Somewhere over Europe, Satruday 1:55am
This is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to actual events or to real persons, dead or alive is, naturally, strictly coincidental.
43
Somewhere over Europe
Daniel started talking again after a long silence. His spoke in a little more than a whisper, forcing both Lara and Peter to lean towards him attentively.
“About three years ago, we identified a small group of Islamic militants training in Pakistan,” said Daniel. “They spent some weeks in a remote area, where apparently one of them contracted an endemic virus. That is when we first started paying serious attention to them, following some information from our intelligence sources. They shut down their operations in Pakistan when they realized they were under surveillance. That was a big mistake on our part.”
“Endemic virus? What kind?” asked Lara.
“We now know that it was a subtype of influenza A,” said Daniel. “The man who contracted this virus became gravely ill, but didn’t die. He developed antibodies. Of course, we never know in such cases why one person develops antibodies naturally, and other don’t. With the very basic medical treatment that was available to this man, I’ll call him our Patient Zero, he somehow survived. He made it back to Saudi after he escaped from Pakistan with the rest of his pals, but he never truly recovered. He underwent a series of tests, but no one could identify his ailment. He had respiratory difficulties, a hacking cough, aches and pains. Similar to the flu symptoms we all know so well. Except this flu didn’t go away, and some of the others in the original group contracted the same virus. Five of them died. The diagnosis on their death certificate was complications from the flu.”
Daniel paused and looked at Lara, then turned to look at Peter. They were both drinking in his words. He continued.
“Our Patient Zero never returned to normal functioning. After the other five died, our Patient Zero was diagnosed as suffering from a severe viral infection, the violent virus being of an unknown strain. This is when the others decided to keep him in quarantine and experiment with this mysterious virus. They brought in a scientist from Iran, hid from the Saudi authorities in a location not far from Zalim, in the West of Saudi, and began their little adventure.
At first everything was hunky-dory for them. The patient cooperated. He undoubtedly believed that he was serving a divine purpose. But his God did not help him. He got sicker and sicker. As far as we know, he was never allowed access to further external medical care. The Iranian scientist who was brought in from Tehran was given clear instructions: to find a cure for the virus; he was never explicitly told what the purpose of the exercise was but it wasn’t long before he understood the truth. It wasn’t that they wanted to cure our Patient Zero.”
“What was it, then?” asked Lara.
“They wanted to be able to infect others with this virus. To spread a disease. They wanted to be the only ones who had the anti-virals, so they could selectively contaminate others.”
“So you are telling us that these crazies are the ones who started all this?” asked Peter from behind.
“I thought you were asleep by now,” said Daniel.
“No chance,” came the swift reply.
“Anyway, this went on for nearly two years. The Iranian scientist was working alone, so he obviously didn’t make much progress at first. The patient’s condition got worse and he was no longer happy about being trapped in a remote location without being allowed out. He was living out his last days in complete solitude.”
“And then he died?” asked Lara.
“And then he escaped,” said Daniel, “on a soul-cleansing pilgrimage, or so it appears. He knew he was going to die, and being a devout Muslim, probably wanted to purify himself from the evil acts he committed. He had many conversations with the Iranian scientist, who was the only human contact he was allowed for a long time. He must have realized what was going on; perhaps he repented on his past actions. We have no idea how he managed to do that in his condition, but we do suspect one thing: he did make it to Mecca. It was not very far from the place where he was held. We think he died in Mecca, but we don’t know for sure.”
Both Lara and Peter breathed in at the same time.
“The Mecca connection,” said Lara.
“Right on,” said Daniel.
“So he then infected others with this virus. Those other pilgrims carried the virus with them from Mecca to the rest of the Muslim world, and then beyond it. This would explain how Muslims came to be the first carriers of the virus,” said Lara. “Very similar to the meningitis pandemic of 1992.”
Daniel nodded.
“This is exactly what helped us make the connection,” he said.
“But how do you know all this?” asked Peter from behind.
“That’s a whole different story,” said Daniel. “That part I can not share with you.”
“What about the Iranian scientist? He must carry invaluable information,” said Peter. He now moved closer to Daniel and sat on the arm of his own seat, leaning on the back of Lara’s.
“I can’t say more than I already did,” said Daniel. “Or I’ll have to shoot you. But you’re a clever guy, you can figure it out.”
“I’m clever enough to doubt that the CDC has put you up to this,” said Peter.
“I do work for the CDC,” said Daniel. “However, one can say that I’m a resourceful scientist.”
“That I believe,” said Peter.
The three of them sat in silence for a few moments. Everyone in sight seemed to be sleeping.
The flight attendant approached them, carrying a tray of sandwiches and glasses of water.
“You are the only ones awake,” she said. “Would you like a drink or something to eat?”
“A cold beer would be great, if you’ve got one,” said Daniel.
“I’ll have one, too,” said Lara.
“Whiskey for me,” said Peter. “It must be afternoon somewhere below us.” He then picked up two sandwiches.
“We’ll be serving a hot meal in an hour or so,” said the stewardess and smiled at Peter, who already started on one of his sandwiches.
“Thank you very much,” he said between bites.
The flight attendant walked away, smiling.
“They said you left me a letter,” said Lara.
“I did,” said Daniel. “When they came for me, they took it from my bedside table. I wrote it before I went to sleep and meant to leave it for you at reception in the morning. I was supposed to leave in the morning, to go to… never mind. But I never got a chance to do that.”
“What did the letter say?”
“It said…” Daniel hesitated. “It said that our deal was off, in case you came looking for me. It also said that…”
“Your beers,” said the flight attendant, putting two glasses and two cans in front of Lara and Daniel.
“And your whiskey, Sir,” she served Peter and smiled.
“Why did you want to cancel our deal?” asked Lara as the flight attendant walked back towards the galley.
“Because I realized that things were getting complicated. I thought I was being followed by the Saudi police. And I was right. I didn’t want to drag you into all of this.”
“You did, whether you wanted to or not,” said Peter, and took a long sip from his glass.
“No harm done, I hope,” said Daniel. He looked at Lara across the aisle.
“No harm done,” she said, looking into Daniel’s eyes. He smiled.
“If you’ll tell me one more thing, I’ll leave you two alone and go get some sleep in the back,” said Peter.
“Now, that sounds like a good deal,” said Daniel.
“Did you really get the vaccine formula? Do you have the anti-virals?” asked Peter.
“We got most of it, from its direct source,” said Daniel. “Now I really can’t say any more.”
“You mean, you’ve got the scientist,” mumbled Lara. Daniel remained silent.
“Have you actually got the vaccine or not?” asked Peter. “You can’t be half pregnant.”
“They’ve started production last night in the U.S.; Europe and the rest of the world won’t be far behind. It was given to the World Health Organization a few hours ago,” said Daniel.
“Are you serious?” asked Lara, her eyes widening.
“I am a serious guy,” said Daniel.
“I think it is time for that sleep I was talking about,” said Peter as he got on his feet. “See you later, kids.”
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