by Bobby Akart
Randolph House
Heard’s Fort, Georgia
Joe sat in a chair and crossed his legs. His face became serious as he looked each of them in the eye. “I have been contemplating all of this for years. Berger, I think you’ll agree. At times your hands are tied when it comes to your investigations. Think about it, to investigate and solve this one, you had to overstep your authority to arrange for Harper and Kwon to get into China.”
“You’re right, Joe. You’ve had to listen to me piss and moan about it for years. The CDC is a massive bureaucracy in which the higher you climb on the organizational chart, the more fearful you become of losing your job because you stepped on the wrong politician’s toes.”
Joe turned to his wife. “Harper, I know you love what you do, but you’ve also complained many times about the CDC’s lack of resources due to budget constraints or even questionable spending priorities.”
She expanded on her position. “Joe, don’t get me wrong. The CDC does the best it can with what it has to work with. The budgets continue to get slashed, and those at the top, present company excluded, seem to allocate resources to pet projects beyond the CDC’s core purpose, which is to protect Americans from communicable diseases.”
Joe sighed. “I’ve set something in motion without consulting you. The window of opportunity was very narrow, and I had to make certain assumptions. Over the last three days, I’ve been in constant communication with the acting director of DARPA. As Kwon knows, Alicia Saffras is a temporary placeholder until the Senate confirms the president’s choice for the position. Fortunately, at least in this particular case, partisan politics didn’t get in the way of nominating Dr. Peter Kingman to provide a young, new perspective to DARPA’s leadership team.”
“I know Peter well,” interjected Dr. Reitherman. “We worked on projects together at BARDA and had several opportunities to interact while he’s been at the National Institutes of Health.” BARDA, an acronym for Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, was the research arm of the government focusing on chemical, biological, and nuclear events, as well as naturally occurring diseases.
“He speaks very highly of you, Berger. You too, Kwon. My colleagues in the Senate expect him to sail through confirmation next week and be sworn in as early as Friday. Not that it was necessary for his approval by the Senate, I pledged my support and willingness to assist him in any way I could.”
Joe turned in his chair and addressed Harper again. “We ended up meeting for dinner the other night, and he inquired about you. Because I’ve known him for years and trust him, I disclosed what this group has been up to. His response couldn’t have fit my goals any better.”
“What did he say?” asked Dr. Reitherman.
“He asked my opinion. Basically, his proposal was this in not so many words. If he could make a place within DARPA to combat these diseases outside the internal political constraints and bickering between rival nations, would anyone be interested? He didn’t name names, but simply threw it out there.
“As our conversation continued, I confided in him about the frustrations Berger and Harper had with the CDC. I also told him of Kwon’s answering the call of duty to assist Harper in her quest to find patient zero in China.” Joe took a deep breath before continuing.
“The bottom line is this. Peter sees you three as the nucleus of a covert team that will fight diseases before they hit American soil. Off the books, operating in the shadows in much the same way as Kwon has been doing for years. The difference will be that you’re fighting this unseen enemy that is every bit as deadly as a nuclear bomb, if not more so.”
Joe sat back to gauge everyone’s reaction. Harper had been aware of the proposal before she entered the house with Joe earlier. She’d had to pry it out of him, but he didn’t dare spring it on her like he was the others.
“How do I fit in?” asked Becker.
Joe quickly responded, “The wheels I set in motion will most likely result in Harper’s termination, especially since the Taylor administration knows it will potentially harm me politically. I have a plan for that, and her firing will backfire on the administration if they try to make political hay out of it. That being said, her getting fired will play right into our hands because then she becomes a free agent. When she joins DARPA, if that in fact becomes public knowledge, it would be seen as a logical landing place.
“As for Berger, he won’t be fired, formally, but I suspect he’ll be forced out through an unplanned early resignation. Again, this works in our favor. He will be the public face of this new covert operation within DARPA. Because of his connections to the agency already, plus with his relationship to Peter, this won’t raise eyebrows.
“Now, as for Woolie and Becker. It’s tempting to bring Woolie on board as a staff pathologist, but DARPA doesn’t have the facilities for that. However, they do have influence over counties and municipalities especially when it comes to their virtually unlimited budget. You can expect some fancy new equipment and an upgrade to your facility in Las Vegas. We can even orchestrate it to provide a feather in the cap for your mayor as well as Clark County governmental officials. We’ll get the necessary concessions enabling you to assist with our autopsies from time to time.”
“And me?” asked Becker nervously.
“You’ll have an important role as the eyes and ears within the CDC. The DARPA team will provide you valuable investigative information, and you can keep them abreast of your work. I imagine, with this secretive relationship, you’ll fast become a rising star within the EIS ranks. Does that sound good to you?”
“I’m in!”
“Woolie?” asked Joe.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Please, I would be honored to be a part of this team in any way possible.”
Joe turned to Dr. Reitherman. “Berger, I’m sorry I couldn’t discuss this with you in advance. I’ve known you for as long as I’ve known Harper.”
“You know her a little better than you know me,” he said with a chuckle.
“Can’t argue there. Here’s the thing, your abilities are squandered working as an administrator while people with less talent critique your every move but take the credit for your successes. Make no mistake, you’ll not be on the front page of any newspapers, but your ability to save American lives will be enhanced.”
“That’s all that matters to me,” said Dr. Reitherman. “You can count me in, too.”
“Kwon?” asked Joe.
“If this is where my country needs me, then I’ll be proud to serve.”
Joe rose out of his chair and quickly pulled two more beers out of the refrigerator. He handed one to Harper and smiled. She winked in response.
“What are we calling this new operation?” asked Dr. Reitherman.
“The killer Bs,” suggested Becker. She gestured to each member of the group as she spoke. “I’m Becker. Then you have Boychuck and Bergermeister.”
“Wait, what?” asked Dr. Reitherman.
“She calls you Bergermeister behind your back,” replied Harper.
“You do?”
“It’s all in fun. Now that I don’t work for you anymore, I can call you Bergermeister to your face.”
Dr. Reitherman shook his head and smiled before he turned to Joe. “When will this take effect? I need to know how much longer I have to make this young woman suffer while she is still in my employment.”
Becker backpedaled. “Hey! I was just kidding!”
The group laughed and Harper moved to rescue Becker from her boss’s wrath.
“Okay, Becker, what about Dr. Li Kwon? How do you make him a, quote, B?” She used her fingers to generate air quotes.
Becker furrowed her brow as she thought of an answer. “Oh, that’s easy. Kwon is a badass. That’s your B.” She pointed at him. Kwon nodded and managed a smile.
“And,” Harper began, stretching out the word, “moi?”
A devious grin came over Becker’s face. “Well, B also stands for …” she teased with her voice tr
ailing off.
“Don’t you dare go there, Becker!” protested Harper.
“Boss!” Becker exclaimed as she burst out laughing. “What did you think I was going to say?”
As everyone joined in the laughter, it was Joe who came up with the perfect title for this new operation.
“Virus Hunters. That’s what you are. Disease detectives who search for these microscopic organisms, deadly killers that never stop seeking out human beings to destroy.”
“I like it!” exclaimed Becker.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!”
“Virus Hunters. Has a nice ring to it,” added Dr. Reitherman.
Harper leaned over to Kwon. They exchanged fist bumps and subtly nodded to one another. With Kwon by her side in the field, she’d never face the same kind of restrictions identifying and studying deadly viruses like she had in the past.
She stood and raised her beer. “Virus Hunters. Cheers!”
Glasses clinked and congratulations were exchanged. Suddenly, Ma entered the room.
“I see y’all have found reason to celebrate. There’s nothing better than a good old Southern dinner to share the love of family and success. Join us in the dining room, please.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Randolph House
Heard’s Fort, Georgia
Ma and Mimi had pulled out the fine china that had been in the Randolph family since the turn of the nineteenth century. Dinner plates were already placed in front of each guest, containing certain garnishes, including pepper jelly, pats of locally churned butter, and pickles from Ma’s garden. All across the table, serving platters and bowls were filled with ham, both yams and white sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes with gravy, a variety of farm-to-table vegetables and freshly baked bread. The ladies of the house pulled out all the stops for their guests, as they sensed this home-cooked meal might be their visitors’ last for a while.
Once everyone was settled in their seats, Mimi, a devout Catholic like Ma and Harper, said grace. They preceded the blessing with the Sign of the Cross, and then recited in unison:
“Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.” They crossed themselves once again.
“My goodness, ladies,” began Joe. “I haven’t seen a spread like this since Christmas dinner last year.”
Dr. Boychuck rubbed his hands together. “Yes. Yes. Yes. The aroma is delicious in and of itself. I can’t wait to partake.”
The platters of food were passed around, and everyone loaded up on their favorites. Ma addressed the group. “Now, don’t be shy. We made enough for seconds and thirds. There’s a reason we have that big kitchen. Right, Mimi?”
“We’ve fed a lot more than this bunch,” she replied as she served herself a generous portion of fried okra, her specialty.
Harper reached across the table and snatched Becker’s pickle spear off her plate.
“Harper Randolph!” exclaimed Ma. “Don’t you dare reach across my table and take this young lady’s food!”
“But, Ma, she always lets me have her pickles.”
Becker defended Harper. “That’s right. I can’t touch them. Pickles give you warts.” She said it so matter-of-factly it caused uproarious laughter at the table. Ma forgot all about her effort to teach Harper some manners.
Throughout the meal, the guests came to know more about each other, and soon it sounded very much like any family dinner around America on a weekend.
Dr. Boychuck and Mimi chatted continuously about Las Vegas. She quizzed him about the drive-thru wedding chapels and Elvis sightings.
Becker discussed her food aversions with Ma, which included her dislike for coleslaw and, as she put it, unidentifiable noodle salads. Ma questioned whether Becker had sought psychiatric help for this abnormal behavior.
Dr. Reitherman and Kwon compared notes on who was still at DARPA since the last time the soon-to-be-former CSELS director had spent time there. Dr. Reitherman found that he and Kwon had several mutual acquaintances. Their conversation turned to places to live, and Kwon offered the services of a Realtor he knew who would be discreet. DARPA employees were known to keep to themselves. Kwon reminded Dr. Reitherman that their social lives revolved around others within the building, and even then, people tended to hang with those they worked most closely with. It helped foster a tight bond.
As for Harper and Joe, they held hands under the table, admiring the dynamic they’d help create. Different people from varied backgrounds had come together as a team to fight a deadly disease. The war was far from over, as there was always another battle brewing out there somewhere.
Harper leaned over and kissed Joe on the cheek. She whispered, “Thank you.”
He nodded and kissed her back. “Virus Hunters.”
Harper smiled and studied her new team again. She made eye contact with them, and they returned a knowing nod, smile, or wink. She lifted her wineglass to each as a silent toast.
She leaned in to Joe. “That’s what we do. Um, that, and save the world, of course.”
Joe chuckled. “My god, what have I done?”
That statement earned him a playful elbow to the ribs and another kiss. She repeated the words again before finishing her wine.
“Virus Hunters.”
THANK YOU FOR READING THE VIRUS HUNTERS!
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WHAT’S NEXT?
NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON: ODESSA REBORN, the first installment in the new Gunner Fox trilogy. You can purchase it by following this link to Amazon:
ODESSA REBORN
A Note from the Author
First, let me take a moment to thank you for reading my first series featuring Dr. Harper Randolph and the Virus Hunters! These characters and their story have been planned for three years since the success of my Pandemic series published in May 2017. During the course of my research, I became thoroughly convinced that our world was wholly unprepared for a global pandemic. Here’s why.
In the mid-twentieth century, a new weapon, the atomic bomb, shocked the world with its ability to destroy the enemy.
For centuries, another weapon has existed…
One that attacks without conscience or remorse…
Its only job is to kill.
They are the most merciless enemy we’ve ever faced…
And they’re one-billionth our size.
Be prepared to become very, very paranoid.
WELCOME TO THE NEXT GLOBAL WAR.
Over the past half century, the number of new diseases per decade has increased fourfold. Since 1980, the outbreaks have more than tripled. With those statistics in mind, one had to consider the consequences of a major pandemic and now we’re living the nightmare.
Death has come to millions of humans throughout the millennia from the spread of infectious diseases, but none was worse than the Black Death, a pandemic so devastating that uttering the words the plague will immediately pull it to the front of your mind. From 1347 to 1351, the Black Death reshaped Europe and much of the world.
In a time when the global population was
an estimated four hundred fifty million, some estimates of the death toll reached as high as two hundred million, nearly half of the world’s human beings.
This plague’s name came from the black skin spots on the sailors who travelled the Silk Road, the ancient network of trade routes that traversed the Asian continent, connecting East and West. The Black Death was in fact a form of the bubonic plague, not nearly as contagious and deadly as its sister, the pneumonic plague.
Fast-forward five centuries to 1918, an especially dangerous form of influenza began to appear around the world. First discovered in Kansas in March 1918, by the time the H1N1 pandemic, commonly known as the Spanish flu, burned out in 1919, it took the lives of as many as fifty million people worldwide.
A hundred years later, in 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic swept the planet destroying lives and the global economy. As of this writing, the death toll is still climbing as a treatment protocol hasn’t been established; there is no vaccine, and testing is in short supply.
Why does the history of these deadly pandemics matter?
Because it has happened before and it will happen again and again—despite the world’s advanced technology, or because of it. People no longer stay in one place; neither do diseases. Unlike the habits of humans during the Black Death and the Spanish flu, an infection in all but the most remote corner of the world can make its way to a major city in a few days. COVID-19 has proven that.
Terrible new outbreaks of infectious disease make headlines, but not at the start. Every pandemic begins small. Early indicators can be subtle and ambiguous. When the next global pandemic begins, it will spread across oceans and continents like the sweep of nightfall, causing illness and fear, killing thousands or maybe millions of people. The next pandemic will be signaled first by quiet, puzzling reports from faraway places—reports to which disease scientists and public health officials, but few of the rest of us, pay close attention.
