Chapter 3

Brazzaville, 2:00 a.m.

The front desk of the hotel where they were staying was empty and the only source of light were a couple of lamps at the living room. Andrew walked towards the couch and took a seat, heavily leaning over his back and sighing. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his thumbs.

"How many?" Adam asked taking a seat beside him a couple of minutes later.

"27... you?"

"30." They remained silent for some minutes, then the older angel of death said, "I can't believe this is happening! That many a day?"

"Yeah... I know..." Andrew replied with a sad voice.

"I wonder how long will it take for Monica to send the help we need."

"I hope she doesn't have to come," the blond angel said firmly, and looking at Adam he added, "I don't want to see her suffering, Adam, and this is so, so hard. I want to see her again, but I don't want her to watch this. You know her, her heart would break in pieces."

"You're right..." Adam conceded. "This is too much for anyone. But you're dying to know when you'll see her again..."

"Of course," Andrew replied quickly. "I need her now more than ever. It's just that..." he sighed, "that I feel this is the hardest assignment the Father has given me! I mean... some have been really hard... wars, bombs, natural disasters, but this time these people know they are bleeding to death, they know their insides are melting into nothing but blood, and we can't do anything, not even to ease their pain! I look into their eyes and all I can see is a silent prayer for death to come as soon as possible and... I... I am praying with them for it to happen, Adam! How can I...?! What kind of an angel am I...?!"

"I understand you, Andrew..." Adam said in a calm voice. "Because I feel the same way."

"Days, weeks... how long will it be?"

Adam just shook his head and sighed. Then he checked his watch. "It's just 7:00 p.m. in Washington. You can talk to her."

Feeling his heart too heavy with sorrow, he stood up and walked to his room barely murmuring a "Good night" to his partner.

Washington – 7:00 p. m.

Monica walked into her office and stood in front of the window, absentmindedly looking to the dark city in front of her. She couldn't believe what was happening: in a matter of hours, she had 15 people admitted, all with the possibility of being infected as they had had contact either with Mike, his teacher or the flight attendant. "Father," she prayed closing her eyes, a couple of big tears rolling over her cheeks, "please help me understand what Your plan is here because right now I can't figure it out..." The ring of the phone interrupted her and she picked it up. "Yes?"

"You have a call from Brazzaville," the receptionist told her.

Monica felt her heart jumping with joy. 'Andrew!' she thought. "Yes, put it on line." She waited until the call was connected. "H-hello?" she asked somehow uncertain.

"Hello, sweetheart," said the familiar male voice, though this time it was clearly sad.

"Andrew..." she could say before a sob broke her voice.

"I guess your day was pretty hard, huh?" he added, his heart feeling sadder with the tone of her voice. "Bad news with Robert?"

"He doesn't even want to talk!" Monica choked. "He ran away! He hasn't come back to see his wife or his son! He refuses to believe this is happening and he has even forbidden me to talk to the press!"

"Forbidden you?"

"He thinks we can handle everything here, but he hasn't come back so he doesn't know..."

"He doesn't know what, Monica?" the blond angel asked fearing something really serious.

The Irish angel sighed. "He doesn't know we have two more cases and I have had to admitted other 15 people with symptoms..."

"You mean you have 18 Ebola cases already there?!" he shouted standing up quickly. "In one day?!" He hardly heard the tiny "yes" that was Monica's reply. "Oh, Father, what are we going to do?!"

"How many do you have there, Andrew?" she managed to ask.

He pondered the possibility of not telling her the truth, of hiding it, of hang up the phone to spare her the worry he knew she'd get, but finally he spoke. "Honey... we don't know... Only Adam and I took 57 people Home today..." Andrew heard the noise of her chair and she starting to sob, and his heart ached with the need to be by her side and hold her close. He knew her, he knew how impotent she should be feeling knowing so many people were dying and she could do nothing to stop it. "Angel..." he finally murmured.

"I'm not prepared for this, Andrew!" she exclaimed and surprised him. "I'm not ready to hold in my hands the lives of so many and know they are slipping away through my fingers and I can't do a single thing to help! This is too difficult! I'm not the right angel for this!" she was openly crying now and she wanted nothing more but to be with him and feel his strong arms circling her body, protecting her, his hands stroking her hair and soothing her soul in the process.

"Nonsense, baby!" he gently admonished her though he really meant it. "God knows you're the right angel for this, that's why He put you there! I... I was doubting myself that I could be useful here, but now, hearing you questioning what I was questioning too, makes me see He was right. We have to go over our pain and our fear and help Him to help them. You can do it, angel girl. Just remember the Father never gives you a task you can't accomplish. He will never ask you to do something impossible."

Brazzaville, 8:00 a.m.

"Sam!" Andrew exclaimed at seeing his formal supervisor. 'This can't be good' he thought.

"Nice to see you, Andrew," the dark skinned angel said. "It's been quite a long..."

"What are you doing here? I mean... It's obvious this is a mess but..."

"I know," Sam said placing his hand over the blond angel's shoulder and walking with him. "This time I came with some good news, boy. The World Health Organization had ordered to send help here. They are arriving day after tomorrow."

"Thanks, God!!!" Andrew almost shouted. "That's great! So Monica got her job done?"

"I'm afraid no and the help is not what we expected. They are only sending five doctors and some supplies, but none of the experts of the CDC's. I heard Monica got some trouble in Washington..."

"Three confirmed cases, 15 suspicious... Sam, the more I think, the less I can find a solution or a way to stop it! What can we do?"

"Go meet Jack and the others for a start is a good idea. We have a plan and they are waiting for us. When was the last time you went out camping?"

"Camping?!" Andrew asked surprised. "Camping like what?" he added feeling that marshmallows and a bonfire wasn't exactly what Sam had in mind.

"Camping like spending a good week or so sleeping under the stars... without the marshmallows," the supervisor told him reaching for the door of the hospital.

Washington, 7:00 a.m.

Monica was walking along the corridor with a big cup of coffee in her hands. She had spent the night watching over her patients and admitting five more, and she felt that her human form really needed the caffeine this time. She felt tired and sleepy, and that was not a normal feeling for her.

"Hang on a sec," the little angel heard a nurse telling someone on the phone when she passed by the nurses station of the infectology ward. "Dr. Monica, it's for you!"

Monica took the phone wishing it was Andrew again. It was strange for her to have to use the phone to talk to him but at the moment she would take what she could have... "Hello?"

"You're exhausted, I can say that," the blond angel told her as soon as he heard her voice. "I guess you didn't take a rest last night and now you have a big cup of coffee right beside you."

"Touchée!" she chuckled feeling like a little girl caught with her hands on her mom's make-up. "Good morning, sweetheart," she greeted.

"I guess Tess is too busy this time to be concerned about your caffeine level," he was trying to joke but the concern in his voice betrayed him.

"How are you doing?" Monica asked now seriously.

"Sam's here," Andrew told her at once. "He came with a special commission from the WHO. They are sending some doctors, but not exactly what we need."

"I will contact Robert today. He has to know about the new cases I got at night."

"While that happens, baby, I have something to tell you..." he announced. "I... hum... We are going to the town where it all began. It's at the end of the jungle, right where the big savanna starts. There's no phone there so I won't be able to call... Jack and Sam think monkeys can be the source of infection and we're going to find out..."

A big fear set in Monica's heart at hearing this. She didn't know why but she had a bad feeling about the trip. "Please, don't go," she said automatically, "don't go, Andrew!"

"Monica, you know I have no choice. I have to go... I don't like this more than you do, but we have to do all we can, you right there and me right here."

"Please, take care. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. I miss you," she said slowly and he smiled immediately.

"I miss you too, angel girl," he told her quietly. "I promise I'll be back as soon as possible... I so want to hold you..."

"So do... I... A... A... Achoo!" she tried to reply.

"Bless you!" Andrew said automatically before realizing what was strange in the situation: had Monica just sneezed? "Did you sneeze?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah... it seems so," the little angel answered surprised too. "I guess I'm really tired this time," she tried to sound cheerful but Andrew wasn't about to joke.

After a long second of silence, the blond angel asked, "Monica, you are taking all the precautions, aren't you?"

7