Virus Hunters 2: A Medical Thriller

by Bobby Akart

  “Wait,” interrupted Harper.

  “Special forces?” asked Kwon. Both of their voices revealed their inner excitement.

  “Here,” explained Dr. Basnet. He handed the file folder to Kwon.

  Kwon scanned the report buried at the back of the folder. It was a brief assignment notification that had made its way into the man’s medical file. He shook his head in disbelief and then turned to Harper.

  “He was part of a mission to rescue hikers on Mount Everest. Apparently, the group was near the top when one or more of them became ill and brought many in the group down with them. The deployment was made because some kind of a ladder, I believe, was damaged, cutting off those on top of the mountain from returning to the base camps. Some of the bodies fell over the cliff and are still there. The families didn’t have the forty thousand dollars required to retrieve them. They brought the one back.”

  “Yes, that is correct,” interjected Yeshi. “It was a contentious topic among the sherpas. We are the most capable of rescuing stranded hikers. This time, because of the Chinese Ladder being damaged, they used the military and their Siberian Tigers.”

  Harper sprang out of her chair. Her eyes lowered and she leaned on Dr. Basnet’s desk to bring her face closer to Yeshi. It frightened the young man.

  “What did you say?”

  “Siberian Tigers. They are—”

  “I know who they are,” Harper interrupted. She turned to Kwon. “Do you see any confirmation of this in the file?”

  “Looking.”

  Harper was back to Yeshi and Dr. Basnet. “Are you absolutely certain of this?”

  “Yes,” replied the young man. “Why?”

  “This is very important. Do you know how many of these Siberian Tigers were on board the helicopter flight with the pilot in there?” She pointed toward the plate-glass door leading to the quarantine unit’s morgue.

  He hesitated before replying, “I believe they said four.” And then after a moment, he confirmed his belief. “I am sure. There were four soldiers plus the pilot.”

  “Kwon?” asked Harper as she spun around to stare at her partner.

  “I hear you.”

  Harper walked away from the desk. She wandered Dr. Basnet’s office and rubbed her temples with both hands. She tried to settle down. It had been a long journey and she didn’t want to see something that wasn’t there. However, it was a lead that couldn’t be disregarded and was perhaps the most important step yet to finding patient zero.

  “There’s nothing else in here,” said Kwon as he handed the folder back to Dr. Basnet. “What do you want to do?”

  Harper turned and approached the men. “We have to conduct the autopsy and let me preserve blood and tissue samples the best I can. It’s not a perfect scenario, but it’s a start.”

  Kwon stood and pulled Harper aside. In a barely audible whisper, he said, “This may be the connection to the Chinese military the agency was looking for.”

  She nodded. Turning to Dr. Basnet, she said, “Let’s get started.”

  During those intense moments when the group of four made this startling connection, a guard from the base security patrol wandered into the infirmary and down the hallway leading to Dr. Basnet’s office. He stopped at the office’s window unnoticed for a moment before casually strolling away.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Military Quarantine Facility

  85th Air Defense Brigade

  Lhasa Gonggar Airport

  Lhasa, Tibet, China

  Dr. Basnet led Harper and Kwon down a hallway to an inconspicuous door marked quarantine morgue in Chinese script. The first space was designed to suit up. Harper immediately noticed the lack of sufficient PPE considering they were about to examine a corpse that likely belonged in a BSL-4. Before Yeshi took a position to watch the front of the building, he was sent to the ambulance to retrieve several rolls of duct tape used by the ambulance personnel to confine uncontrollable patients.

  The dressing area contained both all-white cotton scrubs and yellow biohazard suits. Kwon and Harper chose to wear the biohazard suits over their clothing. Dr. Basnet, despite Harper’s admonitions to the contrary, chose the scrubs. He commented that he was an old man and had no time to concern himself with diseases. Harper thought maybe he had a death wish.

  They geared up and entered the morgue. Dr. Basnet, with the assistance of Kwon, retrieved the partially decomposed body of the helicopter pilot from the cadaver locker. At first sight, Harper shook her head in dismay. She’d gather as many samples as she could, but they might not stand up to the rigid scrutiny applied by the CDC.

  The biggest drawback of this autopsy was that Dr. Basnet did not have the usual vials and secured containers Harper was used to working with. This small facility had none of the basics found at the CDC, or even Dr. Boychuck’s examination room in Las Vegas. She’d asked to bring a UTM kit with her on the flight, but the CIA had issued a firm not gonna happen. It would’ve been a sure sign Harper was much more than an English tutor.

  Instead of using the UTM kit’s screw-cap plastic tubes, Harper was pleased that Dr. Basnet had a variety of glass tube vials and accompanying labels. Her samples of the body’s organs couldn’t be that large, but they were something. Also, Kwon could carry everything in the cargo pockets of his khaki pants.

  They got to work and talked as they moved quickly but methodically through the process. Harper tried to put their next step out of her mind so she didn’t overlook anything. However, she couldn’t stop talking about the pursuit of patient zero.

  Dr. Basnet understood the importance of her mission and relayed what he recalled from the pandemic of a decade prior.

  “The Party stalled and covered up the truth for a very long time. By the time the rest of the world understood the threat in mid-March of 2020, our country had experienced infections and deaths dating back to the middle of November in Wuhan. You see, doctors were aware of the problem when a man of fifty-five years contracted the coronavirus in the Huanan Seafood Market located in Wuhan. The government hid this from World Health until December. Many warnings were issued by fellow physicians, but they were stifled.”

  Harper took samples as Dr. Basnet performed the autopsy, which was anything but. It was more of a tissue-harvesting expedition, but none of the three doctors seemed to be concerned about the ethics of their actions at the moment.

  “The seafood market was located near the Wuhan Institute of Virology, where they conducted testing on highly infectious diseases,” said Harper as she worked. She used a scalpel to gather her samples, and then she provided the vials to Kwon for labeling. “It was determined that a lab worker had accidentally infected himself and then came in contact with the man you mentioned. He was patient zero, and the novel coronavirus strain originally came from a bat, as they often do.”

  “I must ask,” Dr. Basnet began. “Bats are the most likely culprit in situations like these. Why is it so important for you to risk your lives to look for a different answer?”

  Kwon looked to Harper to provide the response. It was a question he’d asked her on the flight to Hawaii from Fort Belvoir.

  “The genetic markers don’t add up. Our analysis indicates this novel virus carries the genetic traits of SARS-like viruses from horseshoe bats, which enables it to use angiotensin-converting enzymes to gain entry into human cells. More specifically, ACE2.”

  “You’re saying these markers are not precise?” asked Dr. Basnet.

  “Close, but there is something else involved. It doesn’t give us sufficient accuracy to create a vaccine. Without a vaccine, we cannot stem the spread without a repeat of the lockdown measures of 2020. As my fellow Americans proved during the flu season of 2020 into 2021, we had no appetite for a lockdown as the second wave of COVID-19 hit us.”

  “We did not have a second wave,” commented Dr. Basnet.

  “The Chinese are more compliant,” said Kwon in a low voice. “The Party sees to that.”

  Dr. Basnet shrugged a
nd finished exposing the patient’s vital organs to Harper so she could collect the last of the samples. Just as she stepped away from the table, Yeshi began slapping the glass windows in the hallway looking into the dressing area. He was waving his arms and pointing toward the door. Harper and Kwon swung around just as Yeshi darted away.

  “We have to go!” exclaimed Harper.

  “There is no time,” countered Dr. Basnet. “Allow me to stall them while you prepare.”

  “Prepare for what?” she asked, her voice rising a few octaves. “Our guns are in the dressing area and we’re covered in the blood of a diseased corpse.”

  “Lure them into the dressing area,” instructed Kwon. “We’ll be ready.”

  “With what?” asked Harper.

  He ignored her question and turned to Dr. Basnet. “Go!” The man afflicted with Parkinson’s steadied his nerves and exited the room. He positioned himself by the door, his bloody hands held stiffly by his sides.

  “Do we have to fight?” asked Harper. “Maybe we can—?”

  Kwon rummaged through the autopsy room’s tool cabinet. He retrieved a bone saw and a twelve-inch knife that resembled a kitchen butcher knife. He handed the knife to Harper so she held it in a reverse grip in her right hand. Then he placed the bone saw in her left hand.

  “We’ll know based upon the way he’s treated,” replied Kwon. He took charge and issued his instructions. “Listen to me. Hide behind the door. When they enter, I will act nonchalant, but I will have something for them. When the last of them enters the room, I will say last. I want you to punch hard at the last soldier with your right hand. The knife blade will slash into the guard. Then slash backwards with the bone saw. Make as many cuts as you can to force him to drop his weapon. Watch.”

  Kwon punched the air with his right hand and then drew his left arm across his chest before slashing outward toward the imaginary assailant. Harper emulated his actions.

  “I’m ready,” said Harper with obvious determination in her voice.

  Kwon motioned for her to get ready, and he turned back to the mutilated corpse with a handful of scalpels in his hand. With Harper’s back pressed against the wall behind the door, Kwon stood over the pilot’s body. He positioned himself so he could observe what was happening in the dressing room through a mirror affixed to the far wall. With a deep breath, Kwon prepared for battle, as they were about to have company.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Military Quarantine Facility

  85th Air Defense Brigade

  Lhasa Gonggar Airport

  Lhasa, Tibet, China

  Kwon made quick work of gathering his weapons, continuously monitoring the mirror to observe who interacted with Dr. Basnet. The guards came into view, and he verbally announced the tally to Harper. Four men, all armed with rifles. They forced their way into the dressing area, and shouting could easily be heard through the glass window that separated the two rooms. Dr. Basnet tried to assure the soldiers that there was no need for alarm. Their response caused Kwon to grip his first weapon out of anger. The interrogating soldier swung his rifle around and, using the butt-end of the weapon, slammed it into the chest of the old doctor, knocking him backwards onto the floor.

  Kwon gritted his teeth and snarled, “Be ready!”

  His body tensed as the soldiers moved toward the autopsy room with their weapons at low ready. They assumed Kwon, who continued to simulate working on the corpse, was unaware of their presence. They were wrong.

  One of them slammed their fist on the plate-glass window in an attempt to get his attention. Without looking up, Kwon raised a bloody glove partially in the air as if to acknowledge that someone wanted to enter the autopsy room.

  They beat on the window a second time. Kwon kept his eyes on the mirror to watch them. He hoped they didn’t open fire out of frustration. If they were going to do that, he assumed, the first gunshot victim would’ve been Dr. Basnet.

  The guards’ chatter was barely discernible through the door and the plate-glass window. The men seemed to be debating what to do next.

  Good. Uncertainty.

  Kwon set his jaw as he readied himself. Then the moment came in which they breached the space. He watched as they entered, one by one, until the last had cleared the door, allowing it to close behind him.

  “Last!” he shouted as he simultaneously shoveled blood-soaked organs out of the cadaver’s body cavity.

  Heart. Spleen. Slices of the lung, liver and stomach peppered the guards.

  As instructed, Harper struck. She let out a guttural, primal scream as she ripped the knife into the bicep of the last guard to enter, followed by a slash across his midsection with the bone saw.

  Before the other three could recover from the onslaught of blood and gore, Kwon had spun around. His left hand held half a dozen #10 blade scalpels, the large curved cutting edge used for large incisions in soft tissue. He flung them like he would a knife, the delicately balanced surgical instruments striking the other three guards like they were pincushions.

  The guards tried to fight off the attack but only crashed into one another before losing their footing on the blood-soaked tile floor. Neither Kwon nor Harper hesitated. Kwon threw three more of the triangular-bladed instruments. All of them were precision strikes reaching their victims about the face and neck.

  With the last assailant still standing, he grabbed his last tool, a Virchow Skull Breaker, a chisel-like tool with a three-inch-long handle. He gripped it between his bloody-gloved fingers and rushed the last guard. With an upward motion, he drove the chiseled blade into the man’s esophagus, leaving him gripping his throat before dying.

  He confirmed the soldiers were all dead, and then he turned his attention to Harper. She was shaking. He grasped her by both arms and firmly squeezed her.

  “Harper, I need you to keep it together, do you understand? This is not over!”

  Her eyes were wide as she glanced down at the carnage. “Okay.”

  He intentionally used her name to remind her of who she was. “Look at me, not them. Harper, we have to go.”

  She nodded and then looked around the room. “Where are the samples?”

  Kwon patted a yellow, fanny-pack-style pouch tucked against his left hip. “Got it. Come on.”

  He took the knife from Harper and slowly opened the door. Dr. Basnet was doubled over on the floor, gasping for breath.

  “My god!” she exclaimed. She was about to kneel down by his side when the Tibetan doctor raised his hand to stop her. His body was shaking.

  “I’ll be fine. You must go!”

  “Doctor, where does it—?”

  He cut off her question. “Go, now! There will be more.”

  “Harper, listen to him. Carefully get out of your suit.” Kwon had already removed the biohazard suit and was in the process of retrieving their weapons from a locker when he heard voices. “Hurry!”

  His sense of urgency snapped Harper back into the present. She moved away from the plate-glass window overlooking the hallway and hid behind a wall. She quickly, but delicately, removed the biohazard suit and gingerly stepped away from the blood splatter on the floor. She grabbed some nitrile gloves off a utility shelf and put them on. She found a red biohazard bag and crammed the fanny pack full of vials into it before sealing it.

  Kwon nodded to her and handed her the carbine. “Don’t shoot me, please.”

  Harper frowned and then nodded. She pulled the rear charging handle on the Sig MPX and stood behind the wall. Kwon assisted Dr. Basnet to crawl under a wooden bench near the lockers. Kwon then dropped to a low crouch in the far corner of the dressing area and trained his weapon on the door.

  Two more soldiers rushed down the hallway, glanced into the dressing area, and charged in with their weapons ready to fire. The staccato burst of hollow-point rounds from Kwon’s weapon tore through their bodies and killed them instantly.

  “Let’s go!” he shouted, stepping over the bodies into the hallway, his head on a swivel, looking f
or his next target.

  Harper paused and spoke to Dr. Basnet. “Thank you, Doctor. You have saved many lives.”

  “Thug je che.” A simple thank you and a slight wave of the hand. But it was his smile that spoke volumes. He was a courageous man prepared to deal with the aftermath of the slaughter.

  “Harper!”

  “Coming!”

  She raced into the hallway and joined Kwon at the front entrance of the infirmary. “Yeshi is still here somewhere. I hear sirens, so more on the way. Let’s roll.”

  “Lead the way,” said Harper. As they exited the building, Yeshi’s head poked out of the driver’s window.

  “Back! Get in the back!”

  He started the ambulance and revved the engine to get their ride ready. He turned on the sirens and lights before speeding toward the gated exit.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Military Quarantine Facility

  85th Air Defense Brigade

  Lhasa Gonggar Airport

  Lhasa, Tibet, China

  “They’re closing the gap!” shouted Kwon. He moved into the passenger seat to view their options. As Yeshi sped closer to the guarded exit, Kwon realized they couldn’t shoot their way through it. Two security patrol vehicles were blocking the way. “Bear right!”

  “But the exit is there!” shouted Yeshi in response.

  “We’re going to make our own exit. Where the security wall began near the cargo warehouses along the road, a chain-link fence cut across the perimeter, separating the civilian area from the base.”

  “Yes.” Yeshi nodded.

  “Guys, they’re closing on us!” shouted Harper.

  Both men turned to confirm.

  Kwon patted Yeshi on the right shoulder. “Drive through it.”

  “Then what?” He studied the cars closing on his bumper through the driver’s side mirror. “They’re almost here.”