Riyadh, King Khalid International Airport, Friday, 21:00
This is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to actual events or to real persons, dead or alive is, naturally, strictly coincidental
39
Riyadh, King Khalid International Airport
Friday, 21:00
“Please fasten your seat belt, Miss, we are ready for take-off,” called the flight attendant. Only then Lara noticed that she was in fact on her feet.
She sat back down, looking straight ahead. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
“Hello, Lara,” said Daniel. He took the seat across the aisle from her.
Lara didn’t answer. She continued staring straight-ahead, trying to compose herself. Was this really happening? What was going on here?
“I thought you were in a Saudi jail,” she finally said, her voice shaking slightly.
“I was,” said Daniel. “Sort of”.
“Is this your lost friend?” asked Peter from the row behind Lara.
“I am Daniel Thompson,” said Daniel, as he turned back to shake Peter’s hand across the aisle. Peter shook Daniel’s hand silently, pressing it a little more than necessary.
“We were looking for you,” he then said. “In fact, one could say that we risked our lives, or at least our freedom, looking for you.”
The plane accelerated and shot off the runway, at a speed that seemed faster than usual for a commercial flight. Lara looked at Daniel, worried.
“We are very light, that’s all,” he said.
They were silent for a few moments, listening to the crackling noises as the plane climbed higher and higher towards the clouds.
“I guess I do owe you an explanation,” said Daniel suddenly.
“If not an apology,” said Peter from behind. Lara waited.
“I left you a letter,” said Daniel.
“The Saudi police told her the same thing, when they interrogated her at the airport yesterday,” Peter’s annoyed voice responded immediately. “She spent the night with the Saudi police thanks to you.”
Daniel sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You should be,” said Peter.
“I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” said Daniel.
“So what exactly did you mean to do?” asked Lara.
“It’s a long story, but the bottom line is that it’s done,” said Daniel.
“What’s done?” asked Lara.
“We have a formula for the vaccine,” said Daniel. “Maybe not the complete formula, but at least something that will help us work towards it rapidly.”
“We?” asked Lara.
“Yes, we. The Centres for Disease Control, the World Health Organization, the United States, the world.”
“Who are you working for?” asked Peter from behind.
Daniel didn’t answer.
“You’re not really a journalist, are you?” asked Lara.
“No,” said Daniel.
“Why am I not surprised?” asked the voice from behind. Daniel laughed.
The plane had now reached 28,000 feet and the seat-belt sign was turned off.
“We are now flying out of Saudi Arabia towards the Red Sea, heading for Egypt and the Mediterranean,” said the pilot’s voice over the PA system.
Many of the passengers had stretched themselves across the central rows, looking forward to a few hours of sleep after what had been a stressful few days for everyone evacuated from Riyadh.
Lara sat upright in her seat, wishing she had at least brushed her hair earlier and hoping that her short, violent, vomiting fit left no marks on her face or clothes.
Daniel relaxed in his own seat, while Peter took his shoes off and stretched his long legs into the aisle, making his presence felt to both Lara and Daniel, both in the row in front of him on either side of the aisle.
“So what do you do?” asked Lara, breaking the silence.
“I presently work for the Centres for Disease Control, the CDC,” said Daniel.
“Really?” asked Lara, surprised. Daniel nodded, smiling at her.
“Yes, really. I am a scientist by training,” he added.
“So why didn’t you just say so?” she asked, still annoyed.
“Because I was on a very specific mission,” he said.
“Which had to do with the same virus we were looking at?”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t a competition, you know,” said the voice from behind. “We’re all supposed to be working on the same side. Aren’t we?”
“I wasn’t competing with you, I was sent to find the source of the virus, just like I told you,” said Daniel to Lara, trying to ignore Peter’s toes in not-so-white socks, wiggling behind him.
“And you found it?”
“Fortunately for everyone, I believe we have found it.”
“What is it?” asked Lara, her voice full of doubt.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” said Daniel with a smile.
Peter snorted.
“I don’t believe I know your name,” said Daniel, turning towards Peter’s feet.
“Dr Peter Westfall,” said Peter.
“And what did I ever do to you, Dr Peter Westfall?”
“You mean, besides causing me to waste my time and energy looking for you, leading to my interrogation by the Saudi Police and missing our flight to London? Not much.” said Peter.
“Sorry about that,” said Daniel.
“You should be,” said Peter.
“Well, I suppose I do owe you some kind of explanation, maybe as much as I owe it to Lara.”
“Go ahead, then.” said Peter. Daniel hesitated.
“I suppose you’ll hear about this sooner or later anyway, and we do have another ten hours or so until we get to Washington,” he said.
Lara and Peter waited for him to continue.
“Although at this stage, it is still confidential information, and you’ll have to treat it as such,” said Daniel.
“We will,” said Lara.
“Ok,” said Daniel. “Here it goes.”
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