1

She stared at the number splayed across the screen. Her pulse instantly quickened and she could feel the moisture building on her palms, causing her to almost drop her phone, as she struggled to take in what her eyes were telling her. Even though she had deleted his number six months ago, it seemed it was permanently imprinted on her memory. But why on earth was he suddenly calling now, after all this time? The temptation to answer was intense and her finger hovered over the key for a good few seconds, almost pressing down, almost inviting him back into her life. She couldn't help but acknowledge how much she wanted to hear his voice again. For a few brief seconds she allowed herself to imagine answering, hearing his sheepish apology, his confession that he had made a terrible mistake and how he wanted, needed her back in his life. But then she reminded herself of how three years ago he had just walked away without a single phone call, with zero explanation and of how she had found out the hard way that their partnership and friendship had obviously meant nothing to him, or at least not as much as she had believed it had. So she allowed the call to go to the answer machine.

He didn't leave a message.

Her mind raced with possible scenarios that could have led him to dialing her number. It was revealing in itself that he had kept it, although on reflection, it was highly possible he had mentally retained it in the same way she had his: they had been partners for over a decade after all. What could he have wanted? Why suddenly make contact now? Had something happened – to Kathy – to one of the children? She almost considered ringing him back at that thought, but she knew she couldn't. She had no desire to reopen old wounds. That man had hurt her more than she had known was even possible. She had moved on. She was happy. Life was pretty good in fact. Professionally she was making huge strides; her recent Sergeant's exam was a tremendous achievement, especially given how difficult it had been to sit down and concentrate on her books when her mind would so readily wander back to recent events and the upcoming trial. She had fought hard to focus on her goal, at times almost throwing in the towel, but ultimately her stubborn persistence had paid off. Moving in with her boyfriend had also been another huge step forward: for the first time in a long time she wasn't alone any more. It was a wonderful feeling. She had found herself thinking of her old partner less and less, particularly over the last year. Until Lewis anyway.

She decided the reason behind his sudden call would be something she would have to live with never knowing. Too much time had passed. She had no intention of going down that road again. Sighing, she replaced her phone in her pocket, unhooked the door and stepped out of the car, forcing herself to concentrate on the reason she had come down here. One of the working girls in the area had reported another rape the night before and the SVU was worried that the violent nature of this latest attack was a sign of a perp who was escalating. The last thing they wanted was another string of unsolved prostitute rape-murders tarnishing the area. She knew a couple of the girls from a separate recent case, so even though Amaro was out of the state attending a national police procedural course, she had decided to come down alone to talk to them and find out everything she could about this new threat.

The girls congregated on a main road that was fairly well lit, so it wasn't too disconcerting to come down without a partner. She could have asked one of the others, but they had seemed busy with their own cases. Besides she was determined to overcome her anxiety by facing it head on and get back to doing the job she loved, unhindered. There was only so long she could go around assuming there was a threat around every dark corner. At some point she had to trust in her abilities as a cop and overcome the fear. It wasn't easy and she knew she had been permanently changed by what had happened to her, but she preferred to think of it in terms of an evolution, not some kind of a regression. Every day was a tiny step forward, even the ones that didn't feel like it at the time.

"Hello ladies," she greeted the trio she ran into first. Two of them suddenly began looking extremely nervous, glancing around as though seeking an escape route. Olivia guessed she had been sussed immediately. These girls seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to cops. The taller older looking girl was Maya, she remembered. She had gotten quite friendly with her a few months ago when they had been investigating a notorious pimp in the area, who was now awaiting trial for trafficking and drug offences.

"Hey Olivia," the young woman said returning a friendly smile. "She's alright," she said, addressing her peers who still looked nervous.

Olivia glanced at Maya sadly. Her attire gave no doubt as to her profession. Her large DD boobs were barely covered and her PVC skirt was so short, Olivia was certain that should she bend even slightly her underwear would be on view. She knew the girl was barely twenty, yet she already looked at least ten years older than that. Life on the streets was harsh.

"I want to ask you a few questions about a guy we are looking for," she said turning her attention to the case at hand.

"That creep who beat up Sherrie?" one of the other girls asked quickly. Olivia turned to face her full on, not recognizing her, but immediately conscious of the fact that she looked barely fourteen. She longed to question her, but now wasn't the time. It was important she gained these girls' trust if she was to help get a dangerous man off the streets.

"Yeah," she replied. "Have you seen him? Can you give me a description?"

"No I haven't, but I think Anna has."

"Anna?"

"She's over there."

Olivia looked to where she was pointing down the street and saw a couple of dark haired girls chatting to a man who had just pulled up in a grey sedan.

"Thanks. I'll just go and have a chat with Anna. I'll be back to talk to you girls again later. Stay safe, okay?!"

"Thanks," they chorused.

Predictably the sedan sped off the second she approached. Ignoring her instincts to want to apprehend and drag the creep down to the station, she instead stepped closer to the girls, asking which one was Anna.

"I'm An.." one of them admitted shyly, but she was immediately cut off by the sound of screeching breaks, followed by a loud skidding noise. Olivia spun around just in time to see a white van mount the sidewalk across the street, crashing straight into a girl who had been standing there, knocking her to the ground. The two girls gasped as the van skidded, coming to a stop against the wall, steam immediately beginning to rise from the smashed bonnet.

Reacting instantly, Olivia reached for her radio and called it in, requesting a bus as she rushed across the road to see what she could do to help.

As she approached and was able to see the dark skinned girl more closely, she could see she was bleeding quite heavily from her head. She knelt down beside her, unhooked her scarf from around her neck, folded it quickly and then pressed it down hard against the young girl's scalp to stem the bleeding. It was obvious she was also working the streets going by her attire and the fact that this was hooker's central.

"Hi, I'm Olivia. I'm a police officer. You're going to be okay," she told her.

She seemed confused and began to try and get to her feet, but Olivia laid a hand gently on her shoulder and told her to remain where she was until the ambulance arrived. There was no telling what other injuries she might have sustained and the importance of not moving road traffic victims was something that even the greenest of rookies had drilled into them. Her thoughts went to the driver of the van and she glanced towards it, just in time to see a young white male clambering down.

"Hey you!" she called out. "Are you injured? An ambulance is on its way."

"Nah, I'm fine," he drawled. She looked at him sharply. His speech seemed slurred and his eyes unfocused.

"You need to be checked out anyway," she insisted, trying to bury her rising anger. DUIs were all too common and it seemed it was always an innocent bystander who suffered the consequences. "Don't even think about running. I'm a cop."

"What's your name?" she asked the girl, turning her attention back to the victim as soon as she satisfied herself that the van driver was going to stay put.

"Eunice," she replied. "Eunice Ngouabi."

"Where are you from Eunice?" she asked, immediately suspecting that this girl might have been brought in illegally given her young age and her thick accent which Olivia could only place as likely being from somewhere in Africa.

"The Congo," she replied nervously. Olivia nodded. She had met plenty of young women from that part of the world and sadly many of them a terrifying and tragic tale to tell. She wondered what hell this girl had been through only to be brought here and forced into this life of prostitution.

"I'm going to help you Eunice," she said and she determined she would do everything in her power to make sure that involved more than just patching up the wounds from the accident.

"I don't feel good," the girl said. Olivia looked at her in alarm as she realised the girl was shivering. In fact come to think of it she did seem warm, feverish in fact. Her limited medical training told her that blood loss could lead to shock, but this seemed to be something else.

It was with relief that she greeted the ambulance crew who had finally turned up.

"This is Eunice. She was knocked down by that white van. She says she doesn't feel well."

"She's burning up! She must be sick," the lead EMT stated.

"How long have you been feeling unwell Eunice?" the second guy asked.

"Since yesterday," the girl replied miserably.

"OK, well we're going to get you to the hospital."

"Thank you."

"You riding along?"

Olivia nodded, reaching for her phone to ring Fin and let him know. He and Amanda were on the way to the scene, so she knew he would be able to drive her car back for her.

A couple of hours later

"Miss Benson, we need you to come this way."

"Why?" she asked, staring in alarm at the masked and gowned doctor, following him as he led her away from the main waiting room and down the corridor.

"It's about the patient you brought in Eunice Ngouabi. We believe she has contracted some kind of respiratory virus. Her symptoms are severe, so we have isolated her."

"Right," Olivia said calmly. She had been through her fair share of flus, coughs and colds before, so wasn't overly worried.

"Initially we suspected flu, but over the last twenty minutes the patient has begun to break out in a very distinctive rash. Until we can confirm what this is we need to take every precaution. People are jittery after recent global outbreaks."

"You think it could be something like SARS?" Olivia said incredulously.

"No we don't believe it's a coronovirus."

"Then what do you suspect, doctor?"

"I really can't say for sure until the tests confirm it. If it is what we fear, then we will have a serious international incident on our hands. We have already notified the CDC and officials are on their way. Due to the nature of our suspicions, we cannot take any chances. You, the ambulance crew, the staff who first attended the patient, anyone who has been in contact with her, you all need to be quarantined, effective immediately. We will be closing the ER until it can be thoroughly disinfected and redirecting all new patients to alternative hospitals. I'm taking you to our high security isolation wing. Since you attended to the patient and administered first aid, we believe you are at a significantly higher risk of infection and I have been instructed to quarantine you until the CDC officials get here and can assess the situation."

"Come on doctor, if you are quarantining me, then surely I have a right to know what for exactly?" She was still finding it difficult to really grasp the extent of what the man was telling her.

"You don't understand. If this gets out… there will be panic, pandemonium even."

Olivia stared at the doctor, her stomach in knots. Whatever it was, this was obviously way more significant than anything she had imagined.

"Please doctor, tell me," she begged.

"In here," he instructed her, directing her into the room but not following her inside. Remove your clothes please and place them in the plastic bag provided." He indicated towards the gown that had been placed on the bed.

"Seriously?" she asked, staring around the sterile room in dismay. This couldn't be happening.

"Everything, including your underwear…" the doctor instructed her.

"May I at least have some privacy to get changed?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry. Legally I need to visually confirm that every item of your clothing has been removed. I'm sorry. I could ask a female member of staff to attend if you prefer."

Anxiously she nodded, watching him as he reached for his bleeper.

"How long will I have to stay here?" she asked meekly. This was unbelievable. Surely it couldn't be anything that bad? What were they looking at? Flashes of scenes from an old movie she had once seen came into her head and she tried to recall the specific name of the infectious disease that had featured in that. She remembered seeing the blood trickling from the patient's mouths. She could feel her throat constricting as she imagined a fate as terrifying as that for herself, the mere thought dizzying.

"We're not sure yet. Once the blood test results come back, we will know more."

"How is Eunice doing then?" Maybe a different tack would reveal something useful?

"She is extremely ill. We've determined she was only brought into the country less than a week ago. It seems more than likely she contracted this virus back in her home country. The CDC is going to have their work cut out for them locating all those who have been placed at risk."

"Please doctor. Tell me what it is you suspect. I need to know. I can handle it. I'm a police officer." She knew it was a long-shot, but it might help convince this guy to fill her in.

He regarded her soberly for a moment and then with a reluctant sigh he spoke.

"If this gets out, they will have my head, but I'm actually one of those who believe that people have a right to know what they are potentially facing. I'm afraid, Miss Benson, given the distinctive nature of the rash; it seems almost inevitable that the results will confirm our suspicions."

"Which is?" she asked, frustration causing her tone to come out sharper than she had intended.

"Smallpox."

Gasping, Olivia sank heavily onto the bed. They had all been warned of the terrorism potential with this virus. Vaccinations had long been discontinued in the USA after the disease had been confirmed eradicated worldwide. Its return had always seemed more like something that would appear in a sci-fi movie rather than anything they would ever likely come into contact with in real life.

"My God!" she breathed in disbelief.

"I think you understand the seriousness of the situation," the doctor said gravely.

Her face pale, Olivia nodded. She felt nauseous, sick to the stomach. The implication was that somebody had somehow deliberately infected people with the disease and if Eunice had brought it into the USA, there was no telling where else it might have spread. Worst-case scenario they could be looking at a potential world pandemic. It was too horrifying to even contemplate.