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The Boss Assignment

Victoria Paige

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

Bonus: On the trail of a bioweapon

Afterword

Connect with the Author

Also by Victoria Paige

Copyright ยฉ 2021 by Victoria Paige

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, places, events, organization either are a product of the authorโ€™s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, places or locale is entirely coincidental. The publisher is not responsible for any opinion regarding this work on any third-party website that is not affiliated with the publisher or author.

Edited by: edit LLC

Content Editor: Edit Sober

Proofreader: A Book Nerd Edits

Prologue

Nine months earlier

Charlotte Bennett sat back on a swivel chair and did her usual stretches to ward off stiffness in her shoulder and neck muscles. Hunched for six hours in front of a microscope analyzing cell samples could be tough on the body.

Not that she would complain.

After a year of vying for one of two coveted research scientist positions under Doctor August Leighโ€”a prominent CDC virologistโ€”she was finally accepted onto his team.

She was proud to have achieved this on her own. Not with the help from influential friends because of her motherโ€™s family name.

And most especially not with the help from dear old dad.

And best of all? She was exactly where she needed to be.

At the newly constructed Biosafety Level 4 (BSL-4) lab of the CDC in Los Angeles.

There were only a few of its kind in the United States and in the world. Tasked to analyze some of the planetโ€™s deadliest and most exotic pathogens, this particular lab was outfitted with the latest in bioengineering technology.

Even with all the cutting-edge instruments, this current virus puzzled her.

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to her partner at the lab, Dr. Sandra Evans. Her colleague was busy depositing the virus cultures with administered candidate vaccine into a temperature-controlled containment unit.

โ€œDr. Evans, can you come here a second?โ€

The other doctor walked over. โ€œStill showing an anomaly?โ€

โ€œYes. The spike proteins of this newer sample show a difference.โ€

Charly scooted back on her swivel stool to give the scientist room. โ€œHave a look. Left one is current; right one is from a week ago.โ€

Sandra peered into the microscope.

The Z-91 cells on the glass slide were a weaponized version of the Zaire Ebola virus. It couldnโ€™t have mutated that quickly from the version ingested by Raul Ortega, could it? The crime lord deliberately infected himself with Z-91 for revenge against the LAPD and to cause fear in Los Angeles. From what Charly had gathered, it took amazing detective work to capture the elusive criminal.

As her patient, he was being kept on the same level as the lab to minimize contagion exposure. Though her beliefs prevented her from the many ways she wanted to torture the man, she had little remorse in using Ortega as a human pin cushion.

Do no harm.

A muscle twisted at the center of her chest as a memory from long ago echoed in her head. But she was an expert in coping, an expert at shutting out feelings that could make her vulnerable.

Plus, her work as a virologist kept her busy.

Sandra straightened from viewing the cell samples. โ€œYouโ€™re right. Their spikes are different. The ones on the right are more prominent. Have you sent your findings to Dr. Leigh?โ€

โ€œYes. But he hasnโ€™t responded.โ€

โ€œDoes that mean itโ€™s less transmissible?โ€ Sandra asked. โ€œLess capable of attachment to the host cell?โ€

โ€œIn theory, thatโ€™s what I think, but thatโ€™s what is confusing me if the mutation was deliberate since this is a bioweapon.โ€

โ€œI agree.โ€ Her colleague sighed. โ€œIโ€™m about done here. Ready to go?โ€

Charlyโ€™s stomach rumbled and she nodded. It was eight. Yep, she needed to eat.

Both of them tidied their work areas. Working in a BSL-4 lab, they were required to work in tandems to allow cross-check and avoid deadly mistakes in the lab. Both of them stepped into a chemical shower, letting the spray disinfect their positive pressure suits. The last step was their own personal shower before emerging from the lab. Sandra pointed at the opposite direction Charly was heading. โ€œIโ€™m parked on the third level. Iโ€™ll use the skyway.โ€

Charly waved her off and checked her messages. Strange that Dr. Leigh hadnโ€™t responded. She would think he would be interested in her findings. Or maybe he thought she was an overeager research scientist with something to prove. Sheโ€™d been here only a few months after all. Charly didnโ€™t need to be patted on the head or be told she was doing a good job. What she wanted was to be taken seriously.

Her car was under the covered ground-level parking beside the CDC entrance. Her annoyance at Dr. Leigh quickly faded and was replaced by thoughts of getting the biggest burger at her favorite drive through.

Maybe Charly should have noticed the missing guard in the reception area.

Perhaps, she should have been more suspicious seeing Dr. Leigh waiting for her beside her car. Charly shouldnโ€™t have ignored her instincts when her boss was suddenly chatty about the email she sent him.

Mutated viruses werenโ€™t typical parking lot conversation.

Especially when it involved a notorious crime lord.

Maybe she should have ditched her boss and run back into the CDC.

Then, probably, she wouldnโ€™t have ended up in the mess she was in now.

1

Present

This canโ€™t be happening again.

Dust trails obscured the back of the Land Rover as it moved further and further away from Charly. And with it, the chance of getting out of this hellhole.

Sheโ€™d been too shocked to

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