by Bobby Akart
Chapter 13
Day Eighty-Two
Quandary Peak
The next day, Mac woke up invigorated. She jogged down to the checkpoint, planted a morning kiss on Hunter, and then checked on her dad’s progress. He’d slept well and was starting to get his appetite back, which was a great sign.
Flatus had shown remarkable improvement as well. He was now walking about the house and had even enjoyed half a bowl of Beneful grain-free purchased for him at Axel and Chloe’s store. At this point, Mac had no doubt her final experimental mix of vancomycin with the peptides would cure a patient in Tommy’s advanced stage after contracting the plague.
The next logical step in the process would be to perform clinical trials to test the vaccine in primates and then human volunteers. The clinical work Mac had been performing, somewhat out of despair, but mixed with luck, resulted in a pivotal moment in the life of a new medicine that would be followed by a period of gradually expanding tests on humans.
Trials on human test subjects were performed under strict oversight by the Food and Drug Administration. A principal investigator, in most cases a doctor, would administer the trials along with a team of nurses and scientists. It took months or years to do it right.
Mac made the mistake, in haste, to provide the CDC with the Bdellovibrio bacteria, or BALO, vaccine option. She’d warned them that her theory was based on her college doctoral thesis and required extensive testing to determine if it would be effective against the plague bacteria.
She had no idea that, out of desperation and political pressure, the President would tout the BALO vaccine as a cure-all. When it failed to produce the desired results, confidence in the government and the CDC to find a solution plummeted.
A month later and after a couple more billion people dead, Mac had discovered the actual cure for pneumonic plague. The challenge facing her now was who could she tell about it and whether anyone would believe her.
That morning, Mac had another problem she began to consider. She’d only shared the details of her work with her mother, who was consumed with her dad’s impending death. She doubted Barb retained anything Mac had told her. She discussed the lab experiments with Janie from time to time, but as a former veterinarian, molecular biology and genetic engineering were not exactly her bailiwick.
So Mac immediately set out to fill in her research notes and organize them to be used by others. She also created a duplicate journal to be locked in the gun safe. If something happened to her or the house, her experiments could be recreated.
As the day progressed, Hunter returned to the house and got some sleep. The two of them relaxed and talked about Tommy’s miraculous recovery. They also discussed whether they should try to make contact with the government somehow. Hunter knew quite a bit about the continuity-of-government plan and the military’s communications apparatus. He told Mac he’d give it some thought but agreed a few more days of studying Tommy’s recovery was absolutely necessary before they took any additional steps.
After Hunter had napped, he took Tommy some oatmeal for dinner. Mac also wanted to start him on an electrolyte and vitamin regimen. Hunter delivered the box of food and vitamins to Barb. Once Tommy was settled in, Barb returned to the house.
Janie greeted her with a glass of wine when she entered the living room.
“You’re an angel, Janie. Thank you.”
“I think there’s cause to celebrate, don’t you?” said Janie.
Mac joined them with one of the cold Budweisers she’d been saving for a special occasion. None of them had been in the mood for an adult beverage since Tommy became symptomatic.
“Guys,” started Mac, “there are lots of issues to discuss, but I wanna focus on Daddy’s rehab. Because the disease had advanced in his body, defeating the plague was just part of the battle. We need to start rehabilitation after the sepsis. We’ve got short-term considerations and there are also long-term effects.”
Barb sat in the leather chair by the fire Hunter had built before he left. They were experiencing a bit of a cold snap in early September, resulting in some near freezing temperatures at night.
“I’ve dealt with the short-term plan of recovery,” Barb said. “Rehab usually starts by slowly helping the patient to move around. He’s been bedridden for days. His body will be stiff and weak. We’ll want to build up his activities slowly. You know, starting with the basics like sitting up, standing, walking around, going to the bathroom. Basic daily functions around the house.”
“Should we give him a heads-up on what physical symptoms he should expect in the next few days?” asked Janie.
Barb responded, “We can, especially because I don’t want him to get discouraged by what he might think is a setback. He’s gonna be fatigued, experience shortness of breath, and have general aches and pains. Depending how bad the sepsis was within his body, he might lose more weight and even lose some of his hair.”
“Oh my, the silver fox won’t like that,” Mac said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, make no mistake,” started Barb. “He is going to be a handful. Undoubtedly the most unruly and insubordinate patient any of us will ever encounter.”
“Barb, what about continued medications? Same question to you, Mac. Does he continue the vancomycin?” asked Janie.
“Me first,” replied Mac. “I think I will continue the antibiotics for the customary fourteen days unless I see adverse reactions. The potential side effects are unknown and actually should be part of a clinical analysis.”
Barb finished her wine and Janie jumped off the sofa to quickly refill it. “Thank you, dear,” said Barb with a smile. “Mac is spot on with respect to continuation of the antibiotic regimen. Typically, surgeries would be taking place during this recovery period in order to locate and control the source of infection. Obviously, we have to rely upon Tommy and his body to fight any lingering sepsis.”
“We still have our work cut out for us,” said Mac. “Long term, Daddy might have nightmares, panic attacks, and even insomnia. The post-sepsis effects are as much mental disorders as the fatigue and joint pains.”
“That leads me to the last issue,” said Barb. “When and how do we bring Tommy home?”
“I’ve thought about this,” replied Mac. “Do you guys think he’s still contagious?”
“His clothes and the house may still have active bacteria. Tommy wouldn’t be contagious because the Y. pestis bacteria are being destroyed by the vancomycin d-ala d-lac,” surmised Janie.
“I agree,” said Barb. “He’ll recover much faster here in comfortable surroundings. We can monitor him more closely as well. Whadya think?”
“Trust me, I want him home now, but we have to be careful,” said Mac. “Let’s give it two more days. We’ll closely monitor his vitals and the post-sepsis complications. He’ll regain his strength for the trip home by becoming more mobile at the quarantine house.”
“What about the house and the bedding, etcetera?” asked Janie.
“It’s gotta go,” replied Mac. “I’ll have Hunter take care of it.”
“And Flatus?” asked Janie.
“Daddy made it clear the two guys are a package deal,” replied Mac. “I don’t see why they can’t both come home together.”
Barb nodded her agreement, as did Janie. The ladies clinked their wineglasses to close the consult about the most important patients in their lives.
Chapter 14
Day Eighty-Two
Bay of Fundy
Lubec, Maine
Military strategy and tactics are essential to the conduct of warfare. Strategy involves planning, coordination, and the direction of your resources to meet both military and political objectives. Tactics is an art form. The great tacticians on the battlefield are able to make quick, short-term decisions regarding troop movement and the deployment of weapons in order to gain an advantage.
The great military theorist Carl von Clausewitz once said tactics is the art of using troops in battle, but strategy is the art
of using battles to win the war. Throughout history, especially as the technological age advanced military capabilities, tactics became better known as operational strategy. It became difficult to differentiate between strategy and tactics as they became one and the same due to advanced technology and a third, overarching objective—geopolitical relations.
With advanced technology at their disposal, nation-states like Russia used cyber warfare as a precursor to a ground war. Their intelligence services used cyber tools to disrupt the critical infrastructure of a nation, as they did in Estonia, Georgia, and Ukraine. Their next step was to initiate a hot war, where they could easily overtake a country while its government was in disarray.
Abu Hassan was a student of war. He’d studied Genghis Khan, Julius Caesar, and Sun Tzu from ancient times. He admired Napoleon, Patton, Rommel, and Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest, who had one primary strategy—get there first with the most men.
When Hassan and his son had devised the strategy for the war on the West, the final jihad, they envisioned a two-pronged approach. In the past, they’d relied upon psychological warfare via social media.
Terror absolutely worked, despite what Western politicians proclaimed with words touting a nation’s resolve and lack of fear. Public beheadings and executions grabbed the attention of Western media looking to make headlines.
The final jihad took a different strategy. The Islamic State’s social media prowess was not used. Instead, they successfully killed off the bulk of the infidels through his son’s ingenious plan to use bioterrorism. The scheme worked far greater than Hassan envisioned. It was a battle tactic that surpassed America’s nuclear arsenal in its ability to inflict collateral damage on the enemy and their citizens.
While the likely death of al-Baghdadi in the nuclear attack was unfortunate, it only served to strengthen the resolve of tens of thousands of ISIS fighters around the world. With Western civilization and the infidels that inhabit it on the brink of extinction, it was time for Hassan and his jihadists to sneak in without detection to deal the final blow.
The next phase of his strategy came at a tremendous risk to his fighters. Prior to the initiation of the bioterror attack that spread the pneumonic plague like wildfire throughout the planet, communications with his fighters went dark. Four days ago, that changed with these words—nahn qadimun, we are coming.
Hassan’s ship sailed the thirty-four hundred miles across the North Atlantic to the Bay of Fundy, a body of water on the northeast coast of Maine and tucked between two provinces of Canada. There he would reunite with the largest number of ISIS sleeper cells in the world.
Canada was proud of its achievements in creating an open society, welcoming to all, especially Syrian refugees in their time of need. While America focused on protecting its southern border, Canada quickly became the interim destination of choice for radical jihadists.
ISIS efforts in Canada were hugely successful in advancing the caliphate. Their leadership effectively spread the concept of jihadism among the faithful. Sharia law was adopted throughout most of the Muslim community in Canada.
Their biggest success of all was in their recruitment of misfits, especially disillusioned youth. It was easy, actually. Hassan instructed his key operatives to use a tactic that preyed upon young Canadian men.
He’d have his operatives say, “You’re sixteen years old. You don’t have a girlfriend. You’re not doing well in school. Your family is either on your case or ignoring you altogether. We’ll send you to Syria. We’ll give you a concubine and you can have sex all the time. Do you want adventure? We’ll give you a gun to shoot at people. When you’re ready, we’ll send you back to Canada, or even better, how about we get you a place in the United States? Just remember who your real friends are.”
The recruiting technique was simple, but it worked. Thousands of ISIS terrorists in Canada had avoided the pandemic as instructed. They’d assembled their teams and weaponry as Hassan’s strategy dictated.
Hassan and al-Baghdadi made alliances with al-Qaeda and Hamas. Their loyalists worldwide were brought into the fold. However, the biggest number of recruits came from within the Muslim religion. There were hundreds of thousands of Muslim faithful who believed in the concept of Sharia and the establishment of a caliphate, but who disagreed with the radical jihadist tactics.
As the pandemic widened across the planet, those Muslims on the fence joined the jihadists as they sought safety and protection from the disease. They were told it would come with a price—follow us or you will be cast out among the diseased infidels. Most chose jihad.
When the American NSA was at full strength, they claimed to have eyes on the bulk of Muslim extremist travelers who’d returned to Canada and the United States as part of the Islamic State’s migration into North America.
But the NSA was not at full strength, nor were any of the other moving parts within the nation’s intelligence apparatus. His operatives could move at will without the threat of detection by law enforcement for so long as they could avoid being infected. One of the potentially fatal flaws in Hassan’s strategy was the probability his fighters could contract the disease.
He overcame this by preparing all of them mentally and financially to avoid outside human contact through social distancing. He cautioned them in advance to be prepared for radio silence for many weeks. Over the years, ISIS had acquired thousands of portable satellite communication devices, using devices made by Hughes, Iridium, and Garmin. These handheld units were standard issue to his fighters.
In advance of the release of the plague by his son, his fighters were instructed on the protective gear to purchase and the proper techniques for avoiding the disease. Hassan had no illusions as to the troop strength he’d have to work with. He was sure to have attrition before and after the implementation of the second phase.
It didn’t matter. His jihadists were willing to die for the caliphate. They had the element of surprise. Their primary target—American military installations—most likely made his task easier. He was beginning to receive intelligence from around the country. The conclusion was predictable.
The U.S. government protected their own first. They gathered up their military assets and bundled them together in a nice, neat package within the confines of their bases. They made a perfect target for the dirty bombs and rocket-propelled grenades his operatives had assembled.
Just as the plague marched across America’s southern border and the Mediterranean, he would lead the final jihad into America from sea to shining sea.
We are coming!
Chapter 15
Day Eighty-Three
Cheyenne Mountain
President Garcia was pleased with the change in attitude throughout his cabinet and senior advisors following his apology and words of encouragement a few days earlier. There appeared to be a renewed commitment on the part of everyone regarding a rebuilding effort. The death toll was still grim, but the losses worldwide appeared to be stabilizing.
“Andrew, you’ve kept a pulse on this,” started the President as he met with his Chief of Staff and two of his domestic cabinet members. “What’s your theory on why the estimated death toll appears to be slowing? Has another country found the cure and not told us about it? That’s a possibility, you know.”
Morse leaned back in his chair and dropped his pen on the notepad in front of him. He had aged in the two months since their arrival in Cheyenne Mountain. His eyes told the story, dark and sullen from lack of sleep and excessive worry. He was allowed to bring his wife and children into the compound, but the oldest kids and their families were scattered around the country in military installations.
“Mr. President, the plague is running out of hosts,” he answered dryly. He allowed his words to settle in on the President, who sat across from Morse next to the secretaries of Homeland Security and the Interior. Interior Secretary Rhonda Ryan had not been a regular attendee of the meetings until recently as she coordinated with DHS in identifying future sa
fe zones.
“That’s a pretty grim assessment,” said the President. “Sadly, it’s a logical determination. Those who’ve successfully survived this pandemic without our assistance are spread across the country in isolated areas where they can distance themselves from others. The vast majority of deaths in the United States have occurred in the cities and surrounding suburbs. Would you agree, Rhonda?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” replied Interior Secretary Ryan. Secretary Ryan was born and raised in Missoula, Montana, but had lived in several western states, including Denver. Prior to being named Interior Secretary, she was Idaho’s junior senator.
She continued. “Per your directives, I coordinated with DHS and military installations around the country. We began what amounted to a grid search-and-rescue mission. Using available National Guard units, we’ve deployed helicopters in areas surrounding our military bases. Under normal circumstances, we’d supplement the choppers with land assets, but we all agreed our ground units would spend more time fending off desperate, infected people than we would looking for communities of survivors.”
“How did you establish your search pattern?” asked Morse.
“Naturally, we focused on areas around the choppers’ base of operations,” replied Secretary Ryan. “Without stretching their fuel and range capabilities, we identified small towns with populations from five hundred to five thousand.”
“Why did you limit your options?” asked President Garcia.
“In my conversations with DHS, I learned that most municipalities greater than five thousand were too large to cordon off and they experienced a much higher rate of death than those with a lesser population. We targeted towns larger than five hundred because they’d be most likely to have multifamily housing and medical facilities. Smaller towns would be able to sustain an influx of American refugees.”