Crescent City Chronicles (Books 1-3)

by Judith Lucci

  As Alex moved toward her bedroom, her heart was again raced. What the hell is happening now? How could things get worse? I don’t think I can take much more of this. As she quickly donned jeans and a sweater, she was overcome by a feeling of panic and had to sit and gather her thoughts for several moments. She rose from the chair and went to her closet, surveyed her clothes and wondered if she were picking the last outfit she would ever wear. I’ve got to cut this negative thinking out. My grandparents need me and they’re coming to New Orleans today. Besides, I have to provide support for Beth Blankenship.

  Alex stood in front of her mirror and looked at herself, trying to figure out how she was going to face the worst and possibly last day of her life. She raised her shoulders until she stood at her full height of about 5’9”.

  She thought back to when she was a little girl, about seven years old, when they had come to take her mother away, once again, to what Alex supposed now was a psychiatric hospital. She remembered crying her eyes out in her grandparents' living room as the rescue squad bandaged her mother’s bleeding arms and put her in wrist and body restraints. She could still visualize drops of blood on the marble foyer of her grandparents' farm outside of Richmond.

  She believed her mother was dying and that she would never see her again. She felt an enormous pain in her heart and thought she would die. She remembered following the slow-moving ambulance from window to window as it took her mother away from her again. That had been the story of her life as a child. Her mother ... always sick and always leaving and her father ... barely a memory.

  After a few minutes, her grandmother, Kathryn Lee, had come to her and said, “Come on, Alexandra. We must get ourselves together and face a new day. We will find the strength to do it. In the meantime, let’s put on your prettiest dress, and we’ll go to Richmond for a wonderful lunch and an afternoon of shopping. Then we’ll go over to Hermitage Manor, play the piano, and sing with the older ladies and gentlemen.” In retrospect, her grandmother was teaching how to care for and protect herself while she did things for other people. Self-healing by helping others was the mantra of her grandmother's charitable nature.

  I can do this. I have to do this. I’m going to be fine. Alex grabbed her cosmetics kit from her bathroom and said a silent prayer for strength and peace. She also thanked God for her wonderful grandmother. By the time she rejoined Jack in the living room, she felt energetic and ready to tackle the world.

  Jack gave her strange look and said, “What the hell, Alex. You look like you just got home from the spa. What did you do in there?" Jack examined her carefully and looked amazed.

  Alex flashed him a smile and said, “It’s magic Jack, with a great deal of help from people that love me, and from above.”

  Jack shrugged his shoulders and gestured toward his officers. He said, “Carry on men. Call me if you catch the intruder.”

  Chapter 25

  Habib was desperate, tired, and hungry. He was lost in uptown New Orleans and there were cop cars everywhere. Why in the hell hadn’t he just killed the lawyer woman? When Omar had given him her name and address as the hospital administrator, he had suggested that Omar kill her. What was one less infidel? Habib could have murdered her, he’d had ample opportunity, but decided not to because, well, he just didn’t like to kill people. He knew his Jihad leaders would consider this weak and unacceptable since a mission of Jihad was to kill infidels. They would probably torture and destroy him for not disposing of the hospital lawyer. As a matter of fact, he really didn't really think he wanted to be involved in Jihad. He'd been thinking that for a long time. He'd tried to deny the feelings but he just couldn't. Not anymore.

  He stopped to rest behind a small garage in between two garbage cans and reviewed the evening in his mind. He had sensed desperation in Nazir and the silent, uncooperative feelings of Ali. He knew the young college student wasn’t, like himself, a committed Jihadist. Habib wished he could escape from the Jihad but there was no way. He shook his head, anguished by the expectations and demands of the leaders.

  By the time he had gotten Yahwa back to his apartment, the man was almost dead. It took no effort at all to strangle him, particularly after Yahwa hadn’t been able to produce the electrical drawings and security information that the leaders demanded. The man had been out of his mind due to his high fever. In some respects, Habib considered the death of Yahwa a killing of mercy. However, Habib knew he’d be dead as well, if he didn’t return with the security plan and building documents that Mohammed and Omar had demanded. Thank Allah he had been able to pirate the electrical drawings and security notes from yesterday’s meeting from Alex’s laptop. He reached for the USB device in his pocket. It was safe, and hopefully, his key to freedom. Habib wanted nothing more than to disappear into the New Orleans underground after the attacks today. He prayed to Allah that he would be successful. He loved his faith, he loved Allah but he hated Jihad and everything associated with it. As-salaam'alaykim, peace be with you my brother, Habib muttered as he softly closed Yahwa's door. He didn't notice the dark figure loitering across the street.

  Habib crouched lower behind the garage to escape the high beam of a police searchlight. He was now prone on the ground, his teeth clenched with silent desperation. As the police searchlight reflected off the metal trashcans, he could hear the voices of two New Orleans policemen. They knew he was hiding close by. As the beams of their searchlights traveled all around him, Habib continued to pray for freedom - freedom from the New Orleans police as well as the terrorists. Finally, the voices and the lights moved away and he felt relieved, and hopeful. He checked his watch and moved quickly in the shadows back to Nazir’s small apartment, where he knew Mohammed was counting the minutes until he reappeared. Somehow, he told himself, he would escape and become a free man with the help of Allah.

  Chapter 26

  Alex and Jack were quiet on their way to Crescent City Medical Center, each caught up in their own thoughts. Finally, the silence was ponderous and deafening. Alex broke the stillness in the car.

  "Okay, Jack. Speak up. What in heaven's name is going on at the hospital now?"

  Jack hesitated for a few moments and replied, "Some SOB got his hands on some of the blood and serum from the virus victims. Whoever it was managed to contaminate a bunch of sterile instrument kits they use in OR."

  Alex was shocked and speechless. She said nothing for a minute or so, as her mind digested this information and formed all sorts of horrific scenarios. "Oh my God, Jack. How did we discover this?"

  The Commander shook his head and replied, "It was strictly by luck. One of the CCMC nurses was opening a sterile pack up in the OR and she noticed that one of the sterile sponges was wet. It was off color so she sent it to the lab and had it tested. She put a rush on it so the results came back quickly. It was positive for the virus."

  The implications were staggering. Alex ran the potential legal scenarios through her mind and knew the cost of liability was significant to CCMC. "What else?" she asked, her voice curt.

  "It's not any better. In fact, it gets worse. Yvette sent CDC staff to the sterile supply in the Operating Room and found that 100% of the sterile surgical kits, sterile dressings, and equipment and, well, whatever you use to operate on people, were contaminated."

  "Any idea how many surgeries were done today?"

  Jack shook his head and said, "We're meeting Robert at the hospital. He's checking on those patients now, and Yvette has asked the CDC to develop an antidote or vaccine, or something, whatever you people do to try and stop the spread of the virus."

  “How in the world do you develop an antiviral or vaccine when you can’t identify the vaccine? I don’t see that happening very soon.” Alex’s voice was sarcastic, all of the wind knocked out of her sails.

  Jack continued, "Of course, it may be too late for some of those people.”

  "Yeah. What about the other floors, the other sterile supplies on the carts on the medical and surgical units?" Alex paused, not really
wanting to know the answer.

  "Don't know. They were checking. All I know is there was no tampering with sterile equipment on the medicine floors or in the intensive care units."

  "Humph. Interesting." Alex’s eyebrows arched like they always did when she was putting information together.

  "Interesting how?"

  "Don't know yet. It will be interesting to see where they, or if they, contaminated any other supplies. I mean, if there are other supplies contaminated, where they were located in the hospital."

  Jack gave her a puzzled look. "We should know that soon," he said as he maneuvered his big silver Cadillac into the physician's parking lot and pulled into the space closest to the door.

  Alex was daunted by the dozens of law enforcement vehicles surrounding the hospital. There were National Guard, Louisiana State Police, NOPD officers, and vehicles everywhere. How in the world could anyone break in here? This place is a fortress. Over her shoulder, she noticed the dozens of press members and news media trucks. They were quiet. Probably resting up for an early morning attack. Thank God for small things. Alex guessed they didn't know about the viral leak or they’d be clamoring for information.

  The pair was stopped at the entrance by the National Guard. Both presented credentials and were admitted into the ED entrance. Once again, they were stopped by an undercover officer as well as hospital security. After presenting their identification once again, they asked to see Dr. Charmaine.

  After several very long minutes of watching Jack pace around the small ED reception area, Alex took a seat. The emergency department waiting room was closed since the ED was closed to the public. The area had been cleaned recently. Alex could smell the disinfectant and shampoo on the upholstered furniture. She opted for a plastic chair. As she was checking her phone for messages, she looked up at the sound of Jack's voice.

  "Yo, Alex. We're going back. Hurry up."

  Alex, a bit piqued by his impatience hesitated for about 30 seconds.

  He growled, "Yo, get over here. We've got work to do."

  Alex shot him a dirty look as they moved back toward the ED conference room, which was as cluttered now, as it had been earlier in the day. Robert and Yvette were seated at the table talking quietly.

  When Robert spotted Alex, he rose and walked toward her. He gave her a big hug.

  Alex watched Yvette's eyes roll. For what? Was it disgust, anger, or jealously? Whatever it was, Alex didn't care, but she smiled to herself. So, Yvette still did have the hots for her handsome ex. Alex stuffed her thoughts about that for later.

  "Are you okay, Alex? Jack said someone broke into your house again. Are you hurt?" Robert's concern was genuine and Alex allowed herself to stay in his arms just a bit longer than she would have normally. Besides, it felt good to have this close human contact with someone. Boy, she did have some of the bitchy in her as she glanced back into the disapproving face of Yvette Charmaine. She needed to calm it down and besides, jealousy was not a part of her nature, at least not generally, and there was way too much going on to start.

  "No, no. I'm okay. I'm fine. They got some footprints so hopefully they’ll’ be able to find whoever it was. So, what's happening here?" she asked as she dismissed her home invasion with the wave of her hand.

  Yvette nodded to Alex and Jack and said, "You guys sit down. We can update you."

  Alex grabbed a bottle of water from the credenza as Jack went for the coffee, which was so thick it gave Alex stomach pains just watching it drip from the stainless carafe. "Jack, that's going to kill you. It's nothing but sludge. Can't we get some fresh coffee?"

  Yvette was miffed, "You're the one in power around here Alex. It's almost four a.m. so your guess is as good as mine about dietary services. Right now, I am more concerned about Central Services," Yvette finished, her voice a bit sarcastic.

  Alex nodded, stung by Yvette’s sarcasm and asked in a crisp voice, "What’s up? Robert, can you and Yvette fill us in?"

  Robert nodded as he picked up on the bad vibes between Alex and Yvette. "All of the sterile supplies in the OR were contaminated with the virus, as were all of the sterile supplies on the carts on the surgical floors. We'd never have figured it out if the nurse in OR hadn't noticed a dressing was damp." He shook his head thinking out loud, "Oh my God, can you imagine how horrible that would have been if we had contaminated all of our surgical patients with this virus we can't even identify?"

  Alex shuddered at the thought but nodded and looked at Yvette. "Thank God for the vigilance of CCMC nurses, all nurses for that fact. What about the medicine floors, the intensive and cardiac care units? Have those supplies been contaminated?"

  Yvette spoke, "We don't think so, although the supplies in interventional radiology have been contaminated. Basically, anywhere in this medical complex where you might change a wound dressing, start an IV, or perform surgery have contaminated supplies."

  Alex nodded and said, "Interesting, don't you think?"

  "Interesting? What the hell is interesting? It’s another crime in my mind. Something I’m missing here?" Jack roared impatiently.

  Alex was having difficulty keeping her composure. She was angry and said quietly, "Calm down, big guy, I'm on your side. I think the pattern is interesting. That's all."

  "Pattern? What pattern? Why, Alex, what are you thinking?" Robert asked, a confused look on his face.

  Alex noticed she had the rapt attention of all three and said, "It seems interesting that whoever did this selected areas where the patients are fairly healthy. Most surgical patients are healthy as are most patients having diagnostic testing."

  Jack was still perplexed. He didn't get it. "What the hell do you mean, healthy people? Ain't nobody here really healthy or they wouldn't be here." His voice was impatient, querulous.

  Alex rolled her eyes and said, "Jack, what I mean is that I see a bit of a pattern. The perp who did this isn't messing with people in the ICUs who are critically ill or people on medicine units who often have terminal or chronic diseases. He or she just seems to want to infect healthy people with the virus, that's all. It’s kind of like the patients in ICU and on the chronic disease units are going to die anyway so he’s hitting the healthy group of patients and trying to kill them. He’s setting priorities about whom he wants to kill. He’s going for a greater impact."

  The conference door opened and Elizabeth Tippett entered. "Hello, everyone, or should I say a very good early morning to all of you?" Elizabeth was dressed for work in a dark navy blue suit, white cashmere sweater, low-heeled navy shoes, and conservative, but gold jewelry.

  Alex called this her TV camera look. Liz knew she’d be on TV shortly.

  "Liz, what's up?" Alex had a sick feeling in her stomach. "I didn't expect you here. Somebody needs to get some sleep so they can be sharp enough to run this place," she wise-cracked but knew her voice was strained because her throat hurt from keeping her voice calm when indeed she really wanted to stand up, scream, and then rip out everyone’s vocal cords so they would shut up. She could barely speak her stress level was so high.

  "The hospital operator called me. I guess she couldn't reach you or Robert. She got a telephone call that someone had spread the virus all over the hospital in an attempt to make even more people sick. Then I got a call from my good friend at CNN. He said the same thing. Is any of this true?" As Liz's eyes searched the faces of her friends, it was evident that the story was true.

  Alex's shoulders slumped as if in defeat. "Hell yes, someone has contaminated the sterile supply carts on some of the floors. I guess you'll have to make a statement. How in the world did CNN know? Are the terrorists calling them directly?"

  Liz shrugged her shoulders. "Somebody is. Anyway, I’ll make a statement. Half the world already knows there’s a bad virus here at CCMC and we've been totally mum about it. It's been on network TV and cable since yesterday afternoon. It's time for us to get out there and say we have this stuff under control," Liz implored her colleagues. "What'd'ya say? Everyone in
agreement?"

  "You're right. I'll be a part of the news conference as well," Yvette offered. "I can speak from the viral, CDC aspect. I generally don't offer this, but there's a lot going on in this city and we've a lot riding on how we handle this.”

  Everyone nodded except for Jack who growled, "Screw that, I'm not saying anything to the liberal press. They’re lying bastards and they twist everything. They have never quoted me correctly, never. They just screw it up anyway. Count me out," he said as his phone signaled a new text message.

  "Oh shit, what the hell ..." Jack had a dark scowl on his face.

  "What, Jack, what is it?" Alex asked, alarmed by the Commander's response.

  Jack shook his head, "It just doesn't stop coming. We got a body downtown, stabbed in the chest with a syringe of something hanging out of the stab wound. Anybody want to guess what? What do you suppose that could be?"

  An instant later, a Code Blue sounded in the ED and Yvette rushed to respond. "Well, there is another person with the virus who is unable to breathe. We've got to figure this out," she said as she dashed from the room with Robert following her.

  In the silence that followed, Alex was barraged with actions she should take but clarity was slow in coming. The situation was convoluted at best and had to be handled delicately. Finally, she glanced at Elizabeth and said, "Liz, why not release a statement to the press and we'll get together later this after we find out more of what's happening. In the meantime, contact the head of Central Supply and have them collect every sterile supply in this hospital and destroy it, according to Yvette's directions. Cancel any surgeries until after we get new sterile supplies, or better yet, get on the horn to East Jefferson and see if they can lend us enough sterile supplies for the day or until we can resupply. Have the Central Supply people work on this. They have their own network."