The Pilgrim Strain

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The Pilgrim Strain Page 10

by Edgar, C. P.


  Merissa was fanatic about running. She found it cathartic. She had once run the entire Boston Marathon route just to prove to herself that she could finish it. She had never had enough time to actually train for a marathon or to sign up and participate in one. She just woke one morning and bored with her usual routes around the city decided to download the route onto her iPhone and she ran it. She wasn’t going to be going to the Olympics anytime soon but her finishing time had been respectable.

  After finding her running shoes and shoveling down a cup of apple sauce and some chocolate covered espresso beans, she headed out into the chill of the morning in search of some mental peace.

  ***

  Einberg was down close to the ground and was half hidden by a piece of tarp he had found nearby. He had just finished installing the magnetic switches to the door of Dr. Manzak’s shelter. He had procured two pieces of fabric identical in color and texture to the fabric used in her shelter and had been epoxy gluing the fabric over the switches and wiring at the seam near the door when a viper had knocked against his left boot. He was wearing a pair of NVGs and saw the snake when he had looked down to investigate what had caused the feeling.

  Einberg didn’t very much like snakes and the sight of the six foot viper fork tonguing his desert boots had caused him to violently kick it away from him. He had inadvertently hit his NVGs against the hard surface of the door when he had made the reactive move. Now he was forced to lay there waiting for the Doctor to go back to bed.

  She had come out to investigate the noise but had gone back in. He was willing her to switch the lights inside the tent back off signaling her return to sleep but he could still see light spilling through the seams of the shelter.

  Miller broke the silence over the net, “Juliet, what’s the situation?”

  Miller was located with the vehicle which they had parked in a wadi along the western border of the camp and only about a kilometer from the doctor’s shelter.

  Einberg and Miller had been tasked with the installation of the remote ‘door chime’ which transmitted to a microwave receiver and then broadcasted the data over an encrypted digital transmitter unit that Miller had installed in the hollow of a downed tree near the top of the wadi.

  Eventually, if activated the door chime would help notify the team when the doctor was coming or going on their Virgin system. In the case of leaving, it would assist them in being sharp when she was on the move so they could pick up the surveillance right away. Surveillance was a boring activity in general and you could miss your target five feet in front of you if you weren’t paying attention.

  Einberg depressed his lapel button and spoke over the radio network, “She’s back inside and I’m just waiting to see if the lights go out so I can check to make sure the install looks ok before I head back your way, over.”

  “Roger, be advised that sunrise is about fifty minutes away and I’m already starting to see sporadic movement throughout the camp.”

  Miller had put up a Novadem NX110m quadcopter camera platform when he had initially heard Einberg call in that he had an issue. The NX110m was near, silently hovering about seventy-five meters directly above and its camera system was oriented toward Einberg’s location. Miller had a Virgin tablet on his left forearm and was looking at the video feed. Throughout the camp, refugees were beginning to stir. He saw a few people in the immediate area walking, probably in search of the water well.

  “I think if you are going to get out unseen you better haul ass back here now.”

  Einberg had heard the sounds of the camp awakening all around him. Just as he began to move out from underneath the tarp the door to Doctor Manzak’s shelter sprang open again. Einberg froze in place and then slowly melted back down to the ground. He watched as the doctor locked the door behind her using the keypad and then she began stretching.

  He saw that she was wearing tight black pants, a pullover, and running shoes. She also had a pair of white earbuds tucked into her ears and had been playing with what looked like an iPhone before she tucked it into a front pocket of her pullover.

  “Toad, the Doctor is on the move. It looks like she is going out for a jog. Bro, she’s pretty hot!” Einberg advised. He couldn’t help himself, it had been awhile since he had seen an American woman, especially one with a tight little ass.

  “Roger, noted. When she heads out check the door and get back here. We need to get back in place.” Miller moved the NX110m laterally about fifteen meters to get line of sight on the doctor’s shelter. He zoomed in and caught a glimpse of the doctor as she began jogging toward the heart of the camp and thankfully in the opposite direction from where he thought Einberg had gone to ground.

  Miller saw a shadow rise from the ground near the shelter and walk slowly toward the shelter door. He could make out Einberg reaching out and touching the area around the door and then he moved back into the shadows of the camp. Miller lost him.

  “I’m en route, the install looks ok. Not my best work but it should go unnoticed.”

  Miller brought the NX110m down and stowed it as he waited for Einberg to materialize. Moments later he heard, “Coming in.”

  ***

  Merissa sat within the main room of the clinical administration building patiently waiting. The loudspeakers within the camp, which were notorious for not working, had come to life this morning. She could hear the message being played in multiple languages for the benefit of all the refugees within the camp.

  Around her, workers were busying themselves preparing for the day. They were comprised mostly of women from the camp who volunteered and showed some level of aptitude toward medicine. Many were midwives or the native equivalent.

  Merissa was often struck by the raw courage and strength of these beautiful women. The environment in which they were born was so harsh, yet they found little ways to remain true women. Their clothes were a beacon of their pride; they wore colorful flowing robes and dresses that were almost always handcrafted.

  Although most of the women in the camp were Christian and were escaping oppressive violence from Arabs in the region, many still chose to cover their heads in matching colorful scarves. Merissa knew that many would simply point to the sun and explain this as a way to remain cooler, although she knew that they may equally be escaping condemnation.

  Arabic was the most common language spoken throughout Sudan and today the message was delivered most often in that language, “ومن المقرر أن تبدأ التطعيمات الإلزامية اليوم.يرجى التقرير إلى العيادة لتلقي.” Merissa didn’t speak Arabic although she had picked up on phrases over the past several months. She had totally given up trying to speak any of the native Kurdufan languages like Katla or Rashad.

  She did know what this morning’s broadcast said though because it was in her words, her message to the people. She had told Samir to keep it simple, “Just say, mandatory vaccinations are scheduled to begin today. Please report to the clinic to receive.”

  Outside people had already begun to get in line. The refugees seemed destined to spend their lives in lines. Food lines. Medical lines. Border crossings. Shelter assignments. They were ushered from place to place in search of some peace, trying to avoid conflict and they were thrust at all moments into lines. “Herded,” she thought as she watched the lines form outside the clinic window.

  “Are you ok Doctor?” Samir asked.

  Merissa was taken aback by the question. How long had Samir been studying me? She felt slightly ashamed about her thoughts and looked deeply at Samir trying to ascertain whether he could read her mind.

  “I’m fine Samir, maybe a little overwhelmed. There are so many people to help today and we still haven’t received the vaccinations. Where could he be?”

  “I do apologize for being late Doctor, we ran into a Rebel unit on the way here and had to negotiate a settlement,” Mr. Trecato said standing just inside the clinic offset from the entryway wearing another finely tailored suit. Workers, presumably his,
were ushering past him carrying containers and boxes. They began stacking them on floor near the far wall.

  Merissa had jumped when he had spoken, taken aback at how he had been able to appear unannounced, “I meant no disrespect Mr. Trecato, I am grateful you were able to make it here. I was just getting worried that we were going to have to postpone again and frankly these people can’t wait any longer. We’ve had a rash of newborns this week all showing positive for polio related deformations. The Rebels stopped you? Are you ok?”

  “Yes, we were afraid they were going to try and hijack the shipment but we were able to come to an agreeable solution,” he said winking at her.

  Merissa was struck by this. Was her mind playing games or was that look quite sinister?

  He continued, ignoring her stare, “As promised this is the new polio vaccination. The hard cases over there contain the new jet injection systems. You’ll have to supply the power but each comes with a compressor unit and there are four injectors total. The boxes on the floor next to each contain enough sterilization kits for the entire camp.” Mr. Trecato was pointing from place to place amongst the supplies.

  Merissa thought about the logistics she had planned for today and thought that she could deploy three of the jet injector units out to three of the five clinics operating within the refugee camp and she would hold the fourth unit here at the main clinical facility as a reserve unit.

  She had worked with jet injectors before and knew that they were prone to disrepair when overused. These were new units however and the ones she had used in the past were very old and had seen hundreds of thousands of uses.

  Mr. Trecato finally made his way to the table where two large black plastic cases had been laid. Each had a large “Fragile: Sensitive Materials” sticker on the cover and had been sealed along the seams with red and white striped tamper resistant tape.

  He placed his hand on top of the closest case and stated, “These contain the vaccination lots. There are six mass immunization canisters. Each canister holds enough vaccination product for fifteen thousand applications.”

  They then spent the next hour or so going over the contents of the packages with the physicians, staff and local volunteers Merissa had organized to participate in the vaccination campaign. Merissa watched Mr. Trecato and several of his men patiently answering questions regarding the technical aspects of the equipment and most importantly the dosage specifications and inoculation procedures. Many of her staff members were taking notes and preparing mentally for the upcoming events, others were beginning to separate the contents placing them into sections of the large room by clinic designation.

  Merissa sat at a table and was assisting in the inventory of the materials laid out for clinic number two. She noticed that Mr. Trecato was finishing up with yet another group of staff members and she suddenly was very thankful for Mr. Trecato’s assistance and his staying around to oversee the transition of the products to her staff.

  The sudden, odd feelings she had felt for him earlier had evaporated. How could I have been frightened of this man? He just wants to help.

  “Doctor Manzak,” he stated walking over to her. “I believe we are done here for now. The rest is up to you but after meeting with the others I feel very confident that all is well. I am truly thankful for your cooperation on this and wish you all the luck today and the days to come,” he said smiling and reaching out to shake her hand.

  She took his hand and smiling back said, “Will you not be here during the vaccinations?”

  “No, I’m afraid I must go. I have another appointment I must attend to. I’m fully confident that you and your team can handle this. This is, as we’ve discussed, not your first major campaign so I trust fully in your capabilities and I look forward to the results of the field testing.”

  “I really must insist that you call me Merissa,” she said still smiling. She watched as Mr. Trecato’s people began filing out of the administration building. Many were finishing up on their own conversations and were politely excusing themselves. Merissa’s own people were toting out the materials destined for each of the clinics hosting vaccinations today.

  “Well if you insist Merissa, then please call me Douglas,” he said although she saw his eyes fill with instant regret. Clearing his throat, he hardened “I will contact you within the next few days to follow up on the progress and to see if you can provide any preliminary results.”

  He quickly turned and began heading out the door. Stopping suddenly, he turned. “Merissa,” he said looking directly at her. “Good luck.” And then he was gone.

  Merissa stood there for a moment staring at the still opened doorway. The goosebumps she had on her arms began to fade but the message in his eyes remained front and center in her mind. “Goodbye Douglas,” she said softly to herself feeling uneasy once again. She thought she might know why she was afraid of him now. His eyes. Something awful hidden within? She didn't want to believe it at the moment, because today was supposed to be about the power of good. Too many lives were about to be affected by this man's efforts. Maybe he was repenting for some previous wrongdoing and in constant inner struggle. He was a philanthropist, wasn't he? Merissa chuckled, philanthropist or repentant. It's not like he's some malevolent villain or omnipotent monster.

  ***

  Helechek and Daggan had crawled onto the eastern hilltop overlooking the refugee camp approximately twenty six hours ago, finding a nice hide site nestled in-between a rock cropping. The spaces between the rocks were interspersed with bushwillow shrubs making an effective natural concealment for the sniper and observer team.

  From their vantage point and elevation, they had about a sixty percent visual coverage of the eastern portions of the camp. The camp wasn’t a nice neat geometrical shape so swaths of it billowed out in odd directions mostly to the north of the compound.

  Helechek was up on the long range spotting scope mounted on a tripod to his front. Daggan was just returning from the backside of the hide after investigating the area where a remote motion sensor that had gone off.

  They had deployed four remote sensors along the logical routes up to their hide site. The sensors were linked to a transceiver stowed in Daggan’s pack that fed directly into the Virgins. It would vibrate if one of the motion sensors were tripped.

  So far, Daggan had been forced to investigate several false alarms which were likely small game moving along the narrow trails. He had been playing around with his Virgin trying to establish the appropriate tolerances for the motion detecting trying to rule out smaller body densities.

  The two of them had been notified by an automated instant message earlier that the female doctor had left her shelter and had been visually confirmed that she was making her way on foot toward the clinic administration building. The team, over the previous two days, had been able to identify the critical infrastructure of the camp and had mapped it into the Virgins. Helechek and Daggan would report their observations to the Tactical Operations Center or TOC which they had stood up to assist with the surveillance operation. The TOC was keeping up with the log and reporting details, and would be coordinating or controlling any other assets like UAVs if they were deployed. The TOC was being manned by Rainer, Kef, Einberg, and Miller in rotation when they weren’t conducting their own ops.

  The doctor had been in the clinic administration building for a while and Helechek had been watching the activity in and around that part of the camp increase dramatically. Outside the building, a line of refugees had formed and several vehicles had come and gone depositing what he thought were other medical staffers.

  Helechek had taken a break from the scope to let his eyes relax. Looking through optics for lengthy periods of time really fatigued the eye and he was advancing toward the end of his shift. He took one last look into the optics thinking he would turn it over to Daggan so he could get some chow. Centered in his aperture was a black Mercedes along with two panel trucks that had pulled to a stop behind it. Helechek hadn’t seen anyone leave th
e Mercedes but he observed several men taking packages out of the panel trucks and delivering them into the building.

  He keyed up his mic, “TOC, TOC, this is Sierra One, over.” He waited a moment noticing that Daggan had silently found his place next to him and was already looking through a set of Steiner 15x80 binoculars set up on a tripod. He also had put on a headset that was connected to the parabolic microphone set up approximately seven meters off to their right in a separate cluster of bushwillow shrubs. They were just at the maximum effective range of the parabolic but he was intent on picking up any useful information from the system if possible.

  “Sierra One, this is TOC. Go ahead with traffic, over.”

  Helechek recognized Rainer’s voice over the radio network. He continued with his reporting, “Roger TOC, we’ve got new activity at the clinic administration building, break.”

  He dropped off the net and then rekeyed the radio using the Silynx control box attached to his pack. He was lying in the prone position on his stomach “slick” meaning he wasn’t wearing any tactical gear and had everything stowed or attached to his pack.

  “We have three victors that just pulled up to the facility where Sprinter is located, description to follow, break.” Taking another moment to focus on the vehicles he rekeyed his mic, “Two medium-sized panel trucks blue and grey in color with no markings and one black Mercedes SUV which looks very familiar, over.”

  Rainer, who had been sitting with his feet up on the folding table perked up at the mention of the black Mercedes. He snapped his fingers several times trying to and finally getting Kef’s attention who was just outside the door to the small house they had secured southwest of Kaduqli. They were about thrity five kilometers from the refugee camp.

  Kef walked over, “What’s up?”

  “Get on the laptop and ping the GPS we put on Brewster. Chek just reported seeing a black Mercedes co-located with Sprinter,” Rainer explained.

 

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