Genetic Bullets: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 3)

by JC Ryan

  “What chance do you give that?” JR asked.

  “Hard to say. First, they have to find it. Then they have to devise the treatment and a way to deliver it. It’s hard to conceive of that happening in the next two, two and a half weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” asked JR.

  “That’s how long we’ve got before the Middle East is virtually depopulated,” Rebecca responded. Unlike the others, she watched Raj’s spreadsheet daily, despairing over the accuracy of it. If only they could find a therapy that would save those who were sick now, and halt the spread. The numbers would still be appalling, but the population of the Middle East would recover eventually.

  Even as she spoke, Hannah was listening to Nyree with astonishment. How had she missed that the 10th Cycle imaging device they were using had automated analytical capabilities? Nyree was showing her how to instruct the machine to computerize the examination of all or part of the samples’ DNA sequence and alert the user to differences. Naturally, it had to be fine-tuned to avoid alerting at gene pairs that they expected to be different; those that coded for eye color for example. However, with Hannah’s sample as the control and Ben’s as the one being compared, they hoped to find the junk DNA that they suspected had been activated to cause his illness. Then they’d check that against one of the samples from the deceased members of the team. Hannah’s previous experience had been in manually advancing the image of an electron microscope as she compared visually. This 10th Cycle device would not only be faster, but also more accurate.

  Both women held their breath as Nyree set the analysis in motion. Hannah watched as the image moved in a blur, until the device signaled and stopped advancing the image so she could examine what it had found. Ah…the CCR5 gene. They already knew that was different in these two; but they also knew there was something else, at least if their theory was correct. Hannah clicked the command to start again. Moments later, another signal brought Hannah back to the monitor. On the screen was an entire section of gene pairs lit up on Hannah’s sample and dark on Ben’s. What could this be?

  Hannah scanned the graphic for clues. On the upper left was a legend that indicated where in the gene sequence this section was located. It wasn’t a familiar area to Hannah, so she turned to her computer and brought up the standard reference work that would tell her what, if anything, was known about it. Moving quickly through the index, she located the chromosome and then the first gene pair that was different in the sample. Nyree stood by, wanting to ask but afraid to distract Hannah. She could see that Hannah had discovered something interesting, maybe even exciting.

  Hannah checked twice, looking back and forth between the legend on the screen, and the reference index. There was no doubt about it. This section was unknown as to function. It had been tentatively marked as a fragment of retrovirus that did not code for protein; in other words, it had no known function in the body. It was exactly the right type of gene they were looking for, but was it the only one? Hannah had a moment’s hesitation as she thought through whether to continue the entire analytical process for these two samples, or stop here and compare the others.

  “Nyree, can we set the machine to stop at a particular gene pair, rather than looking for differences?”

  “Certainly.” Nyree showed Hannah the commands to do that. Swiftly, Hannah pulled out the slide with Rebecca’s sample, and replaced it with Ben’s as the control now. Then, she randomly grabbed a slide from one of the deceased expedition members and placed it in the device. Again holding her breath, she gave the appropriate commands. A few minutes later, the screen resolved to show, side by side, the same section of DNA. It was identical. Hannah let her breath out in a whoosh. “There you are, you son of a bitch.”

  She needed to verify it. This time, she used a sample from the new patients, which had already tested positive for the CCR5 allele that Middle Easterners had in common. The same result came from the same section—none of the Middle Easterners had that particular section active. She had to get word out to the CDC that she’d found something, so they could start working on delivery of genetic therapy. She didn’t have the sophisticated equipment here to cut out the defective section and replace it with something that would protect the patients. It was now up to someone else to unlock the cure that would save the world, but she, based on a tip from Rebecca, had just found the key.

  ~~~

  “What is it?” Rebecca asked.

  “I don’t know, love. Hannah asked me to gather everyone as quickly as possible, and she especially wants you. She seemed excited.”

  “Could she possibly…I’ll be right there.”

  JR went on to gather the others, as Rebecca finished taking the vital signs of the woman in the bed. “Your fever is down, Amina. That’s good news. I must go to this meeting now, but I’ll be back afterward to check on you again.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Rebecca.”

  Rebecca hurried down the hall to the conference room where JR had said they’d be gathered. He said Hannah was excited, that had to be good news, didn’t it? She’d never seen the taciturn Hannah excited. It had to be big, whatever it was.

  Because she’d tarried to finish her task, Rebecca was the last to arrive. When Hannah saw her, she began clapping her hands and smiling, nodding her head as others began to follow suit. Rebecca stopped, confused.

  “What?”

  “You, my friend, are a genius,” Hannah said. “You did it. You remembered the key information, and we’ve found what’s causing the difference in behavior of this virus. We now have the information we need for devising a gene therapy to cure it.”

  Rebecca’s hand flew to her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. “A cure?”

  “Yes, without a doubt. Sit down and I’ll explain it to everyone.”

  Rebecca sat, but could hardly stay still as Hannah went through a complex explanation of how some genes don’t code for things like eye color, how tall you’ll be or blood group. What Rebecca had read about was often called junk DNA, because it seemed to have no function. The dimly-remembered article mentioned that some of the sequences within this so-called junk DNA were retrovirus fragments that, when activated, were implicated in several complex diseases, cancer being one of them. The burning question was, how did they become activated? And the answer seemed to be by microbes, whether viral or bacterial.

  Hannah went on to explain that the CCR5 gene that Ben and Rebecca had discovered to have two alleles, or forms, was particularly involved in the immune system, and that it had a dual role. One was to summon leukocytes, or white blood cells, and one was to code for proteins on the white blood cells that serve as magnets to the T cells. Here, she paused to explain the function of T cells.

  “Think of T cells as genetic bullets,” she said, unconsciously using a phrase that had been used with more sinister intent in the outside world recently. “There are thousands of diseases that can affect the human body. What we call immunities are actually the T cells that recognize each antigen and kills it. That’s a simplification, but it will do for now. Just remember, each disease has a specific T cell to kill it when your immune system recognizes it.”

  “Now, what’s happening with the H10N7 virus is that one allele of the CCR5 gene codes for a protein that activates a particular fragment of junk DNA. In this case, it’s a fragment of H10N7. We’ve had that in our DNA all along, but it apparently lost its potency at some time in the distant past. If you have the allele that codes for the protein, it activates the fragment, so the T cells recognize it and fight it. Based on your experience here in Antarctica, I’d say that the process is so innocuous that you don’t even know you’ve had an immune response.

  “The kicker is, the majority of Middle Eastern people have the other allele only, and that one apparently doesn’t code for the protein that activates the retrovirus fragment. The result is that the T cells to fight it aren’t produced, and the virus that spreads from person to person is able to overwhelm the system, resulting in death as a side effect of a
raging fever.”

  “What about the ones that have both alleles, like Ben?” Rebecca asked. She had followed the lecture perfectly, and was now focused on what she could do for her patients.

  “My guess is that the standard allele codes for the protein, but in fewer numbers, so that the infection is being fought off for a while. However, because there aren’t enough T cells developing, the patients eventually do become sick. You have a pretty good chance of saving them if you can keep the fever down and support the immune response. It isn’t the virus per se that’s killing them, it’s the side effects of the fever. Keep them stable until their bodies have a chance to fight it off, and they’ll recover.”

  “Thank God,” breathed Rebecca. Then, “We have to get word to the CDC right away. And to the world.”

  “Way ahead of you,” answered Hannah. “I called the CDC first. We don’t have what we need here to get the gene therapy developed, but they’ll put all the manpower on it that they can muster now. All you have to do is help these poor souls that they sent here to survive until we can get out of here.”

  The last phrase sobered everyone, most of whom had followed only with difficulty. They’d understood the part between Hannah and Rebecca well enough, though. A solution could be found. They’d be able to leave - someday.

  Daniel was the first to voice the question on everyone’s mind. “Do you think that means we can leave now?”

  Hannah shrugged her shoulders. “That’s up to the politicians, not me. It’s going to take a while to get the gene therapy established, let alone distributed worldwide. Until then, we’re still a danger to anyone without the antibodies to fight this thing off.”

  “I guess we’re still stuck here, then. But at least we can count on going home someday.” With that, Daniel excused himself to call Sarah and then the president with the good news.

  Chapter 31 - That damned virus has mutated?

  “But you can’t come home now.” It was a statement, not a question. Sarah only said it because Daniel didn’t. She didn’t know what to do with her anger. It was no one’s fault, and of course Daniel had to go, as he’d insisted. Thank God she hadn’t gone, too. Thinking about little Nick’s first Christmas and first birthday without his daddy was hard, but if it had been both of them she didn’t know how she would bear it. Even if Nicky would never remember. Of course, his grandma Emma and great-aunt Sally doted on him, as did Martha Simms. He would have been well cared-for, and if she were there, she would at least have Daniel’s arms around her. For the millionth time since he’d left, Sarah felt as if something were tearing her in half.

  His news was good, though. A possibility for a cure, she should be excited. Right now, she just felt tired. Daniel was chattering about something…oh, their plans to move into the cave any day now. How beautiful it was there, and how he wished she could see it for herself. Her head was buzzing, hard to hear what he was saying.

  “Sarah? Sarah, what’s wrong honey?”

  Sarah had dropped her head onto her arms. So tired. Daniel’s face in the screen took on a look of alarm. He tried once more.

  “Sarah!”

  Daniel switched to a different Skype user, leaving the call with Sarah connected. Relief flooded him when Luke answered his SMS call.

  “Luke, I was talking to Sarah and I think she passed out! Can you go see about her?”

  With barely a nod and a quick ‘k’ on the chat, Luke left the room at a run, skidding past Sarah’s door before he could stop himself. He opened it and ran in, taking in his niece’s white face and shallow breathing. Wasting no time, he grabbed the phone and dialed 911. In response to the operator’s questions, which he impatiently waited for, knowing that it would save time in the long run, then answered them. Address, name and age of the patient and what had happened.

  Luke went around to the computer monitor and bent over Sarah’s slumped body.

  “Daniel, are you still there?”

  “Yeah. Is Sarah okay?”

  “Don’t know, she’s unconscious. 911 wants to know what happened.”

  “I don’t know. We were talking, and she started to look sleepy, and then she just put her head down and I couldn’t get her to talk to me. Luke, what’s going on?”

  “I’ll call you back when we know, Daniel.”

  Luke relayed the information, such as it was, to the 911 operator. With the land line tied up, he took out his cell phone and speed-dialed his wife.

  “Sally, who has Nick, you or Emma?”

  “I do. What’s wrong?”

  Luke spared a thought for the woman who could read him like a book, even from just a few words over the phone.

  “Sarah’s sick. Can you call Emma and have her meet me at the hospital?”

  “Oh, my God, Luke, sick with what?”

  “Don’t know. Just get Emma down here, okay? The ambulance should be here any minute, and I’m going with her.”

  After Sally said she would, Luke looked around Sarah’s desk. He wouldn’t put it past some of the protesters to have sent her something harmful in the mail, but he didn’t see anything that led him to believe she’d received a package or envelope from outside. Even a thorough search of her desk drawers revealed nothing more unusual than the bottom right drawer filled with little Nick’s toys for when he visited mommy at the office. Luke ran his hand through his hair, standing it on end. What could possibly go wrong next?

  Moments later, he was in the back of an ambulance, watching as the attendants took Sarah’s vital signs, started oxygen and an IV and reported to the ER where they were taking her. It wasn’t a long trip; Boulder wasn’t a very big town. They arrived even faster than the ambulance had made it to the office, if Luke’s sense of time wasn’t off. Bursting through the doors with her stretcher, the attendants rapid-fired more information to a man in scrubs, maybe the ER doctor. He directed them into the partitioned room, Luke following. That’s when Luke realized that the room was in chaos. Dozens of people wearing the same look he was sure he had were in the room, trying and failing to stay out of the way of the rushing medical personnel.

  “What the hell?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until the man directing Sarah’s gurney answered.

  “It looks like that damned virus has mutated.”

  Luke stopped cold. He knew without asking what virus the man meant. Though the attention of the world and even the bulk of the attention of the Rossler Foundation was on the toll in the Middle East, Luke was among the insiders who understood that almost two million Americans of Middle Eastern descent had been affected so far as well, not to mention hundreds of thousands more scattered across the globe. Even Israel had a few thousand cases, despite their draconian quarantine measures.

  “Excuse me, are you a doctor?” he asked.

  “Resident. Were you in the ambulance with this woman?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get this mask on right now. You’re under quarantine. Are you related to her?”

  “Her uncle.”

  “Contact her family. Tell them under no circumstances are they to come here. This place is on lock-down.”

  Another man might have buckled under the news, but Luke had a lifetime of dealing with crises behind him. He took note of the cubicle where they put Sarah’s gurney, then loped out of the room to call Sally back.

  Once he’d calmed Sally, told her to watch for symptoms in the baby and reached Emma to turn her away from the hospital, he Skyped Daniel. Luke tried to school his face, but Daniel saw there was bad news the moment he saw it, covered as it was by a mask.

  “What, Luke? Tell me.”

  “Daniel, I’m so sorry, and I don’t know whether they’ve confirmed it, but this place is swarming with flu patients. The ER doc told me it appears the virus has mutated.”

  “God help us,” Daniel answered, when he was able to speak. “Are you there with her?”

  “Yes, but the hospital’s in lock-down. They told me to make sure Ryan and Emma didn’t come. The baby�
�s with Sally, and she’s watching him, for, you know.”

  Daniel closed his eyes, sighed and opened them again to stare into Luke’s.

  “Make sure they keep her fever down. That’s about all you can do for it, but she’ll recover if they don’t let her fever kill her. Tell them. And tell them, we’ve found the key. They’ll have something to fight this with as soon as possible. I have to go tell our virologist about the mutation.”

  “I’ll keep you posted, Daniel. And I’ll let the doctors know about the fever.”

  His phone calls finished, Luke went back into the chaotic ER to find the resident he’d spoken to before. He needed to tell him how to save Sarah’s life.

  ~~~

  In spite of his deep worry about Sarah, Daniel knew where his duty lay. After informing Rebecca and Hannah, he made sure he understood Hannah’s discovery and could recite the facts in a way that Harper could understand, and then called the White House.

  Harper had just finished dinner when an aide whispered to him that his presence was urgently required in the Oval Office. Telling the First Lady he’d meet her in their private quarters as soon as possible, he followed the aide back to his office. As soon as he saw Daniel’s face, he knew that something was about to change—he could only hope it was for the good.

  In typical good news/bad news fashion, Daniel first brought his friend up to speed on the breakthrough that meant that if the researchers could work fast enough, they could halt the spread of the virus, not alleviate it but halt it. He attempted to explain, but the president could see that something was distressing him. Daniel’s face didn’t match the good news.

  “What’s troubling you, Daniel?” he said, abruptly, interrupting the lecture.

  “There’s more news.”

  “Spill it.”

  “The virus seems to have mutated there in the States. Sarah’s a victim.”

  Harper uttered an expletive, then gave Daniel his condolences. “That’s tough, my friend. I’m so sorry.”