Mason had then traveled to New Orleans and recruited Lionel Johnson from Tulane University, where Johnson was doing research on resistant strains of tuberculosis that had showed up following the recent AIDS epidemic. Unlike Jakes, who tested Mason’s patience daily, Johnson’s shy manner and sly, understated sense of humor made him a joy to be around.
His next trip was to Maryland and Fort Detrick, the home of USAMRIID, the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases. He’d heard of Dr. Shirley Cole, who had a PhD in Microbiology and whose research on disease-causing bacteria was the talk of the CDC. He was initially concerned about taking on a middle-aged woman who was not in the best physical condition, but in time he’d found his fears to be unjustified. She’d fit right in with the group from the very first day. Her acceptance by the group was helped along by her wizardry with baked goods.
Shirley had told Mason he had to see if he could recruit Suzanne Elliot, an RN with a master’s degree in epidemiology who’d traveled all over the world tracking a number of elusive causative factors in the spread of disease in a dozen different countries. Shirley and Suzanne had crossed paths on a joint army and United Nations task force fighting a cholera outbreak in Haiti, and Shirley had been very impressed with the nurse.
When Mason approached her, he found a medium height, about five-foot-five-inch-tall woman who was slim and strong but not masculine. Suzanne was in fact entirely average, neither pretty nor ugly, and dressed rather blandly, as if not wanting to draw attention to herself. When Mason explained the reason for his visit, she was more than happy to join the team and work once again with her old friend, Shirley Cole.
The last member of the team to be recruited was Joel Schumacher, a computer specialist who was in charge of the CDC’s Special Pathogens database, which contained information on all previous outbreaks of infectious diseases and plagues, as well as the locations of all “hot zones” where dangerous organisms were known to be endemic. He was a top man in computer science analysis in medical applications and had developed several of his own programs so highly specialized that no one else could understand them, but he could make them sing. He was of average height and slightly dumpy, the picture of a typical geeky nerd, and very Jewish, wearing a yarmulke at all times. He liked to joke that he would gladly join the team since the frequent travel would enable him to escape the women his mother was continually trying to set him up with, who were usually daughters of friends of hers. Early on the other team members began to tease him about still being a virgin, which made his ears and cheeks blaze crimson, but he maintained he was saving his virtue for just the right woman.
Mason felt a welling of pride in his chest as he observed his team getting ready to deploy, knowing he had the best and brightest in the world who could face whatever horrors the jungles of Mexico were about to throw at them.
As the group took their chairs around the conference table, all of the muffins and most of the coffee having been consumed, Mason stood at the head of the table with his arms crossed on his chest as he addressed them.
“I know you’re all wondering just what I’m about to get us into with this middle-of-the-night expedition, but I have to admit, I don’t know just yet.”
When they all started to protest at one time, he held up his hands. “Wait a minute, and I’ll tell you what I know and maybe together we can figure out what we’re going to be going up against.”
Sam Jakes raised his hand and asked irritably, “Why don’t you first tell us where this latest hot zone is located?”
“In the jungle just south and west of Mexico City,” Mason answered.
“Oh shit!” Jakes exclaimed. “Don’t tell me we’re gonna be traveling all the way to Mexico to treat some travelers who’ve developed Montezuma’s revenge and need the experts from the CDC to come cure their diarrhea?”
Mason laughed. “You may be closer to the truth than you think, Sam. This may in fact be Montezuma’s revenge, but the disease we’re gonna be facing is a little bit more serious than diarrhea.”
Shirley piped up, “Diarrhea can be pretty serious, Mason, especially if it’s caused by cholera or bacterial dysentery.”
Mason again held up his hands for quiet. “Okay, guys, why don’t you listen while I tell you a story?” He paused until he had everyone’s attention. “There once was a group of thirty professors and students from the University of Texas who traveled down to Mexico to find and excavate the ancient tomb of Emperor Montezuma in a tiny, remote village named Tlateloco.”
Jakes smirked, spread his arms, and glanced around at the group. “See, I told you…”
Mason’s face became serious. “Now, according to what I’ve been told, all thirty of the group and an unknown number of Mexican laborers are dead.”
The team became quiet, all eyes on Mason. “How’d they die, Mason?” Suzanne asked.
“The symptoms sound like hemorrhagic fever and shock, exact cause unknown.”
“Bullshit!” Jakes said, slapping his hand down on the table. “It can’t be hemorrhagic fever ’cause there are no known human pathogens that cause this particular constellation of symptoms extant in the Western Hemisphere.”
Suzanne Elliot frowned and glared at Jakes. “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up, Sam, and let Mason tell the story before you get your panties all in a twist?”
“Why… you…” Jakes sputtered, his face flaming red.
“That’s a good idea, Suzanne,” Mason intervened before the argument could get out of hand. He sat down at the table and leaned back in his chair. “Here is what I’ve been told…”
He went on to relate the early morning phone call from Julio Cardenez and his subsequent discussion with Eduardo Matos, head of the Mexican Archaeology Society. He explained how Professor Charles Adams had called one of his colleagues in Texas and told her about the deaths and how he had described the symptoms exhibited prior to dying.
Lionel shook his head, his eyes worried. “So, all of this information, including the descriptions of the symptoms, is not only thirdhand information, but it is coming from nonmedical personnel… archaeologists?” he asked in his soft voice.
Mason nodded. “That’s right, Lionel. But even though the symptoms are described by nondocs, they are spot on for hemorrhagic fever and shock, and in follow-up phone calls none of the students or teachers are answering their cells.”
“Well,” Suzanne said, looking around the table. “Regardless of the possible cause, if there are thirty deaths, then we are certainly looking at a hot zone of some sort.”
“Mason,” Shirley Cole said. “I’ve been thinking about what Sam said. There is a pathogen extant in Mexico that could cause symptoms similar to those of hemorrhagic fever — anthrax.”
“Oh Jesus,” Jakes said. “Even a virologist knows that woolsorter’s disease, which is the only form of anthrax that is airborne, has never been shown to be transmitted from person to person.” He shook his head at her. “In addition, hemorrhagic shock is only caused by viruses, not bacteria. So unless you think that thirty different people could somehow have simultaneously inhaled enough anthrax spores to all go into shock at the same time and each and every one die from the disease when the normal death rate is only four or five percent, then I doubt that our pathogen can be anthrax.”
Now it was Shirley’s face that turned red. “I didn’t say that, you arrogant asshole,” she stated firmly. “I know anthrax doesn’t cause hemorrhagic shock, but it does cause extensive internal hemorrhage and major bleeding into lymph nodes of the lungs and stomach, so the hemorrhagic symptoms could simply be caused by coughing and vomiting up blood. Nonmedical observers would be hard-pressed to tell the difference.”