A
disgruntled lab employee unleashes a devastating virus. Or did he?
Harmon
J. Hartman, number one lab assistant for the Rowe Research and Development
Laboratory stood before Dr. Bartlett’s desk and demanded to know, “How could
you promote Jessica Flanders over me for laboratory supervisor? You know I have
two years seniority over her and besides, I’m better qualified.”
Dr.
Bartlett retorted, “I’m the owner, founder, and president of this firm and do
not have to justify my actions to you. As for your qualifications, you are a
valued employee and if you wish to remain with this company, you will return to
the lab and continue your work.”
Harmon
left Bartlett’s office and on the way back to the laboratory, grumbled, “If she
wasn’t sleeping with you, she never would have gotten my job.”
When he got
home that evening, he broke open a bottle of Vodka he had received as a
Christmas gift and began drinking. Unaccustomed as he was to alcohol, he fell
asleep before he finished the fifth shot.
He awoke the
next morning with a pounding headache and decided to call the office and
request a day of sick leave.
Then he
called his girlfriend, “Hi Sally, this is Harmon. When I got home last night I
felt totally betrayed. I got so drunk I must have passed out and now I feel
miserable. I just called in sick and got the day off. I was wondering if you
could do the same. After I recover a bit, we could spend the day together.”
Before she
agreed, she said, “Ok, but only if you promise to tell me why you got drunk.
I’ve never known you to drink in excess before.”
“I feel
foolish about it – but Ok – I promise. I’ll pick you up in about an hour.”
He took
three aspirin, showered, shaved, and got dressed. By the time he and Sally
finished a breakfast at the local pancake house, he was nearly back to normal.
They spent the remainder of the day together at the local museum of natural
arts and took in an evening show at a dinner theater.
The next
morning they were enjoying their first cup of coffee when suddenly his
apartment door burst open as six armed men dressed in full biohazard protective
gear burst in. “Freeze – Federal Agents. Hartman, you’re under arrest for
murder.”
When two men
gruffly seized Harmon from the chair and forced him to the floor, his coffee
cup sailed across the room and shattered when it struck the kitchen wall. At
the same time, two other men grabbed Sally and immediately escorted her out to
a waiting vehicle.
He was so
dazed from the assault that he could not say anything until after he arrived in
an isolation interrogation chamber. While still handcuffed and forced to sit on
a steel chair, he gazed with total bewilderment and disbelief through the glass
partition that separated him from the scowling faces of the interrogating
panel.
He finally
managed to utter, “I don’t understand – I’ve done nothing to warrant this
treatment.”
“The hell
you haven’t,” stated Special Agent Boyd. “So far as we have determined, there
are forty-three people dead, with countless others to possibly follow.”
“I still
don’t understand,” pleaded Harmon, “what’s that got to
do with me?”
“Since
you’re responsible – you tell us,” demanded Dr. Ralph Masters of the CDC. “Why
did you release the Omega Virus? You know how deadly it is.”
Paralyzed
with fear at the thought of the virus being loosed, Harmon stammered, “I didn’t
– I couldn’t – I wouldn’t do anything like that.”
Special
Agent Boyd asked, “Isn’t true that you were disgruntled over something with
your boss, Dr. Bartlett?”
“Yes, but
that was about promoting Jessica Rider over me as laboratory supervisor. When
Mark transferred to Atlanta, I was next in line for the position. I was the
highest-ranking lab assistant with more seniority than anyone else. I earned
and deserved that position more than Jessica,” and under his breath he
commented, “She only got the job because she’s sleeping with the Old Man.”
“Well,” Dr.
Masters stated, “they’re not sleeping together any more. They both died in the
hospital last night.”
Surprised
and shocked at the news, Harmon exclaimed, “And you suspect me because of an
argument over a promotion!”
“We suspect
you,” Special Agent Boyd said, “because you and Sally Ballard, a girl from the
accounting office, were the only two people who didn’t show up for work yesterday.
And now you’re the only two people alive from the entire Rowe Research and
Development Laboratory facility.”
A deadly
silence fell across the room as Harmon thought, “Sally must have told them
about my argument with Bartlett. How else would they have known? He then
questioningly murmured, “Everyone is dead?”
“Forty-two
employees plus a delivery men who entered the building
during the day.”
The special
agent asked, “Where were you yesterday and why didn’t you go to work?”
Harmon began
to say, “I got drunk the other night and took the day off. Sally and I spent
the….” but stopped and said no more.
Dr. Masters
interjected, “For whatever reason…. The most important thing now is, since
you’re the only one left alive with any knowledge of this deadly virus, what do
you know about it?”
Harman began
to explain, “As you well know, after Rowe Research and Development sent an
expedition team to the Southern Polar Caps to check on the melting ice. The
team leader radioed for help because they were too ill to return. By the time
our rescue party arrived on location, they reported that everyone was dead. It
wasn’t until after the sudden and mysterious death of the man who delivered the
samples from the polar lab to us, that we realized the virulence of the virus. From
then on, we took every precaution to isolate the samples. At closer examination
we determined that it was a totally new and unknown strain. Speculation has it
that as the climate changed, and the polar ice melted, the virus became active
and began to mutate. We named it the Omega Virus because it could be the means
to the end of all human life on this planet.”
Dr. Masters
chided, “If you knew how dangerous the virus was, what did
you do with it – how could you allow such a potentially deadly element
to ever leave the lab?”
“I didn’t do
anything with it. In fact, we were only just beginning to observe some of its
peculiarities.”
“How much
did the terrorists pay you for it?” barked Agent Boyd.
“Did you unleash it on your coworkers to cover up your covert connection?”
“Covert connection!” Harold cried, “I don’t know any terrorists, and if I did I
certainly wouldn’t sell them anything.”
“That’s not
what the delivery man told us before he died.”
Harold
stammered nervously, “What did he say?”
“He told us
he had instructions to pick up a package from your lab and deliver it to a man
in a black van parked in section A3 at the airport. After he delivered the
package, he began to feel sick. Dr. Masters happened to be in the hospital when
the man came into the emergency room. Dr. Masters recognized the dying man’s
symptoms from the video tapes of the expedition party and called me.”
“Did the
dying man say I was the one he got his instructions from?”
“No, but you
and Sally are our only suspects we have and it was a male who gave the delivery
man his instructions. Now you’re going to sit there until you tell us who your
connection is and where we can find the virus before it’s unleashed on the
public.”
Harmon awoke
with a splitting headache. He gingerly sat up, looked around, checked his watch
for the time, and observed the date. He suddenly discovered it was only the day
after his argument with Dr. Bartlett. He immediately realized that he had just
awakened from a booze-educed nightmare. He remembered every vivid detail as if
it had actually occurred. Slowly realizing that the experience stemmed from a
dream, he began to relax.
However on
second thought, he said to himself, “If this was a
portent dream of future events, I have time to discover the true culprit and prevent
the disaster.”