The Genesis Plague

27

Studying the USAMRIID insignia on the BlackBerry’s display, Brooke positively recognized the three icons central to its design: a chromosome helix, a Petri culture dish and a five-pointed star. Such a unique image was easy to remember, and she was certain that this was the exact insignia embossed on the scientist’s report cover. ‘I don’t understand. How could the Infectious Disease guys have anything to do with the cave?’

Flaherty shook his head. ‘We’ve had bioweapons teams in Iraq since we first stepped foot there. Remember, Iraq supposedly had a huge cache of WMDs?’

She vividly remembered the Department of Defense’s elaborate slideshow on national television that included ominous, yet hazy, satellite images of Iraqi weapons facilities ready to churn out biological agents. In the context of it all, the mission statement listed on USAMRIID’s website made perfect sense: ‘To conduct basic and applied research on biological threats resulting in medical solutions to protect the warfighter.’

‘Maybe they found something in the cave, like a chemical weapons stash,’ he guessed.

‘I don’t remember anything like that.’ She keyed the agency name into Wikipedia and scrolled the entry. ‘Says here the agency began in the fifties at Fort Detrick, Maryland … biomedical defence … opened a state-of-the-art biocontainment facility in 1971 …’

‘The Crozier Building. That’s where they test and stockpile weaponized Ebola, anthrax and smallpox, among other things. You know, Cold War goodies.’

‘Nice.’ She kept reading. ‘What’s a BSL facility?’

‘Biosafety containment lab. I toured a BSL-4 mobile unit at one of our security conventions. Picture a tractor trailer with a state-of-the-art safe lab, a built-in airlock and Hazmat gear. I remember the guide saying they used them during the Gulf War.’ He considered this for a moment, then said, ‘Hey, any chance you saw something like that at the cave? Any guys wearing bio-suits?’

It didn’t take much thought before she replied, ‘No.’

The more Brooke read, the more the military’s biodefence division sounded like a biological bakery that specialized in the most unsavoury recipes. She wasn’t sure whether to praise or fear its existence. ‘Who runs this place?’

He pronounced the acronym USAMRIID phonetically: ‘You-sam-rid. It answers to the US Army Medical Research and Materiel Command. An army colonel oversees the operation.’

‘Not a scientist?’

‘Nope.’

‘Isn’t that a conflict of interest?’

He chuckled. ‘Most would argue that bioweapons are a matter of national security. But you go ahead and write your senator, Brooke.’

‘So why would an archaeologist have been talking to these people?’

‘Probably wasn’t an archaeologist, is my guess.’

‘Wait. If samples had been sent to this agency for testing, there’d be a record of it, right?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Can you call one of your people to check it out … to see if tests were performed on samples from Iraq during that time? Maybe we can figure out who ordered them and why.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ he said. ‘But first, I need to call my guy in Iraq … let him know what happened back at the museum.’

In the side mirror, Flaherty eyed the illuminated headlights of a Ford Explorer that had turned in behind him three blocks earlier. The SUV trailed at a comfortable distance, occasionally falling back two or three car lengths. Nothing to worry about … yet.

Flaherty pulled out his sat-com and put a call out to Jason.