ARES Virus: Arctic Storm (30 page)

USAMRIID, Maryland

September 26

Colonel Koenig scrolls through another listing outside of Colorado Springs. The incident at Pineville and the stress it created brought the thought of early retirement that had been passing through his mind from time to time to the forefront. It’s not that his career was negatively affected in any way. As a matter of fact, his chances of receiving a star might actually have improved, but the experience has been draining. His wife has more than hinted that they should retire to a quiet out-of-the-way place with land. Having spent the past twenty-four years in the military and dealing with some of the nastiest viruses ever imagined, both man-made and natural, perhaps it is time for a change.

A knock at the door draws his attention from perusing the property listings. At his “Enter,” Major Skier slips through the door and approaches.

“Sir. I thought you might want to see this,” Skier states, sliding a piece of paper across the desk. “I picked it up from an AP news wire.”

Koenig scans the paper and notes that it’s a news report of a small flu outbreak.

“So, what of it? It’s a flu outbreak. That’s CDC business,” Koenig replies.

“Look closer at the location. That’s what piqued my interest,” Skier says.

Rereading the news, he sees that fourteen people have been hospitalized with the flu in Springfield.

“Okay. It’s still the flu,” Koenig responds, his eyes narrowing as he’s obviously missing something. He’s known Skier for many years, and he’s not one to make something out of nothing. However, he likes to draw things out so you have to follow the same path he took in order to arrive at the same conclusion. Sometimes, Koenig wishes that he would just say what he had to say from the very beginning. “What am I missing here?”

“Springfield is only eighteen miles north of Pineville. And, I checked, it’s the only outbreak of its kind across the nation,” Skier states.

“I see what you’re trying to get at, Major. You’re trying to link this to ARES. But flu symptoms and what ARES does are worlds apart. One doesn’t come into contact with ARES and then report to a hospital. We both know that,” Koenig replies. “So, what are you getting at, major?”

Deep down, Koenig feels troubled. His stomach clenches with returning anxiety. He knew exactly what Skier was alluding to from the moment he read the wire, but he wants nothing more than to distance himself from anything regarding ARES. Although it was his project, the experience of Pineville has left a sour taste. He wants to just wash his hands of it and head to the mountains and a home surrounded by fir trees. The paper he’s holding in his hand isn’t letting that happen; ARES and the disaster at Pineville won’t relinquish their grasp.

“We never did fully test mutations or carriers,” Skier answers.

“What you’re suggesting scares the shit out of me. It could just be the flu, but I don’t believe in coincidences and neither do you, or you wouldn’t have brought this to me. Get your ass up there with a team using CDC credentials and take a look. Don’t let on to why you’re there. Tell them that it’s a kneejerk reaction on our part. If this turns out to be a shit storm, quarantine those infected and find the source. You know the drill. Now, get going, Major, I have a couple of phone calls to make,” Koenig says, knowing deep inside that the conversation with his wife regarding an early retirement may be delayed.

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Springfield

September 27

Skier presents his CDC credentials and settles into the comfortable leather chair positioned in front of the hospital administrator’s desk. The etched golden placard resting near the front of the desk identifies the woman returning his identification as Elizabeth Karkis, MD.

“Doctor Mosely, to what do we owe this visit by you and your team?” Karkis asks after amenities.

“Truly, it’s probably nothing but a kneejerk reaction for the most part. I can’t tell you how many places we’ve had to visit lately for nothing more than ear infections or heat stroke. Given the scare following the attack, we’re responding to every outbreak, no matter how big or small. We have teams scattered across the world and we’re beginning to wear a little thin. To be honest, I can’t wait until something else happens and we can settle back down into our usual rut. In your case, we’re here for the flu cases you recently reported,” Skier answers.

“You, and by that I mean the CDC, are here over a few flu cases? Things must indeed be desperate,” Karkis states.

“Unfortunately, this is what we’re down to for the foreseeable future. I’m hoping that we won’t be here for too long, or inconvenience you and your staff.”

“It shouldn’t be any trouble to find some room for you and your people.”

“Thank you. So, the fourteen cases you have, can…”

“Seventeen,” Karkis interrupts.

“Excuse me?”

“Seventeen. As far as I know, we had three additional cases admitted last night,” Karkis states.

“Pardon me. These
seventeen
cases. What have you found?” Skier queries.

“Well, I have to admit that I’m not completely up to speed on these particular cases, but as far as I know, they’re just exhibiting flu symptoms. I believe we have them on IVs and monitoring,” Karkis replies.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to see their reports and admittance paperwork. We’d also like to set up our small lab and get some blood samples,” Skier says.

“Of course, doctor. Just let us know how we can help. I’ll assign one of our nurses as a liaison if you think that will expedite matters.”

“I know that having us skulk about is a pain in the ass. I’ve been on enough of these investigations to know that’s true, regardless of your saying different. We’ll do our best to stay out of your hair.”

Skier spends the remainder of the day mostly confined to a cramped dictating room. The team of personnel he brought along takes blood samples from those admitted while he checks the admittance forms and makes calls to outlying clinics, doctor’s offices, and other hospitals. He needs to get a grasp on what they’re looking at. It could be nothing but a flu outbreak, but his gut and the proximity to Pineville tells him that he’s looking at something more. If that turns out to be the case, he wants to be on top of it. If it’s just the flu, then he’ll pack his bags and head home, hopefully putting the whole ARES thing behind him. They’ll store the samples in a vault and move on to other ventures.

The calls to medical offices and hospitals reveal a few reported cases. Skier sends some of his small team out to gather and analyze reports. Even though he has some evidence to proceed with, he also knows that he’s most likely looking at a slim margin of cases. Most people don’t go to the doctor’s office or hospital for the flu. They just call in to work and lie in bed all day until they begin feeling better. However, his research to date has shown that most of the cases are situated in the local area surrounding the hospital, meaning that whatever he’s looking at hasn’t spread much. That will make it easier to localize.

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Colonel Koenig’s residence, Maryland

September 28

The phone ringing on the nightstand startles Koenig from his sleep. At first, he has difficulty separating the waking world from the dream one. The fear of being chased through endless tunnels is real, and his desire to jump out of bed and flee remains for several seconds. That dread is replaced by another as he glances to the source of the sound that woke him. The cell phone rings again, vibrating on the polished wooden surface. The last time he answered a call in the middle of the night wasn’t much fun. As a matter of fact, no call that he’s answered during the dark hours at home has ever been good. He’s been carrying a nagging feeling that not all is well ever since he sent Major Skier to Springfield. The ringing phone deepens that anxiety.

I should have listened to the wife about retirement years ago
, he thinks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and reaching for the phone.

Looking at the caller ID heightens his apprehension. The desire to run returns. Instead, he picks up the incessant phone and stabs at the answer button.

“Skier, I’m going to assume that you didn’t inadvertently misdial an order for pizza.”

“Sir. Sorry to bother you so late, but as you said, the news isn’t good,” Skier states. “We need to go secure.”

“Standby. I’ll call you right back,” Koenig responds.

Koenig dons his bathrobe and walks the dim hallways and stairs down to the room he set aside for his office, grabbing a glass of water on the way. Dialing his headquarters, he obtains a secure line out and rings Skier.

“Okay. We’re secure. Don’t make me play a hundred questions. Tell me what we’re dealing with,” Koenig states.

“It’s ARES, sir. But it has apparently mutated. To what degree, we can’t ascertain here. Samples are on the way and should arrive at the lab within hours. The only symptoms at this time are similar to the flu. However, there is no doubt that we’re looking at an ARES strain. I’m not sure what that means at the moment, but we’re moving the admitted infected here into the isolation ward unit for quarantine. We’re also sending teams out to test others who have shown flu symptoms at outpatient clinics and private practices. If they test positive, we’ll bring them in. The ward here isn’t large, so we may need to set up a quarantine elsewhere, and we’ll need appropriate equipment.

“According to the records that we’ve reviewed, those admitted are from a centralized area and not citywide. I haven’t been able to narrow it down to our patient zero, but I’m still working on it. With the positive ID of ARES, I’ve asked for additional help from our labs,” Skier states.

“Are we looking at a carrier scenario?” Koenig asks, his tension increasing with each sentence Skier utters.

“It appears that way, but we can’t be sure. As you know, our prior tests didn’t show any form of the virus mutating in any way on its own,” Skier answers.

“That means a carrier was able to get out of Pineville.”

“Apparently. I mean, what are the odds of that, but it’s here in a mutated form,” Skier responds.

“Okay. If you need additional space, request it from the administrator there. No outside quarantine; that will draw too much press attention. Use your CDC authority. Call our contacts at the CDC and notify them of what’s going on so that we don’t have any lapses. There’s probably no way we can keep this out of the press, so run it as an avian flu outbreak. Find some local chicken farms and have them tested. You know what to do with the results. Kill the flocks and reimburse the farmers,” Koenig says.

“Will do, sir. Given the nature of the outbreak, one of my concerns is that the mutated virus has gone airborne. Our tests here can’t confirm or deny that. Although we have limited numbers of infected, if it has gone airborne, the worry is how many have this mutated form and haven’t gone to their medical provider. This could get ugly in a hurry if there are enough of them.”

“I know, Skier. Find the source. And, above all, contain it. I don’t care how you do it, but keep this contained,” Koenig strongly states.

“Yes, sir. If this does begin going south, are we limited in our containment measures?” Skier queries.

“No. You know the virus and what could happen if it manifests itself in its original state or intent. Given that this stems from Pineville, you can consider the Phoenix protocol still active.”

“We’ll need people here that have a certain skillset, then,” Skier says.

“They’ll be on the way at first light. You have carte blanche to gather whatever personnel and equipment you need. I’m heading into the office to personally oversee the testing of the samples when they arrive. I’ll keep you briefed on what we find. Until then, keep searching and keep it as hushed as you can. Tell the administrator there that there is to be no press until you can ascertain the cause…public panic given recent incidents and all of that.”

“This could get really shitty, sir.”

“I know, Skier, I know. Just do what you need to do and we can ask for forgiveness later. We both have people to talk to. Keep me posted.”

“Will do, sir.”

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Springfield

September 28

The morning finds Major Skier again sitting in the leather chair in Doctor Karkis’s office.

“Doctor, I just wanted to give you an update on the cases. Our initial test results indicate that we’re looking at A(H5N1). The high fatality rate associated with the virulent nature of this strain of avian flu in humans is concerning us. Overnight, I had the patients moved into the isolation ward and restrained. Due to the…” Skier briefs.