The Pilgrim Strain

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The Pilgrim Strain Page 8

by Edgar, C. P.


  She shut the door to the Land Rover and walked up the dusty and worn concrete stairs of the administration building. A single, worn wooden door stood partially open. Samir dropped the SUV into gear and Merissa heard him pulling away heading toward the clinic.

  Pushing the door open Merissa walked into the main room of the administration building. There were only two large rooms, a single private office with some computer terminals, and a single restroom with a working toilet. The main room housed a large conference table, or more appropriately a large wooden surface made to resemble a conference table. Sitting at the far end in what appeared to be a new leather chair was Mr. Trecato.

  Merissa had only met Mr. Trecato a few weeks prior during a working group session held in Khartoum. The conference had been established to discuss recent epidemiology reports on polio outbreaks in Sudan.

  In 2009, Sudan had a massive polio epidemic that required a door-to-door vaccination program developed and administered by WHO which had effectively receded the disease convincing some that it had been eradicated. Merissa had begun diagnosing polio cases a few months ago, which lead WHO to deploy a polio field study group to the area. The conference had been arranged to report on the team’s findings and to try and plan for actions if necessary.

  During the conference, the WHO team announced that Sudan was seeing a large spike in wild poliovirus type 1 which had previously been targeted for eradication in the 2009 campaign. Merissa recalled seeing the maps displayed in the presentation and how the study had determined locality near the main refugee camps but that for the most part the camps were still outbreak-free.

  Merissa and the other doctors assigned to the working group had noted from refugee records large numbers of Kenyans, Ethiopians, and Somalis had recently fled to Sudan inundating camps with potentially unvaccinated people. They formulated a plan to administer a new round of polio vaccines starting at the major metropolitan areas like Khartoum and in the refugee camps. The hope was a renewed effort at eradication.

  Miraculously, Mr. Trecato had been in attendance at the conference and Merissa had come to find out later that he and his company had participated in the first eradication effort and Mr. Trecato had been invited back in anticipation of the need for more vaccines.

  Merissa recalled having a moment to speak with him about his company which she had been happy to learn was a for-profit drug manufacturing company in the United States, Europe, and Central Asia but had a world-renowned charitable subsidiary that spun out free vaccination lots for areas deemed in jeopardy for outbreaks by the WHO.

  Merissa was shaken out of her memories by his booming voice, “Good morning Dr. Manzak.”

  “Mr. Trecato, good morning. Please call me Merissa. I’m so glad you were able to make the trip with such short notice,” she replied walking up to him with her hand extended. Mr. Trecato slowly rose from his chair and extended his as well.

  “Under the circumstances, we believe speed is always of the essence,” he said shaking her hand firmly. Merissa noted that his grasp felt powerful. Not crushing, but she could tell he wasn’t a frail bureaucrat.

  Merissa took a seat directly across from him and looked about the room surprised that none of the other doctors had arrived yet. Mr. Trecato having watched her process the scene smiled, “Merissa, I did not invite the other members of your working group.”

  She must have made a face that expressed confusion because Mr. Trecato laughed but responded, “Don’t worry Merissa we are not abandoning the project. I wanted to meet with you directly because I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “A favor?” she said feeling uneasy.

  Merissa, although grateful from the work done by pharmaceutical companies, was, like many of her colleagues, skeptical about their missions. “Were pharma companies trying to help people or their bottom lines?” was often a debate and position of contention amongst her and her colleagues.

  “Look, my company has developed a variant vaccination for polio which has just recently passed human testing and has been approved for public consumption. It is a combination inactivated polio vaccine, which also contains tetanus, acellular pertussis, and a new Haemophilus influenza type b. It is administered via injection and has been developed specifically to be administered by a jet injector system for cost-savings and biohazard waste reductions.”

  Merissa remained quiet but was intent on listening. She was happy that Mr. Trecato was offering a solution and was not here to shut down the campaign. She noted that Mr. Trecato was not big on small talk having jumped right into the point of his visit. But she noted that he had touched on something important with his opening statement. Poliomyelitis is a sad disease most often affecting children. Merissa hated to see the beautiful children of Sudan succumb to this awful fate when there were so many ways to prevent it.

  Mr. Trecato continued, “Now here is where the favor comes in.”

  She shifted slightly in her seat expecting the hammer to fall. As a doctor, she was uncomfortable with the thought of favors, especially when it involved a pharma company.

  “My company has only produced enough of this new vaccination to administer within a single large refugee camp.”

  “What? But there are hundreds of camps big and small,” Merissa stated hurt by the implications of the news. “You might as well keep your vaccination because it will do no good for the region.”

  “Merissa, please let me finish. I understand your frustration but as I was saying my company has only produced enough for a single large refugee camp. The intent is to produce more but we want to do this in stages utilizing the most cost-effective systems. The one I just described was designed by me and my team and would cost pennies on the dollar per patient compared to others on the market now. However, our programs are approved by a Board of Directors and although I pitched the success of this new system, they have determined the need for a field trial to develop the metrics they desire as proof for a full-scale manufacturing project.” Mr. Trecato uncrossed his legs and crossed them in opposite fashion. He was holding his hands tented in front of his face and was letting his words sink in.

  Merissa thought he looked like such a company man in his finely tailored suit so out of place in this country. She sighed though, knowing she needed to leverage this opportunity.

  “I’m not sure that the WHO will approve use of its facilities for a field trial,” she stated trying one last effort, although she was aware she had no alternative course of action to help these people. Her mind drifted to the infant she had delivered just days prior, its left leg deformed and atrophied from the spinal pressures.

  “I’ve already gained approval from your Director. I spoke with him regarding this before I boarded my flight here. He told me that he approved, although he also advised me that you would have final say regarding medical actions within the refugee camp. He said he would be too scared to face you should he overrule you from afar.”

  Merissa chuckled at the thought of Director Ivey cowering in his office as she stormed in assaulting him with a barrage of curses. She of course would never in a million years do that but she has in the past dreamed that she had. She believed that Director Ivey respected her for her candor and her willingness to say things as she saw them. She also realized that Mr. Trecato was telling the truth although she would call on the Director after the meeting to confirm.

  “If we do this and you and your Board determine the veracity of your product, how long until we can conduct a full-scale vaccination within the region?” she asked.

  “The production facilities and the labs are already tooled for manufacturing for this vaccine, which we will sell for profit within the European, American, and Chinese markets. This region will be afforded enough product for a full-scale campaign based on overproduction lots within the manufacturing cycles,” Mr. Trecato stated reaching for a small tumbler of ice water resting on the table in front of him. He took a small sip from the water returning the glass to its original place.

  Merissa h
ad thought that Mr. Trecato looked thinner than the last time she had seen him and his eyes, although still fiery, had a bit of fatigue to them with slight dark circles.

  “You will receive the main campaign shipment of vaccinations just weeks after this field test is determined successful,” he finally stated after a brief, somewhat dramatic pause.

  Merissa thought about the timing of this. She estimated the field testing would take a few weeks to administer considering it was probably a two-dose set. An additional couple of weeks probably for post-administration clinical reporting. She believed that realistically it would be the first of the year before the full-scale campaign, which would be great.

  “Ok, Mr. Trecato. How do we get started?” she asked accepting that this was the best course of action for the people.

  “I’ll have the vaccination system delivered by the end of the week. Merissa, I appreciate your understanding on this matter and I’m glad we could make this happen,” he said rising from his seat with his hand extended.

  Merissa also stood and took his hand. She noticed as his watch slid forward just slightly, again registering that he must be thinning a little. She wondered if he had been sick or whether the exhaustion from traveling had caused him to fatigue.

  As she was observing his watch and looking at his wrist she saw that he had a tattoo hidden underneath. She thought that was odd for a man of his age although nowadays it was becoming more prevalent.

  All of these thoughts were almost instant as she shifted her gaze from his wrist to his eyes as they shook hands. His eyes greeted hers and they stood there for just a moment too long before he said, “I will be back to oversee the delivery at the end of the week. Good day, Dr. Manzak.” He then collected his attaché case and left her standing there.

  ***

  Douglas walked down the dusty concrete stairs of the administration building and entered the already opened door of the Mercedes G63. Once situated into the back of the SUV he flipped open his satellite phone and punched in a memorized number sequence. The phone clicked through its processes establishing a connection and within moments he heard someone answer, “Hello Mr. Trecato.”

  “She agreed to the terms without incident,” Douglas stated slightly annoyed by James's breach in communication security, using his cover identity over communications even if theoretically encrypted. He had also been thinking through the contingency plans that they had established should Dr. Manzak decide to resist the initial pitch when the call had come, so he was already on edge. He felt confident she would not have resisted the alternative pitch, but had been relishing the challenge, and had been slightly aroused by the forethought.

  “Good. Where is the shipment?” James asked.

  “It is on the ground and I’m headed there now to accept delivery,” Douglas stated while grabbing a bottle of iced water from a chest built into the center armrest of the vehicle.

  “Ok, we’re moving to the final location. I’ll see you there when you are finished with that godforsaken place,” James stated and the call terminated. Douglas hated being hung up on. He gripped the phone with white knuckles and his eyes closed.

  Finally, he sighed and looked out upon the landscape drifting by. They were skirting the outer perimeter of the refugee camp heading southwest. The camp looked to be at maximum capacity as seemingly every inch was consumed by a hut, or more appropriately sticks and branches of stripped baobab trees, strung with torn clothes, fragments of tarps, strips of plastic sheeting, and the sort. The remaining spaces were taken up by hordes of children running through the lanes set between rows of huts.

  So many people in need of resources. So many people period. He looked upon them and they sickened him. He finally looked away and closed his eyes again.

  He opened them moments later but he could tell from the way he felt and the surroundings rushing by that he had been asleep for a good while. Douglas looked at the LCD monitor built into the headrest directly in front of him. It displayed a detailed map of the region and the position of the Mercedes as well as the direction of travel. Having studied the region extensively he knew that they were coming up on the airfield.

  The airfield was located in a remote area of South Sudan west of Wau. It wasn’t so much a formal airfield as it was a hardened surface created as a result of a failed man-made reservoir. It had been centrally located in a large swath of land that had no established use. A previous NGO had tried to engineer the reservoir to feed a land cultivation project for agricultural sustainment but the NGO had collapsed financially in 2007 and the project had been scrapped.

  There were no significant natural overlooks surrounding the airfield and no villages within many miles. The area was more akin to a prairie and there were little to no real vegetation that might hide surveillance of any kind.

  Douglas had never organized a use for it before but he had straw purchased the area a few years prior because of its potential covert use. They had many such locations throughout the world that they operated or leased to other government organizations.

  The Mercedes began to decelerate slightly and then came to a complete stop. Douglas heard the driver make radio contact with the security element, “Speedwell this is Brewster, over.”

  “Roger Brewster, we have eyes on you. Flash your lights twice for visual confirmation, over.”

  Douglas watched as the driver reached down and switched the auxiliary lights on then off twice. He heard the radio break again.

  “Brewster you are cleared to approach, how copy?”

  The driver keyed the hand mic of the radio once again, “Roger Speedwell, we are inbound to your perimeter.” With that the driver replaced the radio into its receiver and eased the Mercedes forward once again.

  Douglas watched through the vehicle’s windshield and could see the Ilyushin Il-112 off in the distance. He tried to pick up the locations of the men he knew were training their weapons on him but he could not locate any of them. He smiled at the thought of crosshairs centered on his window.

  The Mercedes came to a stop approximately thirty meters from the rear of the Ilyushin. The rear cargo doors were in the down position and Douglas could see Rainer standing at the top of the ramp still within the aircraft. Douglas exited the Mercedes and started to walk toward the ramp.

  ***

  Rainer checked his watch and noted the time. He looked to the Northeast using a pair of Steiner binoculars. Off in the distance he could see a trail of dust signaling the approach of vehicles. He had deployed the team around the area in a loose perimeter wherever they could find a place to melt into the environment.

  A slight breeze drifted past bringing with it a short-lived relief from the heat of the day. Rainer and the men had changed mid-flight into more comfortable attire. Should they encounter the local government forces or peacekeepers from the United Nations it would be best if they weren’t wearing full battle attire.

  Their cover was that they were delivering humanitarian supplies and the team's gear was currently contained in Pelican cases which had been packed into large cardboard crates with “Shelter Logistics” logos stenciled onto the outer sides.

  Rainer reached up and depressed the second to the top shirt button of his short-sleeved polo. He could hear in his earpiece the radio link open, “Top to Sierra One, do you have eyes on the incoming victor?”

  Helechek responded, “Roger, one vehicle matching the description.”

  “Roger. All units scan for counter-sniper locations,” Rainer advised setting the binoculars down into a gear bag lying on the deck of the aircraft. He lifted out of the bag his Virgin tablet and brought up the video feed from the Puma AE drone that was circling the perimeter overhead.

  The drone had earlier been hand launched by Einberg and was autonomously scanning the ground with its video systems providing Rainer and the team real-time visuals of the surrounding areas. Rainer tasked the Puma AE to circle the incoming vehicle and could see from his Virgin that it appeared to be a boxy black Mercedes SUV with l
imo tinted windows. He could barely make out a driver in the interior of the vehicle, and even so could only barely make out a set of hands clutching the steering wheel.

  “Juliet, you have control of the Puma. Once we bring this vehicle in, start making runs on the outer perimeter looking for snipers or counter-assault teams,” he stated over the net. He knew that Einberg hated his call sign of Juliet but he surmised he hated it less than being called a Jew all the time during operations.

  “Roger.”

  A while later, and after the Mercedes had issued its visual signal, it was allowed to enter the perimeter and pulled up along the aircraft that Rainer occupied. The driver, who appeared to be of Eastern European ancestry, exited the vehicle and walked to the rear to open the passenger door.

  Rainer noted that the driver was large and agile, and likely a hired gun. In fact, Rainer also noted that the driver was concealing a handgun in his lower back and had another on his left ankle. He wasn’t worried however as there were at least three crosshairs on the man and he would be a fool to reach for a weapon.

  The rear door to the Mercedes opened before the driver had even placed his hand on the handle and out walked Brewster. Rainer did not know the true identity of the man, and had only recently developed a face-to-face relationship with the handler. Rainer could recall at least seven missions being executed under the command of Brewster, although the initial operations had been established through third-party vendors.

  Brewster walked up the ramp to the Ilyushin and shook Rainer’s hand. “Good to see you Rainer,” Brewster stated without a hint of emotion.

  “You can leave your man at the vehicle,” Rainer stated looking over Brewster’s shoulder to the driver who had started up the ramp. Brewster turned and nodded to the driver who gave Rainer his best hardened stare before retreating to the interior of the Mercedes.

 

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