Nadia frowned, about to deliver the bad news. “The severe form of the disease is more commonly known as Weil Syndrome. In up to 50 % of cases it causes complications such as renal or liver failure or cardiovascular problems. It is fatal.”
There was silence in the tent for several long moments. It was eventually broken by Nebrinski’s disembodied voice from Paris.
“The strain you are suffering from is extremely virulent but, based on Karen Weingarten’s progress, the doctors at John Hopkins are confident that, if treated in time, a full recovery can be expected.”
“Great,” Raine said eagerly. “I’ll start shipping the worst cases out now—”
“No.” Nebrinski snapped.
“What?” Raine asked, shocked. “These good people are dying here. We’ve waited this long to start the evac because you clowns insisted on knowing what you’re dealing with first. Well, now you know—”
“As I just said,” Nebrinski cut him off. “This strain of the virus is highly virulent, extremely infectious. As of yet the transmission technique has not been determined. In a small, contained population on a mountaintop it is easily treatable, but should it get into a larger population… Who knows where it could spread to, or how fast.”
King noticed those gathered around the sat-phone glancing worriedly at one another.
“We have a specialised team en-route to you from the U.S. as we speak,” Nebrinski explained. “Their mission is to contain the virus and to administer treatment to all expedition personnel. As the source of this new strain has not yet been determined, they have ordered that nothing and no-one leaves the mountaintop. That includes expedition personnel, no matter how critical their condition may get, and any artefacts or specimens you may have uncovered. Anything like that could well be the source.”
King felt a sudden surge of energy rush through him. “The Moon Mask,” he whispered.
“Due to the delicate nature of their work there, the medical team will be accompanied by American Special Forces personnel, under the directive of the U.N.”
They all knew what Nebrinski meant. The doctors were being accompanied by soldiers just in case the sick people got out of hand. They would rather shoot an infected person than allow them to reach civilisation. In truth, King couldn’t blame them. It was the right call.
His eyes flicked up to Raine. He didn’t know why, but something caught his attention, some shift in the man’s expression as Nebrinski mentioned U.S. Special Forces. His usual mischievous, irritating, take-nothing-seriously demeanour had been replaced by something else. Genuine concern. Even fear.
“As the closest country equipped to handle a medical emergency of this scale, and with UNESCO interests at heart, the United States will be taking the lead in this operation, under the authority of the United Nations Security Council and the World Health Organisation. Once Sarisariñama is secure, all expedition members will be transferred to a quarantined medical centre in the U.S. for treatment.”
“What about those of us who are not showing signs of infection?” Raine asked. King’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. The all-American-action-hero wanted to run away. But King suspected it wasn’t the virus he was running from.
Nebrinski seemed shocked by this question. “Not showing signs of infection?” he repeated. “That’s impossible.”
Nadia frowned. “Indeed not,” she protested. “The generally accepted method of transmission of Leptospirosis is through the ingestion of animal urine, normally through a contaminated water supply or a break in the skin. In fact, I find it far stranger that this virus could have infected such a large number of people in so short a space of time, than it is for two people to be unaffected.”
There was a notable pause and King detected the merest hint of a stammer before Nebrinski replied sharply. “As I said, this is a previously undiscovered, new strain of the virus which has been identified by some of the world’s leading experts at John Hopkins—”
“You’ll have to excuse my staff, Director,” McKinney cut in, shooting the Russian woman a warning glance despite her deteriorating strength. Apparently sucking up to the boss went beyond a life-and-death situation. “It has been a trying few hours.”
“I don’t doubt,” Nebrinski replied, his voice back to its previous calm. “Just be ready for the medical team’s arrival. They should be with you inside of three hours.”
King watched Raine’s face for any reaction. There was one, however subtle, but King couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Another flash of concern?
“I think I speak for all of us here,” McKinney finished, “when I say we’re very much looking forward to seeing them—”
All of a sudden, the Scott’s arm that was supporting her against the desk buckled. She folded forward, like a heavy sack of potatoes, and would have smashed painfully to the ground had Raine and King not both caught her.
Nadia hurried around from the other side of the desk to examine her. She was unconscious, a dead weight slumped between them. “Quickly!” she barked at the two men. “Get her to the mess tent!”
The three black and unmarked Harbin Z-9 helicopters roared across the canopy of trees. Their tear-drop shaped fuselages cast shadows across the treetops and gave the illusion of some swarm of giant insects homing in on the kill.
Indeed, with twin 23 mm cannons and TY-90 air-to-air missiles, each helicopter was more than equipped to handle any violent confrontation. That, however, was not the choppers’ occupants’ primary mission.
On board each helicopter were ten men kitted up in black NBCs. Often confused with the bright yellow or red hazmat suits worn by civilian services, the ‘Nuclear, Biological and Chemical’ suits were far more frightening. The black rubber totally encased the wearer and, unlike the large, transparent faceplates of their civilian cousins, the NBCs hoods and masks totally covered the head and face. Only the eyes were partially visible, protected by plasti-glass lenses which peered down the long snout of the breathing apparatus.
As the last of the choppers’ occupants donned their hoods, their leader’s voice came through their communication earpieces, blunt and simple.
“We are approaching the target. You have your orders.”
The cabin lights dimmed and were replaced by sultry red beacons which reflected off their black rubber-encased bodies, casting a hellish sheen. Indeed, as they grasped their assault rifles and prepared for the active stage of their mission to begin, they looked like an army unleashed from hell. Demonic.
The Demons of Sarisariñama had returned.
“This is insane!” Raine seethed as Nadia pulled the sheet up to cover Juliet McKinney’s head.
Despite trying to keep them at bay, a large crowd had gathered around the impromptu examination table that had once been a dining table.
“We could have saved her if we got her to a hospital,” Raine said angrily. Around him, those well enough to be on their feet circled the professor’s body, caught in various degrees of distress. While the hard-as-nails Scott had not endeared many to her, she was well respected and her loss would be felt both here and across the academic world.
But it was more than that, Raine knew, as he glanced at the stricken, tearful faces staring at him. Anyone could share McKinney’s fate. At any time.