The Coward's Way of War (31 page)

“Hardly,” Linda said, tartly.  Some of the men in the room thought that a woman shouldn't have a say in their affairs, but none of them were brave or stupid enough to say it to her face.  Besides, Linda was a qualified nurse and not someone to alienate.  “If none of us were showing symptoms by now, we don’t have it.”

“Unless we’re all immune,” someone else said, slowly.

“The question is simple,” Jim said, once the chatter had died down.  “Do we declare our existence to the government or do we keep quiet, hiding here.”

“They do know that some of us are already here,” Brian reminded him.  “Billy will certainly have seen you and he knows about me; we used to go out drinking together, before the crisis hit.”

“And they’re offering vaccinations,” Linda said.  There was an icy note in her voice that boded ill for anyone who dared to object.  “I will not allow the children to remain unvaccinated.”

“But mom,” Robin began...

“Quiet,” Jim snapped.  Robin was just entering his teenage years, the years of rebellion against his mother and father.  Being a literal bastard, he had taken some flak from his schoolmates over the years.  “Your mother is looking out for you, something you rarely seem to do for yourself.”

“They’re not offering vaccinations,” Brian said.  “They’re asking us to register for vaccinations.  My guess is that they only have a small supply and they’re trying to work out who is more important to the country...”

“My kids are important to the country,” Fran said, sharply.

“There’s another issue,” Brian added.  “Five of us have some medical qualifications; twelve of us have experience in medical matters.  If we declare their existence, they may be expected to leave the farm and work for the feds...”

“No,” Jim said, flatly.  “I will not let Linda leave safety and go to a place where she could be infected.  If they couldn't be bothered vaccinating nurses working in a hospital, they won’t do it for her.”

His gaze swept the room.  “We do what we planned to do,” he said.  “We keep our heads down and wait to see what happens.  And then, perhaps, we can make plans.”

Once the perpetra
tor of a biological attack has been uncovered, it is vitally important to retaliate at once, using all the military force at hand.  A show of weakness, when something as dangerous as biological weapons are involved, can be very dangerous.

-Nicolas Awad

Wa
shington DC, USA

Day 23

Nicolas swallowed two pills as the helicopter swooped over Washington, heading for the White House.  Even from high overhead, it was clear that Washington was suffering from civil unrest as well, just like almost every other city i
n the country.  Smoke plumes rose up from some of the poorer areas, while on the streets below armed troops – backed up by tanks and infantry fighting vehicles – patrolled, watching grimly for further signs of trouble.  No cars moved in the streets and few chose to walk out in the open.  The pilot had told him, as they left the airport where Air Force Two had landed, that ground-based air defence systems were tracking the helicopter, ready to shoot it down if something seemed even vaguely suspicious.  Even two decades after 9/11, the Secret Service was still nervous about aircraft flying over Washington, let alone landing at the White House.

The helicopter touched down and a pair of burly security guards helped him out of the aircraft, taking the opportunity to search him quickly and efficiently.  The White House looked like more of a fortress now, with bars in place around the windows and a whole range of other precautions, some of which he recognised from visits to less stable parts of the world.  The Marines outside the fence seemed to be tense, their eyes flickering from side to side as they strove to keep their President safe.  Somehow, the attitude was no longer one of safety, or even being in the single most significant building in the modern world.

“You all look alert,” he commented, once the guards had finished checking his identity.  There had only been vague reports in Russia about the chaos in America, although he’d been struggling to catch up on the return flight.  He’d had to learn about too many things in a hurry.  “What’s been happening here?”

“Hundreds of minor incidents,” the guard growled, as he searched Nicolas’s briefcase for any hidden surprises.  “There have been thousands of threats directed against the President and hundreds of little attacks.  Some moron took a shot with a sniper rifle at someone they thought was the President; a couple of others tried to attack the Marines and were cut down for their pains.”

He seemed disinclined to talk further and Nicolas was almost glad when he was shown through the final barrier and met by the President’s aide.  The Secret Service men shadowed them at a distance as he was escorted through the building and down into the Cabinet Room, where several other men and women were waiting for him.  They all looked tired and worn to his eyes; they were the most powerful men and women in America, yet they could do little to stop Henderson’s Disease.  He gave Colonel Morris – the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases’ current commanding officer – a nod.  Wildfire drew most of its personnel from the USAMRIID register, something that was bitterly resented at times.

“Welcome back, Doctor,” the President said.  She looked haggard, as if she was wasting away under the pressure of events.  “I trust that you had a productive journey?”

“Yes, Madam President,” Nicolas said.  “I followed up one line of enquiry; the Wildfire teams left in the USA followed up a second...and we found ourselves heading towards the same conclusion.  We now know who to blame.”

The President held up a hand.  “Bring the secure links online,” she ordered.  The plasma screens mounted at one end of the room lit up, first with verification signals and then with the faces of the men and women who would not be attending personally.  The Vice President appeared first, followed by the remainder of the President’s Cabinet and a number of the most powerful and influential politicians in America.  Nicolas frowned as he saw the Senate’s Minority Leader, an older politician who had wanted to cut funding into medical research and disease prevention, as well as pushing hard for a ban on several of the more effective vaccines.  The bloggers had been hacking away at his reputation ever since Henderson’s Disease had started to spread out of control.

“All links are online, Madam President,” the systems operator said.  “The links are verified secure; encryption systems are online and functional.”

“Good,” the President said.  “Colonel Morris?”

Nicolas blinked in surprise – he had been expecting to be called first – but said nothing as Colonel Morris stood up.  “Madam President, we at USAMRIID – working closely with the Centre for Disease Control and the World Health Organisation – have been attempting to track the spread of Henderson’s Disease across the world,” he said.  “The news is not good.”

He took control of the display and showed a map of the world, marked with ominous red symbols.  “We believe that the vast majority of states have been infected by this time,” he continued, “although it is hard to collect accurate data.  The Chinese threw the WHO inspection teams out of the country three days after Patient Zero was discovered in the US, so we have very little hard data on the current situation in China.  The reports we do have, however, suggest that China is suffering a massive epidemic, an epidemic made worse because their troops have not been immunised against smallpox.  The slums at the edges of many Chinese cities, Madam President, make ideal breeding grounds for Henderson’s Disease.

“The situation is roughly comparable across India and much of the Far East.  Japan claims to have successfully isolated their early victims and to have prevented it from spreading further; we have no clear proof of this, at least not yet.  There are few reports coming out of the Middle East, but there are definitely reports of cases appearing in North Africa, leading to massive civil unrest.  Latin America is, as we have seen, definitely infected.  The only place that seems to have escaped infection entirely is Cuba, at least so far.  The Cubans cut off traffic in and out of the island as soon as they heard about Patient Zero and it looks as if they might have gotten lucky.  The smaller islands may be in the same state, but they’re going to need supplies from outside, leaving a gap that the disease can exploit.

“Inside the United States, we have upwards of ten thousand – perhaps quite a few more – dead and hundreds of thousands infected,” he concluded.  “By any definition you care to use, it has been the most successful strike against America in all of our history.  It could kill more people than the Civil War or even World War Two.”

The President nodded slowly.  “And is there any process on finding a cure?”

“We’re throwing everything we have at it,” Morris confirmed.  “We now know far more than we did when we thought that we had exterminated smallpox in the wild.  Given time, the researchers are confident that they can find a cure.  The problem is that Henderson’s Disease is actually tougher than regular smallpox; vaccinating someone once they start to show symptoms is completely ineffective.  And then there’s the possibility of it mutating into something more deadly...”

He shook his head.  “We believe that we will succeed, Madam President,” he said.  “Just don’t ask for a timetable.”

The President’s lips twitched.  “You now understand just how serious this situation is,” she said, addressing the room.  Nicolas realised suddenly why she’d ordered Morris to speak first.  The Army officer would tell them exactly how bad the situation was, before Nicolas told them who was responsible for the attack.  It was an interesting tactic, although he wasn't sure if it would work.  The dead were growing so numerous that they were becoming nothing more than statistics.  “Doctor Awad has been working on tracing back the source of the outbreak.”

“Thank you, Madam President,” Nicolas said.  He took the remote and triggered the first briefing slide.  “Just after I departed for Russia, a worker at the Marigold Hotel in New York discovered a young man who had clearly died from Henderson’s Disease.  Once a team of experts arrived and examined the body, it rapidly became clear that this person had died well before Cally Henderson – Patient Zero – was discovered.  Further investigation confirmed that he had not only been infected, but was deliberately spreading the disease throughout New York.

“His name was Ali Mohammad Asiri and he was from Saudi Arabia,” Nicolas continued, trying to keep the hatred out of his voice.  His family had reasons to hate the Saudis that went back further than 9/11 and the Iraq War.  “The young man was the son of a fairly powerful businessman in Saudi Arabia, a man linked to the establishment through the patronage of a number of powerful princes.  He isn't quite on the same scale as the Bin Laden Family, but he was clearly on the way.  There were no red flags in Ali’s file, no reason to believe that he was a terrorist or anything other than a young man out to have fun.  He arrived in the United States five days before Patient Zero was discovered; significantly, he flew in on an aircraft that was employing Miss Henderson as an air hostess.  The vast majority of other people on that aircraft have also been discovered to have caught Henderson’s Disease and most of them have died.”

He frowned as he moved on to the next briefing slide.  The ACLU would have freaked if they had realised just how easy it was to track a person’s movements, even in hindsight, with enough computing power.  Ali’s path through New York had been odd, to say the least, yet there had been nothing to throw up a red flag, not in time to prevent the disease from spreading.  The young man had visited parks, churches...he’d even gone to a baseball game and watched as two of New York’s sports teams battled it out for dominance.  And, as he’d moved, he’d breathed out Henderson’s Disease.  It was easy – in hindsight – to trace how the disease had spread.  It was also far too late.  The primary infection had given way to the secondary and even tertiary infections by the time anyone had realised that the country was under attack.

“Ali did not, however, operate alone,” he continued.  “I’m going to have to go back in time by a couple of years.”

He clicked the side onwards and resumed his speech.  “Two years ago, a young Russian research scientist in their biological warfare program was approached by a wealthy man and offered a vast amount of money for a small titbit of information.  She made the bargain and sold her soul.  Her benefactor wove a careful web around her, bringing her deeper and deeper into his network before he finally started to demand truly dangerous information and items.  She thought that she had no choice; if she confessed, the FSB would lock her up for the rest of time; if she refused, she would simply be betrayed.  Eventually, she gave him a sample of India-1-16, a modified form of smallpox.  We know it better as Henderson’s Disease.”