Amazonia (38 page)
"Skull and crossbones," Zane muttered.
Death lay ahead.
3:40 P.M.
"Now that was quite entertaining," Louis said to his lieutenant, lowering his binoculars. "When that caiman exploded..." He shook his head. "Resourceful."
Earlier that morning, radioed by his mole, Louis had learned of the Rangers' plan to camp near the far shore until reinforcements could be flown in. He imagined the loss of three more men would cement Captain Waxman's
plan. The group was now down to four Rangers. No threat. Louis's team could take the other at any time--and Louis didn't want those odds changed.
plan. The group was now down to four Rangers. No threat. Louis's team could take the other at any time--and Louis didn't want those odds changed.
He turned to Jacques. "We'll let them rest until midnight, then rouse the little sleepyheads and get them running forward. Who knows what other dangers they'll prepare us for?" Louis pointed to the swamp.
"Yes, sir. I'll have my team suited up and ready by nightfall. We're draining several lanterns now to collect enough kerosene."
"Good." Louis turned his back on the swamp. "Once the others are on the run, we'll follow behind you in the canoes."
"Yes, sir, but..." Jacques bit his lower lip and stared out at the swamp.
Louis patted his lieutenant on the shoulder. "Fear not. If there had been any other beasties lurking in the swamp, they would've attacked the Rangers. You should be safe." But Louis could understand his lieutenant's concern. Louis would not be the one using scuba gear to cross the swamp on motorized sleds, with nothing between him and the denizens of the swamp except a wet suit. Even with the night-vision lamps, it would be a dark and murky crossing.
But Jacques nodded. He would do as ordered.
Louis crossed back into the jungle, heading to the camp. Like his lieutenant, many others were on edge, the tension thick. They all had seen the remains of the Ranger back in the woods. The soldier looked like he had been eaten alive, down to the bone, eyes gone. A scattering of locusts had still crawled around the site, but most of the swarm had dispersed. Alerted by his mole, Louis had carefully kept burners of
tok-tok
powder smoldering as they crossed through the forest this morning, just in case. Luckily Tshui had been able to harvest enough dried liana vines to produce the protective powder.
tok-tok
powder smoldering as they crossed through the forest this morning, just in case. Luckily Tshui had been able to harvest enough dried liana vines to produce the protective powder.
Despite the threats, Louis's plan was proceeding smoothly. He was not so vain as to think his group moved unseen, but so far the Ban-ali were concentrating all their resources on the foremost group, the Rangers.
Still, Louis could not count on this particular advantage lasting much longer, especially once they entered the heart of the secretive tribe's territory. And he was not alone in these thoughts. Earlier, three mercenaries from his party had attempted to sneak off and flee, abandoning their obligations, fearful of what lay ahead. The cowards had been caught, of course, and Tshui had made an example of them.
Louis reached their temporary jungle campsite. He found his mistress, Tshui, kneeling by his tent. Across the way, strung spread-eagle between various trees, was the AWOL trio. Louis averted his eyes. There was surely artistry to Tshui's work, but Louis had only so strong a stomach.
She glanced up at his approach. She was cleaning her tools in a bowl of water.
Louis grinned at her. She stood, all legs and sinewy muscle. He took her under his arm and guided her toward their tent.
As Tshui ducked past the flap, she growled deep in her chest and, impatient, tugged his hand to draw him into the dark heat of the tent.
For the moment, it seemed rest would have to wait.
ThirteenShadows
AUGUST 15, 3:23
P.M.
INSTAR INSTITUTE
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
Lauren knocked on Dr. Alvisio's office door. Earlier this morning, the epidemiologist had requested, rather urgently, a moment with her. But this was the first chance she'd had to break away and meet with him.
Instead, she had spent the entire morning and afternoon in video conference with Dr. Xavier Reynolds and his team at Large Scale Biological Labs in Vacaville, California. The prion protein they had discovered could be the first clue to solving this disease, a contagion that had claimed over sixty lives so far with another several hundred sick. Lauren had arranged for her former student's data to be cross-referenced and double-checked by fourteen other labs. As she waited for confirmation, she had time to meet with the epidemiologist.
The door opened. The young Stanford doctor looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. A bit of dark stubble shadowed his cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot. "Dr. O'Brien. Thank you for coming." He ushered her into the room.
Lauren had never been in his office, so she was surprised to see a whole array of computer equipment lining
one entire wall. Otherwise, the room was rather Spartan: a cluttered desk, an overflowing bookcase, a few chairs. The only personal touch was a lone Stanford Cardinals banner hanging on the far wall. But Lauren's eye was drawn back to the computer bank. The monitors were full of graphs and flowing numbers.
one entire wall. Otherwise, the room was rather Spartan: a cluttered desk, an overflowing bookcase, a few chairs. The only personal touch was a lone Stanford Cardinals banner hanging on the far wall. But Lauren's eye was drawn back to the computer bank. The monitors were full of graphs and flowing numbers.
"What was so urgent, Hank?" she asked him.
He waved her to the computers. "I need you to see this." His voice was grim.
She nodded and took the seat he offered before one of the monitors.
"Do you remember when I told you about the possible signature spike of basophils early in the disease process? How this clinical finding might be a way to detect and specify cases more quickly?"
She nodded, but since hearing his theory, she had already begun to doubt it. Jessie's basophils had spiked, but the child was recovering very well. There had even been talk of letting her out of the hospital ward as soon as tomorrow. This rise in basophils could be something that occurs with many different fevers and is not specific to this disease.
She opened her mouth to say just that, but Dr. Alvisio interrupted, turning to his computer keyboard. He typed rapidly. "It took me a full twenty-four hours to gather data from around the entire country, specifically searching for fever cases in children and the elderly with characteristic basophil spikes. I wanted to run a model for the disease using this new criteria."
On the monitor, a map of the United States appeared in yellow with each state mapped out in black lines. Small pinpoints of red dotted the map, most clustered in Florida and other southern states. "Here is the old data. Each area of red indicates current documented cases of the contagion."
Lauren slipped on her reading glasses and leaned closer.
"But using the basophil spike as the marker for designating cases, here is a truer picture of the disease's present status in the United States." The epidemiologist hit a keystroke. The map bloomed brighter with red dots. Florida was almost a solid red, as were Georgia and Alabama. Other states, empty before, now were speckled with red spots.
Hank turned to her. "As you can see, the number of cases skyrockets. Many of these patients are in unquarantined wards due to the fact that the trio of signs designated by the CDC have not shown up yet. They're exposing others."
Despite her doubts, Lauren felt a sick churn in her belly. Even if Dr. Alvisio was wrong about the basophils, he had made a good point. Early detection was critical. Until then, all feverish children or elderly should be quarantined immediately, even if they weren't in hot zones like Florida and Georgia. "I see what you're saying," she said. "We should contact the CDC and have them establish nationwide quarantine policies."
Hank nodded. "But that's not all." He turned back to his computer and typed. "Based on this new basophil data, I ran an extrapolation model. Here is what the disease picture will look like in two weeks." He pressed the
ENTER
key.
ENTER
key.
The entire southern half of the country went red.
Lauren sat back in shock.
"And in another month." Hank struck the
ENTER
key a second time.
ENTER
key a second time.
The red mottling spread to consume almost the entire lower forty-eight states.
Hank glanced at her. "We have to do something to stop this. Every day is critical."
Lauren stared at the bloodstained screen, her mouth dry, her eyes wide. Her only consolation was that Dr. Alvisio's basis for this model was probably overly grim.
She doubted the basophil spike was truly an early marker for the disease. Still, the warning here was important. Every day
was
critical.
She doubted the basophil spike was truly an early marker for the disease. Still, the warning here was important. Every day
was
critical.
Her pager vibrated on her hip, reminding her that the war against this disease had to be fought with every resource. She glanced down to her pager's screen. It was Marshall. He had followed his numeric code with a 911. Something urgent.
"Can I use your phone?" she asked.
"Of course."
She stood and crossed to his desk. Hank returned to his computers and statistical models. She dialed the number. The phone was answered in half a ring.
"Lauren..."
"What is it, Marshall?"
His words were rushed, full of fear. "It's Jessie. I'm at the hospital."
Lauren clutched the phone tighter. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Her temperature is up again." His voice cracked. "Higher than it's ever been. And three other children have been admitted. Fevers, all of them."
"Wh...what are you saying?" she stammered, but she knew the answer to her own question.
Her husband remained silent.
"I'll be right there," she finally said, dropping the phone and scrabbling to replace it in its cradle.
Hank turned to her, noticing her reaction. "Dr. O'Brien?"
Lauren could not speak.
Jessie...the basophil spike...the other children
. Dear God, the disease was here!
Jessie...the basophil spike...the other children
. Dear God, the disease was here!
Lauren stared glassily at the monitor with the map of the United States mottled entirely in red. The epidemiologist's theory was not a mistake. It wasn't overly pessimistic.
"Is everything all right?" Hank asked softly.
Lauren slowly shook her head, eyes fixed on the screen.
One month
.
.
5:23 P.M.
AMAZON JUNGLE
Kelly sat hunched with her brother, both flanking Olin Pasternak. The Russian computer expert was screwing down the cover piece to reassemble the satellite communication system. He had been working on it all afternoon, trying to raise the States.
"This had better work," he mumbled. "I've torn it down to the mother-board and built it back up. If this doesn't work, I don't know what else to try."
Frank nodded. "Fire it up."
Olin checked the connections one final time, adjusted the satellite dish, then returned his attention to the laptop computer. He switched on the solar power, and after a short wait, the operating system booted up and the screen hummed to life.
"We've got a connection to the HERMES satellite!" Olin said, and sighed with relief.
A cheer went up around Kelly. The entire camp, except for the pair of Rangers on guard by the swamp, was gathered around Olin and his communication equipment.
"Can you get an uplink established?" Waxman asked.
"Keep your fingers crossed," Olin said. He began tapping at the keyboard.
Kelly found herself holding her breath. They needed to reach someone Stateside. Reinforcements were certainly needed here. But more important to her, Kelly couldn't stand not knowing Jessie's status. She had to find a way to get back to her.
"Here we go." Olin struck a final sequence of keys.
The familiar connection countdown began.
The familiar connection countdown began.
Richard Zane mumbled behind her. "Please, please work..."
His prayer was in all their hearts.
The countdown blipped to zero. The computer screen froze for an interminably long second, then a picture of Kelly's mother and father appeared. The pair looked shocked and relieved.
"Thank God!" her father said. "We've been trying to reach you for the past hour."
Olin moved aside for Frank. "Computer problems," her brother said, "among many others."
Kelly leaned in. She could not wait a moment longer. "How's Jessie?"
Her mother's face answered the question. Her eyes fidgeted, and she paused before speaking. "She's...she's doing fine, dear."
The image on the screen fritzed as if the computer had become a lie detector. Static and snow ate away the picture. Her mother's next words became garbled. "Lead on a cure...prion disease...sending data as we speak..."
Her father spoke, but the interference grew worse. They seemed unaware that their message was corrupted. "...helicopter on its way...Brazilian army..."
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