by JT Sawyer
Amber’s smile widened, and she leaned over to stroke her son’s head. “My baby and I are out of that city and safe now, thanks to you and your friends—what’s not to be happy about.” Her jade green eyes glanced at Selene as she grinned. “But I can tell this isn’t a social visit. You seem like you’re runnin’ on three cups of coffee this morning.”
Selene rested her hand on the woman’s forearm. “I know that we’ve spoken a little about your recent medical history and my assistants have certainly poked and prodded you way more than anyone should have to endure these past few days, but there’s something I’m trying to figure out, and…”
“Ask away, Doctor. What can I help with?”
“On your health form that the nurse put together when you were admitted here into intensive care, you said that you had suffered a severe respiratory illness back in September of this year. Can you tell me more about that, because the nurse’s notes indicated that it was caused by a zoonotic malaria, and that’s pretty uncommon in western North America. Were you traveling at the time?”
“No, that’s what the doctor at the hospital asked me back then, and he was as stumped as I was. My bloodwork kept pointing to a rare form of malaria that’s only found in Malaysia. I just remember getting so sick so fast, like I was hit with a sledgehammer or something. One minute, I was having lunch with a friend, and then a few hours later, I could barely stand—I was so dizzy and weak.”
“Do you recall the name of the malaria strain? There is more than one.”
“I sure don’t, but the doctor said I most likely contracted it after getting nipped by one of the long-tailed macaques at the exotic pet store where I worked. We found out later that the monkeys had originated from the illicit pet trade in Singapore. The poor things were later put down after the doctor identified what I had.”
Selene’s face lit up, her eyes darting around the room. “Plasmodium Knowlesi has to be what you’re referring to—it’s a rare form of malaria spread from birds to primates and occasionally humans. Its transmission only happens with blood-to-blood contact. The antibodies you eventually built up during and after your recovery must have formed a defense against the bite of the drone you received a few days ago.” She arched her back, sitting up straight. “That has to be the missing link in figuring all this out.”
Amber scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal and resumed eating as Selene jumped to her feet. Selene leaned over and hugged the woman, who responded with a faint giggle.
“Thank you,” said Selene.
“For what?”
Selene rushed towards the door, stopping in the entrance for a second. “Maybe everything—if I’m right about this.”
As Selene jogged towards the elevator and continued back down to her lab, her head was swimming with ideas. For the past few days, she had felt like a blind rock climber descending into a precipice without any handholds; now she could not only see a potential route ahead but felt like she was firmly planted on a solution. The answer has been in her blood all this time, but we were looking in the wrong place. It’s not simply the viral strain. It’s Hayes’ virus being repelled by the unique antibodies in Amber’s blood in overcoming the malaria.
When the elevator doors opened on the second sub-floor, she bounded past two nurses and made her way to Noveck’s office. She flung open his door, startling him enough to spill the coffee from the mug in his hand.
“Doctor Munroe—my God, is everything alright?” he said, reaching for a box of Kleenex to mop up the mess on his hand.
“I’m assuming that this branch of the CDC has samples of malaria filed away in its BSL-2 storage chambers—is that right?”
“I believe so, but…”
She hastily moved up to his desk, jotting down two words on a notepad then ripping the piece of paper off and thrusting it into his chest. “Get me a sample of this and meet me in the BSL-4 lab ASAP. We’ve got work to do.”
Noveck glanced down at the words, Plasmodium Knowlesi. “But what does this have to do with the virus?”
“This is it—the isolated variable we’ve been searching for—the reason Amber survived the infection and wasn’t turned,” she said over her shoulder as she trotted down the hallway to the lab.
***
Seven hours later, Selene emerged from the decontamination unit outside of BSL-4. Her eyes were bloodshot and her mind beyond exhaustion. She quickly donned a new set of hospital scrubs and clogs, then raced to the elevator, taking it to the twelfth floor then trotting down the hall to the conference room. Her heart was racing as much from her movement as from the breakthrough she and Noveck had just made.
Though all of the operators except Ivins were present, she only saw Reisner’s face when she burst through the doors. She wanted to rush up and hug him, but kept her flurry of emotions in check. Taking her place at the head of the table, she glanced around at all the warriors present and then over to the video monitor on the opposite wall, which had just illuminated, showing the faces of President Hemmings and General Dorr. A second later, the door to the conference room opened and Ivins entered, pushing Amber in a wheelchair. The look of surprise on her face matched the other occupants in the room and on the video monitor. Once Ivins positioned her next to Reisner’s chair, he sat down on Amber’s other side and nodded at Selene.
She clicked on the PowerPoint screen behind her and then reached down to the table, depressing the audio switch for the BSL-4 lab downstairs. “Doctor Noveck, you can begin.”
The screen showed a single video of two separate microscopic organisms. The first was the color of pine resin, the yellow-hued cell showing a single black dot in the center. The second organism resembled a single droplet of red wine with a spikey exterior. The latter was moving vigorously across the screen surrounding the yellow organism and enveloping it.
Selene took a deep breath, holding back the full extent of her smile. She looked out at the large windows to her right, seeing the sun slipping below the horizon and illuminating the desert peaks in the distance. “I believe that when dawn arrives tomorrow, it will be the start of a new chapter in our efforts to win back our world.” She motioned with her hand to the screen over her shoulder. “Doctor Noveck and I have been directing our efforts in understanding the virus and how to attack it. We believe we have arrived at a solution.” She stepped closer to the image, pointing at the spikey cells floating across the screen. “These red cells are the virus that Hayes constructed. These cells are searching for normal human cells to invade. Once they attach, they destroy the black receptors of the host’s cell inside, then invade, infecting the healthy organism before resuming their search for more cells to attack. This is what happens to anyone bitten by a drone. They become infected with the modified 1918 flu strain created by Hayes, every cell in their body being overrun within a short period of time.”
She leaned back toward the intercom, asking Noveck to switch to the next image. This one showed a similar scene, but there were hundreds of small black dots floating independently of the healthy yellow human cells. “Here the virus is on the attack again, but in this case, the receptors from the human host are floating independently, which prevents the virus from having anything to attach to once it attacks the healthy cell. Instead it washes through the healthy cells without resulting in any infection. These receptors are from Amber’s blood, combined with a non-lethal strand of the original 1918 Spanish Flu that I obtained from the Presidio, which we spliced in earlier this afternoon.”
She tapped on the screen with a finger, showing the spikey defenses of the red cells collapsing once a black receptor collided with the invading cell. Selene turned and walked around to the back of the room, resting her hands on Amber’s shoulders. The woman reached up and squeezed Selene’s wrist, her lips trembling. “Amber’s health history indicated that she had recently contracted a rare form of malaria that had provided her with antibodies, rendering the infection from a drone’s bite unable to replicate inside of her body. She is the key—and the re
ason I am able to stand before you all and share this news with you.” Selene raised her voice, angling her head towards the intercom again as she directed Noveck to show the live feed from inside the BSL-4 lab where he was working. He was standing beside a clear polycarbonate cage that held a small Rhesus monkey inside, a carryover from the lab’s pre-pandemic days. “I’ve injected our distant cousin here with the latter modified receptors. If he survives the night then we will have the necessary antibodies for creating a vaccine that can enable a person to survive the bite of a drone and also the means for developing a biological agent for killing the parasites in the drones themselves.”
The room was silent, and Selene had to turn to the television monitor to her left to make sure General Dorr and President Hemmings were still online.
Ivins leaned to his side, softly patting Amber’s arm with his huge hand while nodding with a faint smile. The other SEALs were quietly muttering words of praise to Amber, Selene, and Noveck, while Reisner and his team were trying to keep their hand-clapping from erupting beyond a deafening level. It was the first time Selene had seen the taut faces of all these warriors beaming with expressions of hope.
“That’s the best goddamned news I’ve heard all week,” said Dorr.
“I agree a hundred-fold,” said Hemmings. “If what you’re saying comes to fruition, our nation—hell, the world—owes you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.”
“What are your thoughts on being able to weaponize this biological agent?” said Dorr.
Selene walked back to the podium, the image of the monkey moving around its cage visible over her shoulder. “I’ll know more tomorrow when I run the test results from this primate’s blood. Right now, what we’re looking at is essentially an antibody created from Amber’s unique immunity to the bite of a drone, not a bioweapon. I need to engineer something specifically from her blood and combine it with the original 1918 flu virus, which will serve as a disease vector that can then be used against the drones. Ideally, an aerosol would be the best way to disperse such an agent among the creatures, but we don’t have the means of making that happen here. That might be better suited to your people at MacDill, General, or even on board the Lachesis, which seems ideal for that kind of research from what I’m told.”
“I can probably rig up something on a small scale using the smoke grenades we have on hand here,” said Porter. “We could use it to do a test run on a small pocket of drones in this region if we can locate them using SAT imagery.”
“Whatever you need on this end, just let us know. Outstanding work!” said Dorr in a terse but sincere manner as he signed off. Hemmings remained on the screen, interlacing her fingers on her desk. “Thank you again—all of you. You have been on the front lines on this, and I for one am grateful for your service. One day soon, I hope we will all meet in person and exchange handshakes as we put this chapter of unprecedented conflict and loss behind us. Until then, keep up the excellent work and stay safe out there.”
When the transmission from MacDill ended, the SEALs and Reisner’s team departed the room after stopping by to briefly give Amber a nod of gratitude. Ivins escorted her back to her room, leaving Reisner and Selene alone.
The room seemed cavernous now that it had emptied out, and she felt like collapsing onto a chair and sleeping. Instead, she walked up to Reisner and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer for a hug. She felt his hands brushing against her hair and she pulled back to look into his eyes. His expression had softened from his usual stone-faced exterior, and she held one hand to his cheek as she smiled. She pressed her head back into his chest, not wanting to talk or think anymore. For now, this was all she needed, and she felt like her soul could let down its guard for a while against the monsters outside these walls. Monsters that she hoped would be eradicated in the coming weeks if her work was successful.
Chapter 36
One day later, Reisner and his team assembled in the situation room on sub-level three, where Ivins, Murphy, and the other SEALs were doing a weapons inventory of the arsenal they had arrived with. The morale of the group had been oscillating between hope and despair after the news of the alphas’ surprising move to the nuclear sites coupled with Selene’s scientific breakthrough with the monkey that had survived the introduction of the modified virus. Both Ivins and Reisner had kept their teams busy to take their minds off the reality that they were facing a much more dangerous enemy than at the outset of the virus. The biological agent that Selene had concocted from the blood of the monkey enabled her to provide a small amount of the bioagent that could be aerosolized, but it would be another week before General Dorr could produce anything on a larger scale to combat the drones.
What occupied most of the morning discussion was all the theories being discussed on the airwaves and ham radios about how the alphas could have orchestrated such a massive exodus from so many cities to the nuclear power plants. Some civilians on the open-source channels being broadcast around the nation who had witnessed the departure of the creatures surmised that the alphas’ abilities had further evolved from some unknown mutation of the virus, while the military commanders at surviving bases guessed it was an increase in the collective mentality that linked the minds of the alphas that enabled them to share information on an unprecedented scale. A handful of others survivors saw the fiendish scourge upon the earth as payment for mankind’s sins and moral decay, likening the creatures to a supernatural force intent on purging the unfaithful.
Reisner found himself concurring with Selene—that there were probably a handful of super-intelligent alphas or perhaps a single creature that was at the top of the paras’ hierarchy, something previously unknown, whose mental faculties had recently come into fruition and who was now guiding the drones and remaining alphas on a global level.
Regardless of all the radio chatter, Reisner and the rest of the warriors at the CDC started this day with a feeling that they were moving forward again, as General Dorr had announced last night that Operation Overlord would be commencing in seventy-two hours, with the goal to eradicate the alphas from a dozen key nuclear power plants in the U.S., using a combination of unconventional warfare units coupled with the LRAD devices to drive them into the open. The assault was going to be coordinated so each special operations unit struck at the same time throughout the country, to prevent the alphas from mentally relaying to the others what was unfolding. Dorr didn’t feel like they could afford the luxury of waiting. The alphas’ locations inside the nuclear facilities were troublesome not only for the tactical advantage it afforded the paras, but also due to the risk that there could be a regional catastrophe if the creatures there inadvertently caused damage that led to a breach in a plant’s internal safety measures.
With Ivins being promoted to regional commander of the Southwest, the SEAL commander was tasked with gaining entry to the Palo Verde Nuclear Reactor west of Phoenix. If they were successful, they would sweep through the remaining nuclear facilities around the western U.S. and eradicate the other alphas sequentially while coordinating their attacks with military counterparts in other regions of the nation.
Now all they needed was to obtain more ammunition and ordinance. Pacelle was busy surfing through numerous DOD locations, federal sites, and military bases to see if there was an appropriate location near Phoenix that could provide them with a suitable arsenal.
“So after we resupply on munitions, I say we stop in Tempe and get some Arizona Diamondbacks swag,” said Porter. “I could use a new ballcap.”
“I’d agree with that plan if only because a new hat would cut down on the glare I’m always getting from that increasingly bald dome of yours,” said Nash with a chuckle.
“You would pick such a stellar baseball team to identify with,” said Connelly, shaking her head.
“Sorry, pal, we’re angling to hit the drones later this afternoon and test out the aerosol, but maybe one of Ivins’ guys will lend you a spare hat,” said Reisner as he winked at Murphy acr
oss the table.
Murphy gave them a stern look. “Shit, that’ll be the day. I can’t lend out a hat to an inlander like you, Porter. You gotta earn your sea legs first.”
“You fuckin’ squids and all your designated SEAL gear. It’s no wonder your packs weigh more than ours, carrying all that extra bling around.” He grinned as he continued inspecting his rifle.
“Tell you what, when we get back tonight, we’ll let you in on our game of poker, and if you can hold your own, I’ll give you my own damn hat,” said Murphy.
“You may as well hand it over now,” said Nash. “Porter can’t be beat in poker. I’ve tried more than a few times.”
“Pff…whatever; 1900 in the conference room tonight, tough guy,” said Murphy with a crooked smile.
Porter waved his hand around at the other SEALs. “Just you and me, or you bringing all your pals here for moral support, ’cause you gonna be in tears when we’re finished.”
He tapped on the brim of his Navy ballcap. “You just keep talking shit—we’ll see who’s wearing this hat tomorrow at breakfast.”
Their banter was interrupted by Pacelle, who snapped his hands in the air for everyone to be quiet. “OK, there’s a National Guard base near Tucson that might provide you with the hardware you need,” said Pacelle, who had pulled up a map on the wall monitor.
“That’s two hours south of here, and they’re going to have a vault we’d need to breach just to gain access—and I’m not sure how much would be left inside once we blew that hatch,” said Nash.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Ivins, looking at Pacelle. “Look into the ATF office here in downtown Phoenix. They should have a shitload of confiscated weapons, ammo, and explosives obtained from the cartels.”
A minute later, Pacelle swung around in his swivel chair, holding up his arms as he nodded at the wall monitor behind him, which showed the black-and-white security footage from the weapons evidence room. The shelves were lined with assault rifles, boxes of grenades, blocks of C4, and RPGs. “Behold—the world is yours.”
