by Bobby Akart
“Okay, but listen to me. The media is here.”
Mac stopped momentarily and said, “No surprise there.”
“Yeah, but you don’t understand. Mac, you’re famous, but not necessarily in a good way.”
Chapter 2
Day Twenty-Eight
Rayburn House Office Building
Washington, DC
Thousands of spectators had gathered on the Capitol Hill lawn across the street. The courtyard-style entrance to the Rayburn building prevented Hunter from seeing the entire perimeter of the building, but it resembled an inauguration day parade for a newly elected President, without the waving flags.
Mac emerged from a side exit, which was now guarded by two National Guardsmen in full riot gear. The hearing had been streaming live on TV monitors in the Subway restaurant located near the center of the Rayburn building, and for the most part, Hunter was enjoying the spectacle, especially as he admired Mac’s fortitude. Despite the absurdity of the political rancor between the members of the committee, Mac had stood firm.
But when the coughing fit had started and the race to the exit began, the fact that Mac didn’t move concerned Hunter. He thought she might have been in shock, so he raced through the hallways to reach Rayburn room 2123, but found it locked down and guarded by the time he arrived.
For the first time in his life Hunter found himself afraid for the safety of someone else that he loved. He’d searched the grounds frantically, ignoring the impending quarantine. He wanted to make sure Mac hadn’t been infected.
“Hunter!” Mac shouted from across the horseshoe entry, grabbing Hunter’s attention. She mouthed several other words, but the deafening sirens reverberating off the walls of the Cannon Building across South Capitol Street prevented him from hearing her.
He raced through the crowd and immediately scooped her up in a bear hug. Mac tried to push him away. “Hunter, I might be infected.”
“I don’t care. We’re together,” he truthfully replied. Nothing mattered anymore except for Mac’s safety and well-being.
The two finally separated and he inspected her clothing. “I don’t see any blood.”
Mac finally removed her mask, goggles, and gloves and shoved them into her briefcase. “I was too far away. Hunter, they went nuts in there.”
“Hey, look around. They’ve gone nuts out here too. I don’t know how they did it, but they cordoned off this complex within minutes. The DC cops know how to deal with a crisis like this one.”
Shouts followed by pushing and shoving came from the entrance to the building. Hunter instinctively put his body between the ruckus and Mac. It was the media, together with several dozen curious onlookers.
“Dr. Hagan! Dr. Hagan! Would you care to comment?”
“Did that man have the plague?”
“Are we all infected?”
The last question triggered more panic.
“Plague!” screamed an elderly woman.
“Are you kidding me?” screamed another.
The crowd started to close around Mac and Hunter. Hunter surmised that Mac was about to be persecuted for the crime of a man coughing. It was human nature to panic in the face of crisis. But in today’s society, the next step was to immediately point fingers of blame. None of this was Mac’s fault, but Hunter knew he’d lose the argument in the face of the rabid media.
“Is it safe from the disease inside?” asked Hunter.
“Probably,” she replied. “Hunter, the odds that this man had the—”
“Mac,” he interrupted, “let’s go back in and find a place to hunker down until the police get things under control.”
“Okay, this way.”
Mac led him backwards through the crowd and the two of them ducked to attempt to lose the trailing media photographers. The two guardsmen at the rear exit were arguing with a well-dressed man that Hunter recognized as Congressman Trent Franks from Arizona. Congressman Franks was a strong proponent of border security.
Hunter eased up behind the guardsmen, uninterested in the nature of the argument. When the door opened with another panicked staffer beating a hasty exit, Hunter grabbed Mac by the hand and they hustled inside. The door closed behind them as the gaggle of media began screaming at the guardsmen, further distracting their attention.
“Let’s find an office where we can catch our breath,” said Hunter. They made their way through the empty hallway, looking for an unlocked door. Now, the rear entry of Rayburn 2123 had been locked.
“Hunter, here’s one—Congressman McHenry, from North Carolina. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Mac’s phone buzzed with a text message.
Janie: WTH? R U OK?
Mac quickly responded.
Mac: We’re fine. Locked into congressman’s office. Can’t leave building. Keep me posted.
Janie: Everyone here is worried for you. Not D-Bag. He’s on the warpath.
Mac: LOL. I imagine so. Let me get back to you.
Hunter peered through the blinds of the congressman’s office, which overlooked the horseshoe drive in the east courtyard. Riot police with horses arrived on the scene and they were keeping the occupants of the Rayburn building away from the police barricades. The thick glass windows prevented Hunter from hearing anything outside.
He turned his attention to Mac. She’d set down her phone and her shoulders slumped out of dejection. He could tell she was hurting inside.
“Come here,” he said as she stepped toward him for a hug. Her tough exterior melted and she began to cry.
“Hunter, did I do the wrong thing? I wanted to get their attention. You should’ve seen how they acted. All they care about is political posturing. They don’t care about protecting Americans from the worst medical disaster in the nation’s history.”
“I watched it all on a TV in a Subway restaurant. I thought you did great. Honestly, when the guy started hacking, I thought you brought him in as a prop.”
“What?” she asked.
“I thought it was pretty effective to have someone coughing up blood to, you know, drive the point home.”
Mac laughed away her tears. “That wasn’t a prop, but it was effective, wasn’t it?”
Mac broke loose from his hug and walked to the window. The crowd was starting to calm down as they came to the realization that they were stuck until medically cleared. At this point, an Incident Command Post would have been established and key emergency health personnel would have been contacted. The epidemiologists at CDC-Washington were probably en route, and the Emergency Operations Center was probably buzzing with activity.
“Mac, they may have us locked down for days while they sort this out. I’ve seen the Army’s regulations on quarantines. They’ve been uniformly adopted by the military for all types of scenarios, including health emergencies.”
“Yeah, AR 40-12. Here’s the thing. The assumption of everyone is that the man has the plague, just because I was talking about it. That’s a huuuge stretch. There are more than a dozen common illnesses that can cause someone to throw up blood. The vomiting may have been his body’s reaction to seeing his own bloody mucus from the coughing fit.”
“You’re gonna make me puke too.”
“Sorry.” She laughed. “Here’s my point. They say in comedy, timing is everything. In this case, it could be the convergence of two events, and because of the timing, we have all of this.” Mac gestured out the window at the massive buildup of law enforcement around the several hundred staffers and guests who had emerged from the Rayburn building.
“When I ran to room 2123 to check on you, they had the man stretched out on the floor and nobody was within ten feet of the guy. He was unconscious and no one was willing to help him.”
“Unfortunately for him, that’s the proper protocol,” added Mac. “If he is suspected of having the plague, a ten-foot minimum radius is considered safe. They’ll have to keep him subdued until properly suited medical personnel arrive on the scene.”
Hunter approached
the window and saw the police creating a wide path to allow four ambulance personnel to enter the courtyard, wearing bright yellow hazmat suits and toting a stretcher.
“You mean like those guys?”
Chapter 3
Day Twenty-Eight
South Lawn, White House
Washington, DC
“Our Kevin Corke is with the President on the South Lawn of the White House. Kevin, is the President being evacuated?” asked Fox News anchor Shepherd Smith.
“Well, Shep, not technically. The President was about to board Marine One for a campaign event at Dr. Henry Wise Jr. High School in nearby Maryland when news of the incident at the Rayburn House Office Building broke. The President’s Secret Service detail informed the Chief of Staff as my producer was informing me of the incident. Now, it is unclear whether the President is continuing on to the event, or whether the plans have changed to take him to another destination.”
“Kevin, thus far, neither the FBI nor the White House has commented on whether this might be terrorist related. What have you heard from the President’s staff?” asked Smith.
“They’ve been very tight-lipped on the entire situation. Until further word is received from investigators, I imagine the White House will not comment further. I can say this, based upon experience. If terrorism is suspected, the President’s schedule will be altered to protect him from another attack. Back to you, Shep.”
“Well, folks, there you have it. Here’s what we know at this time. During a congressional hearing involving the funding of the CDC and its recent investigation into outbreaks of a mysterious disease in Central America, a commotion occurred in the back of the room, involving a man and the spreading of blood on others in the gallery. We don’t know if the act was intentional or simply a bad coughing fit, but fear has gripped the nation’s capital in a way that hasn’t occurred since the attacks on the Pentagon on 9/11. You must stay with us as this breaking news unfolds.”
*****
President Tomas Garcia and his Chief of Staff, Andrew Morse, settled into the new Sikorsky VH-92A together with several members of the President’s staff. All were on the phone, gathering information to report to Morse.
The newly commissioned Marine One built by Sikorsky Aircraft was state of the art. Its plush executive interior was just the dressing on a battle-ready transport that combined the roles of hunter, killer, and evader. It also had the range to carry the President six hundred miles away from Washington, if necessary, to keep him safe.
“Okay, Andrew, what’s the latest?” asked President Garcia.
“It’s fairly simple, actually. During the Energy and Commerce Committee briefing on the CDC’s response in Guatemala, all hell broke loose. Sarah, pull up the footage from C-SPAN for the President to see.”
Sarah responded, “Mr. Morse, it’s on every cable news outlet. The big three even broke into their regular programming on the networks.”
Another staffer interrupted. “It’s blown up social media. Twitter, Facebook and YouTube. The video has received over a million hits already!”
“Show me!” yelled President Garcia as he leaned forward to remove his jacket. Marine One lifted off and began its departure down the south lawn amidst the two-hundred-year-old oak trees. “By the way, where are we going?”
“The campaign appearance at the school was cancelled. It was a marginal event anyway. The real reason for going to Maryland was the fund-raiser. Our campaign people will collect the money anyway. We’re headed for Camp David until we get the all clear from Homeland Security.”
Morse pointed to the wall-mounted screen and nodded to the aide. The video began to play and Mac appeared on the screen.
“That’s Dr. Hagan,” said Morse.
“The presence of so many bacteria in the bloodstream causes your immune system to freak out, triggering a condition called septic shock. Your body’s blood vessels begin leaking, decreasing blood volume. This leads to abnormal clotting and multiple organ failure.
“But if that doesn’t kill you, the bacteria then migrate through the blood to your lungs, at which point you contract pneumonia. Game over.”
Without the camera leaving Mac’s face, the voice of Chairman Masterson could be heard.
“How long does the process take from point of infection until death?”
Mac continued staring at the camera. “Fourteen days on average. The patient is symptomatic at day eight, but potentially contagious by day four without showing symptoms.”
Coughing could be heard in the background until Chairman Masterson continued. “What about treatment?”
The loud coughing persisted and the C-SPAN camera pulled away from its focus on Mac, allowing more of the gallery to be seen.
Mac continued to speak. “At this time, we’ve tried the normal antibiotic protocols on patients, but—”
The coughing grew louder. Mac hesitated and then picked up her thought. “As I was saying, we’ve tried the normal antibiotic protocols—”
“Hey, watch it!” a woman could be heard shouting. This was followed by a shriek from the gallery.
A man’s voice yelled, “That’s blood. He’s coughing up blood!”
Then the camera began to shake as people rose in unison and scrambled for the exits. Only Mac sat in place, continuing to stare at the lens.
Morse nodded to the staffer. “That’s enough, pause it.” The screen froze on a room with people knocking each other down and then climbing over one another in panic. Mac, however, continued to stare through the camera.
President Garcia stared back. “She’s looking at me,” he said finally. “She did this to make me look like a fool.”
“Mr. President, I don’t think that she could have—” started Morse before the President exploded.
“Yes, Andrew, she could have and did. This was payback for her mother. There’s no doubt in my mind. Have her arrested!”
Morse looked around the cabin of the Sikorsky. He didn’t even finish the wave of his arm signaling the staff to leave. They were gathering their things and headed for another part of the cabin to give Morse and the President their privacy. They’d seen the President’s tirades before, especially the vicious ones at the end of a day when the brandy took hold.
“Mr. President, we can’t have her arrested. The medi—” started Morse before being interrupted.
“Yes, we can. Inciting a riot. Making terroristic threats. Find something! You saw what she said. She was trying to inflame and panic the American people!”
The President stood and made his way to the bar, twice stopping to catch his balance as unexpected turbulence rocked the Sikorsky. He poured himself a brandy and knocked it back. He poured another before turning to Morse.
“Mr. President, we can’t have her arrested, but we can certainly send her packing. I made that clear to our man at the CDC before he suggested sending her to testify.”
“Arrest him, too. Or fire him! I don’t care. We just handed the vultures in the media the issue they needed to turn this boring re-election win into a scandalous, grab-the-popcorn prime-time drama!” He finished the second brandy and slammed the glass on the table in front of him.
“Sir, let me talk to Baggett …” said Morse.
“Yes, Andrew. Talk to him and fire his precious Dr. Hagan. Then wait a month and fire him too!”
Chapter 4
Day Twenty-Nine
Rayburn House Office Building
Washington, DC
The sun was rising and began to find its way into the congressman’s office where Mac and Hunter had rested all night with short spurts of fitful sleep. Twice during the evening, the door was checked by someone in the hall, but Hunter had locked it to avoid being removed to the tent city that had been created in the horseshoe courtyard. Massive halogen lights were installed to illuminate the building and the grounds. Undoubtedly, the Rayburn building could be seen with the naked eye from the International Space Station.
As time passed, they learned more
about the local response and how the entire incident was playing in the media. Homeland Security and the CDC were treating this as an outbreak of an unknown infectious disease. The White House was quiet on the matter, and the DHS turned over communications with the media to the CDC in Washington.
During the evening, Mac had explained the CDC’s approach to messaging to Hunter. “A few years ago, there was an outbreak of Salmonella infections among people who ate peanut butter and products containing peanut paste, like crackers and cookies. People were scared. They needed to know which products were affected. Were they in their grocery store or, worse, already in their kitchen? They also needed facts about Salmonella infection—what are the symptoms, and how dangerous is it?
“The communications people in Atlanta know you can’t protect your health if you don’t know what to do and how to do it. The first thing we did was gather information and science from lots of sources. Then we disseminated it to the people who needed it. But there’s more to communicating about health than just moving information around. I spearheaded the response and worked on the initial statements being released.
“I took a minute to put myself in the public’s shoes. You know, I considered the basics. Who needs to know about the outbreak, and what do they need to know to protect themselves? I began with the what, why, and how—the information everyone needs to take the first steps.
“In an emergency, geography is very important. If there’s an isolated outbreak, like this one, not everyone may be affected. People need to know if they’re close to the incident or far away, and what the likelihood is that it will affect them if it spreads.
“But we don’t just consider what we need to say. People with different backgrounds will take in health information differently. What people do about a threat depends on several things, including who they are, who we are, and how we talk about it. This is where the communication science comes in.
