by Bobby Akart
Harper shook her head and declined. “I’ll be fine.”
“We’re moving toward a whole new phase of our investigation with more possible cases revealing themselves. We both remember the early days of the COVID pandemic. Once it took hold, there were massive disruptions to our social fabric in terms of day-to-day activities. Nobody wants a repeat of those two years.”
Harper agreed. “It was the most daunting virus that the world had contended with since the Spanish flu. HIV, SARS, and Ebola were nothing in comparison to COVID. The problem, sir, is that we’re just starting our investigation. We don’t have near enough facts to identify the disease much less talk about treatment protocols or vaccines. Unlike our experience a decade ago, nobody at the CDC is prepared to jump out there with predictions or conclusions, having only part of the picture.”
“What’s your gut tell you?”
Harper took a deep breath. “In many respects, the virus behaves like influenza or other respiratory viruses. Over time, humans were exposed to influenza and built up an immunity. Oddly, this virus seems to result in the death of some, but not necessarily all it comes in contact with.”
“Are we talking about the usual patient types? Those with preexisting conditions?”
“I don’t think I can say that definitively. The four Chinese men in Las Vegas were the picture of health. The young woman who came in contact with them was as well. I’ve received notification of a similar, unconfirmed case in Austria. The deceased was an Olympian, for Pete’s sake.” She grimaced and then continued. “Yet, both in Vegas and Austria, the infected patients came in contact with elderly persons who became ill but didn’t succumb to the disease.”
“That’s odd,” interjected Dr. Reitherman.
“Yes, sir, but it drives home my point. We’ve only just begun to gather data.”
Dr. Reitherman studied Harper and then leaned forward. “I get the sense you are holding back something or you’re going somewhere with your comments. Spit it out, Harper.”
“Have you noticed who has been noticeably quiet about all of this?” she asked rhetorically.
“Yeah, the same people who just kicked our personnel out of their CDC in violation of the UN-negotiated agreement following COVID-19.”
“Sir, as is often the case, all of our leads point to China. We’ve got to either force their cooperation or conduct our own investigation there.”
Dr. Reitherman laughed. “Well, as we all know, nobody forces the Chinese to do anything. It’s very much a one-way street with them. We have our epidemiologists holed up in the American embassy in Beijing, awaiting my instructions. However, I don’t think they’re capable of wandering around the country in search of patient zero. They don’t have field experience.”
“I do.”
Harper’s response was blunt and to the point. It wasn’t necessary for her to ask the question. Two simple words succinctly delivered her proposal.
“I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no. First off, I need you here. Second, we need you to lie low. Third, um, I’m sure, given time, I can think of third through seventy-seventh.”
Harper smiled. “See, you know I am right. You don’t need me here. You have an entire building of capable epidemiologists plus Becker, who’s privy to everything I know. Second, how much lower can I lie than in the middle of Communist China.”
“Joe won’t allow it.”
Aw, shit! He pulled the husband card.
“Joe and I have an agreement. I don’t tell him how to do his job, and he doesn’t interfere with mine. It’s worked well.”
“Have you suggested this idea to him?” he asked.
“Um, no.” Harper was defensive. “But it wasn’t necessary until I spoke with you first. Come on, Dr. Reitherman. We need answers to avoid falling behind in controlling this sucker. I’m very good at this.”
“The best, but China is different from Africa or even Syria. Do I need to remind you how dangerous those two places were?”
“True, they’re different from China. Those places are lawless. You know, people driving in Jeeps through jungles and sand dunes while firing machine guns at me.”
Dr. Reitherman laughed. “Thanks for reminding me. You’re never going back to either one of those places, either.”
“What? Never mind that. China is different. They don’t gun people down in the street.”
“Do you remember Tiananmen Square? The tank?”
“Yes, and that was decades ago. Plus, they didn’t blast the guy, now did they?”
Dr. Reitherman was losing the argument. He thought for a moment, and Harper sat back in her chair, hoping to gain his approval. For an awkward minute, nothing was said between them. Then Dr. Reitherman pressed on his telephone and buzzed his secretary.
“Yes, sir?”
“Try to get me Congressman Joe Mills on the phone.”
“Wait! You can’t call Joe. He’ll blow a gasket.”
“No, he won’t. He’ll be reasonable, logical, and—”
“On your side.” Harper cut off his sentence. She slouched in the chair, dejected.
Chapter Seventeen
CDC Headquarters
Atlanta, Georgia
“Harper, I’m gonna have to agree with Berger on this one.” Joe began to relay his decision after hearing Harper plead her case. The three had been on the speakerphone for fifteen minutes. “As you said, in China, they don’t shoot you. They do, however, make you disappear. Poof! Gone. Knowledge of your existence would have to be totally disavowed by our government.”
Harper was undeterred. In a way, she was glad she hadn’t brought the topic up to Joe on the phone the night before. She was saving her closing arguments for last.
“I wouldn’t just disappear, Joe. Why couldn’t I get the CIA to help me? I’m sure the American embassy is full of those guys.” She paused and then turned her attention to her boss. “I have a note on my schedule that the same two, I assume, secret agent guys are meeting with us this afternoon. Am I right?”
“Yes, but it’s because they want to discuss the files sent over—” responded Dr. Reitherman before Harper interrupted.
“I know, sir. Can I bring this up to them? Maybe they have some suggestions?”
He shrugged and then thought for a moment. “Joe?”
“Yes?”
“I need an honest answer, okay?”
“Sure.”
“If certain controls could be put in place, would you reconsider your decision?”
Joe hesitated on the line and then replied, “You know I worry about the safety of my wife. I could never live without her. However, I am not an overprotective husband, and I certainly don’t dictate what she can and cannot do.”
Harper waved her right arm at Dr. Reitherman. “Hello? Guys? I’m sitting right here.”
Dr. Reitherman laughed and ignored her. “Joe, I think the reason I admire your wife so much is because she reminds me of mine.”
“I feel for you, my friend.”
Harper protested. “Hey! I heard that!”
The three shared a laugh, which helped to ease the tension. Dr. Reitherman explained what he meant by the word controls, although he continued to address Joe as he discussed Harper’s fate.
“Joe, what if we chip her?”
Joe responded quickly, “Microchip implants have been used in our dark ops people for years. They frequently have to go into deep cover without comms. Oftentimes, it’s the only way we can recover them, whether dead or alive.”
“That’s comforting,” quipped Harper.
Dr. Reitherman continued, turning his attention to Harper. “Consider this. Microchip technology has become a method of integrating biology and technology in many ways. It started years ago with pets as a means to locate a lost dog or cat. Then, as Joe said, it was utilized by our Defense Department in special operations missions. If we chip you, we can track your whereabouts and, if the CIA can give us some assurances, send in an extraction team if necessary.
”
Harper chimed in. “I think you guys have implanted a chip in me already. Why do I get the sense you two track me? You both seem to know where I am and what I am up to.”
“That’s my job,” said Dr. Reitherman.
“Mine too, love,” added Joe. “I can go along with chipping as a way to keep abreast of her whereabouts. However, there is something else. I cannot sign off on you going in there alone.”
“Nobody here is qualified to do what I need to do. Plus, I wouldn’t want them to take that risk.”
“But it’s okay for you to?” asked Joe.
He has a point.
Harper challenged the two men. “I’m a seasoned veteran. Does anyone disagree?”
“No,” replied her boss. “Joe, we do have a meeting with the CIA this afternoon. Maybe they can provide her a security escort?”
“That won’t help, sir,” countered Harper. “If I’m gonna take a companion, it needs to be an epidemiologist or at least someone familiar with biosciences. I might be seeing patients, both alive and dead, who can provide me lab samples.”
Harper paused as she heard Joe cupping the handset and speaking to someone in his office. She and Dr. Reitherman both waited for him to return to the call.
Finally, Harper tried to get his attention. “Joe?”
“Sorry, I’m here. I have a subcommittee work session to attend, and I’ve got to deal with another issue first.”
Harper understood and she was amazed that she was able to have her husband’s ear for this length of time during morning rush hour, as he referred to the start of any day when Congress was in session.
“I know, honey. I was just saying that if we can make this work, I can’t just take someone along who’s a hired gun.”
“Yeah, sorry. I heard that. Listen, I’ve got a guy. Text me after you’ve met with the agency. Love you. You too, Berger.”
Joe disconnected the call and Harper smiled at Dr. Reitherman.
“He always has a guy. Do you wanna know how many times I’ve heard I’ve gotta guy since the day we met?”
Dr. Reitherman exuded a sense of calm. “I’m anxious to see what he comes up with, okay?”
Chapter Eighteen
House Subcommittee on National Security
2154 Rayburn Office Building
Washington, DC
Joe was the last to arrive at the subcommittee working session. It was not a formally held gathering, but certain House of Representatives’ parliamentary procedures needed to be followed. In recent years, House rules were changed to allow spectators in the room subject to the usual decorum requirements. Typically, for working sessions like this one, a junior beat reporter might be in attendance and perhaps a group from a high school civics class.
When Joe entered the room from the rear entrance, he was astonished to find a packed house. There was nothing on the agenda that he was aware of that might warrant this much attention. Cameras were set up by the networks and cable news outlets. He even recognized some of the more prominent television reporters who covered Congress.
He could feel the energy lift as the attendees scrambled to take a seat. All eyes were upon him as he slid into the chairman’s seat and reached for the gavel. He spun around for a moment and searched for his chief of staff, Andy Spangler. He wasn’t seated behind him, and then he realized Spangler was handling an errand for him. Joe was on his own and in the dark.
He smacked the gavel down three times and made his normal introduction. “This is the Subcommittee on National Security, which falls under the House Committee on Oversight and Reform. I am Chairman Joe Mills.
“Generally, this subcommittee has oversight jurisdiction over matters of national security, homeland security, foreign operations, immigration, defense, veterans’ affairs, and jurisdiction over federal acquisition policy related to national security.
“For the media and the general public, no matters of national security are discussed during these working sessions. We do not take questions from the media or the gallery. We do take witness testimony. However, it is not under oath. A working session is exactly what it sounds like. It is an opportunity for the members of this subcommittee to get together to discuss proposed and pending legislation regarding the matters I’ve outlined at the start of my statement.”
Joe paused. He’d made this statement many times over the years, so he didn’t need the benefit of notes or a script. There was an agenda, which covered ordinarily mundane things plus several funding issues since Congress was still locking horns with the administration over the budget in an effort to avoid a shutdown.
He flipped through the three-ring binder of the agenda prepared by his staff. He was about to begin when one of his aides tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a handwritten note. It was a message from Spangler. He concealed it from the prying eyes of the ranking member on the committee. He was one of the president’s most vocal supporters on the Hill.
Ambush. Vegas blindside. Watch your ass.
Joe took a deep breath and allowed himself a smile. They were coming at him from all sides now. Fine. He was ready.
“We’ll be rearranging today’s agenda slightly to accommodate a member’s schedule. The first topic we’ll be addressing is the funding request for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Allow me to defer to the ranking member for two minutes.”
Joe smiled inwardly. Everything about his announcement was out of sorts and designed to throw the ranking member of the president’s party off-kilter. The only item on today’s agenda remotely related to Harper and the outbreak in Las Vegas was the WHO funding. Joe would allow the congressman an opportunity to fire first, leaving him the ability to rebut and make a closing argument. It would be the last words the jury in the court of public opinion would hear.
After stumbling and stammering through the first thirty seconds of his allotted time for opening remarks, the congressman began to repeat the same political talking points given to the Nevada governor and the president’s surrogates, who’d flooded the airwaves in the last forty-eight hours. Joe allowed him to speak as he made several references to the falsehood that Harper had suggested the Las Vegas quarantine.
Joe remained stoic throughout, occasionally taking notes, which amounted to nothing more than a doodle on a legal pad. He didn’t care what the congressman had to say about Harper or the political spin being disseminated through the media about the quarantine. He was prepared for his response.
The timer hit two minutes. Joe interrupted the long-winded congressman from California. He had to be careful, as he didn’t want to be perceived as defending his wife. That was the trap being set for him. Instead, he made a powerful statement on behalf of the CDC.
“Today, we are here to discuss the funding request for the CDC, an agency whose mission is to keep America safe from deadly infectious diseases and other threats. These threats can take many forms. Deadly pathogens are one. Biological weapons and bioterror are another. Zoonotic transmission of zika and yellow fever, for example, are also a threat to the safety of all Americans.
“To be sure, one might argue that nuclear missiles and electromagnetic pulse attacks can bring our country to its knees. Our Department of Defense is well prepared to repel those threats. Our military might, despite prior attempts to slash the DOD’s budget, is second to none. I firmly believe the CDC—which is charged with the responsibility of preventing, detecting, and responding to disease threats, both in America and around the world—deserves the same tools other national security departments receive.
“We learned with Ebola that in just thirty-six hours, an outbreak in a remote village can reach major cities on any continent, spurring a global crisis. Even outbreaks that don’t cross national borders can have an adverse economic impact on the United States.
“The CDC has put together a means to reduce the impact of global health threats on our nation in many ways. The Global Disease Detection Operations Center monitors threats from nearly two hundred natio
ns daily. The Rapid Response Team of more than four hundred epidemiologists and scientists can deploy in as little as forty-eight hours.
“Infectious diseases will never go away, and the hardworking individuals within the Epidemic Intelligence Service know this and risk their lives to protect us from this real and ancient threat. In fact, nobody—I mean nobody in this room, or in Washington, DC, or around this nation—cares more about protecting American citizens from infectious diseases than the virus hunters of the EIS.
“Let me explain something else. They are keenly aware that the decisions they make and the suggestions they give our government officials have a profound effect on people’s lives. They recognize the human toll goes well beyond the illness of infected patients. The impacts of global outbreaks tear into the souls of families, healthcare systems, communities and economies, which can become destabilized by their advice.
“The CDC doesn’t get the benefit of second guesses. Monday-morning quarterbacks or bigmouth pundits—who, if they’re wrong, simply slough it off and wait for their next media appearance—don’t impact lives like the disease detectives. That’s why they’re meticulous, detailed, and methodical about their work. That’s why they move quickly when a possible outbreak occurs to gather all the facts before they make suggestions to our government on how to act.
“You see, they understand that while global health security is good for the United States, instilling panic in its citizens is not. Just as disease outbreaks can cost lives, responding to a perceived threat out of fear can destroy communities, economies, and families.”
Joe paused and glanced down at the timer. He was well beyond his five-minute time allotment, but he held the gavel, and nobody could stop him. He took a deep breath and concluded his statement.
“Call me cynical, but the use of the CDC, an agency critical to the protection of our country, as a political pawn in any manner is outrageous even by Washington standards. If this subcommittee wants to debate the necessity of the dollars requested in the current budget, let’s have that debate. But to use an isolated event, which is disputed, as a form of leverage is unconscionable.
