ViraVax by Bill Ransom

A yellow biplane touched down, then climbed back up to come around again.
    A red-faced blonde woman walked up from the middle shed to meet them, and only when she stepped out of shadow did Harry recognize Sonja Bartlett’s mother, Nancy.
    “Hello, Grace,” Nancy said, extending a hand that lately had seen a lot of physical work. “I guess it’s ‘Patricia,’ now that we’ve made you a Canadian.”
    “Hello, Nancy. I haven’t told Harry . . .”
    “‘James,’” Nancy corrected. “At least, for a few days he’s my Canadian nephew, James.”
    Nancy shook Harry’s hand, then stepped back to look at what his father had done to him. Harry didn’t like the darkness that crossed her face, nor the blaze in her eyes.
    “The sonofabitch,” Nancy muttered.
    She shook her head as though to wake herself and smiled. Her moment of fury and disorientation was not lost on Harry.
    She’s been through a lot worse than I have, Harry reminded himself.
    People still talked about the break-in and the murder. Harry heard from one of the junior officers that she’d been raped as well. Her father, the U.S. Speaker of the House, vowed annihilation of the group responsible. No one took this threat seriously. The U.S. had all it could handle right at home.
    Harry resolved to stay quiet, wait and watch what his mother and Nancy Bartlett had in mind.
    Nancy quizzed him briefly on the information on his new passport and Harry answered her in Spanish.
    “Remember,” she said, “don’t let them—”
    “—know how much Spanish I speak. I know.”
    “He’ll be fine,” Nancy told Grace. “If you two have to run, your papers are in order, including inoculation cards. Family and coffee-buyers fly in and out of here, and the Marcoes are always on the up-and-up. You can stay here, then fly out later if that’s what you have to do. The customs inspector comes here when they fly the coffee out. He’ll sign off your cards, if it comes to that. The coffee’s going to Mexico City.
    “If worse comes to worst and you have to run, tickets will be waiting for you at Pan Am in Mexico City. Then to Vancouver, Canada, with a change of planes in Los Angeles. Canadian money isn’t tagged, so it won’t be traced until you change into dollars. My sister will meet you in Vancouver. Don’t worry. It’s all covered, you can relax now.”
    Harry’s mother had fooled him, too.
    She must have arranged this . . . weeks ago. Maybe months.
    Nancy and Sonja Bartlett hadn’t lived out here all that long. Still, he’d always believed his mother’s thoughts and motives to be transparent. Harry was both amused and relieved to find out otherwise.
    That yellow biplane drew a lazy figure-eight against the bright blue sky over the airstrip. It pretended to be a falling leaf, then swooped into a slow, spiraling climb.
    The three of them began their dusty walk up to the house. Nancy was asking his mother how the fight started.
    “This time it was so ridiculous. . . .” His mother faltered, something Harry had seldom seen. “Vaccination. It was time for Harry to get his vaccinations. You’ve seen the hot ones in that compound at La Ceiba? They’re all over this country and it’s nothing to fool with. The Colonel refused, and the Garcia government said, ‘No shots, no visa.’ Rico went into one of his rages. This time he got after Harry, too, and there was no stopping him. . . .”
    Harry’s mother couldn’t finish and Nancy patted her shoulder, her expression grim.
    “The rest I suppose you’ve heard,” Grace said.
    Nancy nodded, then took Grace’s arm and guided them through the screened porch and into the house.
    “Shouldn’t you handle this back home?” Nancy asked. “Down here, it’s his country and anything could happen.”
    “My life is here, too,” Grace said. “Harry’s lived here all his life, and I’ve spent my whole adulthood here. I’m not going to let anyone run me off. Isn’t that what you decided, too?”
    Nancy poured