“A Swede named Johan Hultin led an expedition to Brevig Mission, Alaska, in 1951, to dig up Eskimo graves. The infection had hit these communities particularly hard, killing approximately ninety percent of the adult population. As the Eskimos traditionally bury their dead in permafrost, close after death, these villages were ideal candidates for his recovery project.
“He found nothing, though. On a second expedition in 1997, he found samples in a woman’s lung tissue. This sample, together with others found in the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology archives, drenched in formaldehyde and stored in blocks of paraffin, allowed for a complete sequencing of the virus. The samples were all dead, though, so we haven’t been able to grow them. Now we know someone else found it. Found it. And grew it.”
He shook his head.
“Accidental releases of illnesses from laboratories are not as rare as you might think. Take smallpox. In its time, it was a terrible disease, killing around two million people a year, into the early 1950s. In 1959, the WHO launched an ambitious program to eradicate it. By 1977, we succeeded and smallpox was gone. It was the greatest medical achievement in modern history, if not all of history.
“But that’s not the end of the story. In 1978, two cases of smallpox were discovered in Britain, traced to a lab at the University of Birmingham’s Medical School. The researcher in charge committed suicide when it became evident that the virus had been released from their storage through one form of negligence or another.
“Following this, all stocks were destroyed and the only remaining samples are with the CDC in Atlanta and the Vector Institute in Russia. That’s why we’re very careful with these substances and don’t keep samples of deadly diseases in regular labs anymore. Apparently, someone didn’t get the memo.”
Aeolus called Hank. Midway through the explanation, Mandy announced she had an inbound call from a Boris Yevchenko.
“Yes Hank, we’re rounding up the usual suspects and starting with the Russians, but hang on. I just got Boris, I’ll keep you on the line but put you on mute,” said Aeolus.
“Fine,” said Hank,
“Dr. Yevchenko! You’re a hard man to track down.”
“Yes, Dr. Hughes, I tend to be. But I am glad to finally get the chance to talk to you. I am a great fan of yours. I am calling because I understand that you have now realized what I have known for forty-eight hours.”
“If you’ve known it for forty-eight hours, how come you didn’t tell us?”
“I had some investigations to conclude. Without them, this conversation would have been pointless.”
“Okay, so tell me. You have it, do you?”
“Yes, we do. In the mid-50s, inspired by your expeditions to Alaska, we managed, after several failed attempts, to find a body of a Dolgan buried in permafrost in the northern region of Krasnoyarsk, hundred miles or so north of Tunguska. The virus was perfectly preserved and we managed to grow it successfully.”
“You’ve had it for fifty years!? And you didn’t tell us? Do you know what value a discovery like that could have had for our research?”
“Yes, I do indeed, but you must understand that these were different times. The operation was run by our bio-warfare organization, not the civilian medical community. Making it public would have gone against our national interest, and after Glasnost the few of us who knew decided it was best to, how do you say, ‘let sleeping dogs lie’.”
“So, you studied it? You have a vaccine? Please tell me you have a vaccine.”
“Actually, we did not give it much study. Compared to the other projects such as smallpox, pneumonic plague and anthrax, it had limited potential as a biological weapon. It was not lethal enough, but more importantly it was impossible to control. It was too blunt a weapon. In the end, we wrote it off because we struggled with developing a vaccine and were convinced that even if we did, it could very well come back in a mutated strain to which we had no effective protection. It posed too much of a risk for the motherland, so we buried it, stopped our research and decided to keep it as a curiosity that could be used as a bargaining chip in exchange for research from other friendly nations.”
“Great. Not deadly enough? Why don’t you go down and tell that to the four thousand or so dead in the Maluku Islands? So you don’t have a vaccine or even any research we can use?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“But it came from your labs?”
“No, that was one of the items I felt compelled to investigate. Our only stock is at the ‘State Research Center of Virology and Biotechnology,’ which I believe you refer to as the ‘Vector Institute,’ here in Koltsovo in Novosibirsk. All samples are in a pressure-sealed room. The seal has not been broken. I have inspected it myself. It’s not from our labs.”
“Then how…?”
“As I said, we decided to use it to barter…”
“No!”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“The Chinese?”
“Yes. We traded it with the Chinese in the early 60s, when we, in the area of bio-warfare at least, were still friends.”
“So it’s from a Chinese lab.”
“No, it’s a bit more complicated than that. As far as I understand from the sources available to me, the following has happened. The scientist in China who led the research was a man named Hak-Man Choi. His ruthless methods, involving large-scale testing on, and virus growth within, human subjects became too much for the Chinese to stomach. Also, they, like us, realized the limited potential of the flu as a weapon. Hence, they decided to shut him down.”
“And then?”
“Then he disappeared. He left China and brought all the samples and research documents with him.”
“He fled from China? Where?”
“Unfortunately this is where my trail ends. Still…”
“… Hak-Man Choi is a Korean name,” Aeolus finished the sentence.
“Yes, Dr. Hughes. Great minds think alike after all.”
“So,” Aeolus said, “What you’re telling me that a real-life version of Dr. Strangelove defected to North Korea in the late 60s with live samples of the 1918 flu, to continue developing it as a biological warfare agent with the blessings of Kim Il-Sung? And the result of this scientific abomination has now been let loose upon the world?”
“That would be my guess, yes. And to make matters worse, he seems to have been successful in his efforts. I am not really sure how he did it. It must have taken a considerable measure of luck, given the methods available to him at the time. Well, luck for him… Not so much for us, obviously. I doubt even I could construct a more potent influenza today, in spite of the all the knowledge and technology we have today.”
“Yes, indeed,” Aeolus said hesitantly, not wild about admitting that he was not one hundred percent sure what Boris was getting at. “You’re referring to the gene shift in the second polymerase?” he probed.
“Well, there is that. But more importantly you have the increased density of arginine in the first hemagglutinin sequence. This is why the virus spreads so much more easily and causes more severe symptoms. Also, it helps to explain why it is virulent enough to be effective in different weather conditions and climates.”
“I’m not sure I follow you now,” said Aeolus, humbled by his own ignorance.
“We have done some research recently that shows that an increased concentration of positively charged amino acids in the receptor bindings significantly increases the chance of the virus attaching to cells. It is pretty groundbreaking stuff, actually.”
“You, as in the Vector Institute?”
“Yes.”
Aeolus held a deep resentment for the world’s closed military research departments, and their mere existence usually provoked intense anger. But in this instance his fury was tempered by his admiration for this man’s competence. It was rare for him to meet an equal in his field, or in this case, maybe even more than that.
Instead of bursting out, Aeolus sighed in resignation. “Dr. Yevchenko,
you’ve got to publish these things. You can’t just sit on it. You know how valuable it would be for the community if others could build on your research.”
“And you¸ Dr. Hughes, know exactly why I cannot do that. Besides, Dr. Petrova is close to making the same discovery.”
“And how do you know that, if I may ask?”
“I know a lot of things.”
Aeolus went quiet again, letting the full implications of their conversation sink in. “Dr. Yevchenko, tell me, is there any way the situation could be worse?”
“I don’t think so, Dr. Hughes. I assume you can take it from here. Anyway, I have done my part and will disappear back into obscurity. You will not hear from me or contact me again. After all, I don’t exist.”
“I still have your paper.”
“Dr. Hughes, such evidence is, as you know, easy to fabricate. Do zvidania.”
The line went silent and Aeolus looked the room. What they’d learned was so absurd, so beyond belief, that Ed collapsed into hysterical giggles, pearls of sweat appearing on his bald scalp. Richard was the one who maintained his composure best, a not unusual ability among lifelong military men. He was also the first to speak.
“Dr. Hughes, I think you might have just found the argument that will make the president join your side.”
“Yes, but if it was up to me, I think I would prefer the world as it looked an hour ago. Hank?”
“Yes, of course. Give me an hour. We need to assemble the joint chiefs. This has now become an issue which has larger military implications.”
“Sure. But Hank, let’s try to keep the monkeys out of it for now, shall we?”
By ‘the monkeys’ Aeolus were referring to the staff at USAMRIID, or ‘United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases’ at Fort Detrick.
AUGUST 18TH, 9 AM, THE WHITE HOUSE BASEMENT LEVEL, WASHINGTON D.C.
The president marched along the subterranean floor of the White House with determined steps, the soles of his shoes clacking against the hardwood floor, echoed by the footsteps of three half-jogging Secret Service agents surrounding him. Behind the posse were the Chief of Staff and Hank Wiley. Hank was struggling to keep up. He was trying to continue his briefing, although he was so short of breath that it was difficult to speak.
It didn’t matter. The president had stopped listening a long time ago. Combining the words “North Korea” and “biological weapons” was all it took. This was unprecedented.
It wasn’t uncommon for the president to be woken by his staff during a crisis, but never, not even when his team announced they had reliable intelligence on Osama Bin Laden’s location, had he been so quick to leave the residence. It was any president’s worst nightmare. And he was living it.
He pushed through the Situation Room doors and found it bustling with activity. His entire national security team was there, apart from the CIA director, who was not in Washington. They all looked like they had been even more rushed than him. Unshaven faces, yesterday’s wrinkled shirts and bloodshot eyes were all around.
They would have had an hour on him to get briefed, while the CIA worked to verify the intelligence before waking the president, but it didn’t seem like they were on top of it yet. Some were on phones talking hurriedly. Some had staffers leaning over their shoulders pointing at the desks in front of them, guiding them through documents. Yet some were desperately scribbling on papers trying to organize their opinions.
As he entered, the whole room instantly rose, the uniforms jerking into attention.
“At ease,” the president commanded, while choosing not to take a seat himself. Instead he slammed both his palms onto the table and leaned forward.
“Someone, please tell me this is not happening?”
The people around the room exchanged nervous glances, but no one spoke. It was indeed happening.
“Do we have the WHO Director-General on the line?”
An aide flicked on the screen and Dr. Aeolus Pentecost Hughes appeared with Richard Lane at his side.
The president was once again reminded what a peculiar character the WHO director was.
There was something almost effeminate about the way he continuously adjusted his cuffs, tie-knot and collar to perfection. His blond, slightly unkempt hair and that cane made him look like an aloof philosophy professor. Not the type that would go well down with the boys in the South.
And yet there was something contradictory about his appearance. His erect posture, his extreme economy of movement, and precise, conductor-like gesticulations conveyed great authority. Any doubt of his masculine power was extinguished when you met his gaze: focused, unwavering and unapologetic, with that spark in his eyes that came with supreme mental ability. This was the one man in the room who wouldn’t follow his orders without question. The last time the president met him he had seen this as pompous arrogance, but now it inspired respect. If there was ever a time when he needed an unyielding contrarian as an advisor, it was now.
“Dr. Hughes,” said the president, “you concur with Hank’s opinion that this virus originated in a bio-weapons lab in North Korea?”
“Yes, Mr. President, the source has unimpeachable credibility,” answered Aeolus.
“The CIA has confirmed it via back-channels as well,” added the Secretary of State, “although the Russians will never admit to it publicly.”
“Well, that puts things in a completely different light, now doesn’t it?” the president said.
“As you all know, I have pursued a foreign policy agenda based on the idea that we have undervalued diplomacy and had an excessive belief in the effectiveness of military solutions. As such, I’ve ordered the withdrawal of American troops from several conflict zones. I think you would all agree this approach has been a success. We’ve achieved our objectives without wasting American lives, while at the same time strengthening our relationships with our allies as well as historical antagonists. But, it has led to criticism against me in the conservative press. Some people have the impression that I am a gun-shy leader. That perception is about to change.
“The difference in this situation is that we are not waging war against states that harbor terrorists, while not themselves being involved in military action against the United States. We’re not talking about nation building to promote democracy. What we are talking about is a premeditated attack with a biological agent banned in international treaties.”
“Excuse me, Mr. President,” interrupted Aeolus, “Just to be clear. We don’t know for sure that it was intentional. It could have been an accidental release.”
“In any case, we’re going to assume the worst,” the president continued, turning to Hank. “Have any of our NATO allies had cases yet?”
“We have a suspected, but not confirmed, case in Greece, Mr. President.”
“That’s all we need. I’m going to invoke Article Five of the NATO treaty. ‘An armed attack against one is to be considered an attack against all.’ That will give us casus belli. We will launch a full-scale retaliatory strike against North Korea.”
“Excuse me, Mr. President,” Aeolus interrupted again, “If you’re referring to a nuclear strike, or indiscriminate carpet-bombing with MOABs, I’d ask you to bear in mind that it’s possible the lab from which this virus originates also contains a vaccine or, at the very least, research that we sorely need. We might even find the man behind this atrocity. We don’t know where the lab is and there is, consequently, a chance that an attack uninformed by solid intelligence could destroy it.”
“I doubt there’s much to be found,” Hank interjected. “The scientist in question will be long gone. He was in his fifties when he defected. That would make him one of the oldest men in the world if he was still around.”
“So, it has to be a conventional attack,” said the president, choosing Aeolus’s advice over Hank’s. “Airstrikes against the air defenses, airfields and mechanized units, followed by a ground force. I want a full-scale invasion. Anything but complete and
unconditional surrender is an unacceptable outcome.”
“Excuse me, Mr. President,” the Secretary of Defense interjected. “There’s a snag with a conventional invasion as well. It’s the same problem we have had ever since the armistice. Seoul is within artillery range of the southernmost North Korean positions. They could obliterate the entire city. Were talking about ten million civilian lives. And this is one of our most steadfast allies. What would it say to our other allies? And preemptive evacuation isn’t an option either. The North Koreans would do anything to avoid losing their crown jewel of threats.”
The president sighed in resignation and finally sat down. “You have to wonder, if Truman had realized what would follow, would he have stopped General MacArthur at the Thirty-Eighth Parallel?”
After a brief moment of contemplation he snapped out it. “Enough of this! We are under attack and we are not going to sit idle. We will respond! Draw up a scenario that doesn’t destroy the lab, is a commensurate response and minimizes the collateral damage on our side. Collateral damage on their side is not part of the equation. And I want it in twelve hours. Is that clear?”
“Mr. President,” said the Secretary of State. He was an old friend, and could push advice in situations where the discussion was otherwise over. “We could try to ask the Chinese to intervene.”
“The Chinese have never been able to give us any meaningful help with the North Koreans.”
“They might see it differently this time, since it also involves their own national interest.”
“Do the Chinese know about the North Koreans?” the president asked.
“Yes,” said Aeolus, “I’ve been in contact with my counterparts there and they have most certainly passed it up the chain. Let’s just say, they are not pleased.”
The Nightmare Scenario Page 24