Virus Hunters 3: A Medical Thriller

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Virus Hunters 3: A Medical Thriller Page 3

by Bobby Akart


  Ghosh, who, like his friend Yeshi and the other native Himalayans, preferred a single name, gestured toward the west. “They have sought reinforcements. That is good news for our adventure.”

  “Why?” Harper asked. She was still trying to recover from the highly charged encounter during which she had attacked a man with an autopsy knife and shot at several soldiers during their escape from the Lhasa military infirmary.

  “There is only one military outpost between here and Gangga in Tingri County. They will be too undermanned to set up roadblocks. We have to prepare to leave.”

  Harper took a deep breath and exhaled. She turned to Kwon, who’d remained stoic throughout the conversations with the Sherpas. Harper sensed he was still on edge, too.

  “Can we pull this off?” she asked in a whisper.

  “If it’s necessary to find patient zero, then that’s what has to be done. We’re putting a lot of trust in the abilities of these guys.”

  Harper smiled and looked at the group of long-haired, unshaven young men who milled about as they gathered their gear from storage sheds and the retreat huts scattered about the hilltop.

  “They’re not necessarily awe-inspiring, are they?” she asked with a chuckle. The lighthearted question resulted in both Americans visibly relaxing their shoulders. With the tension eased, Kwon opened up a little more.

  “There are so many unknowns. We have to breach this military outpost that we know nothing about. Secure snowmobiles without detection or living witnesses. Then we have to race up the east face of Mount Everest, find a dead body that could be covered in snow, and then escape into Nepal without getting caught.”

  Harper slapped Kwon on the back. “Piece of cake.”

  “No, not really.”

  Harper turned serious as the squall of the sirens racing down the highway drew near. “I watched you in action, Kwon. Those phony Action Jackson superheroes in the movies couldn’t pretend to do what you’re capable of. I see why my husband trusted me in your hands.”

  Kwon looked down and shook his head. “Everything fell into place, that’s all.”

  “Aw, shit, Kwon. That may be true, but as I look back on it, you anticipated everything. It’s as if you ran all the scenarios through your head during the entire fight and knew the outcome in advance.”

  “Training.”

  Harper shook her head and smiled. “You undersell yourself.”

  “I don’t like blindly going into these situations.” He gestured for her to walk toward the ambulance. He reached inside and retrieved their weapons. “We know nothing about this outpost, its manpower, or whether there are enough snowmobiles to accomplish our mission.”

  “It’s all we’ve got.” Harper was stating the obvious, but she knew he’d agree with her.

  He shrugged and nodded. “Certainly is.”

  One of the Sherpas shouted, “A car is coming!”

  “Did you hear anything?”

  Kwon shook his head from side to side. “Stay here.” He began running up the slight incline to the top of the rise.

  Harper ignored his instructions and jogged closely behind him until she caught up. He glanced over at her and scowled. She immediately picked up on his demeanor.

  “I can help.”

  “I’ve already put you in enough danger,” he shot back. “Please go back. I’ve got this.”

  Harper glanced over her shoulders. Yeshi and the Sherpas were scrambling to hide the bullet-riddled ambulance on the back side of their car barn. They continued to shove climbing gear into the trunks of the five street racers.

  Harper ignored him. “How many shots do you have left?”

  Kwon patted his cargo pants pockets. “Dammit!”

  “See, you do need me.”

  The two topped the hill, and Kwon quickly issued his orders. “Post up behind those boulders on the left. You focus on the passengers. I’ll cover the driver.”

  “Okay.” She began to split off from him and run toward the rock pile.

  “Let me fire first!” he shouted after her. “I’m gonna take out the tires and then eliminate the driver.”

  The sound of spinning gravel could be heard, indicating the vehicle was moving at a fast rate of speed up the gravel road leading to the Sherpas’ retreat. Harper was in position, but the curve leading to the opening between the rock outcroppings prevented her from seeing the oncoming vehicle until the last moment.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she checked to see if Kwon was in position. He was still climbing up the side of the rocky hill when the tires spun again. Louder this time. She readied her rifle and raised it so her sights were on the first available location where the car would be in view.

  She slid her finger onto the trigger and flipped the safety. She steadied her breathing, set her jaw, and closed one eye to focus like her father had taught her so many years ago. The vehicle was coming into view, and she would see it before Kwon. She was ready.

  “Don’t shoot!” she yelled. “It’s them. Don’t shoot!”

  Still cautious, she broke cover and walked into the driveway with her gun pointed at the Volkswagen C-Trek driven by Fangyu. Kwon came bounding down the rocky slope and joined her side. Fangyu waved out of the driver’s side window, and Dr. Zeng’s ear-to-ear grin indicated they were unharmed.

  Harper lowered her weapon and waved them forward until Fangyu brought the car to a stop. Kwon immediately quizzed him.

  “Were you followed?’

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? We heard sirens.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. They didn’t follow us.”

  Kwon was still concerned. “How did you find our location?”

  “Yeshi texted me, so I tracked him on GPS.”

  “How?” asked Kwon.

  Fangyu held his phone display up for Kwon to see. “I have an app for that.”

  Kwon rolled his eyes and stood away from the car. “Follow behind us.”

  As they rolled slowly down the hill toward the awaiting Sherpas, Harper chatted with Dr. Zeng. She gave him the short version of what they’d been through in order to obtain the samples.

  She did not, however, provide him the details of their plans to retrieve the body of the dead climber on Mount Everest. She hadn’t anticipated seeing the two men again, so she didn’t discuss it with Kwon. But she was sure he’d agree they were better off not knowing what was happening next just in case they were apprehended and forced to speak by the security police or the MSS agents.

  When the car pulled to a stop, she waved Kwon over to join her. “I didn’t say anything about going to Everest. There is no need for them to know our plans.”

  “I agree. Very good, Harper. I will keep them both busy for a moment. Let Yeshi and the Sherpas know to keep their mouths shut. It looks like they’re almost ready to go.”

  “Okay. I also have an idea that I want to run by Dr. Zeng. Before I do, how many sample vials of each organ did you prepare?”

  “Two, just like you asked.”

  “Great.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, originally, I wanted each of us to carry a set. You know, just in case we got separated, or, um, whatever …” Harper’s voice trailed off.

  Kwon understood. “Hey, I get it. It’s still a good idea.”

  “Well, I have a better one. Let me talk to Yeshi and I’ll be back.”

  Harper darted off toward Yeshi and Ghosh, who stood at the back of the street racers. Kwon turned to speak with Fangyu and Dr. Zeng.

  “We’re not finished here, but you two are.”

  “Why? We can still help you.”

  “You’ve done enough. Now, we need to get you on your way home. May I have the keys?”

  Fangyu exited the Volkswagen and turned the keys over to Kwon. Dr. Zeng exited the car as well, and the three men stood at the back of the four-door wagon. Kwon retrieved their duffle bags and set them to the side. Then he showed Fangyu the hidden compartment.

  Using the magnetic key card, he r
eleased the obscure latch and the lid popped open. He retrieved the additional magazines for the Sig Sauer weapons as well as the remaining boxes of nine-millimeter ammunition. Finally, he revealed the three neatly bundled stacks of yuan. Each stack represented ten thousand dollars US. He pushed two aside and picked up the third.

  “These are for you,” he stated matter-of-factly. “The remainder will be enough for us to accomplish our purpose. The rest will help you make a new life. I wish I could do more.”

  Both Dr. Zeng and Fangyu picked up a bundle of the newly minted bills. Then tears streamed down their faces.

  Chapter Three

  Sherpas’ Retreat

  Lhasa, Tibet, China

  By the time Harper returned, the two men who’d risked so much to help her, as well as their fellow countryman, had regained their composure. They placed the money in the secret compartment and were about to close it when she stopped them.

  “Wait, before you do that, I have a question.” She held up the yellow fanny pack that held the vials of lab specimens to be examined by the CDC. “Do you have a secure way to ship something out of the country? Without scrutiny, of course.”

  “The bag?” asked Dr. Zeng, pointing at the fanny pack.

  “No, only part of its contents.” She carefully retrieved four vials of biological samples from the deceased helicopter pilot. They had all been labeled by Kwon. “I have eight samples to be studied by the CDC. Is it possible for you to send four of these to the United States?”

  “Shipments are always scrutinized by China Post,” replied Dr. Zeng. China Post was the equivalent of the U.S. Postal Service. It operated as a state-owned enterprise and remained under the watchful eye of the Communist Party.

  “That is true, Uncle. However, DHL Global does not have the same inspection methods as China Post. I have a classmate who works part time for Twinkling Star.”

  “Who?” Dr. Zeng asked.

  “They make handbags imitating all the major brands—Louis Vuitton, Prada, and Gucci. The leather is the same, but the price is not. Very cheap.”

  “How does this help, Dr. Randolph?”

  “I can have my friend plant these vials in a shipment to the United States. Customs is too busy to inspect every handbag. Thousands are shipped from Urumqi every week.”

  “Did you say Gucci?” asked Harper as her eyes lit up. Kwon shot her a look and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Yes. Do you have a favorite?” asked Fangyu.

  “A Gucci clutch?”

  “Yes, of course. However, it is a small bag. I will need to send two.”

  “All the better,” mumbled Harper as she searched through her duffle bag and scribbled the address of her assistant, Dr. Elizabeth Becker. She also hand-scribbled a note to her. It read, Hey Becker! We’re Gucci!

  Harper handed the note and Becker’s address to Fangyu. Then she carefully placed the specimen vials in his hands. “Please be careful with these, and if you can, include this note.”

  Yeshi approached the group. He pointed to the gray, mid-level clouds that gathered on the horizon, portending more precipitation. “We must go.”

  Harper turned to Dr. Zeng and Fangyu. They hugged as they said their goodbyes. Moments later, the last two remaining male members of the Qi lineage known for their anti-communist activism were driving away.

  Ghosh was the first to start the engine on his four-door Honda Civic. The ordinary family sedan had been transformed into a speed demon. The modified exhaust system featured larger diameter exhaust pipes, allowing the gases of the motor to leave more quickly. The result was a near-deafening roar.

  He pulled up the hill toward Kwon and Harper, taking care not to spin the tires or drag the bottom of the lowered vehicle. The two Americans looked to one another and Harper shrugged.

  “It’s all we’ve got,” she said, repeating her statement from their earlier conversation.

  The other four vehicles revved their engines and slowly pulled out of the car barn. A Toyota Supra was followed by a candy-apple-red Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. The Chiclet-green Subaru Impreza was next, and lastly, the canary-yellow Mazda Miata. The colors would shock the conscience of most American car owners, but to the street racers, it defined them. It was their way to express their individual personalities.

  “You two can ride with me,” said Ghosh as he pulled up beside them. “Yeshi, will you copilot?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me,” insisted Kwon. He raised the suppressed Sig Sauer MPX for Ghosh to see. “In America, we call it riding shotgun.”

  Ghosh found this to be hilarious. “Oh, yes. Like in the old cowboy movies. Like John Wayne!”

  Kwon nodded. “Something like that.”

  He climbed into the passenger seat, and Harper sat on the opposite side of the vehicle behind Ghosh. Yeshi sat to her right. Once they were buckled in, Ghosh waved the Toyota and Mitsubishi around to take the lead. He turned slightly in his formfitting Cipher Viper series racing seat, the tubular frame restricting his movement, as was intended.

  “The security patrols know us,” he began to explain. “Those two will drive ahead several miles and warn of us roadblocks or closures. At gas stops, we will alternate positions, but my car will always remain in the middle using the other four as a buffer.”

  “Very smart,” said Kwon with a nod of approval.

  “With Yeshi on board, we have ten drivers. We will drive continuously and as fast as safety permits. It will take just one day to arrive with two stops for petrol.”

  His passengers relaxed and got settled into their seats. Ghosh raised his left arm through the window and created a circular motion as if he were getting ready to lasso a calf, just like John Wayne. A minute later, they were on the road and roaring toward Tingri County and the PLA outpost.

  Everyone was still too excited to sleep, so they made small talk. The exhaust system was loud and Ghosh was driving over eighty miles per hour, forcing the group to speak loudly at times to be heard. The modified Honda was built for speed, not practicality or comfort.

  Harper leaned between the seats and asked, “You’re taking a great risk by helping us. Yeshi said you don’t want any money. Why would you do this for us?”

  Ghosh leaned back into his seat and sighed. “Many years ago, when the coronavirus pandemic spread, the government shut down the mountain. We all lost our livelihood. My family suffered greatly because the Communist Party chose to cover up the disease instead of warning us all so we could protect ourselves.” He sighed again and shook his head before continuing.

  “I was a teenager when it happened. My father and oldest brothers were Sherpas. The climbing seasons had been interrupted before due to natural disasters like the earthquake in 2015. The mountain had never been closed for an entire season.

  “My family relied on the money my father and brother made to live on the rest of the year. We were starving. It was not just us. Thousands of porters, cooks, and helpers earned only a meager wage during the season. They also suffered.”

  The group was quiet for a moment and then Harper spoke up. “I am sorry that happened to your family. I bet your father and brother were glad when the next season came around. China and Nepal didn’t suffer from the second wave of COVID-19 like we did.”

  Ghosh’s chin dropped to his chest. “They never climbed Everest again. That summer, they both died on Annapurna in Nepal.”

  Harper closed her eyes and hung her head as well. She was immediately sorry she’d broached this topic of conversation with Ghosh.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ghosh explained, “They were desperate for work. As the summer came to an end, they were contacted to lead an expedition up Annapurna. The small group of climbers were wealthy but inexperienced for this challenge. You see, the world knows Mount Everest and considers it to be a dangerous mountain. It is not the most dangerous. Many point to K2 or even Nanga Parbat in Pakistan. That is not the case. There have only been around two hundred successful summits on Annapurna. D
ozens have died trying. One in three, actually. My father and brother were among them.”

  Darkness had set in, and the glow of the dashboard illuminated his face as he continued. “They did it for the money, knowing the risks. My family was paid, but truthfully, we lost everything.

  “They would not have risked their lives if the government had told us the truth. The disease would not have been so widespread. The climbing season could have been salvaged. My family would still be together.”

  Ghosh’s cell phone rang, and he immediately picked it up, seemingly glad to change the somber mood in the car. When he finished the call, he relayed the purpose of the call.

  “My friends are at the petrol station. It is very quiet ahead of us. They will wait until we refuel, and then my other friends will take the wheel. It will be Yeshi’s turn to drive.”

  Harper leaned forward and squeezed the young Sherpa’s shoulder. The Himalayan man looked into his rearview mirror and smiled. His change in posture allowed the dashboard lights to reflect the moisture on his cheeks.

  Harper’s mission in life was to protect mankind from deadly pathogens. In the moment, she thought Ghosh’s life had been devoted to an equal, if not higher, purpose.

  Chapter Four

  Shigatse, Tibet, China

  The five cars filled their fuel tanks in Shigatse, a prefecture-level city often referred to as the Gateway to Mount Everest. Known for its colorful monasteries and beautiful views of the surrounding mountains, Shigatse allowed them to take a break, top off their tanks, and prepare for the last leg of their journey to the People’s Liberation Army outpost in sparsely populated Tingri County.

  During their ten-minute respite, Harper chatted up the Sherpas who spoke English. With Yeshi’s help as translator, she learned one of the men, Babu Chiri, had been part of the team of Sherpas leading a group up from North Base Camp just before the accident. It was Babu’s information Ghosh and the others had relied upon in determining the whereabouts of the bodies that had fallen off the steep cliffs.

 

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