Read The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga Online
Authors: Marcus Richardson
"Yes," said the General in a faraway voice.
His eyes stared across the lab at nothing.
"Just like ten years ago…"
Brenda nodded again.
"That's what scares me, sir.
The NKors used The Pandemic strain."
She sighed again and threw her paper on the desk.
"The bug that damn near wiped out all of us!"
The General peered at the glowing, blue-green face of the enemy.
"We know they've modified the genetic structure of this thing.
Have you been able to identify how and where?"
Brenda ran a hand through her hair again.
"Sir, this is
way
outside my field of expertise."
"You’ve said that.
I understand, Major—now answer the question."
Brenda took a deep breath.
"If you look here," she tapped a few keys on her keyboard and pointed at the screen.
"This image displays the genetic sequence from the original virus of the Great Pandemic, overlaid with what we’re dealing with today."
She tapped a few more keys.
"Just for reference, I've overlaid the genetic sequence from the samples we've attained from South Carolina and Kentucky over both.
See that?" she asked as she pointed to the brightly-colored genetic markers.
She tapped a key and the overlay disappeared.
She tapped it again and it reappeared.
"They triggered that gene sequence."
"That's right," she said.
She folded her arms across her chest and hugged herself, suddenly cold.
"By doing that, they left this third sequence left open.
The only way to make the virus lose its lethality.
Unfortunately, as you can see here," she tapped the key again and the overlay of the mutated virus reappeared, "the virus decided it wanted a workaround.
It activated this dormant gene here and a new sequence starts…” she pointed at the screen,
“
there.
From this point on, the genome changes.
It's the same virus, but it's different now.
More lethal."
"That’s no drift, Major.
It looks more like a complete shift to me."
"I’m in no position to confirm this, sir.
We need experts…”
“Try,” said the General.
Brenda took a breath and nodded.
“Yes, sir.
The reports I have indicate that the fatality rates have gone from approximately 2% to 10%."
"And the infection rates?"
Brenda shook her head.
"They've increased even more—anyone who had been previously exposed to The Pandemic had a pretty good chance of survival.
We really only had to worry about people with underlying conditions.
Now…”
She shrugged.
“This new drifted strain of the weaponized flu has a 10% fatality rate–even among people who survived The Pandemic.
Granted, we don't have the full picture yet,” she said and pointed at the closest monitor, "but look at this sample from South Carolina—there’s a hotspot around Charleston that’s approaching a 15% fatality rate.”
“Jesus.
Even among those who survived The Pandemic?” asked General Daniels.
“Yes, sir.”
She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest again.
“Among that small population who has no immunity at all—who were
never
exposed to The Pandemic—it’s much worse.”
She tapped the screen and a graph appeared.
Daniels whistled.
“Is this accurate?”
She nodded.
"Unfortunately, yes.
You can see by that spike there.”
“Children 10 and under?”
“Yes, sir.
They’re the largest group of people alive today with no exposure to The Pandemic strain.
Infection rates are approaching 85%.
Fatality rates are in the 25% to 45% range.
I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but getting sick ten years ago is turning out to be a real blessing.”
It was the General’s turn to frown and cross his arms.
"Your sample is too small.
But anecdotally, it's there—I can feel it.
This thing is changing and it's infecting and killing more people as a result."
Brenda sighed.
"That about sums it up, sir.
I wish I had better news."
"Major, you've done outstanding work.
I’ll have your research assistants here within the hour.
I've scoured the personnel files of everybody we have on this base and I've discovered somebody who slipped through the cracks at USAMRIID.
He took a voluntary demotion to stay there during the last reorg.
Chuck Digen.
He's not a full-fledged virologist, but he’ll be able to help you out better than anyone else we have on hand, I think."
"Good!
I'll be happy to turn this mess over to him."
Daniels shook his head.
"It's not that simple, Major.
Digen should be a light colonel by now, but he's only a captain.”
General Daniels raised a hand.
“You'll remain in overall command of this facility."
Brenda put a hand to her face and rubbed her aching temples.
"So I've got a dropout captain assigned under me who probably knows ten times more about this stuff that I do and should outrank me?”
Daniels smiled ruefully.
"That about sums it up, Major.
Welcome to command."
He turned to leave and opened his mouth to speak when a light flashed on the desk and a woman's voice announced over the intercom, "
Major Alston?"
Brenda slapped the intercom without thinking to get approval from Daniels first.
"Alston here, go ahead.”
"General Daniels said he was coming to check in on you.
Is he there?"
Brenda backed away from the desk as the General reached forward to hit the button on his own.
"This is Daniels," he said.
"General, you have an incoming transmission.
It's tagged as T1-3."
Daniels looked at Brenda and picked up the integrated receiver.
"Go ahead and patch it through to this terminal.
Authorization Zulu-Victor-Alpha-957."
Brenda stood and watched Daniels for a moment.
He listened to the message on the phone and his face softened.
A smile formed on his lips.
What the hell kind of phone call gets marked as T1-3?
Brenda figured it had to be something of importance to national security.
General Daniels was head of the Army's medical research branch.
He wouldn't be receiving reports from the front lines.
That was for the mainline Army staff.
The most pressing medical situations currently active—tactically speaking—were the rescue attempts of Mr. Huntley and Dr. Boatner.
Brenda's heart begin to race.
Oh God, please let it be good news.
After an interminable wait, Daniels smiled, mumbled his thanks into the receiver, and hung up.
He stared at the computer monitor displaying the image of the enemy and his smile broadened.
"You know what that message was?"
Brenda looked at the General then down at the desk.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry…she mostly wanted him to just say something already.
"That was a coded transmission from your boyfriend," Daniels said.
He turned and flashed a knowing smile at her.
Brenda could feel the heat rise in her cheeks.
It didn't matter.
Cooper had survived the mission—at least long enough to send a coded transmission to the new head of the Army's medical research division.
Daniels would not have been smiling had the mission failed.
"They got Boatner?"
Brenda said breathlessly.
She had to force herself not to ask about Cooper.
"They did indeed.
I'm sure Lt. Braaten’s official report will have a little more detail than
‘it was hairy as a goat’s ass
’, but yes, they successfully retrieved Dr. Boatner.
They’re on their way back as we speak."
Brenda closed her eyes with relief.
She wanted to collapse in the nearest chair and hug the General at the same time.
"Have a seat before you faint, Major," said Daniels, the smile evident in his voice.
"The news gets even better."
He leaned over and activated Brenda's terminal for satellite uplink mode.
"Dr. Boatner was able to salvage most of his research and the SEALs transmitted that data.
The satellite had to wait for its second pass to be able to transmit down to us, but it should start arriving…"
The terminal beeped, the screen flashed and a dialog box appeared, asking if a connection to the satellite uplink was to be allowed.
Brenda tapped the screen and the terminal beeped to itself again and began downloading gigabytes of data.
The focused stream of information gathered speed as the satellite passed high overhead in its orbit.
"…right about now, it seems."
Daniels leaned over the terminal and looked at the packet size as files began to appear in the secure download box.
This looks like it's going to take a while."
He glanced at her.
"Go get some rack time, Major.
I’ll man the fort until your assistants arrive and the data uplink is complete."
Brenda picked up the now lukewarm coffee the General had first offered her.
She downed it into three gulps.
"Not necessary, sir.
I’ll start processing the data now and get right to it."
Daniels nodded and made his way to the exit.
Brenda opened the first document and poured over the notes Dr. Boatner had created on viral nucleobase markers.
The lab notes were dated two weeks before the start of the mass infection.
He'd been given a heads up, Brenda realized quickly.
How is it possible that anyone even knew the bio-weapon had been deployed that early?
There had only been a few cases of infection on the west coast...
Brenda turned in her chair and saw Daniels staring at her from the door.
"Of course," he said guardedly, "you understand anything that you read or see in those files is classified at the highest levels and does not… I repeat, does not
ever
leave this room.
Is that understood, Major?"
Brenda shuddered at the thought of what they would do to her if any of the information leaked.
"Crystal clear, sir."
Brenda felt a headache coming on.
"Good," Daniels said.
He flashed a smile again, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Brenda suddenly felt uncomfortable under his gaze before he turned to leave.
"By the way," the General Daniels said over his shoulder halfway through the door.
"Your boyfriend's fine."
The door shut behind him with a soft hiss and the magnetic locks sealed her in with a series of
snap-bangs
.
She closed her eyes, said a quick prayer of thanks, and tried to steady her hands on the desk.
Brenda smiled as she opened her eyes and began to dig through the morbid notes and documentation from Dr. Boatner.
Soon enough, she realized that the virus was more dangerous than anyone had ever expected.
Her smile faded when she saw another document appear.
It was nothing more than a message, dated only hours earlier.
Boatner indicated he was going to dump all the data into a packet and deliver it to Denver, while keeping a physical copy on him.
It also reported in a physician’s clinically detached manner that two of the SEALs were showing symptoms of infection.
Brenda sat back in her chair and stared at the screen.
Would Cooper have admitted in that coded message that he was infected?
Her mind raced, grasping at facts, in a panic to convince herself Cooper was okay.
Daniels said he was fine.
Cooper had told her himself that he’d been exposed and had been gravely ill during the Great Pandemic.
She closed her eyes.
Get a hold of yourself.
He's got at least a 50-50 shot of being immune.
The drifted variant hasn’t been reported in Boston yet.
It doesn't mean that he's sick.
He told you—what was the name of that little guy—Mike, he’s the one who had never been exposed…remember?
She stared at the message again.
“
…two SEALs presenting possible infection…recommend full Level 4 containment procedures upon arrival
…”