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protection, but the virus could also enter the body through the skin and sweat glands. That means to be truly protected, someone would have to be wearing a full biohazard suit.”
    Paulson clicked on the intercom. “Dr. Peebles?  President Paulson and Secretary Farrow here. We have a question for you.”
    Paulson had met the doctor just a few times in passing. She was a permanent member of the Air Force One staff, flying with the president or vice president on a regular basis.
    “How many gas masks and biohazard suits do we have on board?” he asked.
    “Sir, we have over a hundred gas masks on board, but there are only eight full biohazard suits that offer complete body containment.”
    “What? Why only eight?”
    “Mr. President, the simple answer is budget cuts. I asked for more, but the suits are expensive with those new Med-AIs built in. I was lucky to get eight per plane. I was able, however, to get the upgraded HEPA gas masks.”
    Shit . Paulson exchanged a long look with Farrow.
    There were sixty-seven people on board Air Force One tonight, not a full complement. Most who’d normally be on board had been in and around Washington watching the president’s speech. But eight bio-suits for sixty-seven people was not a number that Paulson wanted to hear.
    “Damn budget cuts,” he growled. “Very well then; we’ll have to make do with what we have.”
    “What are you planning, sir?” Dr. Peebles asked.
    “We’ll be landing soon and we’ll need to go from the airport to a base in the mountains. The trip in the snow, on icy roads, is going to take about a half hour. The base has a full decontamination facility, and we should be safe there. The problem is getting everyone from Air Force One to the facility while minimizing exposure to the virus.”
    “Well, the masks will filter the virus so that people can breathe without being infected,” she said. “The problem, however, lies with skin exposure.”
    “Dr. Peebles, would thick clothing covering the entire body offer enough protection?” Farrow asked.
    “It would be better than nothing,” she said.” If the clothing is thick enough and you have enough layers, then it would certainly prevent initial contact. But all casual clothing, even thick winter jackets, are breathable, meaning they let air pass through. Those air passages are small enough for a virus to get through eventually. Yet with enough layers, you’d at least buy yourself some time.”
    “How much time, Doctor, a half hour at least?” Paulson asked.
    “It’s hard to say, sir. It would depend on the type of material and the number of layers. We’re lucky that it’s winter, so many of us may have a lot of clothes with us. If it were summer, we’d have no chance.”
    Paulson wished someone could give him a straight and short answer just once this godforsaken day. He blew out a long breath, tamped down his temper, and asked, “So what do you recommend for maximum safety, Doctor?”
    “Tell everyone to wear every piece of clothing that they brought with them—gloves, scarves, jackets, boots, everything.”
    “I’m sure they have clothing in their bags in the hold. Would that be contaminated?” Paulson asked.
    “That part of the plane is not pressurized and the air isn’t filtered,” Farrow said.
    “If that’s the case,” Dr. Peebles said, “then all that clothing, if it hasn’t been contaminated already, will be when we land. No one can use it without being exposed to the virus.”
    “Thank you, Dr. Peebles, that will be all for now,” Paulson said.
    “Ah, sir . . . ” Dr. Peebles jumped in before Paulson could cut the intercom link. “About the eight bio-suits? Who’s going to get those?”
    Paulson and Farrow looked at each with steely eyes. They’d both made decisions with the lives of men and women in the balance. Both knew they’d have to do the same here.
    “We’ll be making that decision shortly, Doctor,” Paulson said.
    “Thank you, sir.” The