As soon as Southeastern’s administrative team realized the GNS outbreak was a major threat to public health, they set up a command crisis center in their executive boardroom. The IT department moved quickly to fit the room with a dozen computer stations and a sophisticated teleconference system.
Jack was seated at one of the stations reviewing the latest patient information posted on the National GNS Data Record when his phone rang.
“I just got off the phone with Helen Morales,” Madison said in a shaky voice. “She asked us to meet her at her office in half an hour.”
“What’s going on?” be asked, checking his watch.
“It seems Helen called the surgeon general to brief her on Isabella Rosas’s surgery. Dr. Brickell then called the president to update him. He told her he wants to talk to us personally about her condition.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“We should probably take the call right here, that way we’ll have all the information at our fingertips and we—”
“He wants to talk to us in person, Jack.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The president of the United States wants to have a face-to-face with us tonight.”
“He’s coming here?”
“No. At Homestead Air Reserve Base.”
“Why Homestead?”
“Because he called us from Air Force One and that’s where they’ll be landing in just over an hour.”