EMERGENCY ACTION!
Brickell glanced to the side of the room. Urging her to wrap things up, Julian gave her his most subtle cut sign.
“I have time for one more question,” she said.
Before she could recognize anybody, an uninvited voice asked, “Is there any possibility GNS is an act of biological terrorism?”
Her eyes found the young woman in the center of the room who had asked the question. She had no clue who she was, but she didn’t feel she could use her refusal to follow proper protocol as a way of dismissing the extremely valid question.
“All possibilities will be carefully evaluated,” she was careful to answer. “But at this time, we have no evidence that GNS is the result of a biological weapon.” Brickell took two short steps backward. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to stop here. I encourage all of you to refer to our website for the exact date and time of our next briefing.”
She turned away from the lectern, and with Julian in tow, she quick-walked out of the briefing room.
“Excellent job,” he told her. “Especially that last question.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your responses were honest and on point. I’m sure they helped to diminish the anxiety of an impending crisis.”
Brickell was well aware that part of Julian’s job was to contain prickly situations and curry favor with her regardless of how difficult the situation seemed. But today, his fairy-tale optimism was over the top.
“Julian, we’re dealing with a potentially devastating disease that’s spreading out of control. To make matters worse, it’s selectively attacking pregnant women, one of any society’s most vulnerable groups.” She looked at him as if he should know better. “What did you call it—‘an impending crisis’? This crisis is hardly impending. It has a large gray fin, is finished circling, and just about ready to bite us all on the ass.”