P rofessor Imran Sayed checked for traffic, and then he and Kate Braithwaite headed out of the hotel car park in Atlanta towards Clifton Highway and the Centers for Disease Control Headquarters.
‘God, it’s good to be away from the RID,’ Kate said, leaning her head against the headrest.
Imran nodded. ‘Yep. Even though I don’t agree with what we’re about to do, I think if I’d stayed around Colonel Wassenberg for much longer I’d have finished up decking him.’
‘You’d have to get in line. Where do they find people like that Imran? USAMRIID SAH!’ she growled, whacking herself on her forehead, mimicking the pimply-faced Captain Crawshaw to a tee.
Imran grinned. ‘You do that very well, Doctor Braithwaite,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you weren’t in the Army in a previous life?’
‘Sometimes I wonder about you, Imran,’ Kate replied with a grin. ‘For a talented scientist you come up with some very wacky theories!’
Imran grinned. ‘I had a call from Curtis last night, wishing us all the best. He said Halliwell wants us to come to lunch in the boardroom next week, and don’t plan on doing anything in the hot lab afterward – Halliwell’s apparently got a very good cellar.’
‘Paid for by pharmaceuticals that cost ten times what they’re worth,’ Kate replied cynically, thinking back to the image of Halliwell. Something about the man had ‘warning’ written all over it.
The pair fell into a relaxed silence, each wondering how they might best avoid a looming catastrophe over smallpox and Ebola.
‘I wonder how Maverick is,’ Kate said, as they drove up towards the Centers for Disease Control, the salmon and glass-walled Headquarters towering over an elegant Japanese garden at the entrance. ‘There are times when I look into those big sad eyes that I hope we fail on this one. Smallpox has never been able to infect the animal kingdom and I don’t think we should be giving it a helping hand, even if it might mean we get a vaccine out of it.’
Professor Sayed nodded as he produced his pass for the security guard. ‘Although,’ he said, as they drove towards the car park next to the new maximum containment laboratories where the chimpanzees were kept, ‘given what’s happened in the last 24 hours, God knows what Kadeer will be up to next. If we can get Variola major to jump species at least you and I might be able to develop an antiviral drug. If we do, it won’t be the first time our predecessors have helped us out.’
‘Maybe, but getting this virus to jump species is a very big “if”, let alone engineering a super virus with something like Ebola,’ Kate replied, reflecting on the utter futility of it all and humankind’s bent for self-destruction.
Building 18, the new $160 million laboratory complex at the Roy-bal Campus at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, had been partially built into the side of a hill that adjoined the old six-storey maximum containment lab. It was close to the underground command centre that would be used during any outbreak of infectious disease or bioterrorist attack on the United States.
Imran and Kate passed through the external security check and headed for the Level 4 laboratories where only a handful of people out of the Centers for Disease Control’s 9000 employees were trained and certified to work. Kate gave the guard at the desk a smile as they stopped at the final security point. In turn, they inserted their biometric smart cards and they each looked into the camera which photographed their irises. The iris was like a fingerprint but even more secure. The chances of two individuals having the same patterns were 1 in 10 ^ 78. That many zeros meant the patterns were about as close to unique as you could get. The light changed from red to green as the computer files matched Kate’s irises and Kate followed Imran through the security cubicle into the outer offices and equipment storage areas of one of the most secure laboratories in the world.
The new Level 4 complex at CDC had been constructed meticulously. To minimise cracking, the concrete had been wet-cured for a very long time and then a special coating of sealant had been applied so that the floors, walls and ceilings were absolutely airtight. Like the new construction at Halliwell, the entire complex of filters, plumbing, decontamination and breathing systems and their backup redundancies had been exhaustively tested for six months before the laboratories were certified as safe. The designing engineers had even located any of the systems that might need maintenance outside the hot zone. There was no room for error. Once a laboratory went hot with Ebola, smallpox, Lassa Fever, Marburg, Botulinum toxin or any of the other twenty or so deadly viruses and bacteria for which there was no known cure, maintenance engineers would not get near the place.
In her Level 3 cubicle, Kate stripped and put on a green surgical gown. She taped her latex gloves to the sleeves, put on some thin, green socks and plugged in some ear protection that would soften the harsh ‘rushing sound’ of the air that would continually cycle through her suit. She sat down on the bench and eased herself into her bright blue spacesuit. Then she stood up, closed the thick, clear plastic face shield which lock-sealed into place, plugged the air regulator into her suit and slung it over her shoulder. Kate shuffled out of her dressing cubicle towards the steel airlock door that was emblazoned with the four bright red concentric circles of the international biohazard symbol. Closing the door behind her, she moved through the decontamination shower room, then into another inner steel airlock where she found Imran waiting for her.
‘Your boots Ma’am!’ Imran handed her a pair of galoshes, smiling broadly behind the plastic of his faded blue suit. His voice was faint, even though she knew he was shouting in what was standard voice procedure for a hot lab. Kate smiled her thanks, put the rubber boots on and followed him through another air lock into the lethal laboratory.
A door at the far end of the lab opened and the animal keeper, Dr Richard Myers appeared. Even behind his face shield, Kate could see the grim look on his face.
‘I don’t like this one little bit, Imran,’ he yelled when he’d shuffled up to them.
‘Neither do I, Richard.’ The two were very old friends. ‘Are the chimpanzees ready for the trip to Halliwell?’
Richard Myers nodded. ‘And they’re not happy either!’ he answered sadly.
Kate and Imran prepared to unlock the vault where the stocks of smallpox were stored. A specially designed steel safe had been pre-positioned outside the vault. It would be the first time the smallpox stocks had ever been moved from the Centers for Disease Control. Imran had arranged for a heavy police escort and a truck that was very similar to the armoured trucks that banks used to transfer cash. Having an accident with smallpox didn’t bear thinking about.