The Nightmare Scenario (36 page)

“We can deal with the speed boats,” said the Admiral. “The Coast Guard might be great guys, but they ain’t the fucking Navy. I can promise you that much. If we concentrate our resources on a blockade that goes around Cuba and up to Panama, I’m pretty sure we can make it hold. We can move units from the north if we don’t have to worry about the Atlantic. Any ship with enough speed to be a threat, we can pick up on radar. As for smaller vessels, it takes three weeks to cross from Europe so that’s not a problem for a while. I agree with Dr. Hughes, the real problem is the border with Mexico. The troop levels required would be massive, and this is the coyotes’ game. I say we should collaborate with Central America and put the quarantine point at Panama. I think we can commit to holding that line from our side.”

“Lieutenant Lane?” asked the National Security Advisor.

“As the sea blockade is a naval issue, and protecting the Mexican border is a task for the army, I don’t see why we can’t do both.”

“Dr. Hughes, how certain are you that the infection is not currently present north of Panama?” the National Security Advisor asked.

“I’m very confident on Mexico and Panama. I have limited access to Nicaragua and Cuba. That said, if the
infection was present in Central America, the probability that it would be in Nicaragua and not Mexico is miniscule, due to geographical math. Also, Cuba enforced a total quarantine very early on, so I don’t see how anything could be there.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go with Lieutenant Lane on this,” concluded the National Security Advisor. “Admiral, please prepare a brief for this operation. This meeting is over. We reconvene at 17.00 hours for an update, unless something happens in the meantime.”

Something did happen in the meantime.

AUGUST 21
^ST
, 2 P.M., AEOLUS’S TEMPORARY OFFICE, OLD EXECUTIVE OFFICE BUILDING, WASHINGTON D.C.

A
eolus was flipping through the detailed backup sheets of the daily alert from Geneva when his phone beeped. It was a message forwarded by Walt. It read: “ALERT – PHILADELPHIA – NEW CASE CONFIRMED.” Aeolus instantly grabbed his cane and headed to the War Room. Had he been the type of man who ran, he would have, but Aeolus never ran. Partly because of his strong aversion to any form of physical activity, but mostly because he didn’t think it was dignified. Grown men should not run, unless competing in a sport. Hank met him from the other end of the corridor, gasping to suck down enough oxygen to plug the deficit he had accumulated during the walk. They arrived at the room at the same time.

Richard was already setting up the video-link to the CDC headquarters.

“What do we have?” Hank asked as his team came on.

“A new case,” answered some staffer. “It’s at Pennsylvania Hospital, an Afro-American male in his mid-thirties. Came in about an hour ago. They don’t have the tests yet but from visual examination, the doctor says he’s almost certain. We agree. The patient has all the symptoms.”

“Is he quarantined?”

“Yes.”

“And the hospital?”

“The affected wards have been cordoned off.”

“Okay, good. What’s the patient’s story?”

“That’s the problem, sir. They don’t know.”

“What do you mean, they don’t know!?”

“He doesn’t speak English, sir.”

“So get an interpreter!”

Hank was breathing harder. The veins on his forehead were clearly visible.

“Unfortunately, it seems to be a bit more complicated than that. No one knows what language he speaks. The staff interpreters have never heard it before. They think it African, but have no idea of the actual language.”

“I can’t believe this…” Hank exhaled.

Aeolus could follow Hank’s heart rate from the pulsation of the blood vessels around his temples.

“So we got a linguist from Penn State on the phone and the only thing he could say is that he thought the language might be Afro-asiatic in origin…”

“Great,” said Aeolus, “That’s just fantastic. So we’ve narrowed it down to 375, or so, languages. Of which, by
the way, only a very few have speakers outside the Horn of Africa.”

“…but we’re having trouble locating someone who can speak these languages. We’re working on it though. We think the State Department might have someone but that’s yet to be confirmed.”

“I highly doubt it,” Aeolus mumbled. No point in twisting the knife further. Hank was about to bleed out anyway.

“So what
do
we know?” asked Hank. “What’s his nationality? Does he have a passport or a driver’s license? Where did he come from?”

“Negative on the first two, sir. As to where he came from, a young white male dropped him off by car. He said he’d found him lying shivering in an alley.”

“Which alley? Where?” Hank demanded incredulously.

“We don’t know. The young man left the hospital after dropping off the patient, before they got a handle on things down there.”

Hank fell back in his chair and moaned, “Oh Lord…”

“How do you think that back-tracing plan of yours is looking right now?” Aeolus asked.

Hank sat immobile, overcome by consternation, as Aeolus summarized the situation for Richard.

“Here’s my guess. Given the language group and his skin color he’s most likely from Somalia, Ethiopia or Sudan. It doesn’t really matter. He came here with a promise of a great life, but was forced to work as a slave in one of the illegal sweatshops run by Nigerians. They took his passport. He fell ill. They didn’t want
attention drawn to their operation and killing him was a more of risk than just dropping him on the street. They figured he wouldn’t be able to tell his story to anyone before he died. Which means his language is so rare that State doesn’t have a speaker. The man will be dead, or at least so incapacitated that he can’t speak, well before we find an interpreter.”

“Sounds plausible enough. But how did he get into the country?” asked Richard. “We haven’t accepted flights from Africa for a week. Even if he came via another country, he wouldn’t have gotten in with a Somali passport.”

“That’s because he didn’t come during the last week. He’s been here a long time. He’s not the index patient. Someone else infected him, someone who is now walking around Philadelphia asymptomatic. If the person had symptoms I am sure we’d have heard about him, or her.

“Richard, the Maluku virus is now live in the United States.”

Hank, staring blankly ahead, moaned “This can’t be happening...”

“Shut up, Hank! You better pull yourself together, because it
is
happening. While you’ve lived with your monkey-friends in the fantasy that you were invincible, I’ve been preparing for this. I know what to do. You have only three things you need to do right. First, get me in front of the president, without the others. We have to get the president out of that maelstrom of madness that his committee presents. Second, make sure he listens to what I say. Third,
make sure you keep the monkeys out of it. I’ve rarely seen such an overwhelming display of inadequacy as from that Michener guy.”

“I’ll take care of the first part,” said Richard. “Hank, are you ready to go before the president in ten minutes?”

“I don’t know… A speaker of some obscure language? What are the odds?” Hank was in no shape to go before anyone. That much was clear.

Richard got the meeting as promised. Keeping the others out, however, had proven impossible and the members of the taskforce drizzled into the Oval Office as the meeting progressed.

Aeolus wasted no time. “Mr. President, pardon my blunt language, but this is it. The virus is here and it is not contained. I strongly urge you to immediately shut down all air traffic and interstates, and put as wide a quarantine around Philadelphia as possible.”

“Yes, obviously, we have to shut down the Philadelphia airport immediately. As for shutting down all interstate travel, isn’t that a bit premature, Dr. Hughes?”

“I think so, Mr. President,” said Michener, who had crept in. “I propose we quarantine the city, but leave it at that. If we get another case, they’re bound to speak English and we can backtrack and take it from there.”

“Yes, that sounds more reasonable to me. Hank?”

“I’m not sure Mr. President. I mean… Dr. Hughes has a point, but I also realize the political cost of
shutting down all airports.” Hank had not snapped out of it yet.

“Richard?”

“I’m with Dr. Hughes on this Mr. President. Fully. He’s been right every time so far, and if we’d listened to him earlier we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Hmm… Richard, you know I value your advice highly, but I’m going to go with the USAMRIID on this. It is, after all, what they’re here for.”

“That said,” continued the president, “I’m not wild about a total quarantine, even of Philadelphia. Essentially, we will be condemning completely healthy people to put their lives at risk through almost certain exposure. I’m not sure what part of the Constitution grants me the right to do that. We should offer them a chance to leave if we can.”

He turned to Aeolus.

“We have this test, right? Can’t we use it at roadblocks so there’s a chance for healthy people to get out?”

“The production has just started, Mr. President,” answered Aeolus. He knew where this was going and he didn’t like it. “As you know, we had a little hiccup with the manufacturers. Anyway, we don’t have the stocks required yet. The only ones who do are the Chinese. And I can assure you they’ll want to use it for Beijing.”

“Can’t you pull some strings? I mean, you are the UN general of this particular war, are you not?”

“Excuse me, Mr. President?”

“Dr. Hughes. Get me the tests we need. If you do, I’ll get you your quarantines.”

Aeolus swore under his breath, but realized he had no choice. Maybe Loo could work some magic somehow. “Mr. President, I will see what I can do.”

“Good. So how does this work?” continued the president.

“We get the local police and FBI to put a block around the inner city and the highways,” said the Secretary of Homeland Security. “Then we call out the Pennsylvania National Guard and have them cut off all the byroads leading out from the city. We work with multiple circles of enclosure. Start from the center and work our way out.”

“And then we call in the army to solidify things,” said the Secretary of Defense.

“That requires suspending
Posse Comitatus
, Mr. President,” responded the Secretary of Homeland Security, “and I would advise against that at this stage. That is a huge decision. The National Guard can handle it.”

“Obviously Fort Detrick should take point on this,” said Michener.

“No, not yet,” said the president. “You’ll just scare people with your spacesuits. This generation of parents still remembers
E.T.
, you know. The National Guard it is. And no press for as long as we can keep a lid on this. Anything else?”

“Yes, Mr. President, there is,” said the Head of the Secret Service. “We have a biological warfare agent on the loose in the country and it is not contained. Our protocols require us to move you an isolated bunker.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” asked the president.

“Our protocols are there to protect the republic and chain of command in the face of threat. In my opinion, it’s time to go to Bunker Two. In theory, you can countermand my recommendation, but traditionally presidents don’t, and those who have, have later regretted it.”

“Excuse me,” said Aeolus. “Hank often mentions the perils of panic, and I have so far disagreed with him, because the benefits have outweighed the costs. In this situation, however, I think there is a point to Hank’s fear of panic. The signal it would send to the people is that not even the president is safe in his own house; which they will surely realize when you are making national addresses not from the lawn or your office, but a bunker. People will start running. Everywhere. And you gain nothing. Given the anti-bio-warfare systems of this building, you’ll be just as safe here, or at worst in Bunker One downstairs. I urge you to stay.”

“You have a point, Dr. Hughes. But, I’ve made it a principle not to argue with the Secret Service,” said the president.

The president frowned, considering his options.