Reckless Creed (17 page)

FLORIDA PANHANDLE

C
reed didn't like that Colonel Benjamin Platt had insisted on accompanying the first samples. Then he saw the relief on Dr. Avelyn's face. He didn't realize that having the director of an infectious-disease-control facility—namely one of the top ones in the country, maybe the world—could be a tremendous advantage. As long as the colonel didn't think he could order everyone else around.

Yes, perhaps Creed had a chip on his shoulder like Jason when it came to military officers. Top brass always seemed to come in expecting to make life-and-death decisions after never being in the field or on the ground. Creed wouldn't allow Platt to do that with his staff and his dogs.

But that wasn't the sole cause of the rift between Creed and Colonel Platt. Of course it gnawed on Creed that this guy seemed to hold a piece of Maggie O'Dell's heart, enough so that she didn't feel free to move on. Creed didn't know exactly what the relationship was between Platt and Maggie, but he knew he had to back off. And that was exactly what he'd done since North Carolina. A
part of him hated that Platt had the upper hand with Maggie. He certainly wouldn't give him the upper hand here at his own facility.

“Roger Bix with the CDC is continuing to get more samples,” Platt told Creed and Dr. Avelyn.

“Does every sample have the patient information we need?” Creed asked.

Platt pulled out a sheaf of papers with grid lines, what Creed suspected was an impressive spreadsheet, hopefully with all the information he had asked for.

“We have the basics on everyone as far as age, gender, and ethnicity. Some were too sick to divulge past medical history. Those who shared about smoking and alcohol use are noted, as well as any current medical conditions. I believe one has diabetes. Another is a breast cancer survivor.”

“How recent?” Creed wanted to know.

Platt stared at him for a second or two, and Creed thought it looked like the colonel was trying to decide if Creed was simply busting his chops or if having that additional knowledge was necessary. Then he started flipping through the other papers before finding something.

“She did share that,” he said, reading the form. “She's been cancer-free for five years.” Then he looked up at Creed to see if that was good news or bad.

“We'll make a note on her sample. If we use a couple of my dogs that are already trained in detecting cancer, we'll need to make sure they're alerting to only the virus.”

“But she's been cancer-free for five years,” Platt said.

“I'd feel better if it was seven.”

“You're saying that your dogs might be able to detect if her
cancer has returned when her oncologist obviously is saying she's cancer-free?”

Creed heard the challenge in Platt's voice, and with a glance at Dr. Avelyn to see her sudden discomfort, he realized he wasn't just imagining it.

“Yes. Dogs have been known to detect certain cancers—breast, prostate, lung, ovarian—at an earlier stage than any current lab test is able to detect it.”

“Special breeds?”

Creed didn't have time for this. It didn't matter to him whether Platt believed him.

“No special breeds. And medical alert dogs don't usually have the stamina or endurance requirements that a search-and-rescue dog needs to have for working a disaster site. A lot of the successful tests have been done with a variety of mutts and purebreds from beagles and cocker spaniels to Yorkshire terriers. The most important factors are a good sniffer, high energy, and the urge to please.”

Platt stared at him again. Creed was about to thank him and send him on his way when Dr. Avelyn stepped between them.

“Why don't I show you around, Colonel Platt? We could use your help trying to figure out how to keep our staff and dogs from catching this virus while we work with it.”

They had set up a room in their training facility as a sterile environment in order to receive, store, and prepare the samples. The breath samples that Platt had brought were taken or released onto fiber cloths that were then placed in sealed plastic tubes.

Dr. Avelyn explained the setup process to Platt.

“We don't use glass tubes. Too many opportunities to break,” she told him.

The tubes, instead, were made of PVC with caps that could be screwed on and off at both ends. The sample was placed inside. When they were ready to present them to the dogs, they would replace one cap with a cheesecloth that allowed the dogs to sniff the scent inside. The PVC tubes would then be placed in a stainless steel workstation.

Dr. Avelyn showed Platt the metal box and explained that most of their boxes had nine circular holes deep enough for the tube to sit inside without being disturbed by the dogs. Only one of the nine tubes would hold the target odor. The other eight would contain control samples.

“That's one of the reasons we wanted as much information about the patients before we use their samples,” Dr. Avelyn said. “Whenever possible we try to match at least gender and age. We're successfully training dogs to detect
C. diff
, and early on we realized our control samples needed to be a close match at least in age.

“But here's my challenge,” she told Platt. “I can take care of the dog handlers with protective gear, to reduce their risks of catching this virus. But how do I protect the dogs?”

“We have no evidence that dogs can catch the bird flu.”

“You keep saying that,” Creed told him. “Saying it over and over doesn't make it true. Is there any evidence to prove they
cannot
catch it?”

“Look, I understand the concern,” Platt said, and he was addressing both of them as though this subject had already been discussed many times and he was impatiently telling them again. “I think we need to think of these dogs like we would military dogs.”

Creed couldn't believe Platt was using Wurth's poorly conceived argument. “We send those dogs out first into combat,” Platt said,
“and into minefields knowing the risk that they'll take a bullet for us, so to speak. This is really no different.”

Creed had to cross his arms and clench his jaw to keep quiet. He had already explained to Wurth and to Platt that this was
not
the same thing.

“I actually don't agree with that assessment, Colonel,” Dr. Avelyn said. “There's a major difference. Military dogs are not trained with live ammo or live explosives. In this case you're asking us to train these dogs in an environment where they need to learn by sniffing and possibly inhaling these samples into their respiratory systems. They are at extreme risk during their training.”

Platt shot Creed a look. And this was the same argument Creed had made. The man wasn't just frustrated and impatient but bordering on anger. Did he really think he might convince the veterinarian otherwise? Creed kept quiet.

“That's partly why Deputy Director Wurth suggested getting high-risk dogs from shelters,” Platt told Dr. Avelyn. “He's paying a premium price for these dogs.”

“That doesn't really matter,” she said in a calm voice that made Creed proud to have her on his side. “Whether these dogs would have been euthanized anyway is hardly the point. If any of the dogs are infected with the virus during training, they're worthless to all of us. Have you thought of that?”

She waited for him to grasp what she was saying, then continued, “If the dogs become infected they won't be able to go out and work in airports. They won't be able to go anywhere. They'll be too sick. And they also might be contagious.”

HARTSFIELD-JACKSON ATLANTA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
GEORGIA

O
'Dell waited for Platt or Wurth to return her phone calls. In the meantime she had her laptop out, searching for flights with available seats, not just for herself but for Rief as well. She was getting frustrated. The ticket agent had already told her the earliest flight from Atlanta to New York didn't leave until that night at 8:45
PM
unless she wanted to be on a standby list. O'Dell put herself on the list, then started searching on her own.

Omaha to New York was equally difficult. There was a flight that left at 5:05
PM
but with a connection in Chicago that would put Rief in New York later than O'Dell's 8:45
PM
nonstop flight from Atlanta. She was beginning to believe that neither of them would be able to meet this woman any sooner than midnight.

Her panic had kicked up a notch just as Charlie Wurth called.

She tried to move to an area with fewer people until she realized that no one was paying attention to her. They were all on their own cell phones, engaged in their own conversations. She told Wurth everything that Rief had shared, but she didn't stop there.

“Charlie, if you suspect that DARPA is somehow involved in this, you need to tell me now or I swear I'm calling Kunze and having him take me off this case.”

“Believe me, Maggie, if I knew that was a possibility I'd be back in D.C. and be up in Colonel Hess's business like he's never had anybody in his business. But here's the thing—Hess has actually been helping us.”

“How has he been helping?”

“He's sent a couple of his DARPA scientists to the CDC to assist with a possible vaccine.”

“What about Lawrence Tabor?”

“I have no idea who this Tabor guy is.”

“He works for DARPA,” O'Dell told him.

“So what if he does?”

That silenced her.

“Seriously,” Wurth said. “Look, Maggie, I understand Hess is like a raw nerve for you ever since North Carolina. But Dr. Shaw escaped with property that belonged to his research facility. I wouldn't be surprised if the man's going to be overly sensitive to this whole thing. She took a virus that she created while she was under his employment.

“Come on, Maggie, the guy's a war hero. A living legend. Under his direction, DARPA's research and technology has saved hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers' lives. If he's sending out his people to try to contain this outbreak, is that such a bad thing?”

“Without telling us. You're forgetting that part. And that's okay with you, Charlie?”

“No, it's not okay with me. I just have more important issues to take care of right now.”

“He's done it before,” she said. She parked her roller bag and sank into a seat at a boarding gate that was empty.

“Ben seems to trust the man.”

“Ben is blinded by this guy,” O'Dell told him. “He's some big important mentor and influence in his life. Hess took matters into his hands last time and almost got me killed, so forgive me if I don't trust the man.”

“You're forgetting something, O'Dell. Hess is on our side. He wants Dr. Clare Shaw caught and stopped just as much as we do.”

“I hope you're right, Charlie, because these watchers that Christina Lomax claims are following her around New York remind me an awful lot of Lawrence Tabor and the other henchmen that Hess is used to sending out.”

She could hear his deep sigh on the other end before he said, “Let me find some flights for you and Ms. Rief. I'll meet the two of you in New York. I'll see if I can get someone with the CDC to take care of Ms. Lomax.”

“Ben isn't coming with you?”

“He'd probably rather be with me, but he's working with your dogman.”

With all the emotions running their course, O'Dell wasn't sure how she felt about Benjamin Platt and Ryder Creed—the two men who confused her head as much as her heart—spending time together.

FLORIDA PANHANDLE

C
reed left Platt and Dr. Avelyn to figure out the details.

He saw that Penelope Clemence was early. She'd already pulled up in front of the kennels and was talking to Jason.

He and Jason had spent about an hour sectioning off a space for the new recruits, a special holding area. After hearing that Platt couldn't guarantee the risk this virus posed to the dogs, Creed realized that he would need to figure out a way to keep these dogs away from his for their entire training.

He and Jason had already set up separate crates for each in the back room. The crates would protect them from one another and duplicate the shelter environment that they were used to. Hopefully the extra planning would reduce their stress from being moved.

Penelope was grinning at Creed when he got to the vehicle. He glanced at the crates in the back of her Jeep Wrangler.

“I have a friend bringing the others,” she told him. “I could only fit three. She's bringing four more in her van.”

He nodded. The conversation with Platt had unnerved Creed. He kept telling himself that in seven years of eating, sleeping,
thinking dogs, he had never heard of any dog contracting the bird flu. But then the virus hadn't hit the United States until 2013. If there were any incidents of dogs being infected, they would have had to happen in China or other parts of Asia. He wondered if the Chinese would even care about reporting such a thing.

“This is a good thing you're doing,” Penelope said when she noticed his reticence.

“I hope so.” He didn't mean to sound so doubtful.

“You just saved seven dogs' lives. Actually, more than that.” And she smiled again. Her southern drawl made the words sing. “It was such a pleasure telling the Alpaloose folks that they could change their status to a no-kill shelter. I can't wait to hear how you managed that, Ryder.”

“I have another favor to ask, Penelope.”

“You name it, sweetie.” And she winked at Jason.

“I could sure use another dog handler. We only have three days to train these dogs and prepare them. It would be three tough days starting early tomorrow morning.”

“Well, I can certainly ask around and see if there're any handlers available.”

“Actually, I meant you.”

The smile faded in her surprise.

“Ryder, I don't have any experience doing what you guys do.”

“It's okay. I'll be walking everybody through it step by step. It helps if each dog has his or her own person, sometimes as much for moral support and confidence as for training.” When he saw her still hesitating, he added, “I can't think of anyone else who cares more about dogs and is able to interact with even the most difficult
and obstinate ones. If it doesn't work for your schedule, I certainly understand.”

“So I'd be stuck working alongside this guy, too?” She smiled again and swung her thumb at Jason.

“Unfortunately there is that drawback,” Creed said. He noticed the kid actually looked like he was enjoying the attention and ribbing. “Jason already has some expertise in this area.”

“I do?” he asked as he came around the vehicle ready with leashes.

“The
C. diff
training is pretty close to what we'll be doing.”

“Okay then,” Penelope said. “I'll give it my best.” Then she headed to the back of the Jeep. “Let me introduce you to your new recruits.”

First out was a yellow Lab, bright-eyed and excited but cautious.

“This is Winifred,” Penelope said. “I'm told she has an addiction to bread.”

“Regular bread?” Jason asked.

“Yep. Will do just about anything for a slice.”

“I don't usually use food as rewards, but I'm considering it for the health alert dogs. In other circumstances, especially cadaver searches, we can't have dogs eating what might be evidence.”

“Well, thank you for that picture. That's disgusting.”

“Sorry, but it's true. As much as we love them, dogs do love stinky stuff.”

Creed squatted down to pet Winifred, letting her sniff his hand first before touching her. He was pleased to see the dog's nose giving him a once-over. She was definitely a sniffer. That was a good sign.

Jason helped carry out the next dog, a black-and-white cocker spaniel.

“This is Tillie,” Penelope told him as she took a leash from Jason and put it on. The dog didn't flinch at having something put around her neck.

“She sure is pretty,” Creed said as he reached his hand over to her, but she was more interested in sniffing Jason.

“The last one I have with me is named Dooley.”

“As in Tom Dooley?”

Creed stood to look inside the last crate.

“He's a little shy at first,” Penelope said.

That wasn't a good quality. Creed opened the door to the crate and let the dog come to him. Dooley had the blue-and-white coat of an Australian cattle dog. His left eye and left ear were solid brown. That ear stood up, the other flopped. Because of the lopsided markings, Creed thought he looked like he was hanging his head to one side. But then the dog started to wag. His tail tap-tapped the back of the crate.

Cattle dogs could be tougher to train. It was instinctive for them to herd, not just cattle but other dogs. Creed had rescued a Border collie, a hit-and-run left for dead on the side of Highway 98. After Dr. Avelyn repaired her crushed pelvis, Hannah nursed the dog back to health and named her Lady. The dog was smart and wanted to please, but she was more interested in rounding up the other dogs and sometimes even people. She failed miserably as a scent detection dog but made a great companion for Hannah's two boys.

He hoped that wouldn't be the case with Dooley.

Creed looked up at Penelope. “It's a start. You did good.” Then to Jason he said, “Let's get these dogs settled. Get them fed.”

Jason took all three leashes and led the dogs with a confident stride. By the time he got to the back door of the kennel all three dogs were looking to him for direction and guidance.

“He's come a long way,” Penelope said when Jason was out of earshot.

“Yes, he has.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren't you using any of your own dogs for this assignment? Seems with such a tight deadline you'd want to work with dogs that were already experienced in scent detection than starting from scratch.”

“I made a deal with Homeland Security to train a certain number of dogs each year. These three and the four that your friend brings will be the first in that program.”

“That's how you're able to pay for Alpaloose to convert to a no-kill? The government's paying for it?”

He met her eyes trying to judge if she approved or would be offended. Finally she nodded and smiled.

“There's another reason,” Creed said. He figured she deserved to know. “They can't tell me whether dogs can contract this virus.”

The smile disappeared. Her eyes left his and she looked off toward the kennels. He caught a glimpse of her emotion. She crossed her arms over her chest and then she simply nodded again.