The Viral Epiphany (6 page)

           
“What’s that?” Sheila asked.
 
Dan hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what to say.
 
He hadn’t told anyone about the previous letters, but he felt he needed to confide in someone.

           
“Come on in,” he said.

           
They entered his office and Dan locked the door behind them.
 
Sheila’s eyes opened a little wider.

           
“I’m not sure what this is,” he said, “but I think it might be the last in a series of letters I have been receiving.
 
If I show it to you, you have to keep it confidential, OK?”

           
“Sure,” she said, without hesitation.

           
Dan briefly told her about the letters he had already received and how they had warned him about an organization called Omega that was apparently some sort of government agency that was involved in some very secretive projects, mostly concerning nuclear materials and diseases related to exposure to radiation.

           
“I have no idea why Tim sent these things to me.
 
I have never had any interest in nuclear energy or physics, and I really don’t know anything about the diseases that are associated with exposure to nuclear materials.
 
It’s very troubling to read all this, but, realistically, I don’t know what he expected me to do.
 
I guess he must have been desperately hoping I could do something, but what?”

           
Sheila listened attentively but had nothing to say at first, then after a few seconds she replied, “He must have had confidence in you, Dan. He must have felt that, however improbable it might seem, you have an important role to play. We’ll just have to see what it is.”

He thought about her words for a moment then nodded in agreement and slowly began opening the envelope.
 

TOP SECRET

MAELSTROM EYES ONLY

17 April 2001

Background:
 
For over fifty years the AEC, and later the Project Omega Office, have worked to study the effects of nuclear materials on humans.
 
Initially, this work was considered only of marginal importance relative to the effect of nuclear detonations themselves.
 
This view was revised after the early results of Project Ghost indicated that while the power of nuclear detonations was truly massive they were also very localized. Project Maelstrom has continued with the analysis of the Three Mile Island and Chernobyl data.
 
This data has clearly shown that airborne dispersal of nuclear contaminants can have a much more lethal effect that the nuclear explosion itself.

Recent Results:
The use of nuclear contaminants as an air-dispersed weapon has many advantages; however, because the technology needed to create the most deadly of the contaminants is very advanced there are very few nations that have the ability to construct such weapons.
 
This greatly hampers the use of such weapons in a clandestine mode because the unique isotopes employed can thus be traced to the likely country of origin.
 
Ultimately, this weapon becomes a doomsday weapon of last resort and not a weapon that has tactical uses.

TOP SECRET

TOP SECRET

New Directions:
Advances in biological science indicate that there may exist, either in nature, or possibly in the laboratory environment, either bacterial, viral, or prion-based diseases that could be dispersed by airborne methods that would have massive killing power.
 
This power is then multiplied greatly if the diseases are contagious.
 
Ultimately, it is found that biological weapons are thus potentially superior to either nuclear weapons or chemical weapons in both their killing potential and also in their untraceability to their original source.

Recommendation:
Proceed with the highest priority with clandestine tests of simulated release of biological agents over populated areas.
 
If these tests prove effective, transition biological strike weapons to active, Top Secret, status.

TOP SECRET

Seven

           
There was not even a sliver of a moon to lighten the darkness.
 
It was one o’clock in the morning at Edwards Air Force Base, California, and all non-essential people had been sent home hours before.
 
Only people with top secret clearances, who had been read into the Nightshade program, were now on the base.
 
The runway and control tower were completely enveloped in the blackness of the night.
 
If anyone had been watching, it would certainly seem that there were no activities at the base.
 

           
The experimental Nightshade aircraft had stopped at the end of the runway, its engines idling almost in silence, while the two-man crew went over their pre-flight checklist.
 
It was not the B-2 stealth bomber that General Baker believed was participating in this test.
 
Indeed, there was no reason for the General to know that this aircraft was the new XB-3 Nightshade – the only one of its kind.
 
The Nightshade was a complete and radical design departure from the now antiquated B-2.
 
Although it incorporated stealth technology that was much improved over the B-2’s, its aerodynamic capabilities were completely different.
 
It was a swing-wing bomber, capable of supersonic high altitude flight.
 
However, when it made its bombing run it could move its wings so that they had almost no swept-back angle.
 
The wings also extended in length so that the wingspan of the plane was effectively doubled.
 
There was an important reason for this: the aircraft made its bombing runs completely silent, as a glider.
 

           
Besides having very different aerodynamic qualities compared to any other aircraft in the U.S. Air Force, the Nightshade also had a very different payload capability.
 
It had no ability to carry either conventional or nuclear bombs.
 
The area that would have been dubbed the bomb bay was instead fitted with a very large plastic bladder that could hold 5,000 gallons of liquid.
 
This bladder was connected to a tail-cone at the rear of the fuselage that would atomize liquid that was pumped from the bladder, thus providing the aircraft with the capability to spray an extremely fine mist of whatever liquid it was carrying over a large area without being detected.
 
The Nightshade, the most deadly weapon ever built, was a stealth, biological attack bomber.

           
The crew of the Nightshade donned their night vision goggles and patiently waited for the final few seconds on the countdown clock to tick by and reach the one-minute mark.
 
There would be no radio contact with the control tower, although it was fully manned. Moments later the clock display read 1:00 and the infrared runway lights were turned on.
 
The entire length of the ten thousand feet of pavement was now bathed in light that was invisible to the human eye.
 
However, using their night vision goggles, the runway now appeared as bright as day to the crew.
 
For the people watching from the control tower there was no indication that the aircraft was about to depart, and, even with their night vision goggles, the control tower crew could barely make out the shape of the aircraft. Then, suddenly, as soon as the countdown clock in the tower reached the 0:00 mark, they saw the infrared runway lights on the far side of the runway begin alternately vanishing and then returning as the Nightshade occulted them as it passed in soundless acceleration.
 
Seconds later it was gone. The infrared runway lights were turned off, utter darkness once again covered the airbase, and the Nightshade was nothing more than the memory of a whisper in the wind.

           
Special agent Mike White was casually strolling along the Las Vegas strip, just outside Caesars Palace.
 
He had an iPod in his shirt pocket and two earphones plugged into his ears. He nodded his head in accompaniment to the beat of a hit song as he walked.
 
To the casual observer, he looked like a young college student enjoying a break from school. He didn’t break his stride, but turned his head only slightly as the music stopped in mid-song and he heard a voice say, “Item 29 confirmed.
 
Now, T minus one hour.”

           
Special agent White was not alone this night in Las Vegas. Twenty other agents, similarly equipped, were also walking about the city listening to iPods.
 
All had just received the same message.

           
General Baker sat at his chair in the Omega underground control room in Alaska. He had watched the display clock count down to zero and then start counting up. It was now reading +38:00.
 
The situational awareness screen displayed a map showing the path of the aircraft and the city of Las Vegas; a small flashing red light on the display indicated the current aircraft position.

           
“She’s moving right along, sir, isn’t she?” Colonel Waters said.

           
“She sure is,” he replied.
 
Then he thought to himself, “
too damn fast for a B-2.
 
Those bastards, they won’t even tell me what the hell they are really doing.”

           
“Something wrong, sir?”

           
“Hmm? Oh, no.
 
Everything’s fine.
 
Just fine.”
 
The red dot moved silently closer to Las Vegas with every passing second.
 
“What’s the status downrange?”

           
Colonel Waters glanced quickly at his console display. “All ten downrange transportable millimeter wave Doppler radar systems are deployed.
 
All indicate they are performing normally, meaning they can each detect an aerosol mist cloud at a range of fifteen miles.
 
All special agents are in assigned positions and will report what they see and feel, as well as any crowd reactions on the strip.”

           
“OK, OK.” He said, with a trace of impatience in his voice, and looked back toward the main display. The aircraft was approaching the city.

           
Having traveled at supersonic speeds at an altitude of 50,000 feet the Nightshade had now turned off its engines and was slowing while it glided downward. Its wings began to slide forward and extend in length at the same time.
 
Ten minutes later it was at an altitude of 2,500 feet at the edge of Las Vegas.
 
The co-pilot flipped the protective cover away from the master release switch and then flipped the switch up to the enable position.

           
“Ten seconds,” the pilot said.

           
“Roger.”

           
“Five, four, three, two, one.”
 
The copilot flipped the switch marked dispense and a massive cloud of water droplets began silently flowing from the aircraft’s tail cone.
 
The bright lights of the city silently glided by below, while the only noise within the plane was a slight swishing noise as the liquid flowed out and turned to mist. Within a few minutes the plane had completed its pass over the city.

Each of the special agents on the streets had momentarily glanced at the sky during this time and then turned to look at other people on the street. No one else had looked up.
 
The droplet cloud spread invisibly and widened quickly as it softly fell to earth – a slight moisture in the air of this sleepless desert city.
 
The Doppler radars tracked the cloud as it slowly descended in the darkness until it was at the level of the top of the buildings.