Squad V

By John Steiner

In the decades following the second world war, the United States created new agencies and departments to address a wide range of issues including intelligence, emergency response to disaster and disease as well as covert warfare both abroad and domestically. These converge on discovery of a new threat not only to the U.S. but to the fundamental nature of human society and physiology. Quincy Barns, a former U.S. Army Ranger and CIA paramilitary operative, learns that not only are vampires real but there is a professional combat force trained and equipped to face the threat they pose. Once recruited into Squad Five Quincy faces enemies and inner dilemmas like nothing the hardened veteran can imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melange Books, LLC
• Release date: Feb 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781612354071

John Steiner

John Steiner earned his Associate of Biology at Salt Lake Community College, where he is currently working as a tutor in math and chemistry. He exercises an avid interest in history, science, philosophy, mythology, martial arts as well as military tactics and technology.

Book preview

SQUAD V

by John Steiner

In the decades following the second world war the United States created new agencies and departments to address a wide range of issues including intelligence, emergency response to disaster and disease as well as covert warfare both abroad and domestically. These converge on discovery of a new threat not only to the U.S. but to the fundamental nature of human society and physiology.

Quincy Barns, a former U.S. Army Ranger and CIA paramilitary operative, learns that not only are vampires real but there is a professional combat force trained and equipped to face the threat they pose. Once recruited into Squad Five Quincy faces enemies and inner dilemmas like nothing the hardened veteran can imagine.

To Carrie McEwan for being the strike on the match, Ronald Higgins for kicking me in the ass hard enough, my sister, Sonya J. Colbert for excellent photography and my father, August Steiner for teaching me to think for myself and putting up with when I did.

Prologue

The Call

In 1979, President Jimmy Carter along with the National Governor’s Association set out to maximize the federal government’s response to emergencies. This required a new agency from which disasters could be managed from a centralized organization reducing the number of agencies and departments needed to jointly handle disaster control, relief and recovery. Along with the National Fire Prevention and Control Administration, National Weather Service Community Preparedness Program and many other agencies came the formerly Defense Department’s Defense Civil Preparedness Agency. This led to Executive Order 12148; the creation of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, FEMA.

Originally standing for the Communicable Disease Center the CDC, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention started by opening the Office of Malaria Control in War Areas in Atlanta, Georgia under the mission of working with state and local officials. Over the decades, it expanded its efforts to identify record, track, treat and prevent other communicable diseases across the globe. Often this is in concert with FEMA.

Since the Second World War, the United States has not only engaged in surveillance and espionage against hostile and rival nations, but even neutral countries and allies. In doing so, they sought to uncover and understand all secret operations, military or paramilitary movements across the globe. Those they found and followed led to the need to reveal both the origins and purposes of foreign government activities. A few proved to have been mostly carried out independent of each other, yet possessed a common thread. A threat to the most fundamental levels of human biology had been revealed once more. Its origins, to this day, remain unknown.

No matter the culture or political nature of these nations, throughout recorded history the bulk of them responded in similar nature; eradication.

The Sumerians mostly documented this plague but feared to confront it for their lack of capability, though the first sovereign emperor of China, Qin Shi Huangdi did not. A few of the later dynasties followed his example with the aid of the Shaolin, even if they otherwise had opposed each other in open conflict.

In the second century A.D., the first of secret crucifixions were carried out by the Roman Empire, which were well out of character for their usual use of the torturous execution meant to set an example for all to see. This knowledge found its way into the two powers who owed their origins to the Romans. First, the Eastern Empire using a weapon specifically invented for the job. Yet Grecian Fire had later been lost to history.

The second beneficiary, the Roman Catholic Church, took up the cause centuries later, as did several of the Islamic powers around the same time; this amid fiercely fought crusades. Such strange and seemingly contrary alliances were by no means unique.

Many of the earliest Shoguns of Japan, and their Samurai forces, who lived by strict codes of honor as written in the Bushido Code, found themselves forced to make packs with the most ruthless antithesis of all they stood for.

Working in concert, scant few groups among the most elite of Samurai and the Ninja, the latter known for assassinations, lightning raids, theft, banditry, terror invoking and murder, fought the epidemic with the greatest effectiveness known in medieval times. Even indigenous peoples like the Lakota Dog Soldiers and an as yet unknown brotherhood of Masai, since lost to time, faced this menace and, with limited success, deterred it.

This disease, whose effect united the best and worst of humanity against it, was as unique in pathology as it was lethal. The myth of the vampire proved all too real.

Both the nature of the epidemic and the consequential behavior of those who carried it demanded a swift, overwhelming and ruthless response.

Since the various mythologies surrounding the vampire failed to coincide and occasionally contradicted each other in how best to eradicate them, the solution was for complete tissue destruction.

Borrowing a roman numeral V to signify vampire; the concept of a secret force, or Fifth Colum—the term originating in the Spanish Civil War—FEMA and CDC incorporated paramilitary personnel and units formerly operating under the authority of the Central Intelligence Agency, into a new fighting force. Retrained and reequipped, they fell under a new designation of Squad Five.

As no member among these Squad Five units had active military records or a past disclosed to public records, they could be deployed to declared disaster sites to wage a secret war against formerly human organisms living in the shadows of civilization.

The battle continues to this day.

Chapter One

Unspoken Wars

Look! the scruffy chinned sturdy built man charged with a thrusting index finger, That money was for boots, firearms, munitions, wet weather gear and food!

The translator repeated all he said, probably more politely than Quincy Barns wanted, and the rebel leader’s aid just stood there as if he didn’t understand either of them nor cared.

Quincy, being a former U.S. Army Ranger, still showed much muscle through his black tee shirt. He also wore camouflage fatigues. The shades weren’t necessary in the jungle, but he liked them nonetheless.

His nearly collar length hair indicated military dress code regulations hadn’t applied for awhile. Beneath the hair creased a forehead so well muscled there appeared a slight vertical cleft in the middle. His jaw looked chiseled from stone.

Over the shirt, he wore a pronounced sense of caution in a bullet resistant vest. Yet it lacked what military personnel called the Chicken Plate: ceramic plates inserted into pockets to add a somewhat weighty and hardened barrier to absorb impact energy and reduce penetration.

Strapped down to one side of his web gear hung a P-90. Across his back and pointed at the ground was an M-203 assault rifle/grenade launcher, originally based on the M-16 and its reduced length relative to the M-4. On his upper right leg, Quincy kept holstered a .45. He also wore two survival knives and other equipment. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let this South American jungle be his grave.

Well? Quincy prodded the translator after the aid mumbled something.

He says this isn’t Afghanistan and his people don’t owe you anything until you deliver.

Quincy’s first impulse was to grab the man by his collar, plant a heel behind the aid's feet, knock him on his goddamn ass, drop a knee to his chest and draw his pistol to bare on the inside of the little bastard’s eye socket, then clarifying himself.

Rather, he took a deep breath and tried explaining again. My government already paid for your group’s cooperation. Any additional monies this month are intended to finance your operations. That means supplying your men, not lining your pockets. You make me have this conversation again and we WILL cut off support.

He walked off without waiting for what either of them had to say.

The translator took a double take at his back, and then quickly caught up. Senior Barns, you’re not authorized to cut off support for the rebels. You know that. You really want me to tell him different?

"No, I’m ordering you to."

His steady gaze was all part of the bluff, and after dealing with Afghani warlords, he got good at it. Yet, he had a point Quincy had hoped would’ve slipped his mind. The translator nodded with a serious face.

While the conversation took place behind him, elevating a few tones and a couple more degrees, Quincy looked around at the dense growth on a land noticeably sloping upward. This close to the mountain range, the only people Quincy’s team expected to see was rebels, bandits and a few indigenous people. So, the rustling a couple hundred yards up had him concerned but not alarmed.

He put his earpiece on to call out. Mike, where’re your people?

Northeast, five hundred meters...

Anyone south of us?

Not to my knowledge. I’ll check with Hernandez’s rebels.

Negative, I doubt he’d have his people creepin’ around behind us like this.

Right, Quincy, Mike answered before cutting his signal.

He’d better not anyway, Quincy said before returning to the lively discussion.

Ah, Senior… The translator looked as nervous as the aid. He says we leave right now!

He says, huh? Tell him I want to know who’s out there.

El Chupacabra! the man answered without knowing Quincy asked.

He held his hand to the aid saying to the translator, Tell the little prick I know that word means foreigner, so he can spare us the ghost story bullshit!

Senior Barns, he’s not normally this scared. He’s fought dozens of engagements against government forces. If he says we leave, then you should think about leaving.

Quincy shook his head, not at the translator, but at the idea. Then he looked at the ground talking into his radio, Mike, get your people back here immediately. We’ve got unknowns south of our position, possible sappers or psy-ops hostiles.

Then he spoke at the rebel, turning halfway and pointing to where he referred, with the translator repeating everything in Spanish. Here’s what I want you to do; get a platoon there, there and over to the other side, there. Tell them to hold fire, stay outta' sight and observe.

The rebel vigorously shook his head, getting Quincy’s blood boiling. Hey! Don’t be doin’ this, he repeated the headshake. And have your guys’ asses moving! Now get on it!

Grasping the translation, the rebel hesitated. Quincy physically leaned forward with a commanding sideways look. It worked.

The aid knew Quincy too well, along with being fully aware of his combat record, to dare bring down the American’s wrath. Withering before his eyes, the aid silently consented and turned to shout out the order.

The three platoons maneuvered according to Quincy’s plan, and by the time Mike came back with his team Quincy was ready for his part. With rebels moving laterally their ascent wasn’t as vigorous as that of the American group, many of whom were once members of various special forces—each one easily worth dozens of rebels.

Even though as a CIA ran paramilitary unit, their activities here classified, everyone within the immediate region—the indigenous jungle tribes included—knew who they were and what they did. That’s why he and others freely said the names of the Americans over the radio.

Senior Barns, came one of the rebel platoon leaders who knew some English. I hear them closing in on the camp. They make no attempt to be quiet.

Now enveloped by the intense greenery, Quincy felt no claustrophobia, but comfort. Despite the tension, he half smiled advising his team members. Keep your weapons down-range but fingers off triggers.

Roger.

Copy that.

He waited. The rustling turned to a thrashing as the unknown approached. Another thing crossed his mind; South America didn’t have terribly large wildlife, but there was one type of deer. Or maybe it was deer-like animal living down here. He'd forgotten, since it didn't strike him as important, and with so many, it obviously wouldn’t be jaguars, particularly with so many people around.

Quincy saw one jaguar during his time here, at twenty yards. While not much for religion or spiritualism, he considered the chance encounter a special moment forever burned into his memory. A few weeks later, he had jaguar paws, with exaggerated claws, tattooed on his upper arms and a jaguar head on his chest with teeth bared. He never told anyone why, and none knew he and the animal had locked eyes.

Again, he would lock eyes with the primal, only this time the other turned out to be a man. The first of five came into view looking starved by Quincy's guess and possessing strange mannerisms. Though he was clearly from this part of the world, his skin was pallid and a little grayish. There were sores or ulcerations all over his chest, arms and face, yet he was wiry. The last time Quincy saw a man with a build like that, he’d beat a couple Olympic records in sprinting.

His pants long since shredded by the jungle, looked like loose mummy wrappings. He walked with no footwear at all. All five suffered the same condition and all searched for something on the ground.

Then the stink hit him.

A whispering in his earpiece echoed what his nose caught. God, the smell...

It’s like a decaying odor.

Quincy’s eyes flickered to either side. They might have a communicable disease, guys.

One of the five quickly turned toward a movement and jumped for it. He rose up to his knees with an animal between his hands, which he quickly bit on the back and ate as they all watched. The others tried taking it from him, but the prize was so small he finished by the time they pried open his bloodied fingers.

One of the rebels started yelling hysterically, drawing their attention from the prior squabble. There wasn’t a thought before the five immediately sprinted for the group of rebels. Realizing they were crazed Quincy squeezed the P-90's trigger with a near-buzzing fire. Others followed suit, and the five all received multiple hits.

Two were hit in the legs and fell, then struggled to their feet and continued. One trailed his guts behind him without so much as wincing from pain. A top of another’s skull blew off from two shots of a full auto burst, exposing his brain, yet he too kept running for the right flanking platoon.

Drawing closer they took even more hits, leaving arms and organs, until finally sustaining enough injuries so their spines were shattered or simply collapsed. Their legs took hits, but not enough, strangely. Downed by the hail of weapons fire, liters of blood splashed all around, they still clawed at the ground trying to reach the rebels.

Quincy chanced a guess they wandered alone. He decided to come out from under cover once everyone ceased fire.

He kept his P-90, a short-muzzled weapon horizontally fed by a fifty round clip, steady on the still living group while walking in a wide footed low crouch. One of the diseased men saw him and redirected his crawling effort, leaving his legs and torso behind.

The former Ranger had seen some grizzly scenes, even the dead-and-didn’t-know-it’s trying to either get away from the battle or perform one last act. Most would be in shock while doing so. But this man remained focused. He knew he saw a man standing before him and wanted nothing more than to dig those madly clutching fingers into him.

About to do the man a favor, Quincy recognized slow movements and growing puddle of blood; convincing him the man lay dying already. The stench of death choked with as much strength as he’d expect from a corpse otherwise weeks old.

The other four also became still, the last after twenty minutes. He’d never before seen people who bled so badly still moving.

Hearing others come out, Quincy hardened himself before anyone could, or thought to, lay eyes on him. This proved to be a new development requiring input from his CIA handler.

Mike, get Kill Joy on an encrypted line.

Right! he sharply answered, then went back for the satellite linkup.

The rebels let their fear remain visible, with several repeating the aid’s earlier claim. Quincy called for one platoon to stay by the bodies to guard them from physical contact, before heading back to the camp. He reported what happened and his suspicions that the men might be diseased, or maybe on some narcotic.

Over an hour of silence, he imagined calls back up the chain to a decision maker then back down. Then he heard, Adder Seventeen field team stand fast. You are to hold perimeter around hostiles and wait for special support. This is a Delta Bravo situation requiring full containment.

Quincy looked to Mike and others of his team before trying to ask into the comm unit’s earpiece. Unfamiliar with Delta Bravo, please clarify.

Negative. You will establish a safe zone around the bodies. Anyone contacting them is to be put under guard immediately. This is the director’s orders. Confirm.

Confirmed, Kill Joy, Adder Seventeen out. Quincy tossed the headset back to Mike.

What the fuck, Quincy. Is there another operation up here or what?

Quincy shook his head searching the soil upon which he knelt. They didn’t say. I got no clue what a Delta Bravo is supposed to be.

One of the rebels was yelling, snapping Quincy’s attention back to the scene of the firefight. He got up running in time to see the rebels all backing away from one of the jungle men, whose fingers slowly continued clutching the mud he’d fallen into face first. By now, he was ghostly in color with no more blood to lose, and yet he moved.

One rebel was in hysterics pointing at the active body. Staying out of arm’s reach, Quincy bent down to look more closely. There was a tear on the neck, which he doubted could’ve been a gunshot. He’d been bitten by something—an animal maybe.

Unconsciously, Quincy looked down at his own chest, but quickly raised his head up to keep those around him from the self-conscious glance at his own tattoos.

From back in more dense growth the translator called, Senior Barns!

Untrusting of the rebels’ ability to remain calm, Quincy had his own men watch over the remains, then went to the translator. Have either of you seen this kind of thing before? he asked.

He says this is the work of El Chupacabra.

Quincy sighed shaking his head at his boots before looking up in disgust. Finally, he eyed the translator, his hand chopping at the other with each word. All I see are a bunch of PCP addicts who like to fuck around with the local wildlife. So spare me all that jungle spirit voodoo noise.

Senior, I wouldn’t normally believe in, how do you say... Ah, boogey men, but I too hear a great many stories about ghosts who take people, drain their blood and leave them wandering the jungle. In Afghanistan, you respected local traditions, no?

He faced away from the two, resting his arms on his weapon. Like you say Juanito, this isn’t Afghanistan. And I’m more concerned about a shitload of inbound helo traffic tipping off the government than some goddamn Casper comin’ out of the jungle.

While the helicopters did arrive after several hours, they did not bring undue attention. It came as surprising to Quincy, since there were so many— twelve at least—all unmarked, which he expected. But the equipment they suspended under them and the men who rappelled to the ground didn’t strike him as being the usual for a CIA clean-up crew. Their Nuclear, Biological, Chemical or N.B.C. suits caused him to wonder if a biological weapon affected the other men. Though, if that were the case, he knew one handler for this op who’d get his ass beat for not telling him.

One of them approached, just as he saw an unsuited group rappel from the last Blackhawk. You’re Quincy Barns, correct? I need you to clear this area of rebels now.

Yes, he shouted over the engine noise. What’s the germ weapon?

Excuse me? the other asked in turn.

Quincy pointed to the site. Those men are infected with some sort of flesh eating disease.

The unsuited men geared up bullet resistant vests that offered protection in some odd places, like the neck, inside of the thighs and underarms. The operators also put on gloves with thick padding up to their elbows, and then there were the shin guards.

Quincy recognized one of the newer flamethrowers the U.S. didn’t officially research or use and a riot shield, though the latter had some modifications. The long spears however, and one crossbow with a small high-pressure tank under its hand guard, took Quincy aback. All appeared rather high tech, with the spears and axes possibly designed from milled titanium. While ten of the twelve men each packed an axe, the two flamethrowers operators lacked them. Four spears were handled by two men each. On the opposite ends unfolded clamps.

The N.B.C. suited personnel took tissue samples from the bodies. After, the bodies were incinerated in a fire so intense it burned almost white and quickly went out once the bodies were reduced to ash. The areas where body parts, entrails and blood fell also were bathed in fire.

The first man walked Quincy away from the scene. We’ll have to fly your team out. What you’ve just witnessed is a more sensitive situation than all CIA operations throughout South America. I can’t tell you anything more until your new security status clears approval.

What about the rebels here? Quincy stopped him, seeing a detail being skipped.

They’re not to discuss this ever. You’ll explain as much, and have them understand just how much U.S. support depends on their silence.

Quincy stopped cold where he stood looking up to the man through his face shield. Rendered speechless, he oversaw the breakdown of his team’s camp. Then, just before climbing up into one of the helicopters, he shot out his hand, waved at the scene and rammed a finger against his lips. Then he rubbed his index finger and thumb together, and the message crossed over without mistakes.

The fleet of helicopters lifted off for a temporary Forward Armament and Refueling Platform. From there, Quincy’s team transferred to an airport to be flown to the states.

Chapter Two

The Pitch

They let him go home after a thirty-six hour debriefing, but under surveillance for the entire five weeks prior to calling him to Atlanta, Georgia.

The airline ticket arrived, hand delivered with a verbal notification. The messenger explained he was the only member of his team invited and that was classified too. His wife didn’t know what project he’d been doing before, so lying to her now had been refined to an art and a science.

To his neighbors in this stuffy suburb, the process simplified to mind your own business, and have a nice day. The contrast stunned them enough to delay the dirty looks until he pulled out of the driveway. It wasn’t just his neighbors in which he saw no life; it was all around him in the airport and on the plane. No one seemed to be conscious of just how much trouble the nation was in, for all the enemies its policies created. Yet, it never seemed to hit the news, even when not classified.

Driving a rental car through Atlanta—a nightmare of roads, not one going in a straight line—and following the address provided, brought him to the one government office he last expected: The Center for Disease Control and Prevention. Yet, strangely, the two men waiting for him outside were FBI. The haircuts and styles of suits was a dead giveaway.

Mr. Barns. H’yeah, without a doubt, FBI. What you will be briefed on is strictly class—

He waved the first agent off looking between both of them. I’ve read as much. Now who’s going to tell me what this is about? I mean, CDC?

Sir, it will really be better if we discuss this inside.

They went up the steps, through the door, and once it closed, Quincy came at them again. So, those guys we hit were infected with a biological weapon, right?

The second agent kept his eyes straight ahead while eluding, In a manner of speaking.

Mr. Barns, the first agent resumed, We could explain exactly what affected those subjects you opened fire on, but you simply could not accept the facts until they’re readily apparent with no margin for alternative explanations.

The three went to the front desk to sign in with the first agent. The agent said, Delta Bravo.

Yes sir, the deskman said while typing. I’ll program the elevator for your floor.

Thank you.

Inside the elevator, Quincy tried to wrest more information out of them. Those guys didn’t have some flesh eating disease then. Something affected their state of mind.

The toxin cuts off their higher brain functions, actually, Agent Two corrected.

It also eliminates a number of key regulator pathways, meant to keep the body from damaging itself. Musculature activity is at a far higher percentage, but puts extreme wear on all the tissues. That’s what the lab people tell us anyway. Also, many glands are interfered with.

This isn’t something stupid they’re testing, is it? Quincy guessed.

No, Mr. Barns. It isn’t. To date the epidemic is possibly eight thousand years old. That’s where the earliest altered human remains dated back.

Excuse me! he exclaimed. "What do altered human remains mean?"

The condition changes people in one of two ways, depending on what they’ve been affected by. In both cases, they become too dangerous to allow into any society.

So how contagious is it?

The elevator doors parted, and only then did it occur to Quincy they hadn’t gone up. Just from the look of the walls alone, he realized this floor wouldn’t be on any blueprint or floor plans.

They passed a few offices, but many more labs, gymnasiums and supply rooms. The two agents led Quincy to a conference room with four others, strangely, queued to follow them in.

From behind him, he heard a voice say, Mr. Barns.

Turning around he faced a tall Black woman, I’m Anita Mitchell, the director of a special department in FEMA.

Quincy noticed the man beside her. From his build, he knew he’d trained in a Special Forces unit. And I’m the tactical officer for this center’s Squad Fives, the man said.

Mr. Barns, Anita started.

Quincy, please.

She visibly conceded. Quincy. I’m going to show you a video file of an incident handled by our department. I want you to understand this particular video is from nineteen seventy one and the film is the original with no enhancement or digital alteration.

Another person opened up the wall behind her, revealing a plasma screen. She pointed a tiny remote at it.

A scene from a black and white security camera presented an indeterminate building that appeared vacant. Then the camera panned inside the building, capturing a man with white hair wearing slacks and ties-died shirt bolting past, with a crew equipped similarly to what Quincy saw in South America, hot on his heels.

The view cut to the white haired man caught between two groups approximately fire team sized. With him was a woman just as pale and white haired as he. The man backed her into a wall and stood in front with one arm out to stay the teams armed for close quarters. No, please. We can’t help it. Don’t hurt her!

At first, they didn’t. The cut off team sent both spear pairs to stab the man, once in the heart and the other into the liver, and together lifted him off the floor, screaming. The pursuit team tried to do the same to the woman, but she bolted. The heavy weapons operator was clearly not willing to set her ablaze at close proximity. He did spray a narrow stream down after her, but Quincy couldn’t tell if the flames touched her.

The white haired man pulled himself off the spears, so hard he flung himself over the other team, landing behind them. He immediately grabbed one of the spearmen and, with one hand, flung him at the rest so hard they impacted drywall in a mass with enough force to break through.

The cut off team moved in quickly, stabbing, and then lifting him again for the flamethrowers to do its work. The screams of agony flashed in Quincy’s mind at the sight of a rebel execution squad; a group to which he’d been assigned. They set fire to the huts of farmers refusing to serve their cause.

They put the human torch down and set their riot shield, likely covered in fire resistant spackle, while slowly backing away. The dying man made no effort to come after them again, writhing in excruciating pain.

There was more to the video, with them racing for the woman, but Anita shut it off, giving a summation. They eventually caught up with her. In an effort to bite one of the team, she left a minor injury. He exhibited symptoms similar to a mild fever for a couple of days from which he recovered. Her arm and part of her face was burned, but she managed to escape and elude them for another three weeks.

Quincy raised a hand from the chair at the end of the table in which he sat. "Ah, the guys we saw weren’t albinos and had sores. The two here looked pretty healthy. Damn healthy from that throw."

If there’s enough blood loss that the victim would otherwise die and sufficient toxin is introduced through the initial exposure, the ghoul condition manifests.

Ghoul... as in dead guy eats people?

The tactical officer added, "Delta Brave is an official designation stemming from a joke calling them and the vampire’s dead beats. It’s the vampire or night walker you saw in the..."

Quincy cut in after blinking and shaking his head frantically to verify he heard correctly. Vampires! All right. Who put you guys up to this? I’ll admit it’s funny, but I was pulled out of an operation for a prank? I got things to get back to.

He stood to leave, but another of the men stepped in front of him silently with a hand up.

Mr. Barns, Quincy, Anita corrected herself. "This is very serious. How many people have you met who could slam four men through a wall like that? I’d wager none."

Particularly after sustaining injuries as you just saw, the tactical officer reminded.

Quincy made to step around the man blocking him, but was barred again. He turned and snarled at Anita. You people better have something more than some cheap video!

We have, Anita said, if you’ll come with us.

They went to one of the larger labs where a number of people were working. Anita waved off another woman looking into a microscope asking her something Quincy didn’t catch. The other woman nodded and Anita called to him. If you take a look you’ll see a sample of vampire tissue extracted before the individual was pacified. We kept it alive for analysis.

He looked into the stereo eyepieces to see, what was explained as infected white blood cells among normal red blood cells. The white blood cells partially enveloped the smaller red semi-doughnut shaped cells like an ameba and differed by not engulfing the lesser cell. He watched as something was passed into the blood cell.

Anita and the other watched on a monitor tied to the microscope, and commented. That’s similar to how the disease is distributed throughout the body after initial infection. There’s no medium like a virus or bacteria to pass on the new genes. Viruses, in fact, aren’t large enough to pass on more than ten to twenty thousand bases pairs at most.

So how does it pass between people?

Through red blood cells primarily. Along with an extensive genome, in the form of a plasmid like loop of RNA wrapped around certain functional protein groups, there are a number of complex molecules, hormones and enzymatic prions.

What’s a prion? he stopped her for clarification.

"Mad Cow Disease is conveyed by a prion. It’s a rogue protein with the same amino acid sequence, but slightly altered shape. The several types involved in this epidemic behave as enzymes in accelerating certain chemical reactions. Also present is the enzyme