Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) (29 page)

P
rofessor Miles read the test results for the third time. Part of him wished he never had. After repeated tests and hours of contemplation, where he had thrown idea after idea onto the white board in his office, he had only come up with one theory. He now sat in his chair, staring at the board covered in questions and arrows. Dozens of items crossed out. Test results retried and confirmed. He had finally admitted that what he was looking at was true. He just didn’t want to believe it.

He looked at the clock. It was after midnight and he was sure he was the only one still left in the lab except for the security people. Should he call now or wait till tomorrow? Could he afford to wait? He found himself looking up at the Terminator poster on the wall. The machine’s red eyes stared back at him with a bare toothed grin. The Terminator was alive and living in his lab. He had to call now.

“What are you looking at?” he asked the poster as he reached for the phone.

It rang several times before it was picked up.

“. . . Hello?”

“Sydney, it’s Professor Miles.”

“Hello, Professor . . . what . . . what time is it?”

“It’s late and I apologize, but I have something very important to tell you and it just couldn’t wait.”

“. . . Okay?”

“Are you awake? I need you to hear this.”

He heard the sounds of rustling sheets and a creaking floor as she got out of bed.

“I’m awake now, go ahead.”

“Today I did a necropsy on one of the infected monkeys with an assistant of mine. The monkey was only in the second day of the infection, but already it was showing signs of severe respiratory distress. The lungs on removal were saturated with bloody sputum. It appears to target not just the lining of the main branches of the respiratory tract, but also deep into the lungs, down to the alveoli. The lungs were bad. You could feel the weight in your hands, very heavy and dense. I’ve never seen anything like it. The monkey was very cyanotic prior to the necropsy, its lips, ears and fingers all blue, and it had a high fever. I estimate it would have been dead in a matter of hours. The female we injected has already died. When rigor set in the fluid poured from the mouth and nose. This flu shows no signs for six days and then kills in less than forty-eight hours.”

“My God.”

“It gets worse. We injected the female with the top three anti-virals on the market. Sydney, we got nothing. Nothing! It didn’t even slow it down. We’re running more tests now, but I don’t expect anything different. But it’s how they got it that’s the worst part.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when I said the yellow top vial was a vaccine? Well it is. I just couldn’t figure out how the monkeys got this new strain of Spanish Flu. It just didn’t add up. Then I got the new blood work back. They tested positive for the new flu
and
Newcastle.”

“I thought you said the red top vial had the Newcastle virus?”

“It does, and it should only have affected the birds I gave it to. The birds were at the opposite end of the room. Newcastle shouldn’t have had any effect on the monkeys anyway. They don’t have the receptors for it.”

“So how did it happen?”

“I’m not totally sure yet, but I can tell you my theory.”

“Okay?”

“Both of the viruses had a number of additional fragments attached as well as several protein markers. I mean a lot of them. Fragments from all kinds of viruses. It’s not unusual to find fragments, just not in this quantity. Both monkeys have a combination of the two virus structures showing in their blood. The viruses combined somehow to produce this new flu, and it killed the monkeys in less than two days. What you have here is some kind of binary virus. The first half is the yellow top vaccine. Anyone inoculated with it is fine. It will even protect them from the coming flu strains. But if they come into contact with a bird with the red top Newcastle strain, they’ll develop the new flu, be carriers for a few days and then be dead forty-eight hours from the first sign of symptoms.”

There was silence on the phone as Sydney thought through what she was being told.

“Sydney?”

“I’m here, I . . . I don’t know what to say. Is this thing natural?”

“If I hadn’t gotten it from the vials you had sent me, I would have to say maybe. It would appear natural if detected from the animals. But coming from a vial? That tells me it’s an engineered virus or somebody has harnessed a naturally occurring one.”

“I see. You have this all on paper?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure of what you’re telling me.”

“Yes.”

“How fast can you get to DC?”

“I can be there by morning.”

“Come to the Hoover Building. I’ll have someone escort you up.”

“All right. Sydney?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you get these vials?”

“We’ll have to discuss that when you get here.”

“. . . Okay.”

•      •      •

“Let me get this straight, Professor. What you’re telling me is that someone has a lethal flu virus disguised as a vaccine and they’re housing it in American embassies?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

Larry slumped back in his chair. They had been listening to the professor since early that morning as he explained his findings. It was now approaching three and they were still wrapping their heads around the idea.

“What happens if it gets out?”

“A worldwide pandemic like we’ve never had in history. If the birds are migratory the virus will spread across the earth even if we ground every plane and quarantine everyone who got the vaccine. There will be no way to control it. Right now it takes two parts. The initial inoculation followed by contact with an infected bird. But if the virus becomes airborne, you now have person-to-person transmission. It could sweep the globe. Some will survive as the virus mutates, some will have a natural immunity, but millions will die within days of being infected.”

“How many total?”

“I estimate the number as high as two to three billion. That’s one-third of the world’s population.”

They sat in silence, stunned by the number.

“What about a vaccine?” Eric asked.

The professor rubbed his chin before replying. He was clearly exhausted and the thoughts in his head seemed to make him even more tired.

“The pharmaceutical companies would have to convert their production to mass produce any vaccine. The technical difficulties would be astronomical. Flu vaccines are made by inoculating the seed virus in embryonated hen’s eggs, you purify them and chemically treat them to remove the ineffective portion. Then the concentration is adjusted to known biological standards. Huge vaccine-ready flocks would have to be hatched six months ahead of time so that they’re mature enough to lay eggs. It takes at least a half a year to prepare a flu vaccine. It then has to be tested and approved by the FDA. We use five million hens just to produce the annual flu vaccine, and that’s just enough to give out to select target groups like the elderly and healthcare workers. To make enough vaccine for this? It would never be ready in time. The virus burns to quickly, it kills in days. The pandemic would be worldwide before the eggs were even hatched.”

“So what
can
we do?” Larry asked.

“Find the source of this vaccine and eliminate it. Destroy the red top vials before they can be spread. I’ll get my people started on a vaccine.”

Jack had listened silently for most of the professor’s lecture. The suspicions he’d had were true. It was the scale he was unprepared for. There was one thing he still didn’t understand.

“Professor, you said there was no way to stop the spread. If this was man-made, what’s its purpose?”

“That is for you and your people to find out, Mr. Randall. I prefer not to think about it.”

They sat in silence once again until the professor’s phone rang. He frowned at the disturbance, but on looking at the screen his face clouded.

“If you will excuse me for a moment?”

“Of course.”

The professor rose and walked out to the hallway, closing the door behind him. They followed his progress until they were alone.

Larry spoke first. “Syd, you believe this guy?”

“I trust him Larry. He’s one of the world’s leading experts on virology. He has no reason to lie to us.”

“What are you thinking, Jack?” Murphy asked.

“At first I thought it had to be a weapon. But he says there’s no way to control it. How do you steer something like this? It will go after everyone. Unless you’ve already vaccinated all of your own soldiers and civilians first, it will turn on whoever releases it. Then what about your allies and third party countries? It’s too . . . indiscriminant . . . to be a weapon. I just don’t understand the purpose.”

They all stared at the two vials in the middle of the table. The professor had sterilized them and brought them back with him on the chance that the FBI needed them to help determine the source. As they had listened to him for the last few hours the vials had kept drawing their gaze. They now looked at them with a new respect. Sydney couldn’t believe what she and Jack had been casually carrying around in their pockets all that time.

“So how do we figure that part out?”

“I’m hoping our friend Heather can shed some light on that. She’s due here in about an hour. I have some pointed questions for her.”

He was interrupted by the professor reentering the room. His face was pale and he slowly sat down as if he had lost the strength to stand.

Sydney rose and went to him. “Dr. Miles, what is it?”

He spoke to the glass of water in front of him.

“Thelma and Louise.”

“Who?”

“My control monkeys. That was Lynda on the phone, my assistant. She says they’ve crashed.”

“What do you mean?”

“The virus . . . it’s airborne.”

•      •      •

“I don’t recall asking you to bring anyone with you, Ms. Sachs. Who might this gentleman be that you insist on being here with you?”

Heather glanced at her companion, but said nothing. They had arrived at the Hoover Building that afternoon together and been stopped at the desk. Security people called Jack after being informed that she refused to see him without her unknown companion. He had reluctantly allowed it. They took seats at the table and met the looks of the people across from them.

“He’s not my lawyer, he’s my boss.”

Jack merely waited. The man finally spoke.

“Mr. Randall, if you would ask these people to leave for a few moments, I think I can provide some answers to your questions.”

Jack played with his pen for a moment as he contemplated the offer. Heather obviously deferred to the man. Jack had no charges against her and no reason to hold her. He couldn’t force her to talk. But obviously they were close to something, something this man had information on. He decided to hear him out.

He nodded to his people and then watched as they filed out of the room. To his surprise, Heather rose and followed. Soon they were alone in the room.

“Mr. Randall, my name is John Kimball. I’ve been sent to arrange a meeting for you.”

•      •      •

Jack and Sydney sat on the cold steps and stared at the star filled sky. They had been there for over an hour and their butts were beginning to get cold. She pulled her coat a little tighter and drew her knees up to her chin.

“Why am I here, Jack?”

“I need you with me. I need a witness and you’re the only one I have that they can’t touch.”

“I don’t follow.”

“If we’re meeting who I think we are then most people will be intimidated by his power. I need a witness who will do what’s right, regardless of who it is telling them how things are or how they should be.”

She smiled. “And that’s me?”

He looked at her and returned her smile. “That’s you.”

“So who are we going to meet?”

“You’ll see.”

“Are we going to arrest him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why are we going if we aren’t going to arrest him?”

“I believe we’ll get an explanation.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Jack offered nothing more so she let her questions die as she waited. A glance behind her was met by the stern look of Abe Lincoln sitting in his chair. He offered no assistance. She felt Jack tense as a car approached.

Kimball pulled up to the curb and saw Jack sitting on the steps. The two of them stood and approached the car. He thumbed the button and the tinted glass slide down.

“We agreed it would just be you. Why is she here?”

“You showed up uninvited. She goes, too, or there’s no deal.”

Kimball examined his face in the light of the streetlamps. He saw no room for negotiation.

“All right, get in.”

They entered the back seat and the car swiftly pulled away from the curb and turned left to drive down the mall toward the Capitol Building. They traveled in silence through the rain-wet streets, virtually devoid of any traffic at this early morning hour. The Washington Monument glowed in its spotlights and the bronze soldiers of the World War Two memorial could be seen as they forever patrolled the mall. As they neared the Capitol Building, Jack couldn’t help but recall that night a few months ago chasing his friend through the DC subway after he had shot the senator. He drove the thought from his mind. He had other things to think about.

He felt Sydney’s hand creep into his and give a squeeze. He turned to see a look of concern on her face as she watched him. He gave a squeeze back. The car committed a series of turns before they found themselves going back down the mall past the White House. They turned right and stopped in front of the Old Executive Office Building.

“That man on the curb will lead us. Don’t say anything to him or anybody we may run into.”

They all exited the car and gathered on the curb. The man approached slowly and nodded to Kimball. He then turned and silently led them into the building.

It appeared to be a service entrance and they immediately entered a stairwell, descending several flights before stopping at the bottom and entering a room. Here the man reached into a closet and pulled out a wand. With a gesture they all assumed the position and were thoroughly checked with both the wand and a careful pat down. Kimball included. When satisfied they were clean the man simply opened the door and led them away. After a series of twists and turns, where they saw no other people, they came to a door with a large man standing in front. He and the escort exchanged a look before the escort spun on his heel and silently left.