Threnody (Book 1) (3 page)

Chapter 3

September 10, 2015

Natal, Rio Grande do Norte

Brazil

The meetings were the worst part of her job thought Dr. Lin San as she sat manipulating her pen, momentarily distracted from the boredom all around her. Being employed by a government-sponsored agency certainly meant plenty of meetings.  Thankfully those at the National Health Service in Brazil were not nearly as frequent as those her colleagues employed by comparable U.S. government agencies were forced to endure.  In Brazil, the bureaucracy and red tape was simply not as thick, and for that, she was thankful. 

The man addressing the group, whom Lin had not previously met, was Dr. Juan Periera, a senior military research liaison with the NHS Emerging Diseases branch.  He droned on about a recent incident involving one of the branch’s veterinary science teams.  Though Dr. San was not directly affiliated with this branch of the NHS, her participation on the NHS Incident and Safety Committee mandated her attendance at the meeting.  Apparently, the veterinary team had been sent to investigate multiple reports of unusual incidents near a rural village in a remote region of northern Brazil.  Several attacks by what sounded like diseased primates, possibly infected with a rabies-like sickness, were reported in the area over the week preceding the expedition. 

“All communication was lost with the group less than thirty-six hours into their mission,” Dr. Periera continued.  “We were in contact with the team during their ingress to the objective area, and our last communication with them occurred shortly after they reached their objective.  While our communications team here was able to triangulate their approximate position at the time of the last transmission, the remote location and impenetrable jungle canopy has made locating the team by air impossible. We have not yet been authorized to send in a ground S&R team.”

One of the more senior committee members raised a hand and asked, “Did the team give any information regarding the nature of these incidents, or those involved during the final communication, Dr. Periera?”

“The information relayed in the last communication was minimal, as it was preliminary to their full investigation.  It seems most probable that the incidents were due to attacks by sick primates, likely afflicted by a viral pathogen, though there was certainly more than one mention of maricoxi or mono grande by the natives.  If the media gets ahold of this before we sort it out, such rumors will be all over the headlines.  Here is the audio from the last communication with VS-1.”

BEGIN AUDIO:

“Dr. Pereira, this is VS-1 do you copy?” called the leader of the V.S. team.

“Pereira here, copy VS-1.  What’s the situation there? A bunch of ignorant, superstitious natives worked up about nothing?”

“Sir, I think we may be dealing with something more this time.  Our initial survey is just getting underway, but the grisly nature of some of the scenes coupled with the people's nearly uncontrollable panic makes it feel like there may be more at play.  I hope to have the final report of our investigation within the next twenty-four hours.  Thankfully, it seems as though all of the involved animals died within twenty-four to forty-eight hours of contact, and none of those attacked have shown any signs of infection.  Whatever pathogen is responsible may not be capable of interspecies transmission.  Maybe the speed of this thing will work to our advantage and it will burn itself out quickly like in the Ebola outbreaks.  There are, of course, some natives who feel the problem originates in the supernatural realm, but that is to be expected I suppose.  One particularly interesting report is that of a small metallic object apparently attached to a collar on one of the animals involved in the attacks.  The animal was killed by one of the locals, but he was afraid to remove the object or the collar.  He indicated he could take us to the animal. I am unsure of what this means.  Why would an animal in the middle of the jungle be wearing a collar at all?  I will relay updated information as soon as our investigation is complete.”

“Very well, VS-1.  Stay safe,” Dr. Pereira said.

:END AUDIO

The entire investigation, including travel time, was supposed to take three days round trip. The team was never heard from again.

Chapter 4

October 2, 2015

The droning engine noise and the sound of the propeller effortlessly slicing through the cool evening air threatened to lull Dr. John Wild to sleep as he approached his destination.  He was two hours into his flight home, cruising at 10,000 feet somewhere over Mississippi.  Sleep loomed closer still as the sun lazily drifted down beyond the distant horizon, casting a grayish hue over the monotonous landscape, as it dutifully continued its procession toward the inevitable embrace with the black cloak of darkness. Thankfully he had flown this route countless times before and could do it with his eyes closed, he mused.

John gazed down upon the countryside passing beneath him and saw only a single pair of headlights moving along the interstate below.  He was returning from a two week volunteer stint at a Native American Reservation a few states over.  He had done this each year for the last six years, having initially started doing it as a form of service as well as a way to honor his deceased father, who really embraced the Native American part of his heritage.  While John had truly grown to enjoy his time on the reservation, the pace of his work there over the last couple of weeks left him exhausted.  There was a full-time Native American healthcare provider on the reservation, but John sometimes felt like the people must save up all their problems for his arrival.

The relative societal isolation experienced on the reservation always came as a welcomed reprieve from the hassles and stresses of his typical day-to-day life.  This was particularly true this year, as the hysteria caused by the ongoing H5N1 flu scare caused a significant increase in patient encounters in the weeks prior to his trip.  On the reservation, there was no television in his apartment and his cellphone only received a reliable signal in the northeast corner of the property.  Incidentally, that happened to be the least populated area, and thus one to which John rarely ever ventured.  He was secretly grateful not to hear the television reporters spouting off the latest numbers in the ever-climbing yearly murder count – a staple of the nightly news.  Being able to tell his office that he would have minimal phone reception and limited access to e-mail always brought a satisfied smile to his face.  While the clinic did have internet access, he seldom connected his laptop, favoring to embrace the temporary technological respite rather than suffer the painfully slow dial-up connection.

Dr. John Wild was born to a fairly typical upper middle class American family.  His father, Benjamin Wild, was part Native American and a former Vietnam sniper.  After his time in the service, his father generally kept several jobs and frequently worked long hours while his mother tended to the business of raising John and his three sisters in Mountain View, California.  John learned his father was ascribed the nickname ‘Bingo’ during his military tenure but knew little more about his time in the service.

Ben Wild did not like to talk about his time as a sniper and did not take kindly to anyone referencing him by the old nickname anymore.  He was a hard-ass, and he always expected John to follow his rules to the letter.  While he never told John any of the specifics about his time in the military, Ben shared many insights, skills, and opinions that were certainly honed to a razor’s edge during that period of Ben’s life.

As a child, John was fairly mischievous and often managed to find his way into any trouble that happened to be around.  Despite his intermittent, albeit mild, scrapes with authority, he proved to be an exceptional student and ultimately attended Stanford University for undergraduate coursework.

For six months prior to his decision to pursue higher education at Stanford, John gave serious consideration to signing up for military duty as his father had done.  John admired the training and dedication of the military and law enforcement.  The few stories his father saw fit to share with him regarding his time in service made the job seem very exciting and attractive to his young mind.  The precision, efficiency, and valor of the well-trained soldiers in the stories reinforced his admittedly ‘Hollywood’ impression of military snipers.  Often, he would long for the escape from the daily grind, wishing he could trade it for the ‘one shot, one kill’ mission-above-all-else mentality he felt he could still see in the depths of his father’s eyes.  When other civilians reacted with horror to the latest military engagement in whatever ‘war of the week’ was raging, John secretly felt exhilarated and sometimes even envious of the soldiers he saw in the media.

The possibility of acting on that interest, however, came to a sudden crashing end when he went to a marine recruiting office early one summer morning.  John was immediately impressed by just how much his mindset clashed with that of the soldiers in the recruiting office.  It was like wearing a black suit with brown shoes.  They seemed so regimented and disciplined, but as they spoke, John could not tell if anything they said represented an original thought or if it was just regurgitated propaganda they were brainwashed with.  When they showed him a video of recruits in boot camp, he knew ‘actual’ military life could never match his ‘ideal’ view of military life.  He always felt he could excel in the military provided he was allowed to operate somewhat independently, in a manner that would allow him to be a ‘thinking’ soldier rather than one forced to simply followed orders unblinkingly.  This was how he envisioned the old snipers such as his father – true or not.  In his mind, they were free-thinking, somewhat autonomous entities who supported the greater military effort through their actions, but in that instant when he saw the reality of military life, he knew it could never happen for him.  He turned and walked out the door.  Directly across from the recruiting office he saw the front of Stanford University.  He started his undergraduate coursework there in the fall of that year.

Chapter 5

October 2, 2015

Natal, Rio Grande do Norte

Brazil

There was a knock at the door, and Lin doggedly looked up from her microscope to regard the sound.  The radio chattered in the background as the announcer rattled off the details of the most recent outbreaks of violence in Brazil.  Several individuals allegedly killed a group of people thought to be suffering from influenza and the associated encephalitis after reportedly being attacked by one of the sick.  Within hours the entire neighborhood was engulfed in full-scale rioting and a contingent from the military had been deployed to control the situation.  Lin sat in stunned silence absorbing the words of the broadcast as the knock came again, this time with a bit more force.  Having been in the middle of reviewing the latest set of histology slides from her current study, she found the interruption more than a little annoying.  With a sigh she stood and wearily crossed the room to the front of the lab.

Upon opening the door, she was surprised to see a very official-looking group of three men.  The lead man appeared to be a high-ranking military official, given all the pins and badges adorning his impeccable uniform.  The men flanking him, and standing a few steps behind, were among the most formidable individuals Lin could ever recall seeing.  Their facial features could not have been more severe had they been chiseled straight from granite. 
Where did they find uniforms large enough to cover their over-muscled torsos?
  Regardless of the fact that each of the men was clearly honed into a brutal weapon themselves, they each carried a very large and, to Lin, very intimidating, assault rifle.  Though she knew nothing about firearms, she had no doubt these two men were quite capable of handling the lethal weapons with deadly precision and doubted they possessed any qualms about doing so.

“Dr. Lin San?  I’m General Montes, Special Operations Brigade, Brazilian Army.  May we come in?” asked the General, as the three men moved past her into the laboratory without waiting for a reply.  Lin thought this certainly must be a hoax cooked up by some of her friends at the NHS and, accordingly, she struggled to suppress an amused smile.

“Dr. San, let me be frank with you. I’m here under direct orders from the President, with orders to ensure your safe and immediate evacuation to the United States.  You, no doubt, have many questions regarding my orders. I am authorized to answer any and all such questions to the extent my knowledge of the situation allows.  By presidential order, you have been granted unrestricted security clearance and, as such, I will gladly share all available information once we are safely en route.  There is a plane waiting at Natal Air Force Base and there is very little time before its scheduled departure.  Here is a one page brief outlining the basics behind the epidemic as we understand them,” said General Montes, as he handed Dr. San a single page document bearing the presidential seal as well as the word ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ stamped in crimson ink.  As her eyes wandered across the details of the page, all traces of her simmering smile faded with the realization that the General was not part of any ruse.

“The flu epidemic?” asked Dr. San.

The General continued with a small sigh. “We believe approximately three to four weeks ago a unique biologic crisis began in a remote part of northern Brazil.  The fact that it appears to have started in such an isolated area worked in our favor early on, but unfortunately, our initial efforts to curtail the spread of this ‘agent’ were unsuccessful.  There are rapidly increasing areas of outbreak throughout Brazil, the United States, and even a few European nations.  We are unclear exactly how this thing managed to jump the border, but the higher population density in the U.S. is presumably the reason the situation is worse there.  Until now, we knew very little about the exact nature of this epidemic, and what little we did know was kept secret from everyone except my high command and the president himself.  The damned flu epidemic has proven a good cover story for the bigger problem we are dealing with.  As you can see from the memo, two days ago we recovered a hard drive containing documentation we believe pertains to the plague. The data is complex and expansive, and quite frankly, we do not have the time or skilled minds necessary to interpret the information.  Your name is mentioned specifically in the documents and, accordingly, your knowledge and skills have been determined to be invaluable in sorting through the information. I must insist that you gather what things you need and come with us.  It is imperative that you do not discuss this evacuation order with anyone, as inciting further panic at this time could lead to catastrophic consequences here in Brazil.  Please, let me be clear that this is, without a doubt, a matter of life and death, perhaps for the entire human race.”

Knees weak and hands trembling, Lin stared at the document in her hands, unable to utter a single word despite the innumerable questions swirling through her mind.  After a moment she looked up from the paper and, for the first time, she saw the hollow, grim determination in the General’s eyes.  Swallowing hard, Lin said, “I understand, I’ll be just a moment.”

Motionless, the three men stood like marble statues as Lin vanished into her small office in the depths of her lab.  As she randomly gathered items from her desk, she knew that despite the General’s stern warning she needed to inform her lifelong confidant, John Wild, about what she had just been told.  He was the most intelligent person she had ever known, he resided in the U.S., and he was a trusted friend—perhaps her only true friend.

She picked up the telephone receiver on her desk but heard only a faint, distant clicking sound on the line.  Retrieving her cellphone, she was surprised to see the screen read, ‘Searching…’ All of a sudden it dawned on her that the fact neither her office phone nor cellular phone was working was unlikely to be merely coincidence.  She had always been able to get a signal in her office and, in fact, used the phone less than an hour ago in the very same spot.  It was then she noticed the cellphone of one of her lab technicians lying unattended on the desk where he had been working earlier.  Under the guise of gathering supplies, she made her way over to the phone and added it to her bag before vanishing back into her office.  She was both angered and relieved when she saw the phone’s screen indicating strong signal reception.  Frantically, she keyed in John’s number, hoping beyond hope that he would answer.  The phone rang and rang, and she felt her heart sag. Just as she was about to hang up, she heard a distant voice.  The static-filled connection made it tough to understand everything that was said, but she could tell it was John.  Lin took in a long, deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried in earnest to tell him everything she just learned.