"This is Doctor Seris." her voice came, muffled through the speaker. Rob suppressed a sigh of relief.<br/><br/>"Doctor, this is Sgt. Rhodes. I think we may have a situation."<br/><br/>This was a good phrase, he thought. "I think (personal opinion rather than fact) we may (pointing out that it was all rather uncertain) have a situation (not a state of alert, not an emergency, not a disaster - just a situation, which could be anything from a broken antenna to someone's cat drinking a vial labeled "HIGHLY TOXIC".) Drawing attention without causing panic. Because it could be anything, or even nothing. Surely not an...<br/><br/>Rob swallowed. His throat had gone dry and sore all of a sudden. He didn't want to finish the thought. "... an outbreak".<br/><br/>"Doctor, White Tower isn't responding. All lines are dead. I've been trying to reach anyone for over five minutes now. It could be just a technical problem but I figured you would like to know. I'll keep trying."<br/><br/>He could almost picture her mind pushing the alarm button. It was a button in everyone's head. Everyone was always edgy, always nervous, waiting for the Ferenzi virus to strike again. Hoping that it wouldn't. But somewhere deep within knowing that it will. Sooner or later.<br/><br/>And what made it worse - one of the first signs of an outbreak was always the dead phone lines.<br/><br/>He remained on the phone waiting for her answer.