way The Other had anticipated.  Now it was time to see if his next set of predictions and players would do as well.

Insha'allah.  Allah's will.  A strange concept for a man that didn't really belong in the Arab world.  Of course, he didn't belong in the Western world either. 

--------------------

Purgatory -- 10 days, Friday through a week from Sunday.

Danny, Jerry, Jax, Andrea, Mike and the gang spent the better part of next three days debriefing.  Jerry wondered how the word 'brief' ever got into 'debriefing.'  Danny wanted to be with CJ ... and he wanted to be beyond the embarrassment of being debriefed while laying face down on a cot, the allowance for his fractured coccyx, rather than sitting in a chair like everyone else. The suits and uniforms kept having to look for new and different experts to understand Andrea. And Mike drove them crazy with one-word answers. Jax, of course, did just fine.

Gimpy 2 headed off to 'goat camp' at the Virginia-Maryland Regional College of Veterinary Medicine to be tested for Rift Valley Fever and quarantined for a week. Jax had paid his estimated bill in advance and made a generous donation to the school's general research fund. Dr. Akin from APHIS had been most helpful in arranging for Gimpy's safe transportation.

Anyone who was in the White House from 7:00 am Monday to 7:00 pm Tuesday was now quarantined there.  The doctors took blood samples and tonsilar swabs every day.  People would be released when they ceased shedding virus.  Those that proved by these tests not to have been infected were released straight away.  The President was lucky.  And as it turned out, Charlie and the First Lady both had the actual flu. 

CJ, Carol, Josh and Donna were not among the lucky ones.   For the first few days they mostly slept on the cots provided by the CDC doctors and nurses, who roamed the White House in their full body protective suits.   Once they felt better, the West Wingers tried to work during the day, helping to control the spin on their own story.   In the evenings and when they needed a break, they had a few diversions they had found in a storage closet with the holiday decorations: Monopoly, Scrabble, and a jigsaw puzzle with a picture of about 200 Pez dispensers.   And they had every channel of television known to man.

It had been decided that the true nature of the virus wouldn't be disclosed to the public at this time.   Danny Concannon of the Washington Post had reported that there would be a White House Press Conference on a breaking a news story: the mysterious flu that had struck the White House was, in fact, a terrorist attack using a biological agent.   The White House had been the only government facility affected. In front of the press corps in its temporary abode -- the quickly modified East Room with its spacious beauty and near Luddite technology allowances -- Sam and Leo chose to emphasize that it wasn't anthrax and it wasn't weaponized, both true-that was the sound bite they wanted the public to hang on to, even if it wasn't entirely relevant. They had said it was just a virus that spread unusually rapidly and could be fatal in the immunocompromised or the elderly -- a superflu.   But an antidote had been found, the sick people in the White House were all getting better. The secondary contacts had been quarantined as well and they were mostly not infected.   Those few that were, were getting better. The medical folks had done their jobs -- it was all contained.   The public could relax.

Danny had been comfortable with the decision to hold back the details on the true virus in the interest of national security, at least until the original source of the technology had been found and dealt with.  Similarly, the identities of Jerry, Jax, Mike, Danny, et al had been withheld for their own protection.  CJ, when interviewed via closed circuit TV, had referred to them -- 'the men and women who discovered the plot and found the antidote for the virus ' -- as 'selfless' and 'brave.'  Regarding her own involvement, she'd reported only that she'd gotten mildly ill, was now getting better, and that a confinement in the White House was "better than a lot of hotels."

--------------------

Friday #1

"CJ, it's Danny on the phone."

"Put him through"

"Hello CJ, how are you?"

"Is she listening?"

"She's my shadow."

"Things are pretty much the same, Danny.  I feel better than yesterday.  I told you that when you called an hour ago.  And come to think of it, you called an hour before that."

"I've been drinking a lot of coffee.  It means they have to let me out for pee breaks.  Bladder, you know, isn't that far away from the tailbone. That's when I get to call.  How's my fish? "

"Gail's fine."  She changed the subject back, "what does she do during your pee breaks?"

"She turns her back."  CJ did not really like this Agent Cochran thing.

"CJ, I have a surprise for you, B-T-W.  Gimpy 2" he stopped.  "Well... long story.  I will send you a picture... at any rate. They want me back in there now.  God, we've been at this all day. And they're not very sympathetic to how much my butt hurts. But I'll drink more coffee."

"Danny, at least switch to decaf. Would you please."

--------------------

Sunday #1

"What do you mean ... conditional pardon?"  Jerry was turning red with frustration.  "There is no such thing!  It's like a pregnancy ... you can't be a little pregnant ... you either are or you are not.  I want the full pardon ... conditional means no pardon!"

Jax and Jerry were both glaring at the calm Dr. Nancy McNally, who had just explained that although Jerry was most certainly getting a pardon, it would be conditional.  The biggest problem with that from the Jacks brothers' perspective -- other than the pregnancy thing -- was that the conditions were to be defined by Dr. McNally and the NSA at a later date.

"We will contact the President through Danny," Jax stated ... not even himself sure if it was a threat for McNally or an attempt to soothe Jerry.

"Please do, gentlemen.  I fully expected that you would.  The thing is that while the President and I often disagree, we are always in agreement when something strikes closely to home.  This did.  Your further involvement will be needed.  And the best way for us to guarantee that we get it is to make the pardon conditional."  McNally didn't even look apologetic, she was merely stating facts as she saw them.

"And since you both clearly want to storm out of here, but cannot leave your FBI assigned rooms, I will leave now.  Good luck with the President.  We will talk soon."

Nancy McNally strode out of the guest quarters at Quantico and went directly to her car.  She was deeply worried about the further implications of the events that had unfolded. She still didn't see how this virus thing could be the entire iceberg.  She was completely alone in the intelligence community on this analysis.  Leo McGarry did seem to think she had a point, but if she did ... it was crucial that they kept looking.  Regrettably, the Jacks brothers would have to come second to her main mission of keeping the US safe.

TBC