Authors: Linda Wells
He enlarged the search criteria to include the common symptoms that had been presented, including quick onset and respiratory distress. The results suggested other possibilities including West Nile virus or the norovirus, sometimes called the cruise ship virus. Both could be deadly and fast spreading. He couldn’t rule out chemical inhalation or pneumonia, either.
He punched Jim’s extension. “Hey, Jim, I don’t know what the hell we are dealing with. I found information that points to anything from West Nile to avian flu, chemical contact or coincidence. Whatever it is, we’re fucked. At this point, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
Jim said, “You’re right. We are fucked. And wait till you hear this. I just heard a news report that a Century Air flight, departing from LaGuardia this morning, made an emergency landing in Baltimore, approximately one-half hour into the flight. A flight attendant was transported to Johns Hopkins. She had severe flulike symptoms, and I guess she was pretty much out of it.”
“I wonder if she was on the subway platform this morning.”
Jim hesitated. “Yes.”
“Fucking A…” Dave said.
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D
ave went back to his office, and closed the door. He texted Chris. “My office. D”
It only took a few minutes for Chris to get there. She looked beautiful, even in her hospital scrubs. He had showered in the doctors’ lounge and was dressed in his standard ER attire of jeans, running shoes, dress shirt with sleeves rolled up, and tie. She closed the door, and they embraced. They kissed softly, and then passionately, with desire. He was pulling her as close to him as possible.
“I love you so much, Chris,” Dave said.
“I love you, sweetheart, so very much,” she responded, feeling secure in his arms. “What is this, Dave? What is going on?” asked Chris, knowing this was serious. She saw the concern in his eyes.
He took her face in his hands and spoke firmly, “I want you to go home now. Things are going in a direction I don’t like, and until we have answers, I want you out of here.” Fearing for her safety, he wanted her out of the hospital.
Chris said, “I heard about the man dying in isolation, but he had pre-existing health issues and was at high risk.”
“True enough, but allow me to be cautious. You are tired. You need to go home, and don’t come back to work until I know what is going on.” Dave was firm. He was scared, not just for her, but the entire hospital and staff.
“I don’t want to leave you, Dave, please.” She never wanted to be anywhere but with him.
He ignored her. “What is the status in the ER now?”
Chris said, “Things are stable but busy. The subway is still shut down. The Center City Hospital administrator called Jim Lucas. They have received several patients with flu-like symptoms. The military is helping transport them to Edgewood. It is precautionary. The patients just happened to be on the subway platform in question, so they don’t want to place any hospitals in jeopardy.”
Dave spoke quietly “I am concerned, Chris. I have some hunches, but we need lab confirmations.”
“What do you think it is, Dave?” she queried.
“I’m not sure, but my guess is a dangerous airborne virus of unknown origin, possibly mutated, as indicated by the uncommonly short incubation period. The CDC or the FBI will give us the answers we need, though we can only treat with certain antiviral medications, no matter what it is, and they are limited in quantity.”
Chris said, “I think I should stay. I can rest here if necessary, and the other staff nurses will need breaks. Our ER is busy, under routine circumstances.” She was right, but he didn’t want her exposed to this unknown virus. He loved her dedication to her job, patients, and coworkers, but he also knew she needed to be near him. He needed her also, but protecting her was foremost.
“Okay, Chris, stay, for now,” he said. He held her, not wanting to let go.
“Did Vicki call? How is Carolyn?” asked Chris.
“Thank God, Carolyn is home. Vicki is very upset. I told her I had to stay here and asked her to stay home and not let Carolyn go out. I think she will do as I asked,” Dave said.
When it came to their daughter, fortunately Vicki was a good mother. That was all he could ask of her.
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M
ax walked into the remote CIA office, one of many maintained in the DC area. His friend of over twenty years, Greg Hammond, worked for the NCS, the National Clandestine Service, which is the secret investigative arm of the CIA. Greg and Max had graduated from West Point in the same class, and after Greg finished his tour of duty, he was recruited to work for the CIA, the non-military intelligence gathering agency.
“Max, it’s good to see you,” greeted Greg, giving Max a warm handshake. “It’s been too long.”
Greg’s office was sparsely furnished and soundproof. There were venetian blinds on one window, plain beige walls, and light brown carpet. There was a comfortable leather desk chair and a large oak desk with a brass desk lamp, a laptop, telephone, and a yellow legal pad and pen. A metal filing cabinet was in one corner.
“What can I get you?” He reached for the phone to buzz his assistant for some coffee.
“Nothing, thanks, Greg, but you go ahead.”
“I’m fine, too,” Greg said. “It’s been a long time. What have you been up to? I heard you’re working for the Joint Chiefs. Pretty nice gig, with some perks, no doubt.” He smiled.
Max laughed. “It’s a great gig. You know how it is. Professional ass kisser mostly, but sometimes I actually get asked my opinion.” Both men laughed, knowing they were in the business of keeping secrets.
“You look great,” stated Greg. “Keeping in shape, I see.”
“You, too. It must be the academy thing.” They were similar, instilled with self- discipline and strict core values. Both were glad to see each other again.
“You ever get married, Greg? I remember that little brunette you were dating, the one with the impressive figure.”
Greg said, “No, I thought she was serious, but I just couldn’t spend enough time with her, and I guess she found a nine to fiver to keep her happy.” He laughed, but Max sensed it was halfhearted.
“What about you, Max? You had them lined up,” he smiled.
Everyone was aware of Max’s looks and magnetic charm, even the guys, but Max was the only one who didn’t catch on. He had been career oriented and not much for serious dating. That is, until now.
“Actually, no, I am not married, but that could change, even at my age. Forty-two. Damn, that sounds old.”
“I hear you,” said Greg. “So you have one on the line?” he asked, raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, and frankly, that is why I am here.” Greg leaned forward, giving Max a questioning smirk.
“What gives?” Greg knew there was more to this meeting than old friends catching up.
“I need a favor,” asked Max.
“You got it.” Greg leaned back in his leather chair.
Max pulled an envelope from his briefcase and slid it across the desk. Greg opened it and read the brief message several times. He studied the photographs, memorizing both.
“I need to know what these mean. I want to know their connection to the lady I am seeing, Dr. Suzy Chen, assistant director of Edgewood Labs at the APG.” He filled Greg in on all that he knew about Suzy’s background and how he had obtained the information.
“I’m impressed. So how serious are you about this lady?” asked Greg, looking Max in the eyes.
“Very.”
Greg understood. “When do you need to know?”
“As soon as possible.” Max spoke emphatically. Greg knew this was not just ordinary curiosity.
“You came to the right place,” answered Greg.
“Thanks, Greg. I mean it,” said Max.
“This must be some lady.” Greg smiled.
“You can’t fucking imagine,” Max said, shaking his head. “I may be in over my head.”
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T
he CDC in Atlanta was getting updated reports from several NYC hospitals that there were significant numbers of patient arrivals, presenting with severe flu-like symptoms. The emergency departments were doing their best to stabilize these patients, keep them isolated, and treat them with anti-viral medications and antibiotics. Dr. Ambrose was notified of these cases since most seemed, in some way, to be connected to the Express Subway platform. Concern was mounting that this was atypical of a normal flu outbreak. The spread was rapid, and the severity and onset of the symptoms were extraordinary.
Dr. Ambrose contacted the research lab in Jersey. They were working on the samples from the various patients stricken with the unknown virus. So far, they had nothing to report. He knew the FBI lab was looking at the canister and its possible connection to the virus in question. He was hoping that the canister would answer some of their questions and even perhaps diminish their concerns. Additional samples would be arriving in Atlanta later in the day.
So far, there had been no definitive identification of the presumed virus. The CDC was tracking the outbreak. This virus had, no doubt, affected many who had had gone home and exposed their families. Some had gone to work, exposing coworkers, or many had left the city via plane or automobile, taking the virus with them. He heard on the news about an airliner making an emergency landing in Baltimore with a sick crew member. He wondered if there might be a connection. As he was thinking of the ramifications, there was a quiet knock on his office door. It was Amy, his assistant. “Dr. Ambrose, Mayor Donnelly of New York City is on line one.” Thanking her, he picked up the phone.
“Dr. Ambrose speaking.”
“One moment please,” said the operator. After a few minutes, the Mayor came on the line.
“This is Mayor Donnelly speaking. Is this Dr. Ambrose?” he asked.
“Yes, this is Ambrose.”
Donnelly, not hesitating, said, “We need your help, Dr. Ambrose. First of all, do you have anything to report regarding the subway incident samples?”
“No, sir. We hope to know something soon,” Ambrose answered. “Our lab in New Jersey will let me know as soon as they have an identification. More samples will be studied here. We are waiting for their delivery.” He looked at his watch, noting it was 11:00 a.m. “These identifications can take time. And no reports from Quantico, as yet.”
“The regional director of Homeland Security, Tom Bennett, has called a meeting for noon today in my office. Could you possibly conference in? There will be representatives present from various agencies, including the police commissioner, Health and Human Services, FEMA, the NYC Metropolitan Transit Authority, and the FBI, including two agents working on the case. The Deputy Mayor, Mary Henderson, will be attending, as well. We need your input, Dr. Ambrose.”
“Yes, of course. Let’s go over some agenda items,” answered Dr. Ambrose.
The Mayor said, “Fine, thank you. Our assistants will sort out the conference call.” They continued their discussion, with Ambrose jotting down critical points. He would be prepared and hoped to have some test results.
Ambrose called his assistant, Amy, into his office. “The Mayor’s assistant is on the phone. Please arrange the conference call that will connect me to the noon meeting.”
Amy nodded, “Yes, sir,” and returned to her office.
Ambrose dialed extension twelve.
“Paul Miller speaking.” Miller was the logistics and distribution manager for emergency supplies.
“Paul, Ambrose here. We may need large quantities of antiviral medications. Please inventory what is available and their locations. The epicenter of the possible outbreak is New York. I need to know what we have and how soon we can transport these supplies. Please call me back as soon as possible.”
“Yes, I’ll see what quantities are available.” Paul knew what this meant. He had heard the news reports coming out of New York. Nothing had been substantiated but he suspected the worst.
“This is classified,” Ambrose said and then added, “Please get back to me as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Paul.
“One more thing, Paul. Please alert Dr. Rudolph. As soon as we ID the virus, we will begin the manufacture of a vaccine. Rudy needs a heads-up on this,” said Ambrose. “We need his team ready by this afternoon. We will need all drug companies’ cooperation in this effort, as well. Please notify those on our list of approved manufacturers to be on standby.”
“Yes, Dr. Ambrose, I’ll call Rudy first.”
“Thanks,” said Ambrose.
His next call was to the tracking center. The CDC was getting reports indicating numerous patients with severe influenza-like symptoms were being admitted to medical facilities in various parts of the country, but the majority of cases were in the New York and New Jersey area. He would have updated counts and locations for the noon meeting.
Dr. Ambrose put his head in his hands. He thought of the months it would take to manufacture a safe and effective vaccine, with all the phases and trials necessary. He could only imagine how many would be dead by then.
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S
uzy drove back to her office as quickly as she could. She didn’t want to attract attention to her lengthy absence. The lab director, Dr. Eric Adams, was out of the office for the afternoon, something to do with “moving his college age son back home from the university,” code known around the office that he was meeting Karen from Human Resources for a “noon-er.” His car was still gone from the parking lot, so she knew that he wouldn’t be aware of her extended absence. His mind would be “distracted” anyway. “What a pig,” she thought. It was the perfect time to implement the next step of her assignment.
His office wasn’t far from hers. Most staffers were busy, and it wasn’t unusual for Suzy to be in and out of Dr. Adams’s office, sometimes several times each day. She walked down the empty carpeted hallway and, with a quick look, opened his unlocked office door and stepped inside, locking the door behind her. It was a well-appointed office and richly decorated, befitting his title, which, if life had at all been fair, should have been hers. Dr. Adams had made sure that she, the “Chink broad,” wouldn’t get the promotion.