They wanted to make a better world
Captain Bowman stares at the beautiful scientist sitting across from him and realizes that he and his men might end up dying for her today. They are risking their necks simply because she has the best theory on how to cure the disease. They will fight in the next few hours, and they might die without seeing the sun again, to get this woman back into a working laboratory so she can produce a vaccine. A vaccine that will not be ready until the Mad Dogs have virtually overrun America and destroyed everything he loves about it.
All this effort for a cure that will come too late.
It is the classic Army bull, but he should have known better. He should have known she would not deliver instant salvation. A quick fix to a global disaster like this would be highly unlikely, if not impossible. Life is so much more complex than he’d like it to be. Many soldiers complain about this, but he is mentally flexible and accepts the complexity of life as a law of nature.
In short, it figures. But he wanted to believe.
The fact is, if he were General Kirkland, he would make the same call. This woman is the only scientist who spotted the real threat. She may be the best shot America has at producing a vaccine. She is a primary asset in a war that must be won, plain and simple. Even if there is not enough time to make a difference, America must try to find a cure. Where bullets and bayonets failed, medical science might still, one day, prevail. If she dies and nobody else steps up to cure Lyssa, the virus will have won the war against mankind even as it slowly burns itself out, perhaps permanently, perhaps to rise again.
Dr. Petrova is also our ticket out of here, he tells himself. At this moment, she is more valuable than we are. Without her, we might be left behind. The situation is unstable, chaotic. The Army is apparently in a shambles during its retreat from the cities, shedding units and equipment in the confusion and constant attrition. He had to bargain with Immunity, in fact, just to get them to live up to their promise of airlifting all of them out. Immunity had taken a line that they would extract the scientist from a nearby roof, and then they would see what they could do about rounding up a few CH-47s to evacuate Bowman’s troops. Perhaps in a few days, assuming the Mad Dogs would all be dead then. For Bowman, there were too many what-ifs, assumptions and empty promises. He knows Immunity is heading south and within a few days, it will be far away and may not even exist. No Chinooks, no scientist, he told them. He will catch hell for that later, he knows. Possibly lose his command. They might even put him against a wall and shoot him. But his men will survive, if only to fight again, and perhaps even die, another day.
“I have to ask one thing, Dr. Petrova,” he says.
“Yes,” she says.
“Two things, actually.” He stumbles a bit. “Yes, two things.”
She eyes him curiously.
“Of course.”
“My first question is: How did this happen?”
“I developed a hypothesis. But a scientific hypothesis, you see, is only—”
“I understand, Doctor. What’s your theory?”
“My apologies. My theory is based on several observations. The virus is too perfect. Lyssa somehow snaps back to its Mad Dog ancestor once it enters the brain. The incubation period defies belief. It must have been bioengineered.”
Behind Bowman, Doc Waters gasps.
Kemper says, “A terrorist weapon?”
“Why produce a terrorist weapon that will kill so many people on all sides?” Doc Waters says.
“Maybe the terrorists think they’ll survive it and come out ahead,” Kemper says. “Maybe they think it will level the playing field.”
“It sounds too good, though. It must have had government sponsorship.”
Petrova says, “Actually, you are both incorrect.”
She hesitates, apparently afraid of offending them.
“In my opinion,” she adds.
“Go on, Doctor,” Bowman says. “You’re the expert here.”
“Viruses are highly proficient at penetrating human cells and inserting DNA,” the virologist tells them. “It is what they do. Because of this, viruses normally thought of as deadly have begun to be used as Trojan Horse delivery systems for genetic material or drugs that can cure other diseases. Before this happened, gene therapy was an exciting area of biomedicine with tremendous potential.”
For example, she adds, a modified and benign form of HIV, the same virus responsible for AIDS, has been studied as a delivery system for diseases such as hemophilia and Alzheimer’s. Herpes may be proficient for targeting and destroying cancer cells. Even Ebola, one of the world’s deadliest diseases, has been studied as a delivery vehicle for a benevolent retrovirus that can repair cells and help combat diseases such as cystic fibrosis.
“I believe researchers in Asia were working with a modified rabies virus as a new gene therapy asset, and something went wrong, obviously,” Petrova concludes.
“You can say that again,” Kemper says.
“The rogue experimental virus entered the community but quickly mutated into what we call Hong Kong Lyssa—a respiratory disease similar to avian influenza. Perhaps it was accidentally mixed into the experimental vaccine formula. Such mistakes have happened before at biomedical facilities.”
“How could they even tamper with nature like this?” Doc Waters demands, his face reddening. “They basically destroyed civilization.”
“Please,” Petrova says, her nose wrinkling with distaste. “You have medical training, Mr. Waters. Certainly, you can appreciate that the release and spread of the disease is an odd occurrence, a one in a million circumstance, a very small risk for incredible gain for humanity. The world took far greater risks harnessing atomic energy. This was not the product of some sinister plan. The intent was to strip the virus of those attributes that made it deadly and insert benevolent genetic material into the hollow protein shell. The virus is not supposed to replicate or attack cells. It is a very careful process. I cannot imagine what went wrong, although something certainly did go wrong.”
“You can say that again,” Kemper says.
“I can tell you gentlemen one thing positively about the people who did this. The only thing I know for certain about them and what they did. They were trying to cure diseases that claimed millions of lives. They wanted to make a better world.”
“So did Hitler,” Doc Water mutters.
“Oh,” Petrova says, obviously offended.
“It’s a hell of a thing,” Bowman says, preparing to rise. “As far as theories go, I can’t think of a better one.” He does not hold her responsible for what happened. Instead, he admires her strength and intellect. The fact of her survival over the past several days marks her as a remarkably resilient and resourceful woman. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“You said you had two questions for me, Captain.”
“I did, as a matter of fact,” Bowman says, grinning. You’ll probably find the question a little strange, possibly even improper. Aw, hell, I guess I’ll just ask flat out. If we survive this, can I take you to dinner, Dr. Petrova?”
Petrova smiles and displays the gold wedding band on her left hand.
“Captain Bowman, that is a flattering invitation,” she answers, “but as you will observe, I am a happily married woman.”
Bowman smiles and nods.
“That also figures,” he says dryly.
Time to kick my ass?
McLeod finds Sergeant Ruiz alone in the elevator lobby, leaning against the wall with his hands deep in the pockets of his BDUs, seemingly lost in thought. The CO has authorized the company to take off the N95 masks until
