"She didn't." Ruka kept his voice steady, anchoring us both. "She was too deliberate. This wasn't about chaos. She wanted to choose who lived and who died."
Time stretched and contracted strangely as we waited. Then one of the suited figures emerged from Nadine's office, cradling a small metal box like it contained a beating heart. Biohazard tape crisscrossed its surface, and even through thethick protective gloves, the handler's movements screamed caution.
"Locked drawer," came the muffled report. "Mini refrigeration unit. Temperature-controlled storage."
Morrison moved forward, her entire body radiating tension. "Contents?"
"Single vial—empty." Each word from the respirator carried weight. "Requires transport to a BSL-4 facility for proper containment and analysis."
The hazmat team moved meticulously, sealing the box in multiple containment layers. I watched as they triple-bagged it, each layer going into progressively larger containers until the box disappeared into a reinforced transport case that looked like it could survive a nuclear blast.
"We're establishing a perimeter around the entire administrative wing," Morrison announced, her phone pressed to her ear as she coordinated with someone on the other end. "No one in or out until we've completed a full decontamination sweep."
More FBI agents arrived, flooding the hallway with their dark suits and serious faces. They began cordoning off Nadine's office with yellow tape, transforming it into a crime scene. The hazmat team swept every surface with detection equipment, their instruments beeping and whirring as they searched for any trace of contamination.
"Clear," one of them finally called out after hours of waiting. Hours of vending machine coffee and nacho cheese Doritos—which Ruka surprisingly enjoyed. "No airborne particles detected. No surface contamination outside the refrigeration unit."
Morrison's shoulders dropped slightly—the first sign of relief I'd seen from her. "She kept it contained, at least. Small mercies."
The team leader carrying the transport case nodded to Morrison. "We're moving it now. CDC's got a helicopter standing by."
We all stepped back as they made their way down the hallway, the case held between two handlers like a coffin for something that had never been alive but could still kill. The weight of what they carried seemed to press down on everyone in the corridor, making the air itself feel heavier.
Munroe turned to the remaining agents. "I want every file, every computer, every scrap of paper in that office cataloged and seized. If there is a way to tie the Human Preservation Coalition to this, I want it found."
Morrison watched the hazmat team disappear around the corner before turning back to us. The hard edges of her professional mask softened, just slightly. "Dr. Bennett. Chieftain Ruka." She paused, seeming to choose her words carefully. "If not for the two of you..." She shook her head. "We'd be looking at a very different situation right now. Possibly a catastrophic one."
Ruka's jaw tightened. "We lost four of our people."
"I know." Morrison's voice was quiet but firm. "And that's four too many. But without your help, Fletcher would still be in that office. Her cousin would still have access to the virus. They'd still be waiting for the next opportunity." She looked between me and Ruka, and I saw something in her eyes I hadn't expected—respect. "I'm sorry for what happened to your people. The system failed you."
"The system always fails the Orcs," I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.
"Maybe." Morrison didn't look away. "But today, two people chose to do the right thing anyway. That matters. It won't bring those you lost back, but it might save countless others." She extended her hand, first to Ruka, then to me. "Thank you. Both of you."
"Just make sure she never gets the chance to hurt anyone else," I said.
"You have my word on that," Morrison replied, then turned away from us to oversee the ongoing investigation.
Tammy emerged from around the corner, face drained of color, looking like she'd aged a decade in the past hour. But it was the man behind her who commanded the room's attention—silver-haired and distinguished in a dark suit that probably cost more than my rent, radiating the kind of authority that came from years of experience.
"Dr. Bennett." He extended his hand toward me, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. "Aaron Webb, CEO of Franklin Memorial." His gaze shifted to Ruka, and I steeled myself for the familiar cocktail of fear and revulsion. Instead, something unexpected flickered across his features—shame, raw and unvarnished. "And you must be Chieftain Ruka. I owe you both an apology. A profound apology."
My arms remained crossed, my hand conspicuously not reaching for his. "An apology?" My voice could have cut glass. "Your medical director just confessed to bioterrorism. To deliberately weaponizing smallpox against an Orc village. So tell me, Mr. Webb—how many people in this hospital knew what she was doing?"
His hand dropped to his side. "I didn't. God help me, I had no idea." The words came out rushed, desperate. "But ignorance isn't innocence, is it? This happened under my roof, on my watch, and that makes me complicit whether I knew or not." He turned back to Ruka, and this time he didn't flinch from meeting his eyes. "Chieftain Ruka, you and every Orc in this territory are welcome at Franklin Memorial. What Nadine did, what she believed—that poison ends here. Today."
"Words are cheap, Mr. Webb." Ruka's voice came out quieter than I expected, controlled when every instinct musthave been screaming to let the rage I knew he felt escape. "Your medical director tried to destroy my people. She said there were others—believers in her twisted cause. How do we know you're not one of them? How do we trust anyone here?"
"You don't." The admission seemed to cost him something. "Not yet. But I'm going to earn that trust back if it's the last thing I do. Outside investigators, complete transparency, new protocols from the ground up. And anyone—anyone—found to be involved in this conspiracy will face the full weight of the law." He pivoted back to me, and I saw calculation flash behind his eyes. "Dr. Bennett, I know Nadine terminated your employment, but I'd like to offer you the position of Medical Director. We need someone with your integrity to help us rebuild what she destroyed—"
"No." My response was immediate, flat as a slammed door.
Webb actually blinked. "I... you already have another position?"
"I'm opening a clinic." My voice softened, and when I glanced at Ruka, something warm bloomed in my chest. "In the Orc village. A place where people can receive care without fear. Without wondering if the hands treating them want them dead." I held Ruka's gaze for a heartbeat longer before turning back to Webb. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."
"If you change your mind," Webb offered.