+18 - eps 22-27 - A case takes Russell and Brock to the brink of death. It'll be up to Gillian and the team to rescue them before they're killed by a white supremacist militia. And in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, the threat of a bio attack fo...
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At the inn, Russell found the team had everything covered. So he went upstairs with Aldana, and she told him about Gillian's plan for next morning while he changed his jeans for a swimming trunk. Back to the 101, Ron gave him the last glass of wine from dinner and Aldana retrieved her beer.
"Oh, man! I do owe you!" Russell sighed, tasting the cold white wine. "Hey, T, can I take a look at the subject's file?"
Tanya nodded, beer to her lips, and pointed at a tablet across the table.
"I got it," said Aldana.
Kurt frowned when Russell and Aldana headed out, drinks, tablet and each other in hand. "Hey, didn't you get your own room?"
"Poker starts in ten," said Fred. "By the pool."
The other two just ignored them. They sat together at one of the tables and Russell took a moment to flick through the file on the tablet. Then he made a call.
Brock was driving, so he used his turn to give Gillian his phone. She picked up on speaker.
"Hey, man. Bet you and Reg are gonna keep a night watch on the subject's house."
"Winter's coming, Russ," Gillian said. "The CDC don't want us in. But if she sets foot out her door, she's ours."
"Any new cases?" asked Brock.
"No," Aldana replied. "But the medics agree that we should expect more in the morning."
"Did you see the subject's file, Coleman?"
"I'm looking at it as we speak." Russell went back to page one. "Sarah Browning, forty-five, she went back to her maiden name, Murray, when she moved here from Atlanta in late 2010. Divorced, only one son... who died in 2014..."
"We've been doing some digging around," said Aldana.
"Who did you contact?" asked Gillian.
"Fred talked to his ex-husband and Ron to her former boss. Turns out Sarah's son, Jesse, was only six back in 2009, when he started having violent mood shifts. Looks like the psychiatric explanation wasn't enough for Sarah and she tested Jesse's blood herself for every known disease."
"And she diagnosed the BVD," said Brock, an eye on the GPs as he drove.
"Yes, in 2010. Then she quit and moved to Savannah. Her marriage was already crumbling because of her obsession over Jesse's condition. So Jesse's father stayed behind in Atlanta. But he kept in touch with them while Jesse was alive, and provided for them so Sarah didn't need to work."
"What does he know about her years here?" asked Brock.
"Sarah devoted her life to taking care of Jesse and finding a cure for him. She conducted all her research at a small lab at her home."
"But she didn't find the cure," said Gillian. "When did Jesse die?"
"Late 2014," Russell replied. "Fatal encephalitis. He was only ten."
"And she invested last year in creating this new strain," said Brock.
"She ain't gonna like the news, guys," said Russell.
"You mean the authorities removing the sodas from all the stores?" asked Aldana.
Russell nodded, grimacing. "And her picture on TV."
"You think she's gonna lash out," said Gillian.
"Yeah. And move to her end game."
Gillian looked up at Brock, her scowl screaming, 'tell me I'm wrong'. He arched his eyebrows—she was right.
"Infect as many people as she can before going down," she muttered.
"But we should be able to stop her from doing it," argued Aldana. "We're arresting her first thing tomorrow..."
"Unless she's already delivered a whole shipment of tampered goods," said Gillian.
"They don't need to be soda cans," said Brock.
"Shit," grunted Russell. "Let's hope we're wrong. Have fun, guys. Call us if you need anything."
Aldana waited for him to disconnect. "Call us? What can they possibly need from us tonight?"
Russell shrugged and sipped his wine, amused. "Maybe an excuse not to talk to each other?"
Aldana rolled her eyes. "Hate to admit you could be right."
"I always am."
"Oh, shut up."
As they talked, the team came out of the 101, Hank included. He'd already run the tests on all the blood samples, and the ones from the autopsy would be complete in the morning. He and Ron took over the table left with cards and a case of poker chips, while Fred dived into the swimming pool and Kurt was left to put some order in the room.
Fred swam the whole length of the pool several times, then rested by the edge, where Tanya sat with her feet in the water. Ron's whistles made them look up, to see Russell tug Aldana's hand to make her sit on his lap. Kurt came out then with a six-pack.
"We're ready for you, Morris!" called Ron.
"I better go kick their asses," said Fred.
"One day somebody's gonna beat you, y'know?" Tanya said.
"That somebody isn't born yet, T. Unless you wanna try your luck."
Tanya chuckled, shaking her head. Then she killed her beer and let herself slide into the water, as Fred reached the side by the tables in three strokes. When he climbed out of the water, a flash blinded him.
"What the heck?" he grunted. Then he spotted Hank, phone in hand, ready to take another picture of him. "Sorry, Doc, but I'm way outta your league," he said, heading to their table.
Hank scoffed. "You wish. This is your phone. I thought Anna would appreciate this lovely shot of you working hard."
The others laughed at Fred's scowl. "That's foul game."
