Perimeter

by M. A. Rothman

  Kathy’s eyes welled with tears. “Because of the trial, Juan. I accidentally drank some of my dad’s medicine, and I—” Her voice broke, and she sobbed.

  Juan’s face flushed red. “I’m so sorry. I had absolutely no idea…” He shut his mouth and glanced at Nate nervously. Then he composed himself, checked her over just like he had done with the other patients, and finally handed her the pipette.

  She blew into it. Both Nate and Juan watched closely as the LED flashed with its results.

  She’d tested positive.

  As Juan wrote down her results, his face was a storm of emotions. It was clear to Nate that not only did the doctor know this young woman, he felt something for her.

  As soon as she had departed, Nate asked the airman outside the door to give them a few minutes. Then he turned to Juan.

  “How do you know her?”

  Juan’s eyes were bloodshot. He was visibly upset. “It’s complicated. I guess I mostly met her at a speaking engagement. And then we saw each other a bit at Georgetown.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s my fault she’s here. Her father was dying of cancer, and so I told her about a trial. If I hadn’t passed on information about that trial I knew nothing about, she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t be infected!”

  Nate put his arm across Juan’s shoulder and gave him a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry, Doc. I know this has to be a real gut punch for you. Do you need a drink?”

  Juan let out a long breath and shook his head. “No. No, let’s just get this over with.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  Juan stared at Nate. “Even if I’m not, it doesn’t matter. We’re running out of time.”

  ###

  As the last patient of the day left, Juan scribbled one more note on the patient roster and shook his head. He felt nauseated by the results.

  “Five,” he said. “Out of nearly two hundred patients, only five didn’t test positive for the treatment. Only five!”

  And Kathy. Kathy was positive, too.

  And she would be dead in days.

  “I know that’s not what you were hoping for,” Nate said. “But that’s still five lives. Five people who will be able to go home because of what you’ve done today.”

  The agent had watched silently all day. Juan wondered how much he knew. Did he know that the illegal human trials had been what Steve had been working on? And what else had he not divulged?

  Juan’s thoughts drifted to Steve, his former friend, and a murderous sense of impotent rage flooded through him. He’d referred Kathy’s father to that monster’s program without a single bit of apprehension. And even though a miracle had been performed with her father, Kathy was now infected.

  Juan’s throat tightened when he thought of her. The idea that she’d be killed in less than nine days was too much for him. His vision blurred and he angrily wiped his eyes. “I needed to do more.”

  “You still can. That’s why we brought you in. To help us stop this thing.”

  “We don’t have that kind of time!” Juan blurted—and immediately regretted it. Nate might not know about the president’s plan. And even if he did know… well, Juan wasn’t supposed to.

  “What are you talking about?” Nate asked.

  Juan bit down on his lower lip. “I just… I mean, I just don’t know how long my work might take, or what might happen to these people in the meantime. Everyone’s healthy enough now, but we don’t know how long that will last. And I need to help these people now.”

  “Listen to me, Juan.” Nate’s voice was soft yet firm. “I may not have a clue about what you’re dealing with on a technical level, but I’m pretty good at general problem-solving. Would it help if we talked things over? Perhaps a layperson’s perspective would give you a fresh look at things.”

  Juan took a deep shuddering breath. It wasn’t the worst idea. “I suppose I’m open to that.”

  “Great.” Nate turned his chair so he directly faced Juan. “Okay, you want to create a cure for this virus. Explain to me why it’s so hard.” He gave a lopsided grin. “And try to use language I can understand.”

  Juan shrugged. “It’s an extremely complicated issue. I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Okay then, let me start. Tell me this: why can’t you just give people an inoculation? They do that for the flu and stuff, right?”

  “They do,” Juan said. “But inoculations aren’t cures, they’re a preventative measure. An inoculation injects you with an inactivated or weakened virus, which causes your body to create a built-in immunity, so you can fight off the stronger virus if you ever come in contact with it. That’s good for a short period of time, maybe even a few years, but it doesn’t help you if you’re already infected. But an inoculation doesn’t help you if you’re already infected. You don’t get a flu shot when you already have the flu.”

  “Okay,” Nate responded. “So, I know that antibiotics don’t work against things like the flu. That’s because it’s a virus not a bacterial infection, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Then, when you get the flu, you’re usually stuck with the flu for a week or two. Now that these folks aren’t dosing themselves with more of the virus, shouldn’t they be getting better?”

  “No, that’s not how this kind of virus works.” Juan raked his hand through his hair. “How can I put this… When the flu or most other viruses infect you, they typically invade a cell, take over the cell’s resources to reproduce, and then blow the cell up, with lots of copies of the virus spreading to infect other cells in the body. Eventually, the body recognizes the invaders and starts to fight back. With this virus, that’s not how it goes. With the kind of virus we use for gene therapy, the virus invades a cell.” Juan spread his fingers on both hands and meshed them together as he explained, “When the virus invades, the pieces of DNA that it carries merge with the DNA in that cell. The cell isn’t otherwise damaged, it’s modified. What you end up with is essentially an updated version of the cell. When it divides, the merged DNA splits and you have two copies of the infected cell. The body never knows any different.”

  Nate crossed his legs and tapped his fingers on his knee. “Okay, so that means the virus is introducing new DNA into the body. And once that bell is rung, you don’t know how to unring it, right?”

  Juan nodded. “Unfortunately, that’s exactly it. If I understood what all of the changes and additions were that this virus had done, maybe I’d be able to figure out how to fix the changes, but the volume of changes is massive.”

  “Does the virus tell you what it changed? How it changed it?”

  “It does,” Juan said, feeling aggravated. This exercise was proving fruitless. “But I have no idea what any of it means. I can’t just undo what it did.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…” Juan paused as he struggled to answer the agent’s question. “Because…”

  And he suddenly thought of something he’d never considered. He stared blankly for a moment, then an electric thrill raced through him.

  He jumped to his feet. “Holy shit! I think… no… yes, I think I can do this. I just need their old DNA, from before the infection! If I could just get one, as a test—”

  Nate’s eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light as he smiled. “I bet Katherine O’Reilly’s mother has an old hairbrush or something. Her house is only an hour away.”

  “How do you know that? No, never mind, just—yes, that’ll work for a test case.” Juan’s mind was racing.

  “Good. While you get on that, I’ll head to the Vegas office and look into getting blood samples, or whatever other DNA samples I can track down, for everyone else. These people were all cancer patients admitted into a clinical trial, so odds are good they had plenty of stuff taken.”

  Juan glanced at his watch. His heart was threatening to pound out of his chest. “Okay, I’ll get the DNA sample for Kathy, and then I need to get back to the l
ab asap. I have so little time.”

  Nate tilted his head curiously as he said, “I’ll see about booking a flight out of Nellis Air Force Base. I’m sure with what’s going on, I’ll get approval for a military transport to Andrews so you can get back without any delays.” He walked toward the exit and motioned for Juan to follow. “Come on. Let’s get you a ride to Ash Springs. Trust me, we have Mrs. O’Reilly’s address.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Two hours later he was bouncing along a dirt road in the middle of a three-SUV convoy. He’d never seen so much of nothing in one place. It was nearing sunset, and to the horizon, there was nothing but mottled green-and-brown undergrowth, with no sign of human existence.

  But finally, a ranch-style house appeared right in the middle of this nowhere. And as the SUVs slowed to a stop in front of a well-maintained single-story home, he saw his first sign of human life: an older woman who stepped out onto the porch with a stern expression on her face and a shotgun on her hip. Next to her stood a dark-brown dog the size of a Great Dane, but more broadly built.

  Juan lowered his window. “Mrs. O’Reilly?”

  “I’m Megan O’Reilly,” the woman said, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Mrs. O’Reilly, I just came from seeing Kathy—”

  “Horsefeathers! She’s not around for you—”

  “Mrs. O’Reilly, my name is Dr. Gutierrez. I just came from giving Kathy a checkup. I saw your husband as well.”

  The dog began lumbering toward the car with his tail wagging.

  “Jasper, hang back,” Megan ordered.

  The dog froze, remaining on the porch as she approached.

  Kathy’s mom lowered her weapon when she was no more than ten feet away. She glanced at the other SUVs as they pulled behind Juan’s car. “Do you have some ID?”

  Juan pulled out his FBI contractor’s badge and his AgriMed business card. Megan walked forward, took them both, and studied them with a frown.

  She held up the AgriMed card. “My daughter had one of these cards with her when she last visited.” She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “She told me about you, and you know what, I think I recognize your voice. You called here a couple of times.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did. And now I’m here to try to help Kathy and your husband.”

  Megan turned back toward the house and said over her shoulder, “Well, don’t just stay out here in the dirt. Come on in. I’ll fix you a lemonade and we can talk.” She gestured toward the agents who’d piled out of their vehicles. “Them too. I’ve got enough lemonade for everyone.”

  One of the stone-faced agents leaned into Juan’s car and said, “We’ll take a quick look around first and then wait out here for you.”

  Juan blinked at the woman, who in a heartbeat had gone from aiming a shotgun at him to inviting him and a bunch of FBI agents in for lemonade.

  These O’Reilly women were an unpredictable bunch.

  ###

  The agents elected to stay outside, which was probably for the best. Juan needed to talk to Megan about her family, and it was better to do that without a bunch of men taking over her living room.

  She poured them two glasses of ice-cold lemonade, and they sat at the dining room table.

  Juan took a sip—and puckered.

  Megan smiled at his reaction. “I don’t like it too sweet, you see.”

  “No, I like it this way.”

  “Liar.” She laughed and shook her head. “Just like my Frank. I can tell when he’s full of it.” She took a long pull of her own lemonade and set the sweating glass aside. “Now tell me what’s going on. Those men came and took my Frank, and then my baby girl, and no one has told me a damn thing!”

  “I’m sorry about that, Mrs. O’Reilly, I—”

  “Call me Megan.”

  “Megan… I’m afraid I’m the reason for all of this. Because I told Kathy about that trial. The medicine your husband took was… experimental. And it’s caused some concerns.”

  “Concerns?” Megan looked panicked.

  “I don’t want to alarm you, Mrs. O—I mean Megan. Unfortunately, I can’t go into the specifics. But I can assure you I’m doing everything I can to help. And to do that, I need some DNA for Kathy or Frank, from before they took the medicine. A strand of hair. A toothbrush that hasn’t been used in a long time. But again, it has to have been from before they took the medicine.”

  “But why Kathy? She didn’t take the medicine.”

  “I understand she may have drunk some of it by accident?”

  “She did,” Mrs. O’Reilly confirmed. “I remember exactly when it happened, but I think it was only that one time.”

  “That seems to be all it needed. The thing is, I’m trying the best I can to see if I can do something to fix it. To do that, I need some DNA from the time before they got their treatment.

  Megan took a deep breath. Then she stood. “Follow me, Dr. Gutierrez.”

  He smiled. “Call me Juan.”

  She led him to a bedroom that was clearly being used solely for storage. It was full of boxes and crates. Some were open, and Juan saw knives, antique guns, photo albums, carved wooden figures, and more.

  “Excuse the mess. This is where I store lots of my knickknacks and such,” Megan said as she rummaged through the boxes.

  After a moment she huffed with frustration, looked up on one of the shelves and motioned toward a cardboard box roughly four times the size of a photo album that was just out of her reach. “Can you be a dear and get that box down? I think I’ve got some of Kathy’s baby stuff in there.”

  Reaching up to the top shelf, Juan carefully retrieved the box and handed it to Megan.

  She sat on the middle of the floor, cross-legged, and unfolded the top of the cardboard box. She dug around and suddenly smiled as she extracted a small Ziploc bag that had a tiny lock of red hair tied with a pink bow. “Aww, this is from my baby’s first haircut.” She looked up at Juan and asked, “Would this work?”

  Juan studied the sample. “Unfortunately, no. The stuff I need is only going to be in the root of the hair. You know when a hair accidentally pulls out, and you can see a whitish root on the end? Maybe if you have an old hairbrush of Kathy’s?”

  “Well I wouldn’t have kept an old hairbrush. Would anything else work? What about her baby teeth?”

  Juan’s eyes widened. “Yes! That would be perfect!”

  She dug into the box and pulled out another Ziploc, this one filled with teeth. “Will I get these back? I know it’s silly, but I remember the moment each and every one of these teeth came out.”

  “Yes, I think so. But I might need to keep one or two. What I need to get is buried inside the teeth.”

  “Well, if it’ll help Kathy and Frank.”

  “It will.”

  “And you could use something from Frank too?”

  “If you have it.”

  “Well, I don’t have any of his old hair or teeth, obviously. But I was just thinking, I have some blood. He caught himself on a nail around this time last year, ripping a big hole in his flannel shirt and getting blood on it. It was pointless to stitch it up, so I was going to cut it up and use it for rags, but I never got around to it. Would that work?”

  “As long it hasn’t been washed.”

  “I can guarantee that if I didn’t wash it, it didn’t get washed. Come on then.”

  In minutes, Juan had the two DNA samples he needed, bagged up separately.

  “Thank you for everything, Mrs. O’Reilly. I promise I’m working night and day to help your family.”

  “It’s Megan, and I know you are.” Megan tilted her head, and her green eyes, the same green as Kathy’s, blazed brightly. “And before you go… well, Kathy would be furious at me for saying this, but I think you should know. I told you she mentioned you once or twice? The truth is, it was a bit more than that.”

  Juan felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

  �
�And you know,” Megan continued, “she never talked about boys. Even when she was in high school and I knew she was going out with Johnny Pilmachek, she never talked about him. And she sure as heck didn’t talk about them after she moved away. But she did talk about you. That’s really something.” She smiled. “Anyway. I’m glad to make your acquaintance, Juan.”

  ###

  Using high-powered night-vision binoculars, Nate peered out the window of the second-story walk-up. It was nearly eleven p.m., and they’d been here for two hours with no sign of movement at the warehouse across the way.

  “Are you sure they’re in there?”

  “One hundred percent,” said one of the other agents on the team. “We’ve got seven targets showing on thermal, and intel confirms that one of them is Müller. Bastard’s got diplomatic immunity, but as long as we’ve got the go-ahead from the higher-ups, to hell with that immunity shit.”

  Another agent, a former spook wearing headphones, cut in. “Guys, we’ve got a hostage.”

  Nate returned his attention to his binoculars. He still saw nothing, but the agent with headphones didn’t need to. The man was picking up the sound from within the warehouse by using an infrared laser aimed across the street, detecting the audio vibrations on one of the warehouse skylights.

  “What are you hearing? Do you know who it is?”

  The man shook his head. “It’s a woman. She’s crying. They’re asking her about Gutierrez and what they’ve been working on.”

  “Shit.” Nate felt the muscles in his neck tighten. “Swap out your magazines with the ones I brought loaded with frangibles. If there’s shooting, make each shot count, and don’t off our hostage.”

  Nate turned back to the former spook. “Ears, do you have a location on—”

  “Shit, boss. She just fed them some bullshit about Gutierrez going to visit his mother, and I guess they know she’s lying, because now one of them is screaming in German. He’s talking about doing her.”

  “Fuck” Nate turned to the mission’s sniper. “Man the Barrett; you’ve got eyes on. Take anyone who leaves without one of us.”