by Bobby Akart
As they approached her destination, some of the great Athenian landmarks came into view. Five thousand years of history had left its mark on the Greek landscape. Many ancient Greek monuments and landmarks had survived the eons under the sun and often windy conditions. A few even remained in use, such as the Acropolis, built in the fourth millennium BC, which, following its restoration, was reopened as a museum.
Their route took them directly past the Panathenaic Stadium, which reminded Mac of the historical significance of the Olympics in Greece. The first games were part of a religious festival in honor of King Zeus, the mythical king of the gods. The first Olympic Games, which historians believed occurred around the seventh century BC, inspired the modern games started in 1896 in Athens.
More than a century later, the Olympics have been viewed as a way to bring nations together in an apolitical setting, under the presentation of competitive sporting events. Of course, that was not always the case, but the good intentions were there. Mac verily believed that in today’s political climate, all activities that transcended a nation’s boundaries had a political impact, including the Olympics.
Her mind then wandered to the number of people who would travel to Atlanta in a few weeks from the more than two hundred nations competing in the Summer Games. This was far more than the fourteen nations that participated in the first Olympiad.
Mac had studied the 1918 Influenza Pandemic extensively. Known as the Spanish flu, the pandemic lasted from early 1918 until late 1920. It infected half a billion people across the world and resulted in the deaths of nearly one hundred million, making it one of the deadliest natural disasters in human history.
By the summer of 1920 when the Games of the VII Olympiad were held in Belgium, the influenza virus had mutated to a less virulent strain, which often happened with influenza. The games went on, as the Spanish flu was no longer perceived to be a threat of spreading.
It was amazing to Mac how things had changed in a hundred years. In 1918, at the time, it was said that a large factor in the worldwide occurrence of the Spanish flu was increased travel via modern transportation systems like rail and boat.
Mac laughed to herself. Modern transportation systems? Today, according to the International Air Transport Association, over ten million passengers took a flight every day. Nearly two million of those had originating flights in the United States. Ten million a day, thought Mac. The Spanish flu would’ve loved that opportunity.
“Here we are, miss,” the taxi driver interrupted Mac’s calculations. “As requested, this is the Hellenic Centre for Disease Control and Prevention. It is commonly known as the HCDCP, as I’m sure you know.”
“Yes, and thank you for bringing me here,” said Mac. She paid the driver in dollars, which he graciously and warmly accepted. The euro was the legal currency of Greece, as it was part of the European Union, although the government had threatened to cut its ties with the EU from time to time and return to the drachma.
Mac stepped out of the taxi into the bright sun of Athens.
*****
The HCDCP was established three decades ago as a division of the Greece Ministry of Health. Like the CDC, its mission was to promote public health through a national strategy of increasing public awareness and education. It also coordinated the efforts of Infectious Disease Units contained in hospitals throughout the country. Their Sentinel surveillance system coordinated with the WHO and provided valuable epidemiological data on infectious diseases that were found within their borders.
She would be meeting with Dr. Spiros Vondas, the director of their Epidemiological Surveillance and Response Department. He’d alerted CDC-Atlanta of the new case of pneumonic plague discovered on an infected migrant who’d recently arrived into the country by a boat originating in Libya.
Floods of migrants were fleeing the political upheaval there and made the treacherous two-hundred-mile ride on overcrowded ferries across the Mediterranean. If they survived the unstable boat trip and the pirates who frequently boarded the ships, they would find their way to the Peloponnese Peninsula.
The patient, a fourteen-year-old girl, was immediately quarantined when she was observed exhibiting flu-like symptoms. As they gathered information about the girl from her traveling companions, the Greek police learned that she was originally from the DR Congo. She had left her family, who wanted to force her to convert to Islam, in hopes of a better life in Europe.
After her death, an autopsy was performed and tests were administered. According to the communiqué received from Dr. Vondas, the child tested positive for pneumonic plague.
Another case in another part of the world. The coincidences were starting to mount up.
Chapter 33
Day Thirteen
HCDCP
Athens
Dr. Vondas welcomed Mac into his office and offered her a bottle of water, which she accepted. Between the visits to the hot, arid climate of Trinidad, and now the warm, dry air of Greece, Mac was feeling dehydrated. Plus, airline travel with its lack of humid air in the cabin could quickly lead to dehydration. Water is life, as Mac had learned from her mother, and therefore hydration was always a priority for her.
“Greece takes infectious diseases quite seriously,” said Dr. Vondas, whose English dialect reflected his schooling at Cardiff University in London. He’d graduated at the top of his class before performing his residency at the King’s College Hospital. “As you can tell, we’re all about history here.”
Mac nodded. She wasn’t that interested in small talk. She was on a mission.
Dr. Vondas continued. “Typhoid fever, caused by a strain of Salmonella, killed a third of the population in Athens in the fourth century BC. That same strain is still alive and well across the globe. By last estimates, millions of people are afflicted by Salmonella through contact with one of its many non-typhoid strains in the form of food poisoning.”
“Yes,” added Mac, still engrossed in the pathology report. “Half of those cases are in the U.S.”
“Of course, the plague, in its three forms, has evolved and survived as well. Bacterial pathogens don’t truly go away, they evolve and find new hosts.”
Mac closed the folder and handed it back to Dr. Vondas. “I’d like to get some images of the gram stains and the serology tests, if you don’t mind. I’d like to compare them to another case that I’m investigating.”
“Certainly,” he replied.
“Also, Doctor, your report format is different from what I’m used to seeing at the CDC. Would you mind if I run through my quick thought processes to ensure that we’ve left no stone unturned?”
“Yes, of course.”
Mac had confidence in Dr. Vondas, but he was the head of the department. It was not likely that he’d conducted the autopsy or any of the testing.
Dr. Vondas summoned his assistant and asked her to bring up the genetic pathologist and the epidemiologist who were hands-on with this case. After several minutes of small talk, the two physicians arrived and sat next to each other on the couch.
“Thank you for taking the time to discuss this unusual case with me,” started Mac. “Have either of you examined a patient, pre- or postmortem, who had contracted the plague?”
“No.”
“Okay, from your reports, it appears that you conducted the appropriate tests for Y. pestis. Was that your initial diagnosis?”
Dr. Vondas spoke up. “No, our attending physicians initially ordered testing for what we see most often, viral hemorrhagic fevers, including Ebola, Marburg, and Lassa. The symptoms of the three plague diseases are similar to the hemorrhagic fevers, and because of their rarity, they aren’t considered early on.”
“Yes,” added the pathologist. “In fact, most cases are discovered postmortem because the plague requires early and aggressive treatment.”
“According to the reports, this patient experienced fever, headache, stomach pain, vomiting, and diarrhea. To your knowledge was there anything else?”
“No.�
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“What about dyspnea or even rapid breathing? Any problems breathing at all?”
Again, Dr. Vondas answered. “I interviewed the attending physicians and they didn’t mention this.”
Mac continued, growing perturbed at Dr. Vondas and his interruptions. “Let me ask you about course of treatment. Which form of antibiotics did you use?”
“Streptomycin.”
Mac made several notes in her iPhone, including the use of streptomycin, usually the antibiotic of choice in treating a plague victim exhibiting early symptoms. She typed in the words too late, indicating her opinion that the young patient was beyond the time that any antibiotic could make a difference. She turned her attention to the epidemiologist.
“Tell me about your efforts at containment.”
The young woman hesitated and her eyes darted back and forth to Dr. Vondas. She was clearly nervous and made no effort to respond. Mac immediately picked up on this and looked directly to the man charged with the responsibility of responding to a potential infectious disease on this nation’s soil. She cocked her head, waiting for an answer.
“Well, at first the police unit that separated the young lady from the rest of the migrants thought she might have the flu. Their interest was in making her more comfortable and getting her medical attention. They turned her over to a local clinic in Kalamata.”
This information hit Mac like a bolt of lightning. Her body became rigid, almost unresponsive. She took a deep breath and gathered her composure.
“Doctor,” she stared directly in the eyes of Dr. Vondas, “how many people were on the ferry from Libya?”
“Almost two hundred. Dr. Hagan, you have to understand, our shores greet thousands of refugees a day. We have—”
Mac couldn’t wait for him to finish. “Did you quarantine or even interview any of them?”
“Um.” He hesitated before admitting the mistake the Greek authorities had made. “We didn’t because the police and the local immigration personnel thought she might be seasick or have a cold. None of this was on their radar.” He pushed the file away from him on his desk as if he wished he’d never seen it.
“I take it that you have no idea where these people are,” Mac continued.
“That’s correct.”
“And the local clinic, in Kalamata, I think you said. Has it been contained?”
“Yes, this morning,” responded Dr. Vondas.
Mac stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “When was the girl transferred from the clinic?”
“After she died three days ago. She was there for forty-eight hours before death.”
“Were any BSL-4, or even two, protocols followed?”
“No, not until the girl was transported to the local medical facility. Like I said, we didn’t know.”
Mac closed her eyes. This was a disaster movie in the making.
Chapter 34
Day Thirteen
GNIS
Athens
Doukas left instructions for the guards and escorted Hunter up the stairs to the main floor of the GNIS. Not a word was said between the two men and Hunter immediately feared that he’d overstepped his bounds.
“Hunter, you Americans have a saying, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. In Greece, and within the confines of these walls, we know one thing. It’s that we know nothing. You and I will start our day as if you’d just arrived. Agreed?”
Hunter regretted his compulsive actions, but tact and tire-kicking were never his strong suits. “I’m sorry for overstepping—”
“Oh no, my friend, do not misunderstand. That went very well and the results came much faster than I would’ve expected. I didn’t expect you to handle the tools in such a manner.”
Hunter looked over at Doukas to gauge his level of seriousness. He never knew whether the Doc was kidding or serious. “You would’ve done it differently?”
“Yes,” replied Doukas. “I start with the fingertips—one by one. Your initial blow was masterful, yet almost… How shall I say? Angry?”
Hunter thought about this for a moment. Was he angry when he sliced off the end of the man’s nose? In a way, he supposed he was. He was sick and tired of defiant, holier-than-thou terrorists killing innocent people in the name of their religion. His mind raced back to the deaths of the kid and the woman in Trinidad. What’s wrong with these people?
“Well, I suppose I am in a way,” replied Hunter.
Doukas stopped in the hallway short of the elevators and pulled Hunter to the side. “My reason for stating our activities should stay within the confines of the room is our new director at GNIS would not approve.”
“Who is he?” asked Hunter.
“His name is Roubatis, a former journalist, who was appointed by Prime Minister Tsipras. He was part of the Papandreou administration and is adamantly anti-American. He has unwritten directives prohibiting cooperation with American intelligence.”
“I understand. We should rename your room to Vegas.” The two men shared a hearty laugh as the elevator doors opened. A beautiful Greek woman stepped out and smiled as she passed Hunter. Hunter turned and allowed himself a second look.
“Do not consider her, my friend. She is Raider Forces, our version of your Special Forces. She would not treat you kindly, rest assured.”
“Hmm,” was all that Hunter could manage in reply as the elevator doors closed, taking away his view. He hadn’t seriously dated in years, as his career took him all over the world and into some very dangerous situations. In his mind, it would be unfair to bring someone into his life that would worry every time he left on a mission. There would be a time for the right woman to marry, but for now, he’d consider risking his life with a woman as beautiful as Miss Raider Force that just crossed his path.
“Come. Let’s talk about the reason for your visit—biological weapons, not biological urges, young man.”
Hunter took a seat across the desk from Doukas. He offered Hunter a cigarette, who declined. Hunter had never smoked one, although he was happy to enjoy a fine cigar from time to time.
Hunter began. “First, now that I know about your new director, I appreciate the fact that you contacted us with this information about a possible bioterror connection.”
Doukas took a drag on his filter-less cigarette and blew smoke towards a cracked window, which immediately floated outside. “Recently, we raided a drug house in the northern province of Macedonia near the border with Bulgaria. The house was tucked away in a remote part of the mountains. It was a routine raid in all respects except our investigators uncovered a small laboratory.”
“A drug lab?” interrupted Hunter.
“This was the opinion of the investigators at first,” replied Doukas. “Crystal methamphetamine has become prevalent in Europe, and Greece has become, unfortunately, a gateway for drug trafficking from the Middle East.”
“So how is this bioterror related?”
“After closer scrutiny by our forensic team, we took detailed photographs and delivered them to our experts at the Hellenic Centre for Disease Control and Prevention, our equivalent of the CDC. Both sets of investigators agreed the lab was not designed for illegal drug production, but rather appeared to be an experimental facility for something else.”
Hunter sat up in his chair as the biolab he’d viewed in Trinidad crossed his mind. “Did they find anything specific in the lab?”
“No. The lab was prepared for something, but it had not been put into use yet.”
“Did you capture anyone who might be able to lend some answers?” asked Hunter.
“No, but our people are investigating all possible leads.”
A dead end, but not necessarily, thought Hunter. A dead end was not always a one-way street. You could always turn around and find another road.
Chapter 35
Day Thirteen
Athenaeum Intercontinental Hotel
Athens
After checking in, Hunter made his way to the lobby bar of the At
henaeum Hotel and placed his order. After a frown of disapproval, of course, the bartender pulled a couple of Budweisers out of the cooler and presented them to Hunter. Hunter was certain the bartender considered Budweiser to be swill for the swine rather than the King of Beers.
“Sir, your beverages are ready,” announced the bartender. “Would you like two glasses, sir?”
“No, thanks,” replied Hunter. Declining the glasses for his beers turned the furrowed-brow frown of the tuxedo-clad bartender into a full-blown scowl of contempt for the uncouth, plebian American. Hunter provided his room key to charge the beers and slung his duffle bag over his shoulder.
Hunter admired the incredible view of the Acropolis from the bar’s outdoor terrace. The hotel was minutes away from all of the major attractions of Athens, although Hunter wouldn’t be able to enjoy them.
Hunter traveled frequently and was never interested in social interaction with others. He hated eating alone in a restaurant setting, so he typically ordered room service. A couple of beers for an appetizer would allow him to settle in and relax while he waited for his dinner to be delivered.
He made his way down the marble steps and turned in the direction of the elevators when he caught a glimpse of a uniformed American officer. In the middle of the lobby was a neon-blue glass sculpture of a business-suited traveler cartwheeling through the spacious entryway.
Amidst the well-dressed clientele of the Athenaeum, the American in dress whites was clearly eye-catching. Hunter, curiosity taking hold, moved closer to the registration desk to get a better look. The woman was tall with blond hair and quite shapely. This was the second beautiful woman that had caught Hunter’s eye that day, in Greece of all places. Maybe I need to get back into dating?
Momentarily awestruck, Hunter was busted staring when the woman turned around after completing her check-in and looked directly at him. Embarrassed, Hunter immediately sank into himself and frantically looked back and forth for a place to hide. When the immediate moment of awkwardness passed, he then recognized who the woman was—the CDC doctor he’d met in Guatemala.
