CHAPTER 20
WELL, THAT WAS no luxury jet. I stood on the tarmac at Dobbins Air Reserve Base staring up at a huge, drab grey monstrosity. Soldiers bustled around a ramp at the back, loading crates and boxes into the gaping belly of the aircraft.
A tap on my shoulder made me leap out of my skin.
“Sorry, ma’am,” a man in fatigues said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I tried to slow my rapid breathing into something resembling normal. “It’s okay—I’m a bit jumpy today. Do I need to get on the airplane?”
“Please, ma’am. We’re almost ready to take off.”
Without me asking, he wheeled my suitcase as we walked to the back of the plane, and I followed him up the ramp. The entire centre aisle was taken up by equipment, box after box of it. DuPont for the hazmat suits. NuAire for the biosafety cabi
