America: Silent Death

By Michael Chagnon

Army Sergeant Bill Thomas works with hazardous materials at the Fort Detrick Army lab in Frederick, Maryland. One Saturday in 2014, he goes to work, expecting the day to be like any other. Hes supposed to move vials of lab-manufactured Tularemia, also known as rabbit fevera highly contagious and deadly disease. Little does he know he has been chosen to become patient zero for an engineered outbreak; he will soon bring about the deaths of thousands of innocent people.

At the same time, Joe Randal and his wife, Sarah, are preparing for a trip with their kids to their North Carolina lake house when rumors of a food poisoning epidemic spread. To the Randals, this is nothing to be concerned aboutlikely just a case of some bad meat. They decide to drive separately to their lake house, not realizing that the decision will become a life-or-death struggle to reunite as America falls apart around them.

As the illness spreads, the United States collapses in a well-planned coup that eliminates the entire government system. Joe and Sarah must depend on their intellects and survival skills to reunite them and protect their family. Rebel forces begin to form all across the country, and the Randals become a key part in the fight to regain control. Two questions remain for them: how fast will the deadly disease spread, and how will Joe and Sarah find each other in the chaos?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781475968774

Michael Chagnon

Michael Chagnon works at an international airport. He has studied and practiced the martial arts for many years and currently holds a third degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He and his wife have been married for thirty years. They have three grown children and currently reside in central Maryland.

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Copyright © 2013 by Michael Chagnon.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-6876-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-6878-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-6877-4 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012924184

iUniverse rev. date: 12/20/2012

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilog

Saturday morning, it was the first week of September 2014.

Army Sergeant Bill Thomas slowly pulled into his parking spot at the Fort Detrick Army lab in Frederick, Maryland. He got out of his car smiling and walked into the heavily guarded entrance, the MP giving him the evil eye as if he didn’t know the Sergeant. He had worked there for some time now but the big MP always treated him the same way every time he came to work. The Big serious looking man glanced over his security ID, then let him pass through the door. The Sergeant had been part of the United States Armies Special Bio Weapons group for just over four years. The MP’s always giving everyone the same suspicious routine every day. Bill was in a good mood today because for the first time in several years he was going to take a vacation.

He had been recruited to work in the Bio unit several years back after two tours overseas in Afghanistan. During his second tour of duty there Bill had gotten into some trouble and after several hearings was surprised when his then commanding officer in Afghanistan, Captain Jonas Bennett, had recommended him for the Bio lab job. Bill had heard rumors during his last deployment that the Good Captain had been part of a weapons experiment in the Middle East in 2002 that went bad. The scuttle butt at the time was that hundreds of innocent civilians had been killed. Bennett somehow avoided any repercussions and was subsequently and surprisingly promoted. Now he was in command of his department at Fort Detrick.

There had always been a bit of mystery surrounding the good Col. Bill, but he didn’t care because Col. Bennett treated him good and it was rumored that he had connections in Washington. It was a nice opportunity for him to move up in rank and after a couple years of training, he was on his way to a long career in the Army.

Bill planed his European trip after his evaluation had come in a month ago. It stated that his work procedures had needed improvement. His commanding officer recommended that he take some time off. Bill knew that this type of evaluation would not look good on is record, because he handled some of the most dangerous and deadly bioengineered viruses that man has ever produced. The plague, hemorrhagic fever, VX, Anthrax, and yellow fever, among others; the list was long and deadly.

The lab and all of the personnel in his department were handpicked by Bennett himself, so when his superior suggested a vacation, Bill listened. It was either that or be transferred to another base, or worse—losing his clearance.

He walked through the halls, waving and saying hello to the few people that he associated with on the job. Bill was in a good mood because Col. Bennett assured him that the evaluation would not adversely affect him, he even suggested to Bill to go to Europe, making the arrangements for him. Bill didn’t know why the Col. liked him so much, but being in the military had taught him one good thing, if you wanted to move up, you have kiss up to your superiors. So far this strategy was paying off.

His flight was scheduled for this evening, so he wanted to get off as early as possible. He walked by several of his co workers and colleagues on his way to the suit-up room acknowledging them with a nod or smile. Today there was nowhere near the same amount of personnel that worked on a normal week day, just a skeleton crew. As he passed by his co workers they all wished him good luck on his vacation. Bill had always been a loner and didn’t socialize with his peers very much unless he had to. Having a security clearance meant keeping to yourself.

So Bill thought today was going to be easy, just moving samples from an inside storage containment unit to a mobile containment unit, nothing special, he had done this hundreds of times in the past few years. Transferring bio-weapon materials like the ones he handled had to be done in a very restricted and precise way, adhering to stringent procedures in special environmentally controlled rooms. Today, he had to move four vial packages of lab manufactured Tularemia, also known in layman’s term as rabbit fever. Each package contained thirty vials of liquid death. One vial could cause up to a hundred thousand people to become terribly sick and die a horrible death.

The only thing Bill knew about this bio-weapon was that it had been manufactured to be antibiotic resistant and could be spread by inhalation, ingestion, even contact with an infected person. It was one of the most deadly and secret bio weapons the United States Gov had ever produced. Where it was going, Bill had no idea, but today, Bill did not care." Just another boring day, alone in the bio room", he thought.

Bill took his job seriously, the safety training and precautions that he and the others had been taught were strictly enforced, as you would expect. Over the last few months though, Col. Bennett had changed some of the procedures. Some of them were welcomed, some were not.

One change that Bill and several coworkers had felt uneasy about was a change in personnel required for a transfer. For years it was mandatory to have two people in the bio room when a transfer was taking place, now it was only one. An extra pair of eyes could help keep you from making a huge mistake, but Bill didn’t protest, keeping his clearance meant minding his own business. After the election of 2012, plenty of changes had been made in the military and many didn’t like it, but that’s the way things were. Bill figured if he could keep in the Col.’s good graces, he would just slide through his career and retire.

It took Bill a while to suit up but he entered the transfer room and began working. After the first batch had been transferred, he was moving like a robot, having done this so many times before things were moving along at a good pace. This particular strain of toxic death had been developed in the early 1980’s for use in urban areas and could be released into food or fresh water supplies. It was engineered from a normal strain of Tularemia. In its natural state it normally took ten to fifteen days to manifest any symptoms of sickness and could be treated with antibiotics. However, in this deadly bioengineered strain, the infectious symptoms could show up as quickly as one hour. The way it was developed made it lethal very fast and was highly contagious. Death normally occurred within the twenty four hour exposure during its trial field experiments. This meant that by the time the enemy would realize what happened, several hundred thousand people could be infected in a short amount of time. Bill wondered to himself what kind of sane person would even consider making such terrible weapons; he knew that sanity had nothing to do with this.

He was concentrating on his work when his commanding officers voice came over the speaker.

As soon as you are finished Sergeant, you’ll be on your way, I hope have a good time. the Colonel said looking thru the observation glass.

Yes, not long to go, sir, Bill said not taking his concentration away from his task. The Col. gave him a half salute through the inch thick observation glass and then he walked away.

Col. Bennett had always been nice to him. Bill thought he was a good but distant commanding officer. Everyone seemed to like him, with the exception of some of the more senior and seasoned officers.

During his tenure at the Fort Detrick complex he had gotten a reputation. Officers and enlisted personnel the Col. didn’t get along with had all been quickly and silently reassigned to different bases. None of the other lower rank officers at Fort Detrick knew him or much about him, except for the talk of his relationship with one of the Joint Chiefs in Washington. Since the beginning of 2013 many personnel had been reassigned to different areas after the new President was inaugurated. It appeared to most that the Joint Chiefs wanted to keep everything mixed up, so people wouldn’t get too comfortable.

After about twenty minutes of boring procedures, another voice came over the speaker.

Sergeant Thomas, stop operations please, our video link is down. Stay at your station, the Security officer said in a very serious voice.

The Army had always videotaped all operations in the bio lab in case there was an accident. Bill knew that the Security officers did their jobs by the book, so he did exactly what he was ordered to do. It took a few minutes then he heard the the familiar sound of the first door of the air lock open and then the swoosh of negative air pressure fill the room. That meant the first door was closed and now the interior door would open. Bill sat still as he was told until the second door opened and the video tech, dressed in the same type pressure suit as his, entered. The tech entered the sterile room and stood aside as Bill rose up from his station and walked to the interior door. Giving a salute, Bill closed the door, another swoosh of air ending with the reassuring click of the locking mechanism.

Protocol and procedure, Bill thought, "none of that for two weeks".

The wait seemed to last forever, just standing there in the air lock until the familiar swoosh and the door opened again. As he took his station, Bill noticed that the tech had moved the samples over to accommodate his tool kit. The video tech was also trained in the handling of biohazards, as were all personnel in the lab, so he didn’t give it a second thought.

What Bill didn’t notice was that several of the vials had been removed from the first container and replaced with ones that were exact matches of the originals. Also unbeknownst to Bill was that the video tech placed a small microscopic drop of fluid on his station chair and a few drops on the floor where his feet would rest. Before he left the bio room the video tech put the vials in his tool kit.

"I hope the promotion the Colonel promised me comes with a new assignment." the tech thought to himself as he left the airlock.

Bill sat his station and waved to the video tech and he was on his way. Unfortunately the surveillance video that had been intended to protect all of the lab technicians and personnel was conveniently now, not working. The red LED light blinking on the camera making it look as if it was turned on. Therefore there would be no record of how this anomaly had occurred. For many years, the United States and other Governments would speculate about what had happened.

After the tech left, Bill resumed his task and an hour later he was done.

"I’m out of here! I’m free for two weeks", he said to himself happily as he finished securing the last vile container. After leaving the secure handling area, he entered the suit removal and wash room. Completely sterile and smelling of alcohol and disinfectants, he quickly disrobed, placing his sterile pressure suit in the burn receptacle. His gloves were next, then his booties. In his excitement, he inadvertently pushed the suit in the container with his bare right hand. With this one seemingly innocent act, Bill sealed his fate and the fate of countless thousands of human beings on the planet. This was the beginning of a diabolical plan many years in the making.

That small microscopic drop that went unnoticed barely touched Bills right thumb nail. He washed his hands according to procedures, but it was too late. The virus was doing its bioengineered job and had already started multiplying within Bill’s body. In a few minutes he was signed out and on his way home.

When he got there he cleaned up the house and put his luggage on the front porch, then called his neighbor and asked her to feed the fish in the aquarium and pick up the mail. A quick bite to eat and before he knew it, the airport cab was in the driveway. If only he knew that everything he had touched would be infectious. His home, luggage and now the cab would be the start of a terrible and unimaginable nightmare. At the airport, he stood at the ticket counter and sneezed where so many travelers lay their hands and baggage down to talk to the agent. Almost fifty people had already been infected in only a few hours.

After going through TSA security, Bill stopped at the magazine rack and leafed through several magazines and books before picking a small paperback to read on the plane.

"Man, is this going be a great trip." he kept thinking to himself. Still unaware that the virus had entered his body, Bill was now a walking time bomb. He boarded the plane, thinking of the tours he had lined up for the trip to Italy, Paris, and a few days in Britain. After the plane took off and got to cruising altitude, he had a soda and bag of chips. Relaxed, he laid the seat back and took a well deserved nap. Plane rides had always made Bill sleepy and this was a long flight. A while later he woke up feeling refreshed, and when he looked down at his watch he was stunned to see he had slept for six hours. He got up to go to the bathroom and as he walked to the back of the plane, he felt a little weak and feverish. The rest of the plane ride was uneventful and right on time, eleven hours and forty-five minutes and his plane touched down.

It was 7:30am in Paris, and Bill was famished. After waiting for what seemed like forever to gather his luggage, he boarded a bus to his motel. It was not the best motel, but Bill didn’t need anything fancy because he was only sleeping there a few nights. They had a nice little restaurant in the lobby, so after checking in it was time to eat. He felt a little unsure of what to order so he stayed safe with corn flakes and toast. "This is really nice, he thought to himself, I do what I want, when I want, for two weeks! And maybe meet some nice ladies who like American men!"

After paying the waiter, Bill went to his room to change and freshened up a bit before seeing the concierge. His stomach did not feel right and he attributed it to nervousness and anxiety. Maybe I’ll just lay down a few minutes and recoup, he said to himself. Little did Bill know that lying down and closing his eyes would be his last recoup of his short twenty-five year life.

Bill put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door and curled up in bed. Two hours later, Bill was drenched in sweat and running a 103 degree fever, breathing heavy from fluid in his lungs. He never regained consciousness. The lab scientist that dreamed up this strain of Tularemia had added some fast-acting genetically engineered traits that would speed up the process once a victim had been immobilized, and they remained that way, permanently. Not a particularly long process, but effective nonetheless.

Bill died at four o’clock in the afternoon that next Monday, by himself, in another country. His body was found by the hotel maid the next day, in his boxer shorts in sweat drenched sheets with no covers on. The hotel management kept Bill’s death as quiet as possible so as not to alarm the other guests. The authorities were summoned and Bill’s in case of emergency number was called in the States. Bill had left his neighbor’s number, but she wouldn’t be getting any messages anymore because she, too, was dead in her bed.

They contacted the United States Embassy and a nicely dressed gentleman showed up two hours later. Bill had left his military ID at home, and after 9/11 traveling abroad with a military ID was not recommended. Only his passport, credit cards, luggage, driver’s license, and $1,900 in cash were in the room. There was no reason to suspect anything. The Embassy representative had seen similar situations like this before and gave the go ahead to the police to have the body moved to the morgue until next of kin had been notified.

Wrapped in a black body bag, Bill was taken to the cold storage area of the morgue, ten miles from the hotel. His room was cleaned and readied for another guest. The cleaning maid and the laundry personnel were now infected. The hotel management did a good job of keeping deaths under wraps. The desk clerk glanced up at the TV as he was booking Bill’s room for another guest. The announcer mentioned that several people on a flight from the United States had become ill, and it was suspected that they had food poisoning. "Not to worry", the clerk thought to himself," this happens all the time."

At the same time in the United States a local Maryland TV news anchor was giving the same report about food poisoning at Baltimore International Airport.

No one in the bio lab at Fort Detrick who engineered this strain of Tularemia thought it would really be used on civilians. It was meant for the battlefield, against an enemy who was trying to kill American solders’.

The scientist that cooked up these viruses had to keep the funding coming in so they can keep their jobs. Well, they did a very good job. In the next seventy two hours, life as they knew it would never be the same—especially for a normal American family living in western Maryland.

Chapter 1

West Friendship Maryland, Monday morning 6 am, September 10, 2014.

The Randal household was typical of any other normal middle class American home. Four bedrooms, finished basement, two car garage in a cul-de-sac. Joseph and Sarah Randal purchased the house new in 1989. It was their second home they had lived in since they were married in 1982. They have three children—twin girls and a boy.

In 1974 the two had met at summer camp in West Virginia when they were both fourteen years old. Seeing each other at camp every year was the only reason either of them liked to go. Best buddies from the start; once Joe got his driver’s license they started dating. Sarah lived about forty miles north of him in Maryland, so they could only see each other on the weekends most of the time. Both born in 1960, and growing up with mostly the same experiences, they got along great.

Joe worked as a High Tension Lineman for the local power company, and Sarah is a registered nurse working in the shock trauma unit at a hospital in Baltimore. Working long hours was normal for both of them. They have gotten used to not being together in the evenings, so Sarah made it a point to have everyone gather for breakfast as often as they could. Today she was making everyone a nice meal before they all went to work.

You know, babe, Joe said to Sarah, I still love your French toast after all these years. Walking over to her standing at the stove, he playfully rubbed up against her.

Stop that you dirty old man, the kids will be down soon! Sarah laughed, swatting him with a spatula.

So what? Joe shrugged. They’re not kids anymore and are hardly even home much!

Sarah knew this, but she still thought of them as children in her mind. Kids growing up meant they were getting old, and getting old was something Sarah didn’t like thinking about. Well, she said, we wouldn’t want them to see their father groping their mother at breakfast, or any other time, would you?

Joe looked at her and laughed.

Come on babe, I don’t care, that’s how they got here in the first place!

She gave him a wink, Sit down and eat your breakfast, Sarah sais playfully. How was class last night? She was trying to change the subject.

Pretty good, Mark is really taking his black belt exam seriously. He’s getting good enough to take me on soon. He said as he dug into his breakfast.

Their twenty one year old son Mark was taking karate lessons at the studio where Joe instructed classes at least two days a week. Joe had been practicing Tai Kwon Do for thirteen years and had risen to the level of third degree black belt.

I give him another seven weeks, his mind is ready, but I think some fine tuning on his Kata’s is needed. You know how hard the first black belt exam can be. He has great potential and my goodness his reflexes are exceptionally fast, he said proudly.

Pausing to take a few more bites, Joe changed the subject.

You know Mark and I finished working on my truck Saturday; new brakes, tires, tune up, and an oil change. He said finishing his plate.

That’s great, Sarah told him. All you have to do is load it up and the girls and I will leave for the lake tomorrow afternoon, if they can get off work early.

She was referring to the vacation home Joe and Sarah had built several years back, intending it to be their retirement home someday. It was located on a lake in North Carolina about four and a half hours from their home in Maryland.

We will have it packed tonight. he said as he got up to take his empty plate to the sink.

There are six, five-gallon gas containers with high octane gas to bring down to the lake for the Chaparral. I’ll load two in Mark’s truck and I’ll load my truck with the others, you ok with that honey?

No problem Joe. She said continuing to make more toast.

She had driven with gasoline in the back of the truck before and didn’t mind, knowing Joe would make sure the containers would be secured safely.

Just then Mark walked in the kitchen, dressed for work and sniffing the air.

Oh mom, that smells good, can I have a big plate full please?

Sure thing, and good morning, she said, looking at him.

Oh yea, sorry Mom, morning, he said, and gave his mom a peck on the check.

Good morning son, Joe said. continuing Mark and I will come on down on Tuesday evening after work, if we get off on time, Joe said.

The weather looks good right through the week Pops, so you think we can get the Chaparral out? Mark asked, referring to the used boat they bought last fall.

Sure, all we have to do is give her the once over and change the oil. Maybe Cliff can follow us out in his Pontoon boat while we shake her down.

Cliff Brown and his wife Mary have a house right behind Joe and Sarah’s at the lake. They had retired there several years back and were good friends of Joe and Sarah’s.

Sounds good to me, are we taking my truck to work today or yours, Pop? Mark asked, shoveling breakfast into his mouth finishing his meal quickly.

Yours, if you don’t mind, Joe answered pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Mark, an apprentice lineman, worked with Joe at the same power company.

No problem, I’ll go warm her up, and thanks mom! Mark said as he swallowed his last bite and bolted for the door.

Sarah was finishing up packing her boys lunch and making Joe a thermos full of coffee. He got up and walked over to her.

Thanks for the French toast, they were great as usual., he said as he gave her a pat on the bottom and a kiss on the cheek. Love you, babe see you later on tonight. He grabbed his thermos and walked out the back door.

She looked at him and winked. Keep my baby boy safe out there, you hear?

He waved back and said, Of course I will. You know me, safety first! He winked back as the door closed behind him.

Joe and Mark were both six foot two inches tall, Joe weighing in at around190 lbs and Mark at 180 lbs, not an ounce of fat on either one. If it weren’t for the exception of Joe’s graying hair, they could pass for brothers.

Sarah watched the boys back the truck down the driveway and roll down the street slowly going out of sight and then heard the girls coming down the steps. Amber and Melissa are their fraternal twin daughters, twenty-three years old. Amber was in her fifth year at state college majoring in criminal psychology. Melissa followed her mother’s footsteps as an emergency room nurse at a local community hospital not too far from their home. The twins had red hair and were three inches taller than their mother. Despite the height difference, the three of them looked just like sisters, all with the same build, slim and athletic.

Morning, Sarah said, Either of you want some French toast?

The girls looked at each other and then looked at Sarah.

Are you kidding?! They said in unison.

Amber and Melissa grabbed plates and sat down to devour their breakfast.

Think you girls can be ready Tomorrow around noon to leave for the lake? Sarah asked.

I don’t have any classes Tuesday so I’m good, Amber said.

After today I’m off until next Wednesday, but I want to get back on Sunday night, Steve has to work Monday, Melissa replied with a bite of French toast muffling her words a bit.

If you want, Amber, you can ride back home Sunday night with Steve and me. Dad and Mark have off till the following Monday, Melissa said.

Steve Ducket is Melissa’s fiancé and he too is a lineman at the same power company as Joe and Mark.

"Girl’s, we will have dad’s truck, and your father and Mark are driving in Mark’s truck. I think Steve is following them down Tuesday evening in his new truck. Steve’s truck was exactly like Mark’s, only brand new, and it was the first new vehicle he had ever owned.

Yeah, that’s what he told me, Melissa said, finishing her last bite. The boys are all working on the same job this week so hopefully they can all get off the same time.

That’s good, Sarah said. It should be a fun, long weekend with lots of things to do. Dad and Mark have been dying to take out the boat and that means us girls have the jet skis all to ourselves.

Hey, mom, Amber said, Who’s taking Penny, Us or Dad? Penny was their three year old female Sheppard/Lab mix.

Dad is, Sarah answered. I don’t want that nasty dog breath in the car with me for four hours! She laughed and looked around and asked, By the way, where is she?

Mark had found Penny as a puppy at the lake; she was abandoned in the woods and was in bad shape, malnourished and in poor health. Mark took care of her and over the years they became inseparable. She adapted to her new family immediately, everyone loving her. She is about seventy pounds and very lovable, but can be intimidating to strangers and was extremely protective of the family.

Just then, Penny strolled in the kitchen, wagging her tail. She went to everyone for a pat on the head, stopping in front of mom, looking intently at the stove.

You’re a sneaky little girl, Melissa said to Penny. "You always seem to know when there’s