General Straub was flabbergasted. To date the most coveted title with six stars was General of the Armies. That title was only held twice in the United States. First, it was granted to General John Pershing in 1919 and posthumously to George Washington per appointment in 1976.
“I will go on television to tell the nation about the Declaration of war, your promotion, and the governments’ response to the alien invaders and their virus.” “Thank you, Madame President, for your confidence. We will find a good epidemiologist as soon as possible.” President Chung disconnected, wondering now how was she going to have an official inquiry into General Straub’s insubordination, given his promotion. General Straub had similar thoughts.
Next the video zoomed to the front of Bellevue Hospital and then the isolation ward. Alexi Utkin was not feeling well. Things had started going downhill some time Saturday night, about 30 hours from his exposure at Grand Central Station. He knew enough about incubation periods for viruses to be worried. At first, he thought it was a cold and complained on Sunday. They gave him ibuprofen and lots of fluids. As the nurse in protective garb walked into his room, she took one look at Alexi and asked him what was wrong. He answered, “I have that feel like shit, ache all over, and feel hot, then cold feeling. I think I have the flu.” He was worried that it was more than flu and from the exposure to the alien mist over Grand Central Station. Nurse Santiago aimed the infrared thermo-scanner at Ivan’s forehead. His temperature was 104. “I’ll get you some more ibuprofen, an IV drip and we’ll start you on Tamaflu right away.” She walked away and was thinking he’s one of several from the Grand Central exposure all with the same symptoms. I’ll have to notify the doctor in charge. God, I hope we’re not seeing the start of a flu epidemic, or something worse, she thought. She hoped her mask offered her enough protection. She scrubbed her hands with the alcohol sanitizer on the way out of the room.
The scene shifted to Killington, Vermont at Cabrot’s cabin. He was shown climbing into his F150. John was on his way to the Price Chopper in Rutland. He knew he had to get some supplies in fast before the plague or whatever the alien crafts had released spread to Rutland. He figured early today was within the margin of safety. Being an epidemiologist, he was well aware of timing to onsets of disease and the spread thereafter from patient zero. He was going to get his stuff, lock himself up in his cabin, and hope for the best. He drove into the parking lot. The Price Chopper lot was nearly choked with cars and it was early Monday morning. People must be starting to worry. Hopefully, the store was well stocked, he thought. As John wandered down the aisles, he searched for things that would keep over the long haul, either dried or canned goods. He watched as others filled their carriages with meat and poultry. John decided to add some to his carriage. It was still winter and even if the power failed, which he thought quite likely; they would keep on the deck in a cooler. Unlike most shoppers, he also added dried figs, various other dried fruits, various nuts, several bags of dry beans, rice and quinoa. He also stocked up on bottled water and canned vegetables, soups and canned hams. If and when the pump failed, the bottled water would come in handy. At the last minute he threw in a bunch of canned Spam, instant coffee, tea, some wine and powdered milk. Disgusting stuff, he thought, but when the real coffee and milk ran out, it would do.
PRESENT DAY. Sitting in the classroom, Paul watched the scene. It never failed to give him that bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he knew what was next in the video.
VIDEO: THE INCIDENT. The video zooms in on the beverage aisle in the Rutland Price Chopper. Meredith Parker struggled down the aisle. She felt terrible. What a crappy weekend this turned out to be, she thought. Somewhere in the middle of the wild after ski party on Saturday, she had started to feel like a cold was coming on. By Sunday morning, Meredith knew that it was likely the flu. She was sneezing, had chills, was feverish, her head ached as did many of her muscles. The weekend had turned out to be a bust. Anthony wanted nothing to do with her. He kept his distance. Skiing was not enjoyable at all.
Meredith had fortunately kept her rental car and drove to the Price Chopper first thing Monday morning. She was determined to stock up on caffeinated drinks and high sugar snacks to help her make the trip back to New York City. Because she had felt sick, she hadn’t made it in time for the Sunday Ethan Allen Express back to Penn station. As it turned out, it didn’t matter. Meredith had learned that Homeland Security had refused to allow any trains into or out of Rutland since her train had arrived. This stoppage of trains was cited as a preventive measure. Rumors ran rampant about an alien plague, but no one seemed sick enough to die as far as she could tell. It was just the normal old flu. Meredith figured she knew enough back roads to get around the road blocks. She didn’t want to miss too many classes.
She picked up a few cans of Coke, Monster drink, and a few bags of chips, and some Little Debbie snacks. Next she went over to the pharmacy area where she intended to buy some ibuprofen. As she arrived near the ibuprofen, Meredith suddenly felt very weak and started having difficulty breathing. Suddenly her sight started to black out and she started to fall over. Paul had just arrived at the pharmacy counter. He was low on his omeprazole medication for serious GERD, so he was picking up a three month supply. “Do you want a bag, asked the pharmacist?” “No,” said Paul, as he placed the bottle in his pants pocket. He then grabbed a few bottles of multi-vitamins.
John then saw Meredith starting to fall over from the corner of his eye and rapidly turned and grabbed her to keep her from crashing into the aisle of painkillers. As he did so, Meredith sneezed violently in his face. As John gently lowered her to the ground, several people came running. He yelled, “Call 911!” As he looked down at Meredith, he was horrified to see her looking bluish in the face and she had just voided her bladder. John felt her wrist and couldn’t detect a pulse. He eased himself from the gathering crowd and ran to the bathroom at the front of the store. As he ran, he thought, Oh God, could the alien bio-weapon be in Rutland already? It was not one of the cities with an alien craft over it. The nearest cities possibly infected were Boston and New York. According to the few things he had learned from the web via spontaneous cell phone videos was that the Guard had rounded up potentially exposed people in a hurry. John knew from his epidemiology experience that normal viruses did not cause one so young to stop breathing or to turn blue. This was something new and highly likely to be of alien origin. John turned on the hot water and aggressively scrubbed his hands and face with soapy hot water after rinsing his eyes under lukewarm water and discarding his sweater in the trash can. He had done his best, he thought, but there was no guarantee he wasn’t infected, given the sneeze directly in his face, especially his eyes and nose.
Returning to his carriage, John worried about the other people being exposed around the pharmacy area. While he felt badly, he rationalized that there was nothing he could do. John checked out at the front registers. The earnest young cashier asked him what the commotion was in the rear of the store. John said, “Oh, someone fainted. She looked real sick. I wouldn’t go back there if I were you. Make sure you don’t touch any of the customers. You never know what she might have. Could be the alien bio-weapon they been talking about.” The clerk handed John his sales slip. As John wheeled the carriage away, he turned and saw the clerk rubbing his hands together. John detected the smell of hand sanitizer. Smart kid, Paul thought. He might make it. As John left the store, he saw the ambulance pull up. The two EMTs jumped out. John made a spur of the moment decision. He rapidly approached them before they even finished taking out the litter. “Excuse me, guys. I’m a disease specialist. The young woman in there appears to be highly contagious. Be very careful. You never know what it is. Could even be the alien bio-weapon virus.” The two EMTs looked at him strangely. He noted that they were wearing latex gloves. With some satisfaction, he noted that they quickly placed disposable face masks on. Better than nothing, John thought. He felt somewhat better about what he had done. They might have though
t him crazy, but weren’t taking any chances. He loaded his car and sped off. John had one more stop to make.
John went further south down Route 7 a short distance. He pulled into the gun store’s parking lot. Since he was not a Vermont resident, he couldn’t buy any pistols or long guns. Actually, he only wanted to stock up on ammunition for the pistol and rifle he kept in the cabin for scaring off the bobcat when it came onto his property. John was worried about his dog, Roxanne, getting hurt. Now he might have to scare off two-legged varmints, if things got really bad with the virus, he thought. John smiled at the man behind the counter. “I would like some 9mm and 30-06 ammunition,” he asked. The salesman answered, “All I have left is jacketed hardball 9mm and 150 grain 30-06. It seems like there is a run on ammunition. I think this alien thing has everyone scared. I have to limit you to two boxes of each. Some of my best customers haven’t come by yet.” John answered, “Fine, I’ll take two of each. If I were you, I wouldn’t wait too long before closing and holing up. Someone just keeled over in Price Chopper. She was blue. I haven’t ever seen anything like it. Might be some strange new virus caused by the aliens. You never know.” The guy looked puzzled. “Keeled over, you mean like fainted or dead?” John looked at him and said, “Seriously dead.” John turned and left the store. He hoped the guy took his advice. As he left, he glanced back through the window. The guy was talking on his cell phone. Good, thought John. The more this information spreads, the more people will take precautions. It might even slow the spread and fatality rate. John turned right onto route 4 and drove back to his Killington place.
The scene switched back to NORAD. General Straub looked up from his desk at Lieutenant Colonel Lanzo, his best intelligence specialist. Straub had assigned him the task of finding anyone connected to the CDC who might still be alive. “General, Sir, I have something. There was a recent retiree, a Dr. John Cabrot, high up on the chain, an Associate Director. His record on the web is excellent. He is an epidemiologist of considerable renown. He recently sold his Atlanta home, but records show he owns a rather nice log cabin in Killington, Vermont. According to our data, the place is on the mountain off the main road. We have his cell phone number. He doesn’t seem to have a landline at his place. What are your orders, Sir?” General Straub answered. “Good work, Lieutenant Colonel. Have one of your officers call the number and explain to Dr. Cabrot that he is needed on a national security matter of great urgency. Tell him to stay there until our military team picks him up. You are to notify team Bravo to take their fastest air transport and switch to helicopters in Massachusetts and pick him up. Tell the team he comes period, even if they have to drag him. There is no choice. Tell them he is very high value and must be protected at all costs. They’ll know what that means. Tell them to wear biological protective gear. I can’t take any chances with the alien bio-weapon. That will be all, Lieutenant Colonel.”
The scene switched back to Bellevue Hospital. The Doctor placed the paddles on Alexi Utkin’s chest and yelled, “Clear.” The monitor continued to show a flat line. Doctor Jagbar sighed and said, “He’s dead and blue just like the other ones. I must notify Homeland Security that we have a problem. This isn’t your ordinary flu. Make sure all of you keep up with your protective gear at all times. This flu isn’t something you want to take a chance with.” Dr. Jagbar went off to notify Homeland Security.
Back at NORAD, General Straub listened to his Homeland Security contact in New York. The phone was pressed tightly to his head. He listened as Director Garrett spoke. “General, we are confident that the alien mist over Grand Central Station is indeed a bio-weapon. It starts off like the flu, but is much deadlier. Rather than getting better with treatment, the victims suddenly stop breathing and develop a blue cast to the skin. We are calling it the “Blue Flu.” While we don’t have enough victims to develop reliable statistics yet, it seems that very few survive. I also have a confirmed case in Rutland Vermont. The young woman had train tickets in her purse that suggested she was at Grand Central Station during the exposure time frame. Somehow she escaped our dragnet. She was on the Ethan Allen Express that we stopped and removed all the passengers. She managed to evade us. I also have scattered reports of similar deaths coming in from Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, Boston and Houston at this point. They are all travel hubs for airlines. It is going to be difficult, no, nearly impossible to prevent this from spreading. I have notified President Chung. We are going to need the military and the National Guard to keep a lid on this.” General Straub asked, “Any reports of Blue Flu from the other major cities across the globe?” Garrett answered, “Yes, unconfirmed as of now, but from reliable sources.”
General Straub picked up the hotline to President Chung. He was increasingly concerned about the civilian casualties. President Chung asked, “What do you suggest we do to limit this outbreak?” General Straub responded, “I suggest we issue orders to have the military shut down all airports to prevent arrivals from outside the United States and to prevent internal travel, too. I would do the same for trains and buses and seaports. I understand that Homeland Security has stopped some ground transportation. It should be a total closure. We’ll have to prevent all car and truck traffic, except for emergency needs. We have to contain this outbreak. Martial law is going to be even more unpopular soon, but we have no choice. President Chung, it is imperative that you go on national television and explain the situation to the general public and the military’s efforts to contain the virus.” “I can’t do that, at least not yet. I am extremely concerned that such action would panic the general public and result in more deaths that the alien virus would cause. I need some more time to finesse this matter. Speaking of the virus, from this point on the code name will be Blue Flu.”
The General hung up. He knew that the other military brass would be very pissed and likely to protest. He was certain that a few admirals would be happy if he screwed up. Fortunately, the Commander-in-Chief had the last word and would back him up. His new title didn’t hurt either. By now all the brass knew of his promotion. At least for now, he thought, we have a chance to contain the virus and prevent panic. He wondered how long the government would stand, if mass causalities were to happen. If the government fell, it probably wouldn’t matter much. We’d all be dead, he thought. He doubted that no branches other than his own, the Air Force, were going to be happy about this turn of events. General Straub didn’t agree with the decision to not go public, but at the very minimum the President should send word to the public that he was in charge of military response to the bio-weapon. At least the alien bio-weapon had an official name now, the Blue Flu virus, he thought. General Straub then picked up his Blackberry and called an emergency meeting of the NORAD Crisis Management Team for one hour from now.
“Yes, this is Dr. Cabrot. Yes, I am in my Killington cabin. Who wants to know?” “Dr. Cabrot, this is Captain Abrams at NORAD. I don’t know how much you know regarding the CDC and the alien virus.” John answered, “I know that the CDC is a radioactive hole and that the alien virus acts like the flu and you die unable to breathe and turn blue.” Captain Abrams said, “I guess you’ve been watching the internet recently.” “Something like that,” said John with a slight smile. He decided not to mention actually being present when the woman had died. “What do you want,” he asked? “We need your expertise to combat the virus. We’re a bit short in that department right now. The Emergency Powers Act has just been declared by the President. A military team is on its way to pick you up. It should arrive by helicopter in a few hours, actually two helicopters. Is your property clear enough to land them? “Yes,” said John. “Good. Don’t go anywhere. Pack a small bag. We’ll take care of your needs.” John asked, “Do I have a choice?” “No, you don’t.” “Just thought I’d ask,” said John as he hung up. John looked around. Packing wouldn’t be hard. Leaving here and wondering what would happen to his place was harder, he thought. He would insist that the dog go with him.
General Straub quickly updated
the NORAD team on the latest information regarding the Blue Flu. “Blue Flu poses a serious problem, even worse than the previous attacks by the alien spacecraft. What are your thoughts about where we go from here?” asked the General. Dr. George Chrispeels, the psychologist, was the first to speak. “It’s not going to be possible to keep a lid on the Blue Flu. First off, the relatives of the few that died already are going to be very suspicious. They’ll smell a cover up right away. Undoubtedly, some of the victims texted about being grabbed by the authorities before all the cell phones were confiscated. They’ll put two and two together and the rumor mill will get out of control. Some of the nurses and doctors, even though sworn to secrecy, will worry about their loved ones and get information to them somehow. It will spread across the internet like a raging fire, especially via Twitter and Facebook.”
Just then Lieutenant Colonel Kyle Lanzo from Military Intelligence interrupted. “It’s happened already. We are seeing the first believable internet stirrings on this issue. Two EMTs in Rutland Vermont have been interviewed by the local paper’s reporter. They claim an individual who identified himself as a disease specialist all but told them that a dead woman in the Price Chopper there died from an alien virus that turned her blue. It won’t be long before other reports come in from other cities about people dying the same way.”
The Manhattan Incident Page 11
