by Bobby Akart
“My office has been made privy to communications from within China that the Tibetan Autonomous Region and its capital city of Lhasa, in particular, is under siege by this novel virus. The circumstances there are so dire and the cover-up so extensive that the Chinese CDC has expelled our personnel from their facility and locked them down in the U.S. Embassy. Further, they purposefully put out misinformation that the source of the virus is yak meat. To cover up this lie, they sent European epidemiologists into Northern China, and the president willingly gave tacit approval by refusing to condemn their actions.”
Joe tried to deflect by staying on the offensive. He deployed a little misdirection of his own.
“Congressman, can you point to specific reporting or an investigation that will confirm the outbreak in Tibet?”
“I suggest you start with the Central Tibetan Administration, the government-in-exile that is based in India. The Communist Party’s cover-up is nothing short of genocide of the Tibetan people, and it has occurred as a direct result of their cover-up. It has further hindered countries like the U.S. from instituting control measures to prevent recent travelers to Tibet from entering our borders.”
“Congressman, are you suggesting the president was aware of this and didn’t inform the public or act to prevent travel between our countries?”
“All I’m willing to say is he knew, or should have known. Had he held the Communist government’s feet to the fire, this potential outbreak might have been averted. The bottom line is this. If the actions of Beijing run counter to our national security interests, we shouldn’t stand for it. What I’m calling for should not be viewed as punitive measures. It’s not about punishing the Chinese. It’s about protecting the American people and our nation’s interests.”
Joe thanked them and slowly walked away from the microphone. By the time the 11:00 p.m. news aired, anyone concerned about another pandemic knew the name Congressman Joe Mills.
Chapter Thirty-Three
CDC Headquarters
Atlanta, Georgia
Harper and Kwon received a hero’s welcome upon their arrival at the CDC campus in Atlanta that morning. After a good night’s sleep at her home in Brookhaven, where she and Kwon managed to keep their eyes open long enough for a home-cooked meal courtesy of Miss Sally, they made their way into the city.
Kwon had had extensive conversations with Harper on the flights back to Atlanta. He wanted to see this investigation to its conclusion. Despite his vast experience in dealing with infectious diseases at DARPA, he’d spent little time in the laboratory setting. In addition, he’d never observed a necropsy, especially on a specimen as unique as Doggo.
Dr. Reitherman called everyone into his office for a debriefing before the necropsy was to be performed under the supervision of the CDC’s Infectious Disease Pathology Branch, or IDPB. Becker arranged for coffee from the Emory Starbucks location and picked up a couple of dozen delicacies from Duck Donuts in Buckhead on her way to work.
Harper stood at the rear of Dr. Reitherman’s office as introductions were made and pleasantries were exchanged. She was the common thread between this diverse group of professionals whose personalities were as unique as the positions they held.
Dr. Reitherman had already given Harper a heads-up that Becker and Dr. Boychuck had a tendency to butt heads. Well, it wasn’t really butting heads so much as the two were polar opposites.
Dr. Boychuck was all over the place, disjointed. As Mimi would say, he was every which way, meaning he lacked organization or the appearance of having any kind of system in approaching his job. Harper knew better because she’d worked with him, albeit briefly, in the Clark County medical examiner’s office.
However, for someone like Becker, who counted out her jelly beans and made sure they were all the same color, the mere thought of working alongside Dr. Boychuck sent her screaming into the night.
Yet the two of them had forged a working relationship and, despite their personality differences, managed to become friends as well. In the short period of time Harper had observed them that morning, the two teased one another incessantly. Their interaction could make for a new spectator sport or a reality television show.
Kwon was reserved as always, but he had an aura about him that commanded respect. Jokesters like Becker and Dr. Boychuck instantly recognized Kwon’s type of personality.
It was kinda like a cat that knew a human was allergic or didn’t particularly like cats. Felines, like children, sensed apprehension in a person. Similar to iron drawn to a magnet, the cat will seek out that person and do figure-eights through their legs. Likewise, a child will absolutely plop themselves on the lap of the adult who dreads the thought of the little monster being around. In the end, for both feline and child, the adult human succumbs and finds that it’s not so bad.
As the debriefing continued and Kwon took the lead in recounting the events in China, the trio warmed up to one another. Soon, the conversation centered around those three so much that Harper exchanged looks with Dr. Reitherman in which they both shrugged and smiled. Now she knew how a coat rack in the corner of the room felt.
That morning, a chemistry had developed between the five people in that office. They’d been through a lot as they performed their individual tasks as disease detectives. Now they were gelling as a group. It was time to take all the evidence they’d gathered and reach a conclusion.
The IDPB’s work had always been a critical component in the detection, research and surveillance of emerging diseases. As a mysterious new pathogen presented itself, their job was to generate a post-mortem diagnosis. Reaching a definitive diagnosis for a new outbreak was essential for developing control and prevention measures, as well as understanding the disease’s progression and, eventually, treatment protocols.
The pathologists within the IDPB used a variety of diagnostic techniques as they evaluated tissue specimens. Geneticists, microbiologists, and molecular scientists all rely upon the reports and findings of these talented doctors. Their work this morning would take Harper and her team one step closer to identifying this novel virus.
In every murder mystery, there was a scene where the medical examiner interprets markings, bruises, and injuries on the corpse to estimate a time and cause of death. This was Dr. Boychuck’s bailiwick.
The public doesn’t realize there is a very similar process in veterinarian medicine. Necropsies are the equivalent of a human autopsy, performed by both primary care veterinarians and specialized pathologists dedicated to identifying an animal’s cause of death.
Like a human autopsy, the necropsy posed challenges for the pathologist. They needed to determine if the changes in the animal’s body leading to death were caused by an inciting disease or if they were simply incidental to the manner of death. For example, older animals will have age-related issues, such as loss of muscle mass or cysts on their kidneys. Other changes were post-mortem, a natural result of the body decaying after death.
In nearby Athens, Georgia, was one of the premier veterinary medicine colleges in the nation. The University of Georgia was known for producing stellar veterinary graduates, including a regional expert—Dr. Les Sales.
Dr. Sales was an old-school vet who was just as comfortable birthing a calf as he was glued to a microscope studying the tissue of an ailing dog. He’d been called upon by the IDPB on occasion when a zoonotic disease was suspected.
Dr. Reitherman led Harper and the rest of the group to the pathology presentation room to meet Dr. Sales and his team. They planned on using a pathology lab that was surrounded by a protected gallery. It was used as a teaching opportunity for epidemiologists and pathologists alike.
The pathology operating room was safeguarded in the same manner as the BSL-4 laboratories. Nicknamed the gross room, in addition to performing autopsies, the pathologists would dissect organs, a process that left a bloody mess of tissues and fluids.
The process of disease detection usually began with an initial animal host. Diseases were natur
ally transmissible from animals to humans. If Harper’s theory was correct, Doggo was the key to the novel virus that had killed the four index patients in Las Vegas as well as hundreds in Lhasa, Tibet. Dr. Sales hoped to provide her confirmation.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” Dr. Sales greeted them casually. Along with the other pathologists handpicked to work on Doggo, he lent the appearance of an astronaut prepared to walk on the moon. So he could be heard clearly, his microphone was embedded in his protective helmet and was patched into the speakers throughout the gallery. Mounted high above the operating table were four flat-screen televisions suspended from the ceiling, providing the onlookers an up-close view of the necropsy. “I’d like to briefly walk you through our process.”
Dr. Sales casually strolled through the room, looking upward toward the gallery to make eye contact with his guests. He was quite the showman.
“First, we will perform an external exam not unlike what vets do at their animal hospitals. Next, we will systematically open up the body and examine all the organs while they are still in the body cavity. This will help us identify any displaced or twisted organs. Naturally, during this process, we will collect tissue samples of every major organ for analysis by you folks.
“After collecting the samples, I’ll remove each organ, examine it thoroughly, and incise it to look for internal lesions. Again, throughout this process, samples will be collected and preserved.
“Now, a word of warning, especially applicable to this particular case. As pathologists, we’re able to successfully reach a diagnosis about seventy-five percent of the time based on examining the body, studying the tissue through a microscope, and performing more specific tests based upon possible causes of death.
“That’s not to mean the other twenty-five percent of cases are a complete failure. Certain causes of death can be ruled out. And in the case of Doggo, our task is singularly focused on looking for evidence of disease and what possibly caused it.
“Here is our challenge with Doggo. This canine might well be thousands of years old. That said, his body is remarkably well preserved. Even with the rapid decomposition that has occurred since it began to thaw, we are looking at a remarkable specimen that will provide you the opportunity to analyze and interrogate the suite of trillions of microorganisms and other creatures that witnessed his death.
“And with a little luck, his stomach contents have not been destroyed by decay, so we can determine what this old pup had ingested before his demise.
“When I have my findings, if the disease is found to be present in Doggo’s body, it will be up to you to determine how this frozen corpse passed it on to humans.
“Now, let’s get started, shall we?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Two months prior
The Guliya Ice Cap
Northwestern Tibetan Plateau
Tibet Autonomous Region, China
Glaciers form as layers of snow and ice accumulate on top of each other. Each layer is different in chemistry and texture, especially in the Himalayas. Wet summer snow is different from winter snow, which is much drier. Over time, the buried snow compresses under the weight of the snow above it, forming ice. Particulates, dissolved chemicals, plant material and animals that were captured during this process become a part of the ice. Layers of ice accumulate over seasons, years, and centuries, creating a record of the climate conditions at the time of formation.
Trent Maclaren and Adam Mooy, who worked for Black Diamond Drilling, were specialists in harvesting ice cores from some of the coldest places on the planet. These cylinders of ice were drilled from glaciers as well as ice sheets like those found on the Guliya Ice Cap.
The Third Pole Environment program hired Black Diamond to pull these frozen time capsules from specific areas of the ice cap so their scientists could reconstruct the climate over a period of thousands of years.
That day, the two men were on a routine job along the base of a protruding ridge. They drove a large Arctic Cat pulling a trailer with several dozen insulated boxes. Some were already carrying the cores obtained from other locations, and the last six were awaiting the last drill of the day.
Because spring was approaching, they were able to use a thermal drill, which was more effective at coring through warmer ice than mechanical drills. A mechanical drill, designed to be used in extremely cold temperatures, was basically a rotating pipe with cutters at the head. As the drill barrel rotated, the cutters incised a circle around the ice to be cored until the barrel was filled with an ice sample. Mechanical drills had a tendency to chew up things in its path until the core was contained. The thermal drill generated a much cleaner, almost flawless cylinder.
As they filled the last half dozen insulated boxes, they were unaware of the archeological find buried deep in the glacier at first. They went through their routine, secured the cylinders, and made their way back in the frigid temperatures to the TPE research facility.
When a new shipment of ice cores arrived, the insulated boxes carrying the cores were quickly unloaded by the two men into the main archive freezer. Once the new ice samples came to thermal equilibrium with their new surroundings, they were carefully unpacked, organized, racked and inspected. After racking, they were checked into the TPE inventory system.
It was a weekend when the two men pulled their last ice cores out of the Guliya Ice Cap. Because there were no other personnel working, the two men, as they’d done in the past, handled the unpacking duties. It was during this task that Mooy noticed an anomaly in one of the glass cylinders.
“Hey, mate. Check this out.”
Maclaren wrapped his arms around his chest to ward off the frigid temperatures in the huge freezer.
“It’s just soil, mate. Not our problem.”
“C’mon, take a closer look. Have you ever seen hairy dirt before?”
Maclaren cursed and then rejoined Mooy. He rubbed the ice crystals off the glass tube to get a better look.
“I’ll be damned. It’s a wolf. Or a dog or something. It sure isn’t dirt.”
Mooy slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Come on, mate. We’ve gotta check this out.”
“What? No, we don’t. Like I said, not our problem. Let’s finish up our inventory paperwork and head out for Everest early. Right?”
“Mate, listen to me. This will make for an epic snap for Insta. We’ll just record this one as being compromised. Those people won’t care. Hell, they won’t even look at these for months. Look around you. They’ve got hundreds of others to work on first.”
Maclaren surveyed the cavernous freezer, and then he pressed his face closer to the cylinder to get a better look. “It is cool. Come on, you mope. Grab an end. Let’s carry it into the exam room.”
Mooy clapped his gloves together and dutifully grabbed the back end of the heavy cylinder. They made their way across the main archive freezer and entered the small walk-in exam cooler.
“Great, it’s empty!” exclaimed Mooy. After the men set the cylinder on a worktable, Mooy made his way to the digital thermostat. He turned off the freezer completely.
“What are ya doin’?” asked Maclaren.
“We gotta thaw this thing out, right? It’ll take a while, so let’s go get our gear ready, load up the car, and by the time we get back, we can take some selfies.”
“You’re a crazy bloke, but you’re the best I’ve got,” said Maclaren with a chuckle.
Two hours later, they returned to the TPE research facility in jovial moods in anticipation of their upcoming trip to Mount Everest. They’d both had a couple of beers while they gathered their gear, and by the time they entered the exam room, they were feeling good.
The temperature in the room had reached thirty-six degrees Fahrenheit. The ice around the specimen had mostly melted, leaving a wet puddle on the floor. They took a minute to sweep it into a centrally located drain. Otherwise, when the exam room was brought back to freezing temperatures, a sheet of black ice would greet the scientists when they arr
ived back at the facility on Monday morning.
“Can you believe this?” asked Mooy. He began to pet the wolf’s lush, velvety coat. “It’s been suspended in time over thousands of years. Right?”
“Probably eighteen thousand, to be exact. I heard some of those smart guys talking about the age of the most recent ice cores. You, my best mate, are looking at an eighteen-thousand-year-old dog.”
“Doggo,” mumbled Mooy.
“What?”
“Well, he needs a name. I think Doggo sounds good.”
“Fine by me. Let’s get these snaps so we can hit the road. I’m losin’ my buzz in here.”
Maclaren retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket. At the time, he didn’t know the iPhone was destined to fly out of his pocket and be lost forever in a snowdrift on the Kangshung Face. Then again, he didn’t know that was what fate had in store for him, either.
“Look at the mush on this wolf! Let’s get a head shot.” Mooy tried to force Doggo’s jaw open, but it was still partially frozen. Impatient, he gave it a little too much effort and caused the animal’s lips, cheek, and muzzle to tear. Also, two teeth broke off from decay.
“Careful, you mope!” shouted Maclaren.
“Yeah, yeah. Watch this.” Mooy stretched Doggo’s mouth open a little more, causing skin and cartilage to rip. “Get the camera ready.”
Maclaren got ready to take the shot. Mooy leaned over and place his head so that his neck was in the mouth of Doggo. His friend took several photographs, and Mooy quickly pulled his head away from Doggo.
“Wow, this wolf has some stinky breath. I inhaled enough of it to barf.”
“Here,” said Maclaren as he shoved the camera into his friend’s hand. “My turn. I’m gonna be a lover and not dog food like you.”
Maclaren leaned over, positioned Doggo’s now thawed tongue over the side of his jaw, and pressed his face up against it.