Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) (26 page)

P
rofessor Miles shook his head behind the plastic faceplate as he examined the birds, as he had for the last few days. They appeared normal and healthy for the most part, but he had been told what to look for and he was now seeing it.

The ducks were showing slight swelling around the eyes and neck and one of the chickens had greenish stool when he had cleaned the cages that morning. One duck would sneeze every few minutes, but he noted no nasal discharge. It was Newcastle.

He reviewed the blood work he had run. It showed the virus strain as Lentogenic, the most mild of the four strains of Newcastle. This meant the birds would produce only mild signs of infection, and would survive as the strain was not lethal. They were now carriers. Parrots had been shown to carry the virus yet not show symptoms. This left them capable of shedding NDV for up to 400 days.

Miles documented his findings before walking past the monkey cages and leaving the room. He found a chair and flopped into it.

400 days. He marveled at the figure. A virus that lived that long in birds could be a truly scary thing. It was a tough virus, too, capable of surviving for several weeks with sufficient warmth and humidity. It could live on the bird’s feathers, in its feces, in its mucosal discharge. It would live indefinitely if frozen.

He reached out to the keyboard in front of him and punched up the research data he had gathered. Newcastle Disease Virus (NDV)-avian paramyxoviruses was a single stranded linear RNA virus with an elliptical symmetry. The total genome was roughly 16,000 nucleotides.

This was the problem he had. The vial contained the same type of virus, yet the RNA strand was almost double the number of nucleotides. He had no explanation for the excess. As far as he could tell, it was made up of virus fragments and additional proteins for which, at this point, he could see no reason. Furthermore, it was appearing to be anything but a vaccine. If anything it
gave
the birds Newcastle, albeit the mildest form. It was still infectious.

There was only one reason on the books to introduce Newcastle and that was for a specific cancer treatment. In 2006 it was used to target certain types of brain and lung cancers. The virus preferred to target and replicate in the cancer cells, destroying them while leaving normal cells unaffected. But that was a completely different strain and certainly did nothing to explain why pallets of the medication were being stored in African warehouses. None of this was making any sense.

He put down the clipboard and, shaking his arm repeatedly, managed to pull it out of its sleeve and inside his suit. He first reached up and scratched a spot on his nose that had been bugging him all day. He then turned his back to the windows before reaching into his waistband and pulling out the candy bar he had tucked in there earlier. It was a violation of his own rules, but since he was alone in the lab he felt it was okay. He could be a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do-guy for a few minutes.

He peeled the wrapper with his teeth and munched away as he read some more of the blood work report. At the bottom he discovered the report on his two monkeys. Both had been injected with this year’s strain of flu that was now making its way through China. The monkeys were showing the correct antibodies, and it looked as though they would make a full recovery. Despite this, their white cell counts were higher than expected. As if they were gearing up for a long battle. Maybe the vaccine was experimental. He would keep a closer eye on them.

•      •      •

It was his first meeting of the day, or his last, depending on one’s point of view. At 2:30 a.m. he had risen silently from the bed so as not to disturb his wife. He dressed quietly in casual attire before opening the bedroom door. His escort was patiently waiting with his nighttime security people. They exchanged no words as he was quickly led away. They passed numerous paintings as they strode through the building, paintings of important men, some great leaders, some not. He deliberately avoided their gaze and kept his eyes on the shoes of the man leading him. They descended to the ground floor and then on into the basement. The hallways were void of any people as the cleaning crews had been cleared for the evening. Security was also unusually sparse and soon just he and his escort were walking the hall. Other than time spent in his bedroom with his wife, it was the most he had been alone in several years. They descended again to a subbasement and were soon in front of a large heavy door. The escort placed his palm on the screen next to it and the door unlocked itself with three dull metallic thuds. A small indicator light turned green and the escort tugged the door open to reveal a long hallway lit at regular intervals. He followed the escort through the door and waited patiently while it was locked behind them before once again being led down the hallway. Muted sounds of traffic could be heard at one point, but otherwise the only sound was of their shoes on the tile floor. After what seemed like over two blocks they came to an identical door and the palm scan and heavy door were repeated. They walked down a carpeted corridor with several turns and twists until they arrived at a door blocked by a large, stern looking man. He said nothing as the escort turned and walked away, his job for the early morning hour over. The two men stood looking at one another until the escort was out of earshot down the long hallway.

“Assignation,” the man spoke.

The guard nodded and opened the door behind him, allowing the man to enter the dimly lit room. He slowly surveyed the room, noting all that were present. As usual, he was the last to arrive. He took his place at the table without greeting or acknowledgement from the others. There were five of them total, a representative from each of the major continents and centers of population. They met only twice a year, as had their predecessors, in this room and never outside it. There were no papers in the room, no phones, not even a pen among them. These meetings never existed.

“Status?” he asked.

The African representative spoke. “We had a minor problem with the storage of the agent due to the embassy bombing in Tanzania. The agent was mixed as a result. We attempted to recover it while the remainder was being transported, but were forced to destroy it in place instead. It is believed to be totally contained. The remaining B agent is being moved from the area storage facilities. The A agent will remain as it currently is so as not to arouse suspicion.”

“Very well,” the man answered. “I have people monitoring those involved just in case. We will take action, if needed. Production is on schedule. We should be shipping to South America within four weeks. You are prepared to receive the agents?”

The South American representative cleared his throat before replying. “We have to be careful with Chavez in Venezuela. He’s a paranoid fool and suspects everything. The other distribution points are ready. We hope to have the continent fully staged within a year.”

The man nodded and the others stayed silent, awaiting his next thought.

“No more testing? We’re sure we have the right agent this time?”

The Russian placed his hands on the table as the question fell to him. “The test currently started in Mexico is revealing good results. They’ve dubbed it the ‘Swine Flu.’ We’ve identified the speed and coordination efforts of the public health entities involved. I would rate their response as good to excellent. Containment is still the deciding factor. While the zero-patient was located quickly and the virus source traced soon after, we’ve proved that containment is virtually impossible. The virus was in three countries in a matter of days, and worldwide in weeks. I believe we have solved the problems of transmission, virility, stability and effectiveness. We estimate a 1/3, or 2 billion reduction with the current agent.”

There was a long pause as they all contemplated the number. It helped to deal in percentages instead.

“The cause will still appear natural?”

“Yes, as did all the previous tests. This agent offers a . . . quicker . . . solution as well.”

“Good. There will be no more frog-boiling, we can all agree on this?”

There were nods all around the table. The agent that had been dubbed AIDS was an attempt to produce a stealth virus, one that would manifest itself slowly, thereby avoiding detection until it had already gained a foothold. The years it took to take effect, coupled with the suffering involved, had proven it to be a poor choice by their predecessors. The frog boiling statement, while crude, was accurate. If one dropped a frog in boiling water it would immediately take action to escape, but if one placed the frog in the water and then slowly brought it to a boil, it would sit quietly while it cooked to death.

“Production?” he asked next.

Again the Russian. “Our facilities are at full production capacity as are the units here in the United States. We estimate to have the required amount produced by early next year, with a backup supply stored at each site.”

“Very good. How are we in the east?”

The Chinese representative addressed them with his usual soft-spoken voice and the others strained to hear. “Our distribution is complete. We are adding more sites in Indonesia and removing the site from Yap as we discussed previously. The island is now considered a safety zone, along with the rest of Micronesia.”

The leader again nodded his head and there was a long pause as they all contemplated the enormity of what they were discussing.

“Gentleman, I wish I had never inherited this task as I know you all do as well. Nevertheless, it has fallen to us to see it through. The plan must be in place within the designated timeline. Reports by my country’s scientists paint a poor future for our world. We must be ready for the day the decision has to be made. Let us all hope it does not fall on one of us to make.”

He got solemn nods of agreement from all around the table.

“I shall see you all again in six months.” He rose to leave as the others kept their seats. They would leave at separate intervals so as not to be seen together. He opened the door to find a different escort waiting. He was led back through the maze of corridors and stairwells, through the tunnel and back into the building where he’d started.

“The office,” he spoke to the escort, who quickly changed direction to accommodate. Another corridor followed by a stairwell and he was back in familiar territory. He hardly noticed as the escort disappeared and was replaced by one of his own security men. He walked past his secretary’s desk and into his office only to find an elderly woman dusting the shelves. A security man kept watch. She quickly stopped and gathered her supplies before addressing him.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, Betty.”

•      •      •

“Still no ID on either of them, sir?”

“Nothing yet. We’re still sifting through the trace from the van, but this isn’t CSI, Jack. Test results actually take time to run in the real world and I don’t really have a good reason to bump this to the front of the line. Someone will eventually ask why.”

“You’re the Deputy Director. How about ‘Because I said so?’”

“It doesn’t work that way and you know it. Now calm down and we’ll go over it from the beginning.”

Jack stopped pacing and found a seat in front of the man’s desk. Jack had to admit that Deacon was right, and blowing his stack over the pace of the work was stupid.

“You’re sure there were only two of them?”

“No. There could have been more in the house that I didn’t see, but I doubt one would bail out while his partner was still in there.”

“You said the van left the guy there on the road with you,” Deacon pointed out.

“Yeah, but that could have been planned or just desperation forcing their hand.”

“Tell me about the scar you saw.”

“The one I shot had an old bullet wound on his calf, a through and through. It looked like he covered it with a tattoo but then later had it removed. The M.E. agreed. Ring any bells?”

“Your sterile guy from Africa.”

“Yeah, obviously they want something, I just don’t know what.”

“Nothing missing from the house?”

“Nope, nothing even disturbed. It was like they had never been there. If it wasn’t for that boot print in the carpet I never would have known they were there.”

They both sat in silence for a few minutes while they looked for a motive. Jack broke the silence with a statement that surprised Deacon.

“Somebody was in Sydney’s office.”

“Say that again?”

“She told me her office Tell was moved the other day. I ran it by security but got nothing. No report of accidental movement and the cleaning man denies it. Guy’s been here a few years. Guard says he’s a good man.” Jack let the statement hang for a moment before asking a question. “How’re our two new friends behaving?”

“Murphy seems to be as advertised. No strange behavior. We let him see our tail once and he reported it. We said it was a training exercise and that seemed to satisfy them. Ms. Sachs, on the other hand, has a few strange quirks. She leaves the house to make phone calls every once in awhile. Evidently she has multiple cell phones, but we can’t find the numbers in any database. She does her job well, but outside of work she has few friends. We’re still keeping an eye on her.”

Jack thought about their options. He’d been shot at twice now by whoever was behind this and he still had no real clue as to why. Basically they had two options at this point. Sit back and wait to see what came at them next, or take the fight to them.

“Let’s go on offense.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“Simple, we call Murphy over for a visit and grill him on what he knows.”

“And if he knows nothing?”

“We recruit him.”

•      •      •

Professor Miles opened the door to the monkey cage for the morning feeding. Thelma and Louise greeted him with their usual screams and quickly tackled the biscuits as they were dropped into the cages. The noise in the cage had changed slightly and he could hear the calls of the ducks at the end of the room over the roar of air in the suit. He would get to them as soon as he finished with the monkeys.