Face of the Earth

by Doug Raber

  Jennings paused to stare intently at Jake. “You’ve said you have evidence regarding the origin of the outbreak, but what you’ve told me so far amounts to little more than speculation. What I need now is real evidence. This morning, you said you’d bring it to me.”

  Jake and Sarah looked at each other hesitantly, and then Jake said, “We’re not sure yet. Sarah needs to check her e-mail. The answer should be here by now.” I hope.

  “Do you have Wi-Fi here in the house?” Sarah asked.

  “That would be out of the question. How do you think it would look if some neighborhood kid hacked into the wireless network of a senior FBI official? But I can give you something a lot better. He went to a small desk in the corner of the kitchen and pulled out a cable. “The other end of this is linked to a top-of-the-line high-speed connection. It’s secure, so I’ll have to enter a password for you. But it will get you onto the Internet. You have a portable computer with you?”

  Sarah nodded and reached for the backpack that she had placed on the floor next to her chair. She went over to the desk, and powered up the laptop. After a few keystrokes, she backed away. “It wants the password.”

  Jennings entered the code. “Go ahead.”

  Sarah went to the Gmail site and entered her username and password. In a few seconds her in-box appeared. There was a single message—the old one from her father. But her initial excitement turned to utter disappointment. “It’s not here, Jake. Nothing from Charles.”

  “It’s only 8:15. He wouldn’t let us down, Sarah. Try again. Hit the refresh button.”

  Sarah did as Jake asked. Nothing. Just the old message. For about three minutes, each of which seemed to last an hour, Sarah periodically clicked the refresh button on the screen. Each time the result was the same. Jennings had started to pace back and forth across the kitchen, when Sarah nearly screamed. “Here it is! He sent it.”

  The message was from C_Evans@hotmail.com. “He didn’t use his university account. Maybe that’s a good sign.”

  The message was short.

  Attached file has data. Only enough time for partial analysis. Results are preliminary. Also strange. Tried to focus on same regions of genome as Sulaiman. Results don’t seem to match known strains.

  “That’s good. He used the same protocol that we’ve used at CDC,* so we can compare his results with we did in Farmington.”

  “Who is Sulaiman?”

  “He’s a CDC scientist, sir. He led the pioneering work on this.”

  Sarah opened the attachment and then opened a second file from the flash drive that Jake handed her. She put the images into adjacent windows on the screen and moved away, so Jake could get a better look at the two images that were displayed.

  Jake studied them for a few moments, and then he started moving his index finger back and forth between the two windows. “It’s a match! There’s your evidence, Mr. Jennings. It’s not bioterrorism. What my colleague just sent me is the genetic analysis of the sample from 70 years ago. It’s identical to the virus that killed the child in Farmington. And it didn’t come from a terrorist.”

  “You told me this morning it came from a physician’s microscope slide. How did it get to Farmington?”

  “The slide was part of a collection that a teacher’s aide bought on eBay. Her child put the slide in his mouth, and he was infected. It was an accident. You’re looking at definitive proof that it wasn’t terrorism!”

  Sarah and Jake both looked at Jennings, waiting for his reaction. His expression was completely unreadable. “This is bad. Extremely bad.”

  “No sir. You must have misunderstood. The news is good. It was all accidental, and there’s a good chance that the outbreak has been contained. Even better, the strains from the 1940s resulted in low CFR outbreaks.”

  Jake noticed the puzzled looks on the faces of the other two. “Sorry, that means low Case Fatality Rate, it’s a standard term in epidemiology. But it means we can be optimistic that the outbreak will turn out to be relatively minor.”

  “That isn’t what I was referring to, Jake. You already told me that you thought the outbreak had been contained. Pardon me, if this sounds cynical, but I’m not worried about the possibility of a few more deaths from this smallpox outbreak. My concern right now is a few million people dying—innocent people in Iran.”

  Jake and Sarah both went numb. “You heard me correctly. The National Security Council is meeting in emergency session tomorrow to make a final recommendation to the President. There’s a proposal on the table. It was put forward early today by the Secretary of Defense. If the President accepts the proposal, tomorrow night the United States will launch nuclear missiles against Tehran.”

  * * *

  Day 33: Gathering Evidence

  Sarah and Jake were dumbfounded by Jennings’ revelation. Jake, still incredulous, responded first. “With all due respect, sir, they can’t possibly recommend an attack. Not now. Not now that we know that it wasn’t terrorism.”

  “No disrespect taken, Jake. But you have to understand the real world of international politics and diplomacy. And how things are done here in Washington. This idea did not suddenly pop up in the minds of senior politicians because of the outbreak. There are people throughout the federal government—in Defense, State, Homeland Security, even inside the White House—who have wanted to attack Iran for a long time.”

  “You mean because of their efforts to develop their nuclear capabilities?”

  “That’s part of it. But it goes back much further. Ever since the overthrow of the Shah and the Islamic Revolution in the late 1970s, our relations with Iran have been a disaster. Oil has always been a part of it. Iran has huge oil reserves. And don’t forget the hostage crisis. The Islamic student revolutionaries attacked the American embassy and held our diplomats, more than 50 of them, for nearly a year and a half. So you’ve got lots of reasons for some government officials to harbor a long-term hatred of the Iranian regime.

  “But that was a long time ago.”

  Do the math, Jake. In 1979, people who were at an early career stage in government or the military, or whose parents were in senior positions, would have been in their mid-twenties. That was 35 years ago, so it would put them at around 60 now, just about the age for someone to be in a senior government position, someone still harboring a grudge.”

  “Can’t you just tell them what we’ve learned? What you’ve learned about the smallpox outbreak. That it wasn’t terrorism. And it didn’t involve Iran.” Jake was pleading.

  “The people we’re talking about don’t care. They only need an excuse. And if the excuse turns out to be wrong, they won’t mind. It won’t stop them.”

  “But it can’t be a gigantic conspiracy. There are too many honest and ethical people in government service. I know. I work with them.”

  “I know that Jake. And you’re right. It isn’t a giant conspiracy. It’s only a small one. But it has potentially catastrophic aims. The intelligence has been distorted. And now the distortions—some would say ‘lies’—have taken on a life of their own. I need to get this information you’ve shown me directly to the President, or at least to a senior member of the cabinet. If I try to use regular channels, it will almost certainly get torpedoed by someone in the Defense Department.”

  “You talked about the Under Secretary for Intelligence …”

  “Right, Robinson Edwards. He’s a problem, but I can’t be sure if he bears any responsibility. Things are highly compartmentalized in Defense, and he may not even know how his intelligence reports are being used. All I can say with any certainty is that the problem is somewhere between his level and the President’s National Security Advisor. I need to circumvent that chain. And it will be difficult.”

  Jennings walked several steps away from Jake and Sarah. Then he turned back. “This is going to be a long night. I assume I can count on your help?”

  Both nodded.

  “All right then. As I said a few minutes ago, a lot of this is class
ified.” Jennings had walked over to his desk and removed two pieces of paper.

  “I’m glad I had these forms lying around. I was planning to review them for possible revision, but they’ll work fine in their present form. He wrote a few words on each of them and then handed one to Sarah and one to Jake. “These are nondisclosure agreements. I can’t issue you a security clearance, but by signing these, you are agreeing that you won’t talk further about any of the classified information that I convey to you.”

  “But …”

  “Don’t go there, Sarah. We’ll talk about your role as a reporter after this is over. Right now, these are legal and national security issues that need to be covered, in large part for me. If I don’t establish the legal cover, our efforts could be undermined at the last minute. And all three of us might spend Christmas in a cell.”

  Reluctantly, Sarah and Jake signed and dated the documents and gave them back to Jennings.

  “Oh, shit!”

  Sarah turned to Jennings with an embarrassed expression. “Sorry, sir.” Then she turned to Jake. “I just remembered, Jake. The antiques dealer. What do we do about her?”

  In response to Sarah’s query, and even more to an intensely questioning look from Jennings, Jake answered cautiously. “The picture that Sarah took? The photo of the dead smallpox victim? She found a business card near his body. From a woman who deals in antiques and Indian artifacts. We think that she might have been in contact with the deceased during the time he was contagious. I passed the information to a CDC official in Atlanta after I left Farmington. He didn’t even know that there had been an outbreak in New Mexico.”

  “You mean to tell me there may be somebody just walking around spreading the disease across the whole United States? After you told me that the outbreak was contained?”

  “I still believe it’s been contained. The incubation period is usually about two weeks. Jack Redhouse, he’s the man in the photograph, left his house in Farmington almost exactly two weeks ago. He went to a cabin in the nearby hills, where he died sometime later. His vehicle was found abandoned a few miles away, and we think this antiques dealer gave him a ride. If she was exposed two weeks ago, she wouldn’t have been contagious until the last couple of days. I called my colleague at CDC on Friday, so there’s a high probability he got to the woman in time.”

  “A ‘high probability’ isn’t enough now, Jake. We need to find out about for certain. Otherwise, it could undermine all our arguments. You have to call your colleague for an update.”

  “We’ve been a little reluctant to make any phone calls. We called you from a pay phone in West Virginia, and we’ve pretty much used up our anonymous phones.”

  “Anonymous phones?”

  Sarah was embarrassed. “Uh, yeah. I bought several prepaid cell phones. For one of them I said I’d been robbed and all my ID had been taken. And I gave a fake name. For the others, I used a fake ID.”

  Jennings frowned. “I’ll just forget you said that. This isn’t the time to worry about it. I have a secure line here in the house, but using it could have repercussions. The content of the call would be scrambled, but if someone is monitoring your colleague’s calls, they could get the number. And that would lead them right back to the FBI. If we have an advantage now, we’d like to keep it.”

  “Two things, Mr. Jennings,” Sarah said. “The good part is that there’s no way anybody could trace this one phone to me. It really should be clean. I just made up a random name, and it’s never been used. We’ve been keeping it for an emergency, and this sure seems like an emergency. Could they trace a call back to this location?”

  “Only to the general neighborhood. Even the newer units with GPS don’t give exact locations immediately. They might figure out you were in this area, but they wouldn’t pinpoint this house. At least, not if they’re only working with the technology available to local law enforcement. But if they brought in the NSA, all bets are off. Maybe that’s something to consider, since NSA is administered by the Defense Department. What’s the other thing?”

  Sarah winced. “That one may be a real problem. Remember, we said that they found me at the airport? Because of my phone? Well I called your number to send you the photograph. So they may already have the link right back to the FBI. We’re screwed. Uh, excuse me again.”

  Once again Jennings raised an eyebrow. He almost smiled. “You’re not the only one who knows how to obtain an anonymous cell phone. Let’s just say you don’t have to worry about that telephone call linking you and Jake to me. At least, not directly. If they’ve got NSA looking at us, there isn’t anything we can do about it. Right now, I think it would be a good idea for you to call your colleague, Jake.”

  Sarah handed Jake her notebook, opened to the page where she had written Frank Wirth’s cell number. Wirth answered on the fourth ring. “Frank, it’s Jake. I need to find out what you learned about Danielle Brandis.”

  “I’m not sure I should be talking to you. This is very fucked up, Jake.”

  “Were you able to find her?”

  There was a long pause. “Yeah, we found her.”

  “And? Goddamn it Frank, tell me what’s going on!”

  “Our team went to her shop. We were lucky. She was sick as a dog. She couldn’t even leave her house. None of the neighbors even knew she had returned from her trip. So she’s had no contact with anybody for about four days. When she first came home, she was tired from traveling, jet lag and all. She didn’t even start to feel sick until the next day. But she never went back outside.”

  “What was it Frank? Do you have a diagnosis?”

  “Smallpox.”

  “Were you able to do anything on the genetic sequence?”

  “We’ve started. But the lab guys are confused. The sequence doesn’t match any of the known virus strains, from here or Russia. The data suggest something much earlier in the evolutionary chain. Basically they’re saying it’s impossible. Except for the fact that they’re looking at it.”

  Another pause.

  “One more thing, Jake. There was another person exposed.”

  “Oh, fuck! Besides the antique dealer? How bad is it? How many contacts?”

  “We lucked out, Jake. The guy is ex-military, name is Gregory Anniston, and he was vaccinated just a couple of years back. He was still in the reserves when the Iraq war started.”

  “So he’s okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay. At least as far as smallpox is concerned. We’ve got him and his family under full medical surveillance in a Type X facility at Fort Detrick. He’s happy he doesn’t have smallpox, but I think he’s having a real problem trying to explain to his wife how he was exposed to it. Anyway, it’s a good result from a public health standpoint.”

  “So you’re pretty sure there were no other exposures?”

  “Almost positive. Anniston was never infectious, and the woman, Danielle Brandis, was already isolated in her own house by the time she became contagious. And by the way, she’s been getting better over the last day or so. This seems to be a fairly mild strain of the virus. And the man who died in Farmington? You know about him? Name of Jack Redhouse?”

  “I know about him.”

  “Well, I learned about him, too. But only after I reported this new case up through the chain of command. That was really fucked up, Jake. I should have been told about him first thing. For Christ’s sake, I’m in charge of monitoring and tracking infectious diseases. Especially if there’s a bioterrorism question.”

  “We tried to get the information to your group, Frank. They were blocking our communications.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with all the secrecy, Jake. From the beginning, I was told it was just a training exercise, but that sure as hell wasn’t the case. Anyway, Redhouse seems to be the source of the infection, although everything is still hush-hush. Only a few of us have been given any of the details. If you hadn’t called me about this Baltimore case, I’d still be totally in the dark.”

  “Did
you get any details on the contact with Jack Redhouse?”

  “Yeah, we did. The antiques dealer and her …” He paused. “… her companion met Redhouse while he was contagious. His truck broke down, and they were the first people he met. They gave him a ride to his cabin and kept on going. So the chain of exposure seems to have stopped there. It looks like the outbreak was contained. Was it terrorism, Jake?”

  “Can’t say anything now, Frank. We’ll talk soon. Thanks for all your help. You’ve done more than you know. Take care of yourself.”

  Jake turned to the others. They had only heard half of the conversation, but it was enough to know that the news was good. Jake shook his head in resignation. “The woman has an active case, but she’s been in complete isolation since before she became contagious. And the man she was with—he was exposed, too, but he’d been vaccinated. They’ve isolated him and his family just in case. We dodged a bullet.”

  Jennings stood up. “Now all we have to do is stop some other bullets from ever being fired.”

  * * *

  Chapter 36

  Sarah and Jake

  While the last smallpox case in Somalia marked the end of the natural disease, the smallpox threat was not yet fully vanquished, as was dramatically demonstrated in England in late August 1978. A medical photographer, working in the Birmingham University Medical School, was infected by the smallpox virus, which had escaped from a nearby laboratory and circulated through an air vent. The photographer was immediately placed in hospital and 200 of her contacts were put into isolation. The professor in charge of the lab with the variola virus, upon hearing the news, cut his own throat. The photographer also died, smallpox’s last victim …

  —Canadian Journal of Public Health, 2002‡