The Manhattan Incident

by Raymond Poincelot

  4. VIDEO: THE INCIDENT, Day 5 through 7, PI

  VIDEO: THE INCIDENT. The Learjet C-21A touched down at a runway in Area 51 that ran parallel to runway 14R/32L. General Straub and his team were met by a few Jeep transports and whisked away. Their luggage was loaded and transported to their new living quarters. The vehicles with Straub’s team stopped with the luggage and the passengers entered their new base housing. The Jeep with General Straub continued on to the building that housed General Douglas’ office. General Straub entered the office and saluted General Douglas who returned the salute.

  General Straub said, “Here are your new orders and my authorization to assume control of Area 51. Before you read them, we need to talk and reach an understanding concerning the change.” “General Straub, that won’t be necessary; the President decided and it is not mine to question why.” “Still, I am sorry to take charge. Your defense of Area 51 was excellent.” “General Straub, your defense of the nation showed superb defensive strategy.” “General Douglas, you need to understand that this change does not have anything to do with your leadership here. That’s not the reason for the change. If I were to ask you what is your strength, your raison d'être?” “It would be weapons development above all, General Straub.” “What would you say my strength was?” ”I would say defensive strategy.” “That explains why you are being promoted by one more star and being assigned only one duty, weapons development in Area 51.” With that General Straub pinned another star on General Douglas who had an astounded look on his face.

  “I will then be free to concentrate totally on strategies to defeat the aliens should they return. Your weapons will help me do that. I am depending on you. More immediately, I have to manage the national response to the alien bio-weapon, the Blue Flu virus. You have the only remaining P-4 lab facility. Shortly a military cargo transport will land here. On it will be one of the few CDC epidemiologists still alive at this time. Unfortunately, he has the virus. We are going to do everything in our power to save him. For that I will place the lab and its personnel under my direct control. Oh, on another cargo transport coming later, we also have one dead and one living alien, not to mention a captured alien vessel roughly equivalent to our jet fighters. You will need to gear up your engineers in a round the clock operation to reverse engineer the craft, lasers, the targeting systems, the protective armor of the vessel, the body armor of the aliens, and the laser pistol and rifle. Tell me what you need after your team looks it over. Given the need, funds will flow in your direction as per Presidential agreement. I will also be making some facility and personnel changes. I have brought in my own team.”

  “Thank you General Straub. This is an unexpected honor and a windfall. I can’t wait. Who will be in charge of information extraction from the alien, if that is even possible?” General Straub looked pleased at the question. “I have authorized promotion of one of my team members. He is Colonel Lanzo now and will be put in charge of Military Intelligence for the United States. His most important project will be the alien. His title will be Director of MI. In plain English, your success with weapons development and his alien information gain will shape our defensive strategy for the near future.” Both men shook hands feeling good about the outcome. It was a win-win for both.

  Several hours later the C-12 Huron, a military passenger and cargo transport plane, touched down on runway 14R/32L in Area 51 effortlessly in the video. The runway cut across Groom Lake on the north of Area 51. Groom Lake was actually a salt flat and appeared whitish from the open cargo door. All of the crew, escorts, Roxanne’s container, and Dr. John Cabrot in his bio-protective suit were subjected to chemical disinfectant washes and UV light in a specially made portable sterilizing unit that was wheeled directly to the C-12s door. All but Dr. Cabrot stepped out of their suits and placed their protective gear and clothing into red thick plastic bags which were taken away to a high temperature incinerator. Everyone except Dr. Cabrot was then subjected to further body washes and UV treatments, hot air dried and then issued new clothing. No one was taking any chances with the alien virus entering the base. The plane itself was sealed tightly and sprayed everywhere on the exterior with bleach and then towed to a runway area as far removed as possible from the buildings. Once the virus viability on surface areas was determined in the labs below ground, the fate of the plane would be decided. If the virus was like the typical flu virus, the plane would be salvageable.

  Dr. Cabrot, after being sprayed and UV treated, but still in his bio-protective suit, was allowed to walk into the building. Roxanne’s surface sterilized container was on top of a wheeled cart pushed by Joe. Lisa walked alongside the cart. All of them entered an elevator and descended for some time. From the elevator they walked down a hall to a door. Upon entering the door while pushing the cart as he was told to do, Dr. Cabrot saw another door. John realized it was an airlock. The two privates remained outside the closed first door and a third man joined them. He was wearing a white coat. He spoke into the intercom near the outside door while looking through the window at John. “Dr. Cabrot, I am Dr. Ralph Miller. I’m here to attend to your medical needs. First press the black button to your right. When the red light turns green, the inner door will open and you will enter the room.” John did as he was told and could hear motors. He saw the inner door slide open and saw the thick rubbery seals all around the frame. John entered the room, pushing the cart before him. As the door closed, he heard other motors and surmised that the air in the airlock was undergoing chemical disinfection by mist, then UV light, and finally HEPA filtration. The operation wasn’t any different from what he knew at the CDC when dealing with infectious diseases. The difference was, unlike at the CDC, he was the infected one.

  “John, you may remove your protective gear and clothing. Place them in the big red box in the corner of the room. There is a privacy screen there. Put on the white coverall, underwear socks and slippers you’ll find there. I’m sorry about the poor fit; it is one size fits all. After that you can let the dog out of the bio-crate.” John did as he was told. A very groggy Roxanne immediately urinated on the floor. As he emerged from behind the screen, Dr. Miller continued. “There is a bathroom and shower in the back of your room. Get cleaned up. You’ll also find some disposable diapers in the bathroom. Use them to clean up the dog urine and other waste later. Put them in the big red box too. I’ll be back in a while and come into the room to check you out medically. Please keep the dog on the tether, as I don’t want her to jump on me and rip my suit. I won’t be happy if I have to join you in the room. Before I go, do you need anything?” “Yes,” said John. “It’s pretty much breakfast time back in Vermont. I would like some coffee, juice, toast and scrambled eggs. I’m also on 20 mg omeprazole for my GERD. I really need it soon. Thanks.”

  When John emerged from the shower, he saw Dr. Miller in the room wearing a full bio-hazard pressure suit with its trailing airline plugged into the wall. On the small table was a tray of food and a white paper cup filled with water next to his capsule of omeprazole. John smiled as he saw the open can of dog food and the bowl for Roxanne. Roxanne was still dozing in the corner from the effects of the tranquilizer. “Thanks, from both of us,” said John as he swallowed the capsule. Dr. Miller then spoke. “John, OK if I call you John?” “Sure,” said Dr. Cabrot. “May I call you Ralph?” “Sure. Don’t eat anything yet. We need to do a fasting blood workup on you. Besides, I’m sure you know that the omeprazole should be taken about 30 minutes prior to breakfast. Give me your right arm.” Ralph was very fast and John barely felt the needle ease into his vein. “We’ll also need a blood draw on Roxanne.” John said, “Give me the needle and vials. It would be better if I did it. She doesn’t know you well enough yet. Roxanne whimpered a little as John drew the blood. “I’m sorry, Girl.” He handed the vials to Ralph.

  “Ralph, do you have a diagnostic test for the alien virus?” “Yes, John, we do. We got some blood samples from patients before they died in Los Angeles and New York. We have sinc
e developed a serology test, which checks a blood sample for antibodies against the virus. We also have a ribonucleic acid test for the Blue Flu virus. We’ll run those tests right away. Now enjoy your breakfast.” He thought to himself, the Blue Flu virus, huh? I guess that’s as good a name as any, given the bluish cast on the woman who died near me. John quickly ate his breakfast after the half hour was up. Even the coffee couldn’t compensate for the tiredness that crept over his body. John thought given the impossibility of sleeping earlier in the bio-protection suit, no wonder he was tired. John went to the bed in the room and pulled up the covers. He promptly fell asleep. He was awakened by a tongue licking his face some hours later. “You must be hungry, Roxanne. I’ll give you some food.” Roxanne wolfed the food down and started whining. “I know; you want your walk. We’ll have to stay cooped up for a while. Sorry Roxanne.” Roxanne looked at him with her big brown eyes and went to the corner. She started circling the area. John groaned and headed for the shower. He would deal with the mess later.

  The scene panned from John to Dr. Miller’s cubicle office. “Damn,” he explained as he read the lab report. John tested positive for the Blue Flu virus. He called General Straub in another part of the underground complex. “General, I have bad news. Dr. Cabrot checks out positive for the Blue Flu virus. I assume you know that no one infected with it has survived to date.” General Straub answered. “I can’t tell you how important it is that he lives. We desperately need his expertise to deal with this virus. Do everything in your power to prevent his death, even if it is an experimental drug or technique.” “You know I will, General.”

  Dr. Miller hung up and thought about his options. There was a more potent version of Tamaflu that had been under development in the labs here. While not researching biological weapons, the Area 51 labs were working on things to keep the military functioning. These activities ran the gamut from deliberate exposure to biological weapons in a battle situation or the accidental exposure to flu that seemed to be a winter constant. He picked up the phone. “Nurse Harrington, go to the bio-response lab and ask Dr. McKinlay for some antiviral Diminaflu for human trial. He’ll undoubtedly say no, but tell him Dr. Miller, under General Straub’s orders, must have it. If he gives you grief, have him call me. No, better yet, tell him to call the new General in charge, Straub.”

  Nurse Harrington was being rebuffed. Dr. McKinlay was clearly hostile to her request and she had to play the General card. Still not willing to believe her or provide it, Dr. McKinlay picked up his phone. “General Straub, this is Dr. McKinlay in the bio-response lab. I have a request from Dr. Miller to dispense Diminaflu for human use. I am unwilling to do it, as it hasn’t cleared all the safety tests, never mind the clinical trials. I also have no approval by General Douglas.” Dr. McKinlay winced. “Yes, Sir, I understand. You are now in charge and not General Douglas. However, I want it on record that I do not recommend its use at this time.” He walked over to the refrigerator marked with the biohazard sign and opened the door. He pulled out a bottle with a few dozen capsules in it. “The suggested dosage is two capsules daily with food at breakfast and dinner. For the first day, you could start at lunch and dinner. The dosage should continue until all flu symptoms are gone. While I don’t approve, tell Dr. Miller that I wish to be informed of the outcome. At least it will be another piece of data.”

  Nurse Harrington gave the bottle to Dr. Miller. He asked about the dosage and how it went. She explained that Dr. McKinlay was reluctant and needed a push from the General. “He also wants to be kept in the loop.” Dr. Miller smiled. “The sanctimonious bastard; he wants no blood or blame on his hands, but wants to see how the patient responds.” Dr. Miller looked at the monitor on his desk. It showed John sound asleep in a chair in his room. Roxanne was curled up nearby at the tether’s limit. “Ok. I’ll let him sleep until lunchtime. Give me a call when you go to wake him. We’ll go together with his food and the Diminaflu.”

  John awoke to hand pressure on his shoulder. He looked up at two bio-suited individuals. Roxanne had the tether to its limit. Her tail was wagging. She so much wanted to meet and greet the visitors. “Hi, John, this is Ralph again and Nurse Roberta Harrington. She’ll be your day nurse. We want to start you on medication. Take the capsule when you have finished your lunch.” “Ralph, I was never one to beat around the bush. Are the lab results back? I assume the pill has something to do with flu, hopefully the normal kind.”

  “John, I’m not going to sugar coat it. You were seropositive for the Blue Flu virus. The capsule contains an experimental antiviral which we call Diminaflu.” “Shit,” said John. “What is the known fatality rate with the Blue Flu virus?” “John, we only have a limited number of cases and the numbers aren’t what we would call statistically significant yet. I’m sure they’ll get better as the case numbers climb.” “What’s the number?” said John with surprising firmness. “I worked at the CDC. I have a right to know.” “John, 100% to date, but you shouldn’t worry. They only got Tamaflu. You’re getting a greatly improved version. Since it is experimental, I’ll need your consent. To be honest, even if you say no, you’re going to get it anyway. General Straub seems intent on keeping you around.” John smiled. “Since I have no interest in dying yet, I’ll consent.” “Good,” said Ralph. “I’ll leave you now, but Nurse Harrington will stay for a while. Make sure you take the capsule.” For the first time, John noticed the cameras in the room corners. He laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be watching me take the capsule. Wait, what about Roxanne?” “She’s negative, as you would say, no big surprise.”

  John swallowed the capsule with water. He ate his lunch, but didn’t feel as hungry as usual. Given his love of food, he worried. It could be a sign of the flu. He felt a little warm. John looked at Nurse Harrington. “I feel hot. Take my temperature.” Nurse Harrington used the infrared noncontact thermometer. “John, you have a fever. It is 101 degrees right now. I’ll get an IV to keep you hydrated and some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” John heard the cycling of the air lock. John started to doze off, but awakened with a start as he heard the air lock cycle. The inner door opened and Nurse Harrington wheeled over the IV and the medicine tray. “John, take the ibuprofen now.” John swallowed them with water. His throat started to feel raspy. He imagined he could hear the air supply hissing as the suit air hose provided internal air to Nurse Harrington.

  “I’m going to set up the IV now. Bear with me. It’s not easy to do with the suit on and I don’t want to stick my hand with the needle. Lay your arm out flat and be patient.” Nurse Harrington wiped his arm with an alcohol swab and then brought the needle close to the inside of John’s elbow joint. With her other hand she stretched the skin and slid the needle in as the vein became visible. She taped the line and needle in place. “John, I mean Dr. Cabrot; I’ll be back with a heart and blood pressure monitor.” John answered, “Please call me John.” He looked at her name tag. If you don’t mind, I would like to call you Roberta?” Roberta smiled and said, “Sure.” Once again the air lock cycled and then again in a short while. Roberta hooked up the monitor and turned it on. “John, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll be nearby. If you need me, give a yell on the intercom.” Roberta thought to herself as she left. Don’t get attached. He’s probably going to die like all the others. The scene switched to the salt flat runway.

  The Lockheed C-5 Galaxy military transport touched down on the same runway where the C-12 Huron had previously landed. The plane and its bio-suited occupants, the Delta Force unit, were all decontaminated as was the cargo. The cargo vanished rapidly into a cavernous hanger where it was placed into a few special isolation rooms. The gurney with the living alien in a bio-suit was rapidly trundled to another isolation room. The escort placed the gurney on the floor and undid the belts rapidly and re-entered the airlock. They were decontaminated, whereupon they stepped out of their suits. They placed the suits in the red box and then stood still while being subjected to UV sterilizing rays. Only then did they leave the air
lock. Armed guards were already stationed outside the room.

  Elsewhere John ate his dinner, even though the food held no interest whatsoever. He took his Diminaflu. He felt like shit. He picked up one of the magazines they left in the room for him. It was a recent issue of the Economist. He started to read the article entitled “Will the lockdown save our major cities?” A few paragraphs in, the magazine slipped from his hand and John fell into a fitful sleep. He had bad dreams that night. Aliens armed with syringes full of deadly viruses were chasing him. Suddenly he dreamt of peeing. Normally that woke him up and he would go the bathroom for his twice night urination. This time he didn’t wake up. What he didn’t know then was that a sedative was slipped into the IV bag and later a catheter was slipped into his penis and the bag was now collecting his urine.

  He was awakened at what seemed like dawn with breakfast and more Diminaflu. His familiar omeprazole was also there. He felt even worse than shit. Every muscle, every joint seemed to ache. He couldn’t get out of bed. A constant flow of mucus was trickling down his throat. He felt a twinge of heartburn. He couldn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. It was then that he noticed the catheter. He didn’t like it one bit. Hopefully he wouldn’t get a urinary tract infection. Then he thought that would be the least of my worries, given that I feel like I’m dying. Roberta spoke. “Take your pills, and then eat. If you need to have a bowel movement, I’ll bring a bed pan.” John grimaced at that image.

  “Roberta, I’m feeling some heartburn even with the omeprazole. Please bring me a second capsule.” “I’m not sure you should take two, but I’ll ask Dr. Miller.” She picked up the intercom and spoke. “Dr. Miller, John wants a second omeprazole. Says he has heartburn. He’ll have no stomach acid at that rate. Will it interfere with the absorption of Diminaflu?” “Give it to him. Give him two every day for as long as he wants it. It will not impact the absorption of Diminaflu. Let’s keep him as comfortable as possible.” John thought, Yah, keep him comfortable. The poor bastard is dying. “Thanks, Roberta. I have one more favor to ask. I can’t seem to get up and feed Roxanne or clean up after her. Might you be willing to do so?” Roberta looked at him and said, “Yes, don’t worry. Roxanne will be fine.”