Pestilence: The Infection Begins (4 page)

* * *

B
ack in the
temporary relief her office afforded, Delaney made a quick coffee, then put a call through to Calgleef. The CDC had to be informed. She suspected that, if this vaccination program was an executive order, then only the president could recall it but would only do so with informed advice. Like from the director of the CDC. Calgleef was a pediatrician with some research experience, but that was about all, and that had little to do with his appointment as the CDC director.

It was money that got him appointed. He had it and his family had it, and that bought a lot of political connections. As a substantial shareholder in two nationwide pharmacy chains, Andrew Calgleef became a major contributor to the current president’s campaign from the beginning; his reward was the directorship of the Centers for Disease Control. It wasn’t for that reason alone that Grace Delaney didn’t like him. He displayed an air of superiority, so common among the obscenely wealthy, and she had no time for people like that. For all his bad, she doubted he would stand by and allow a drug that was possibly causing complications to proceed.

“At least he can inform the president,” she said as she pushed the buttons of her cell with the thumb of one hand. Her other held her cup of coffee to her lips for a quick sip.

“Dr. Delaney, how good of you to call, I was just thinking about you.” Calgleef knew it was her from the caller ID on his phone. “What news do you have?”

She detailed the events of the morning, including Moya’s unexpected arrival, to the head of the CDC.

“Adverse reactions are to be expected, Dr.—”

“To every single patient? And each one exhibit the same response?” She was far from patient herself, and this wasn’t the time; she had already decided to deal with any consequences later.

“Well, that does seem odd I’ll grant you that. How many do you estimate you have treated so far?”

“My assistant, Dr. Tilford, and I treated over a dozen, and with ten consultation rooms operating nonstop that would make it over a hundred.” When silence followed she pressed ahead. “You must do whatever’s in your power to bring this to an end—until this vaccine is properly tested.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone over this test—”

“Look, Calgleef,” she’d addressed him as such before, “I’m here at ground zero, I saw what occurred before my very eyes, and in my opinion we have an unsafe drug that could possibly cause more harm than the virus. I’m sure the president wouldn’t want that, would he?”

On the other end of the line, Calgleef fumed. No subordinate spoke to him like that—no one, but there was more at stake than his pride.

“Perhaps you’re right, Dr. Delaney. Let me make some phone calls. I’ll get right back to you!”

The moment the conversation ended, Delaney looked at her phone almost in shock; she expected argument from her director not action. “Shit does happen apparently!”

* * *

B
efore putting
the receiver down Calgleef made a phone call just as he’d promised Delaney. This problem with the vaccine had to be addressed.

“Dr. Moya, it’s Calgleef… it appears we may have a problem.”

H
er coffee now cold
, Delaney rose to make another.

“All these people,” she stopped and peered through the half-drawn venetian blinds at the traffic going by outside, “going about their business, not knowing that decisions are being made by a few individuals they’ve most likely never heard of. Sad so, so—”

Delaney reined in her comments. She’d come full circle and now accepted the theories that government, big business and the medical establishment were conspiring to keep the population sick and dependent on medicines and doctors for their entire lives. Not a day would go by without having to take this pill or that pill and don’t forget your monthly doctor visit.

Yes, it wasn’t hard to see a steady stream of income from a million-odd people.

Healthy people are of no benefit to the medical or pharmaceutical industry… She recalled that phrase from one Internet site.

She returned to her desk with a hot coffee just as the intercom phone next to the lime-green-covered desk lamp rang.

“Dr. Delaney, it’s the patients—they’re worse!” a young nurse who couldn’t hide her panic informed.

Delaney feared the situation would deteriorate and told the nurse she would be right there. She hoped that Calgleef or even Moya would call back.

“Please hurry, they all look like they have the flu… and it’s contagious, I know it is!”

“Okay, Nurse, I’ll be there as quick as I can.” Delaney said as she put the receiver down. “Mm, it’s the flu,”

Would they have deliberately encouraged the growth of this virus in the US to guarantee sales of their vaccine?

As abhorrent as it sounded to her, it appeared to be the case.

* * *

D
r. Moya had
no answer to give Calgleef for the circumstances that prevailed at Riverside Hospital. He was only grateful he’d left before the vaccinations began. As an expert in his field he was well aware that reactions were common to any vaccine, but every single patient displaying almost the same behavior after a shot was unheard of. He cautioned the director of the CDC against informing anyone higher, especially the president. He told Calgleef he would investigate the matter personally and to not report anything until he could find an answer—if he could.

The only man that would have an answer would be Noel Thorncroft.

* * *

“
M
r. Thorncroft
, it’s Moya,” he said into his cell when the international call was answered. As personal overseer for Thorn Bio-Tech in the vaccination program, he now had Noel Thorncroft’s personal number, a major feather in his cap.

“Yes I know, you have something for me?” Thorncroft answered dryly.

Moya wasn’t offended, he was getting used to Thorncroft’s rude behavior. “Sir, there is a situation developing with the vaccination program, which we need to address immediately.”

“And just what would that be?” Thorncroft’s voice changed to urgent.

Moya heard him tell someone to, “Get off!” and understood Thorncroft wasn’t alone. Moya was among the few who knew of his employers’ passion for young men and of the small fortune he spent acquiring their services and was able to get a picture in his head—it wasn’t a pretty sight. He was also aware of what happened to anyone who mentioned it.

“The vaccine has given the flu to everyone who received shots.”

“What are you talking about, Moya?” A fumbling sound was heard over the mouthpiece of the phone. “You know as well as I do, vaccines contain a small amount of the virus, but they’ve been rendered inactive to build the antibodies to strengthen the immune system against the virus.”

“Yes, sir, I know that, but I’m only relaying the information to you of what’s happened. You need to have it tested, sir.”

“We do? Why can’t you do it there? That’s why I brought Calgleef in on this.” Thorncroft then ordered his guest to get him a drink.

He doesn’t treat his lover boys any better apparently. Moya shuddered; the very thought of these young men with that fat, old—blech!

“Sir, if an analysis was conducted here, the results would be available to those I’m sure you’d prefer not know of the vaccination’s makeup. The possibilities for reproduction—albeit illegal—would be all too prevalent.” Moya appealed to the one thing he knew would make Thorncroft sit up and take interest. Money.

He could practically hear the gears grind away in Thorncroft’s head as he thought it over. He heard the sound of ice cubes in a glass, then a long slurrrp as the CEO of Thorn Bio-Tech took a swallow of his drink. Either that or he and his— No, Moya shook his head to get that picture out of his mind. His head still contained remnants of the earlier image.

“Perhaps you’re right on that point, Moya. I’ll get our lab people to run a check right—”

“There’s also a potential problem with the CDC officer in charge at the hospital. She is calling on Calgleef to suspend the program until we have better information—”

“Suspend the program? We can’t have that, do you know how much is at stake?”

Moya didn’t but he could guess. “Sir, Calgleef would need an order from the president to do that, so we have some time. Have your techs look for the virus cells first.”

“The virus? What do you—”

“Sir,” Moya cut Thorncroft off again; he wouldn’t be able to get away with it much longer. “It’s the process of elimination, and that’s where we have to start.”

“Okay then, Moya, consider it done. Now unless there’s anything else, I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

I bet you do at that. And please don’t fill me in on it!

“No, sir, that’s all and thank you.” Moya ended the call and called Calgleef back as quick as he could. It would be easier to keep images of a naked Thorncroft romping with young men out of his head if he kept busy.

“Stall for time, Dr. Calgleef. I’m getting those tests you asked for done,” was all he told the director, then hung up. It was in his and Thorncroft’s interests that the tests were carried out, but by telling the director of the CDC he’d done it for him, his loyalty would be guaranteed.

Now he had to wait on the technicians from Thorn. He believed the virus was still active in the vaccination; there could be no other explanation for all patients showing symptoms otherwise. He couldn’t tell Thorncroft directly but he could hint—like leading a horse to water.

“Now if I can just get them to drink!”

* * *

“
H
ow do
you
feel
?” Delaney asked her younger assistant. Together with other staff they moved most of the ill into the consultation rooms, the most severe cases into beds in intensive care.

Tilford pulled the surgical mask everyone he wore below his chin. “Confused more than anything, but physically I’m okay. You?”

“Holding up but I’ll join you on the confused part.”

“Well it’s about to get worse.” Tilford gave a subtle nod behind her.

Before she had a chance to turn, around the sour tone of hospital CEO Gerard sounded.

“Dr. Delaney, what is the meaning of all this? What have you done?”

She didn’t like the insinuation but had more important concerns than Gerard’s temper. She had to refrain from an argument; he appeared the type who would have no qualms in removing Delaney, her team and probably the patients from his hospital. She couldn’t risk the consequences; it would be horrendous.

“There have been some complications—”

“COMPLICATIONS?” Gerard pointed at the remainder of the patients in the room. “Looks more like a fucking disaster to me!”

Delaney couldn’t argue against that if she wanted to.

“Mr. Gerard, we’re doing everything we can to contain the—”

Delaney shot a remonstrative look in Tilford’s direction. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say anything!

“Contain what, Tilford?”

“The, err, problem, sir, to outpatients.” Tilford responded.

Delaney breathed a little easier.

Gerard had been so intent on stamping his authority he hadn’t noticed the surgical masks worn by the staff hospital and CDC staff.

“And what exactly is that problem?” Gerard’s no longer seemed confrontational.

Delaney noticed the recognition in his face and the two backward he took; he understood. The virus was out!

“So… so where are all the patients you inoculated this morning?”

“Because of the different reactions, some are still here in the consultation rooms while the most severe have been moved into IC right —”

Gerard’s pupils grew to a size of black plates. He stared at Delaney for a moment, panic all over his face, he then whirled on his heels and stormed from the waiting room.

“The hell?” Tilford stared at the departing CEO.

“I’d say he’s off to inform the health authorities. He wasn’t about to tolerate this any further, but he needs some authority to remove us.”

“These people are in no condition to be moved, Dr. Delaney.”

“I know but there’s a more important consideration.”

“And that is?” Tilford’s inexperience in a crisis showed, but he wasn’t coming apart at the seams, which impressed Delaney just as much as his looks.

“The virus would be out and there’d be no stopping it.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment. The realization of those consequences was firmly entrenched into the minds of both, but Delaney did have one fleeting thought of a restaurant and a candlelight dinner for two…

She took a deep breath, snapped herself back to reality and glanced at her watch.

“I need to go make a phone call.” She headed back to her office; she should have heard back from Calgleef by now.

* * *

I
n a hotel
across the other side of Des Moines, Moya waited nervously in his room. He had given up all his beliefs; gone over the “dark side” and had become a leading proponent for the pharmaceuticals. As a doctor he knew some of the medications they made—mainly the more expensive ones—did more harm in most cases, which usually resulted in a prescription of yet more expensive medications. This meant little in many European and other countries around the world where universal health care or a similar system was in place. In the United States, however, where the system was designed to favor the private hospitals, private health insurers and drug manufacturers, the pickings were plentiful—for the few.