Prince Edward Island, South Africa
November 11, 10:09 P.M.
As his helicopter neared its destination, Dr. Raeburn was alarmed to see the sleek Chinese ship below the island’s high ledge and a patrol boat moving toward the cover that was home to Ship Rock. It wasn’t national sovereignty that concerned him but the contents of the pit at Ship Rock.
At least the sailors were not at the internment site. Not yet. And it was actually encouraging to see the activity inside the bridge of the corvette. The bug was either lost in the atmosphere or depleted. Perhaps there was nothing left in the pit.
He needed orders from Krummeck and he dared not communicate on the helicopter’s open radio. Fortunately, he knew where he could get a secure line.
Raeburn, the pilot, and the copilot were wearing masks, so they communicated by text through the internal silent-running system. Dr. Raeburn wrote:
Do not report to Simon
The pilot replied:
Civil Aviation may spot
Raeburn answered:
May not coming to Marion from NW. Dangerous
for SA pilots. Must land tell PLAN to leave.
The pilot acknowledged with a nod.
All of what Raeburn had said was true. Focused on their approach to the crash site, the two amphibious planes might be coming in too low to see the corvette. The mountains of Prince Edward would block the pair of helicopters. He also did not want South African Air Force pilots racing down in response. That was not just for their own safety. Raeburn and Krummeck still were at risk of being exposed. He did not want additional eyes on the microbial burial ground until he could seal it.
The question was what to do first. He had to get in there to see what conditions were. Of course, the Chinese would follow.
If they knew where to look they would be doing it, he thought. But if they take the AH-2 crew aboard, they’ll have it anyway in throat swabs.
It suddenly occurred to Raeburn that there was something worse than both of those possibilities.
If I land, they will have me.
The doctor had to get instructions from Krummeck. He texted his pilot.
Do not land. Go to Point Dunkel.
The pilot responded with a thumbs-up and swung the Atlas Oryx back out to sea and headed southwest. As he looked out the window, Raeburn could see a medical officer stop walking toward the AH-2, look up, shield his eyes, and watch the helicopter depart.
Terns were everywhere, dangling fish, and the scavenging black-billed sheathbills flew below them to pick up pieces that fell away. The helicopter rose to avoid them all. As they neared the blackened earth where the plane had come down, Raeburn was horrified to see that the sheathbills and other small birds were flocked across the wreckage. The doctor turned away. The pilot dipped inland to avoid not just the birds but their ugly feast. Within a few minutes the helicopter set down on the pad usually occupied by the AH-2.
There were lights on inside the outpost.
“I think we’re okay to take these off,” Raeburn said after removing his mask.
The pilot and copilot did the same.
“Wait here,” the doctor said. “I want to tell my superior we’ve arrived and get instructions about the Chinese.”
The two members of the flight crew acknowledged. Zipping his coat and pulling on the hood, the doctor stepped outside. His boots crunched on the frozen ground which was hidden in the shadow of the high, domed President Swart Peak. His face stung from the cold and he paid attention to his nasal passages and throat as he hurried to the building. The door opened as he neared.
A Chinese seaman stepped out, his QSW06 Wéishēng Shǒuqiāng pistol pointed at the doctor. He was wearing an olive green Sherpa-style trench coat and matching hat with the ear flaps tied over the top. The seaman waved the gun, indicating that the lieutenant colonel should come inside. His stern, set expression indicated that the young man would not hesitate to fire it.
As Raeburn entered, seven other naval officers filed out. All were armed and the doctor could hear their heavy boots scraping the hard earth. The lieutenant colonel just now noticed the young South African ensign. He was seated on a swivel chair, pushed well back from the communications center in the far corner of the room.
Except for the hum of a generator out back and the wind that was sweeping loudly through the open door, everything was silent. A minute or so later, Raeburn once again heard the sound of the boots stepping hard and fast. The sailors ushered the two-man helicopter crew back into the small living room and shut the door.
No one had raised their hands, nor had they been asked to. When everyone was gathered, the South Africans were in a circle comprised of Chinese—just like the AH-2.
Beijing and its institutional simplicity, Raeburn thought.
Back at Simon, the navy held regular briefings about the evolving tactics and technology of other militaries sailing the Indian Ocean. Russia had its crude, often reckless muscle. India was governed by a strict, inherently cautious hierarchy. China had its policy of “engulfment.” They identified strategic targets and then isolated them from their allies. In effect, the Chinese surrounded and consumed the weakest or key links.
It was then that Raeburn noticed only five of the Chinese had returned. The other two came back moments later. Each was carrying a crate containing six thermite grenades each.
The man who had initially been standing guard went to the radio set and raised the corvette. The room was hot and while Raeburn removed his gloves and unzipped his parka—under the twitchy scrutiny of his Chinese captors—the man spoke briefly with someone, then indicated for Raeburn to come over. The ensign gave him his chair. The doctor wheeled it close to the radio.
“I am Command Master Chief Petty Officer Kar-Yung Cheung of the corvette Shangaro,” said a crisp voice on the other end. “With whom am I speaking?”
“Lieutenant Colonel Gray Raeburn, medical officer in the South African Navy.”
“What is your reason for coming to the Prince Edward Islands?” Officer Cheung inquired.
“To treat one of our seamen, and may I point out that you are delaying—”
“Was it your intention to cure your pilot with thermite explosives, Lieutenant Colonel Raeburn?”
“We departed in a hurry. Those happened to be onboard.”
“What did you intend to do with the hand grenades?”
“Nothing. As I told you—”
“Then you will leave them where you are,” Officer Cheung informed him. “As for your comrades on Prince Edward, we will collect them.”
“You mustn’t do that,” Raeburn blurted. And immediately regretted it.
“Why not?”
“I cannot say,” Raeburn told him.
“Lieutenant Colonel Raeburn, you know more about this than you are telling. Explain quickly, please. We believe this is an infection and that it will become dormant, or nearly so, in a cold environment. That is why the helicopter heaters were not active.”
These people were not unobservant. Raeburn quickly weighed his too-few options. The Chinese had apparently suspected that the doctor was not randomly selected for this mission. He had just stupidly confirmed it. Whether at the outpost or on the corvette, they intended to hold him for now.
“Your silence seems to confirm our suspicions,” Officer Cheung stated. “You will be brought aboard.”
“And create an international incident?”
“While investigating a possible case of bioterror?” Officer Cheung said. “I do not believe that will happen.”
Encircled by the Chinese, with those circles closing tighter, Raeburn thought. He could not afford to be taken by these people. The truth must not come out. At the same time, the pit needed to be sealed. That was the priority.
“I have an alternate suggestion,” Lieutenant Colonel Raeburn said. “Let these men take me to the place I need to go, to the source of the contagion. Let me destroy what’s causing this.”
“They will take you but only to recover, not to destroy,” Officer Cheung replied.
“I will not do that.”
“Then you will do neither, Lieutenant Colonel, and we shall find it eventually.”
The doctor was about to warn them about reckless misadventure when there was muted conversation from the other end of the transmission.
The mood in the outpost was tense as the men waited to hear what had happened. Raeburn’s fear was that the crew of the corvette was not as safe as had been presumed.
“Doctor, how were my comrades?” Sisula asked suddenly.
“I did not get to see them,” Raeburn told him. “You heard the transmissions?”
“Yes.”
“The fact that your pilot is still alive is a sign that his exposure was extremely limited.”
“I thank God,” Sisula said.
After nearly a minute, the Chinese officer returned. His voice was still composed as he said, “It appears, Doctor, that you may have a larger concern than Shangaro.”