Silent Strike

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Silent Strike Page 13

by Francis Bandettini


  The publicity CoolSolar received at Burning Man led to invitations to provide cooling services to other festivals. Electric Zoo NYC, KABOO Del Mar, and the Austin City Limits Music Festival were next on the company's calendar. But the High Life Music Festival, Bonnaroo, Lightning in a Bottle, Symbiosis, Wasteland Weekend, and dozens of other events would not happen until next year.

  "Thanks to the excellent work our two pathogens are doing, next year these festivals won't happen,” Nikolas pronounced in a comment to Roya. “They'll be canceled on account of terror! Cool Solar will complete its mission long before next spring. Let's sign the agreements to participate anyway."

  CoolSolar also won a contract to set up their mist machines in the concessions areas for five NASCAR races remaining in the year. The firm booked booths at more than a dozen state fairs in September. The political season was in full swing. CoolSolar set up mist systems at many rallies for a few hotly contested Senate and House of Representative seats. Each event was a target, and the brain-eating amoeba Balamuthia mandrillaris would be the weapon. Democrat, Republican, Green Party, or unaffiliated, Nikolas didn't care. He just wanted victims—lots of them. The kinds of statistics that would be punctuated by the grave basso profoundo voices of newscasters on the evening news.

  Cool Solar and Nikolas's other businesses were taking off. To the average businessperson, it would've been easy to envision years of profits. But all Nikolas Antoniou wanted was a few months of terror.

  • • •

  The popular new sandwich chain, Little Italy, had just been touted as one of the top up-and-coming American food franchises by the Wall Street Journal. The concept was a brainstorm of two twenty-something sisters in Dallas. They started a single sandwich shop with the slogan, "The savory way to eat right." It quickly gained a loyal following. That's when the business consultants started calling. More than a dozen franchising gurus were competing to help the sisters expand their business. And, four years after the sisters opened their first sandwich shop, they offered franchise rights to entrepreneurs all around the United States. But, the franchise rights had just one buyer. Almost overnight, Little Italy sandwich shops began springing up throughout the United States. A private equity firm, secretly controlled by Nikolas Antoniou, opened Little Italy shops in all 50 states. Thanks to his connections in the Shiite world, he never lacked funding for such crucial, target-rich ventures.

  Every day, the lunch rush would fill 6,100 locations secretly controlled by Nikolas. According to the latest reports from the accountants, the shops fed more than a million people each day. As of today, none of these eager patrons would notice that their condiments were now tainted with an extremely virulent form of the bacteria Campylobacter jejuni. A light mist cooled the few hundred Little Italy locations that offered al fresco dining. The spray included Balamuthia mandrillaris amoebas. A person who wanted mustard, catsup, mayonnaise or other condiments would swallow a generous weaponized dose.

  Because Nikolas's scientists manipulated this Campylobacter jejuni strain, the risks of contracting a dangerous infection were hair-raising. In a laboratory in Turkey, a team consisting of geneticists and microbiologists weaponized this common pathogen. First by transforming the outer coating of the bacteria to make it more virulent. But, their second step was the real stroke of evil genius. They carefully manipulated the DNA to create the most potent outer coating molecules—the antigens the human immune system would attack. These deadly super bacteria would severely wound America. The tiny bacterial assailants would trigger an aggressive immune response—so aggressive it would turn the infidels' own immune systems against their nervous systems. When these Campylobacter jejuni germs infected victims, their bodies would launch a cascade of antibodies to respond and kill the threat. Unfortunately, billions of nerve cells would end up collateral damage in this biological war, when the antibodies would also attack neurons in the brain and spine. The ultimate result of this nerve damage was a disease called Guillain-Barre syndrome. Yes, America's health system was prepared to handle a few thousand cases of Guillain-Barre per year. It did so every year. But, American hospitals were not ready to handle millions of patients, most of whom would need ventilators to keep them alive through the most crucial weeks of the disease.

  Much of that from a sandwich shop that started out as the savory way to eat right.

  • • •

  In outdoor shopping malls across America, cooling misters, built and maintained by CoolSolar, started popping up. Restaurants, zoos, amusement parks, and athletic arenas also hired the firm. Every day more than three million people chose to walk by a mist machine to catch a refreshing breeze. The cooling mist system CoolSolar set up along a stretch of the Hollywood Boulevard sidewalk was ostensibly a demonstration and good PR. The mist reached tens of thousands of people per day. Roya had mixed the amoeba and the bacteria together for the Californians. These people, who lived the epitome of the Great Satan lifestyle, deserved the opportunity to play host to both diseases.

  The Baltimore Orioles were one of the hottest teams in baseball, so CoolSolar gladly cooled their fans as they entered and exited Camden Yards. Philadelphia tourists visiting the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall had the option of walking under misters to cool off. Walkers along Boston's freedom trail encountered two different amoeba-dispensing misters.

  • • •

  One of Nikolas's new companies had recently purchased three indoor water parks. The first one was in New Jersey, about twenty miles outside of New York City. The second was in Orange County, California, and the third was in a suburb of Dallas, Texas. During the two weeks leading up to Labor Day weekend, Nikolas's biologists reduced the chlorine content in the water that circulated through the pools and water slides to just two parts per million. Then they added billions of Balamuthia mandrillaris amoebas, which were hardy. The marketing departments advertised a special—daily admission was only $10 per family.

  People came in droves. If visitors didn't want to cool off in the pools and water slides, they had the option of walking by mist machines set up by CoolSolar. If they got hungry, the water parks were offering special four-dollar Little Italy sandwiches. On Labor Day weekend these amusement parks were jam-packed. The water parks entertained more than 40,000 visitors. But, the season never ended for these indoor water parks. So, they would continue to introduce thousands of people per day to billions of lethal amoebas.

  • • •

  Little Italy sandwich shops considered it a great honor. The sandwich shops received an invitation to provide catering services to 120 special events for wounded and disabled United States servicemen and women around the country. Nikolas felt so honored; he offered the food for free. How ironic that secret Iranian money would fund the demise of so many who fought in Islamic countries. Little Italy would lose millions in the deal. But Nikolas would have the privilege of infecting tens of thousands of souls with savory sandwiches. "Whatever you need," Nikolas commented with enthusiasm when he committed to catering the events.

  • • •

  The late summer heat was their perfect backdrop for a silent attack. People walking along the Las Vegas strip loved the new mist machines. With temperatures consistently soaring well above 100 degrees, they would walk by the hotels and restaurants courteous enough to impart a merciful mist of water onto Sin City's vacationers. Today, technicians at CoolSolar would begin performing routine maintenance on dozens of misting systems within the city. During this fine-tuning, the technicians would attach a water bypass line to introduce fluid from a new source—an amoeba tainted one.

  • • •

  On the first day of the silent attack, the Benevolent Iranian Student League had more than 300 radicalized Muslim students in place working in the food-service industry throughout the United States. Some of the most accomplished students were working as prep cooks and chefs in hotels, making ready for large banquets. This sleeper cell was now active, and it quietly served Campylobacter jejuni-tainted food to hundreds of thou
sands of convention-goers each week. Of course, their employers, some of the most respected names in the hotel world, had no idea what was happening. In many cases, these employees had built up trust over two or three years.

  The Benevolent Iranian Student League helped more than 300 radicalized Muslim students come to the United States to study by day and work in food services at night. Their handlers taught them everything they needed to know to help customs officials, employers, and neighbors find favor with these less-than-benevolent men and women. One of the rules participants had to swear to before they left their homelands for America was to keep secrets, at the peril of their lives. The second rule was to start working nights and weekends in the foodservice industry. They were rewarded financially if they eventually secured a job as a cook in a large hotel, convention center, or sports arena.

  The Benevolent Iranian Student League started five years ago. Nikolas hired a man from Iran to start and operate this not-for-profit organization—sort of his own little American bonyad. Director Alireza Pour-Mohammadi funded the association immediately. Within ninety days, the first students—and future combatants—entered the United States under the pretext of education. Thanks to scholarships and travel stipends Nikolas provided, they could get here. By design, they had to work to pay for living expenses. Many of them started working in fast food. But, their diligence paid off, and they were able to apply for and get new jobs in kitchens that would serve large banquets and sporting events.

  There were still some who worked in the ranks of fast food. They too would serve up Campylobacter jejuni to the infidels. But, it would be harder. In fast food, there was always a manager, supervisor, or coworker close by. In contrast, large banquet kitchens were busy producing huge, uniform meals. A member of the Benevolent Iranian Student League could easily taint ingredients hours before they were mixed, folded, kneaded, or whipped into the courses of a delightful meal.

  • • •

  Hookah vapor smoking's popularity was on the decline. Nikolas saw the downward trend in the market research his minions gathered. But, he could not overlook how effective hookah would be at infecting people with the amoeba Balamuthia mandrillaris. Nikolas's biologists estimated infection rates would reach eighty percent or better in people who inhaled infested hookah vapor.

  Nikolas started a new company and hired a team to set up hookah lounges in fifteen cities. They often chose sites near universities, because it was popular among the college crowd. One of Nikolas's businesses analysts pointed out how these lounges would also tend to attract Muslims. "Acceptable collateral damage," Nikolas had to admit. "Most of them will be Sunnis anyway." Then he admonished them. "Never hesitate to offer specials on LivingSocial or anyplace else you can promote our unique brand of Hookah."

  • • •

  Back in 2011 food trucks were emerging as one of the next big business crazes. Nikolas loved the trend, but not because the businesses performed well. Food trucks were another means of distributing bacteria and amoebas to thousands of people each day.

  Nikolas was not interested in owning or operating food trucks. He was interested in making tainted products flow through the food trucks. So, he got the word out. Nikolas was involved in being an angel investor for food trucks. He started a small lending company to provide seed money for entrepreneurs who were starting their food trucks. He also steered the new truck owners toward a food supplier and distributor he owned. The quality of the food they supplied was excellent, and the prices and payment terms were surprisingly favorable. As of today, many of the foods and condiments would contain the weaponized Campylobacter jejuni bacteria.

  He was currently financing hundreds of operating food trucks all over the country. Today alone, he estimated these little kitchens on wheels would expose more than 100,000 people to Campylobacter jejuni. Over the next thirty to sixty days, the food trucks would infect millions.

  • • •

  CoolSolar loved advertising with blimps at sporting events. They signed contracts to fly over college football games and participate in the celebration. When the home team ran onto the field, the blimp dropped confetti on the audience. When the home team scored a touchdown, again the confetti tumbled. These unique confetti were laced with microscopic dust. While the dust was too small for the human eye or nose to detect, the microparticles were the perfect size to house a potent colony of Campylobacter jejuni bacteria. It only took two or three particles landing in a drink or inhaled into the mouth of a cheering fan. A few days after the game, the fan would likely blame their raging stomachache on the stadium food. The confetti would never cross their mind.

  • • •

  Between football tailgating parties, marathons, triathlons, trade shows, parades, festivals, concerts, political rallies, and protests, Nikolas's businesses were reaching and infecting millions of people. But, he suspected tens of millions of his infections would cripple Americans with fear and overwhelm doctors' offices and hospitals. Many would be sick, but everyone would be terror-struck.

  CHAPTER 16

  Chicago, Illinois

  Allie Stoker was making great time in today's half marathon. As the event snaked through the streets of Chicago, she took drinks of water and electrolyte-replacing sports drinks. Hundreds of volunteers provided the beverages along the trail. Passing mile marker six, she pushed herself even harder. Her goal for this race was simple—improve on last year’s time. Within a few short minutes, she would reach the half-way point. Her body now screamed for calories. The sugar was her lifeblood as the miles clicked on.

  • • •

  It was almost too simple. Nikolas ordered the strike, and Roya carried it out. With the offer of double pay, Hotel Esatto recruited a team of employees to volunteer at the half marathon event for three hours on a Saturday morning. Roya asked marathon officials to assign her team to drink stations. Handing out tainted drinks to the runners along the path of the race was an effective way to spread the weaponized Campylobacter jejuni bacteria and continue the attack. Twenty Hotel Esatto employees were assigned to take care of four separate drink stops along the race route.

  The volunteers performed basic tasks. They mixed up large pitchers of sports drink, poured the pitchers into cups, and kept a table filled with dozens of cups at any given moment. For ninety minutes they regularly prepared new batches of the sugary beverages. If nobody was looking, Roya included a small squirt of Campylobacter jejuni-infested water into the batch. She was able to contaminate most batches. Roya estimated more than 5,000 participants drank the bacteria, at least once.

  As the last runners of the day passed by, she wondered how many other triathlons, marathons, and half marathons she could staff with volunteers over the next ninety days.

  • • •

  At mile marker nine, Allie reached for a cup of sports drink. She didn't notice the color, but the taste was citrus. As the seventy-eight-degree liquid passed down her throat and into her stomach, billions of Campylobacter jejuni bacteria entered her gastrointestinal system. Implanting themselves within her intestines, they set up shop and multiplied.

  By the time Allie Stoker reached the last mile of her race, a colony of Campylobacter had reached critical mass in her blood. Her immune system was starting to rally and counterattack the bacterial onslaught.

  When she finished the race, she rested briefly. Then she took a deep drink of a blue-colored sports drink and cooled down with a stretch. Dangerous bacteria were now invading her body, and she had no idea. Her immune system was producing antibodies with vigor. The battle against the Campylobacter jejuni bacteria was on—a clash the antibodies would win in the next five or six days. But, between now and then, she would experience a few days of upset stomach and cramps in her abdomen.

  Subsequently, in a few weeks, Allie Stoker would most likely feel the effects of her immune system's attack on Campylobacter jejuni on her nervous system. And the symptoms would be long, debilitating, and miserable.

  • • •

  The C
oolSolar team was in Southern California, planting the seeds of infectious terror at KAABOO Del Mar. The perfect weather made the misters unnecessary. But, a generous sponsorship allowed CoolSolar to run the water stations and contaminate the water.

  Nikolas got a little creative for this event in California. Sure, Little Italy sandwich shops were there serving up apocalyptic disease. But, he was feeling the bloodlust. He wanted to do more damage—create more terror. So, Nikolas found out who two of the other food vendors would be. Then, he made generous offers to purchase the companies. The company owners enthusiastically accepted the proposals, and the bonyad financed the deal with equal zeal. Nikolas insisted on his newly acquired food service vendors preparing and serving food with condiments he supplied. Virtually every meal served at KAABOO Del Mar contained high Campylobacter jejuni bacterial counts.

  CHAPTER 17

  San Antonio, Texas

  When Stoker's cell phone rang at five o'clock in the morning, it brought Stoker out of a deep sleep. His most recent slumbers had occurred in a tent in the Mexican desert and in the hospital in Chihuahua. Opening one eye, he frowned and reached for his phone. Somebody was interrupting the last thirty minutes of his prized night of comfortable sleep. In a gruff voice, he answered. "This better be my wife or parents. And, it better be urgent."

  "Sorry, Dr. Stoker." It was the lab director at Brooke Army Medical Center. "What I've got to tell you is worth waking up for."

  "You have results in less than four days?" Stoker asked.

  "We do. That's the reason this call is urgent. Something strange is going on with your bacteria. Get over here right away. You're not going to believe what you see."

 

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