Degeneration (7 page)

“Not good, sir,” Col. Mathis said. He passed Gen. Falton and Lt. Gen.
Yates
each a sealed red folder. The folders were imprinted with ‘TOP SECRET – PROJECT ‘PT-12’ – HIGHLY SENSITIVE’.

Gen. Falton and Lt. Gen.
Yates
broke the seal on their folders and started reading while Col. Mathis spoke.

“As you can see, ‘
PT-12
’
is an ex
tremely virulent mutation of four different crossbred
neuroinvasive
disease agents
.
It is classified in the program as a social destabilization agent. It
attacks the respiratory and neurological systems simultaneously and clinical death occurs five to ten hou
rs after airborne exposure or
around
fort
y-five minutes after bodily fluid and bite exposures. As far as we know, the disease is not vector-borne. After initial infection, rather bite-borne or airborne, flu-like symptoms show within the first fifteen minutes as the immune system goes into immediate overdrive. After initial clinical death, things get considerably worse.”

Col. Mathis pulled out a glossy photograph from his dossier and handed it to Gen. Falton.

“This is one of the first test subjects,” Col. Mathis explained. “The photograph was taken after the test subject was pronounced clinically dead. Prior to his death, the subject was lethargic, docile, and delusional with fever. He eventually fell into cardiac arrest. We did not
resuscitate
and allowed the subject to die. Approximately five minutes later, the subject reanimated. That is when the photograph was taken.”

Gen. Falton stared at the image of a young man wearing an army hospital smock. The words ‘TOP SECRET – TEST SUBJECT ADAM’ were stamped across the top of the photograph.

“Dear God,” Gen. Falton muttered.

The man was chained against the wall. Blood ran freely from his ears, dribbled out of his nose, and clouded his eyes. He was facing the cameraman with an expression of feral rage.

Gen. Falton hurriedly passed the photo over to Lt. Gen.
Yates
.

Lt. Gen.
Yates
stared at the photograph, unwavering in his expression.

“Prior to reanimation, the infected subject is contagious and unknowingly spreads the virus much like a common cold. Subjects in the beginning stages will experience severe coughing, sneezing, and shortness of breath. Mania and fever-induced delusions have also been reported shortly before the subject dies.

“The reanimated subject’s behavior,” Col. Mathis continued, “is extremely hostile and focused on creating new hosts. They actively seek out new hosts. The subject will try to spread the infection by biting, vomiting, or most often a combination of both.

“The reanimated subject will remain active in its search for new hosts for up to five days. After that, the infected host starts to shut down as the ‘PT-12’ virus follows its genetically engineered self-degeneration program.”

“
Thank you, Colonel,” Gen.
Falton said, shaking his head.
He laid the red folder on the desk and sighed. “It’s one of our germs, right?”

“Correct,” Col. Mathis said.

“So we have the antivirus in cold storage?” Gen. Falton asked.

“Yes, sir, the Atlanta storage facility has active vials of the antivirus,” he paused, thinking. “I recall that they had an issue with it during the annual audit, though, but I can’t recall the exact nature. I glanced at the internal memorandum briefly a few weeks ago.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gen. Falton said, “As long as we still have the antivirus, we’re okay. I’ll contact the Atlanta facility later to get the details. What about the weapon itself? Do we have any active vials in storage?”

“No, sir,” Col. Mathis said. “They were all incinerated in the Fort Detrick incident.”

“Since we have an active antivirus on file, the weapon is still classified as viable,” Gen. Falton said. “I’ll shift production of ‘PT-12’ over to the Utah compound to get it back into our arsenal. Thank you for the report.”

“Yes, thank you, Colonel,” Lt. Gen.
Yates
said as he snapped his red folder shut. “Unfortunately, you didn’t offer anything that will help with our current helicopter problem. I suggest that we simply blow it out of the air. A cover story would be simple enough. We could make it look like a pilot error or even play the terrorist angle.”

Col. Mathis shook his head.

“Even then, it wouldn’t help us. The corpses would still be infectious and it would spread by means of first responders. We can’t risk it. If this gets out, we could be dealing with a pandemic within a month,” Col. Mathis said. “I think we need to isolate and look at vaccine distribution before things–”

Gen. Falton raised his hand and abruptly cut him off.

“Distribute the vaccine? Colonel, need I remind you that ‘PT-12’ is a multibillion dollar bioweapon? We are the only country with ‘PT-12’ in our arsenal. It would not be in the best interest of this government to show that we have a cure and defuse our weapon on the world stage, considering that it could prove invaluable in a future war. I’ve already spoken with the Joint Chiefs about this and they are all in agreement.”

“Sir, with all due respect, what else can we do? Wait it out?”

“I think that’s exactly what we should do,” Lt. Gen. Yates said. “Besides, we could never produce enough vaccine to inoculate the whole city before the helicopter crashes, so stop being naive.”

Gen. Falton and Col. Mathis looked over at him.

“You said,” Lt. Gen. Yates continued, “that those who become infected and reanimate survive for around five days before the virus starts to shut down, correct?”

             
“Yes, and?”

             
“You also said that the pilot will crash somewhere within the Raleigh area, correct?”

“Yes, what’s your point?” Col. Mathis pointedly asked.

“My
point
, Colonel, is that it could work to our advantage,” Lt. Gen. Yates replied
. He took a step forward, reached up, and ran his fingers through his whi
te push-broom mustache, thinking out loud
. “
Downtown streets are narrow, access is limited, and there are skyscrapers that can accommodate large numbers of people. If he’s going to inevitably crash in Raleigh, downtown would be the ideal place to round people up and confine them inside buildings.”

“
And how do you plan on making the pilot crash where we want
?”
Gen. F
alton said, doubtful.

Lt. Gen. Yates
cleared his throat,
folded his arms across his chest
,
and continued.

“
Either he lands willingly, or we’ll make him land. I can have men in Raleigh
within two hours. If we bite this thing early e
nough and get proper quarantine
established, we’ll have minimal
localized causalities. Before the helicopter lands, we can start evacuating downtown. Once he lands, we seal it off. We can force those who got stuck inside the quarantine
into buildings before
they turn, seal
the buildings,
let the infection run its course,
wait
till they die off
, and then go in and dispose of the corpses. It can be that simple.
All I need is your word,” Lt. Gen. Yates
said, posed and ready.

“I don’t like it,” Gen. Falton admitted, frowning. “I’d like to take care of this in an area with less population density. What about outside of downtown?”

“As a failsafe, FEMA could evacuate the rest of the city while we handle things downtown,” Lt. Gen. Yates said. “But the way I see it is simple. Either we control where he lands or we wait to see where he crashes and hope that we get there in time to make a perimeter and control the outbreak. All I am saying is that downtown’s layout would make things considerably easier from a logistics standpoint.”

“Or,” Col. Mathis added, “We could wait and see if he crashes on the outskirts of the city. Perhaps he’ll crash in a sparsely populated neighborhood.”

“But, once again, that is a situation we cannot control,” Lt. Gen. Yates said. “We would have to hope that we’d be the first responders in that situation.”

“Christ, you’re right,” Gen. Falton muttered. “All it would take is for one infected civilian to slip through the cracks…”

Lt. Gen. Yates
knew that in times
of national crisis, the powers-that-be looked kindly on those who solved
problems the cheapest and
fastest way possibl
e. He knew weaklings like Col.
Math
is and senile fools like Gen.
Falton would never be able to handle the
‘
PT-12
’ on their own
.
Fortunately, he
knew what had to
be done. In the end, solving the problem
would give him enough politi
cal leverage to move-up
and really get things done. He looked do
wn at the slouched Gen. Falton
and smiled.
Go ahead, you stupid old fool, let me clean up your mess and then have the honor of kicking you off of your pedestal.

“
Can’t we crash him where he is currently?” Gen. Falton reasoned.

Col. Mathis frowned and shook his head.

“Unfortunately, the residential area he is currently flying over has a very high population density. We’d never be able to control it.”

Gen. Falton looked up at Lt. Gen. Yates.

“
Go ahead with
your plan. At this point, I guess it is the only viable option. I want a full perimeter established around downtown and a secondary perimeter along the outside of the city just in case things go sideways
.
Nothing gets in or out Raleigh and every last person caught inside downtown when that helicopter lands must be placed under lock and key, no exceptions,” Gen. Falton said. “We cannot risk this getting out.”

“Yes, sir,” Lt. Gen. Yates said with a smirk.

“Colonel Mathis, I want the 161
st
to manage the downtown quarantine. I want you on the ground in downtown Raleigh immediately. We’ll label
it
as a biological terroris
t attack to
sooth the
media and cause enough panic to make our actions seem viable
.
Have the mainstream media spin the story however the national office sees fit. A
s far as the reanimates go,
however, I want a full media blackout,” Gen.
Falton
said.

“Yes, sir, but how
will
we sell any
local
repor
ts of the… reanimates?” Col.
Mathis quietly asked.

Lt. Gen. Yates
frowned and furrowed his brows.

“Colonel, nobody will see one,” Lt. Gen. Yates
shot back. “By the time th
e
infected start to turn
, they’ll be locked inside plastic-draped
building
s and hidden away from
the public eye.”

“I was addressing General
Falton,”
Col.
Mathis quickly repl
ied, dubious of Yates’ plan. “General, s
ir, how will we handle
the situation should it arise?”

Lt. Gen. Yates’
face flushed with ang
er, but before he could respond–

“
It’s downtown!
They have ghettos, right?”
Gen.
Falton snapped, looking sharply at Mathis
with his piercing blue eyes. “When
all hell breaks loose
downtown and you start shoving people into buildings
, blame
it on
the goddamn
minorities! Call it rioting or
looting! I don’t care what you
have to call it when we start rounding up civilians but don’t call it for what it is
!”

Pain rippled across his chest and sent his heart thumping wildly.

Gen.
Falton settled and loo
ked down at his trembling right hand while
his other hand massa
ged his chest. His heart slowed
and the sharp pain subsided.

“Another thing, Colonel Mathis
, I don’t want any reporters
near
where you’ll be
herding
people
and shoving them into buildings
. In fact, I don’t want a
single cameraman inside downtown
.
Understand me
?”

Col. Mathis slowly nodded with dread. He understood what the General just ordered him to do.