Cheryl grabbed hold of the two kids as the voice stepped into view from the inner corridor. He was tall, six foot, and very slim. His kind face glanced down at the shotgun.

“Hey man,” Proctor said. “We are just looking for a place to bed down.”

“Where you from?”

Cheryl looked him over, noting the military style boots.

“Came down from Washington. Look, I’m a real cop.”

“You seem tame enough.”

He suddenly became rather awkward and lowered the threatening barrel.

“Sorry about the hardware. Had some trouble.”

He walked over to the bar and stepped behind it. They watched him take a glass and fill it with bourbon.

“I’m Cheryl and this here is Doctor Proctor.”

The chap took a long swig.

“A doctor eh? Where were you when this lot went down?”

“Trapped inside a hospital. I do like to know whom I’m addressing.”

The chap smiled.

“USN pilot French at your service.”

“How long have you been here?” Cheryl asked.

“About seven weeks I suppose. Hell, I have the copter out rear.”

“You just flew off?” Proctor asked.

“Course I did. The world was going to hell man. You see, I was there at the start.”

The doctor glanced at the cop.

“I think you have a story to tell.”

The pilot swigged and smiled.

“I took a team to Arctic One to check on them. When we got there though, everyone was dead. So we came away and left it to the CDC to run their investigation.”

The doctor sighed loudly.

“So that is where it came from.”

“Sure did. My co-pilot coughed you see. He was heading back to Washington to start his holiday.”

“We had the first outbreak in Washington.”

“Damn right you did. The CDC abandoned going to Arctic One in order
to concentrate upon that.”

The doctor suddenly brightened.

“I don’t need to go to the CDC after all then.”

“You were heading there?” French asked.

“I wanted to check something. Now my plan has changed drastically.”

Cheryl suddenly realised what he meant.

“You are not thinking about going there I hope.”

“Don’t you see,” Proctor said. “The original virus will be there.
What we are dealing with is a mutation. Eh...Its offspring if you like.”

“What would be the point?” French asked.

The doctor took a swig of his drink and carried on.

“I’m no virologist but I know how things work you see. Most viruses
have protein receptors that link to our own. A kind of key if you like. Once inside, they hijack the cell and it produces duplicates.”

“I can follow that,” French grinned.

“Ah but wait and hear this. The RNA makes mistakes. Each new virus particle is different from its mom so to speak.”

“So how does that help us?” Cheryl asked.

“The progenitor could hold the key to defeating this contagion.”

The pilot laughed.

“A little late don’t you think?”

“Better late than never my mom used to say.”

“You’ll never make it there,” Cheryl protested.

Proctor tapped the pilot’s arm.

“He can take me.”

“Now hold on mate. I don’t know how I survived this, and you want me to stick my head inside the lion’s den a second time?”

The doctor shook his head.

“Everyone alive so far is a freak. In any disease outbreak, certain genetic markers protect certain individuals. It’s a kind of insurance against extinction.”

“So you are telling me that this thing can’t cook me?”

“Yes French. That’s precisely what I’m saying.”

The pilot thought it over as Cheryl glanced between them.

“Wait a second. The kids can’t go.”

“You will have to stay behind and protect them here,” Proctor said. “When I finish at this base we will head back for you.”

“I have enough fuel to reach the Canadian border. We can pick up more at the airbase outside Montreal.”

“How about getting back?” Cheryl asked.

“The arctic base has its own supply. That’s not really a problem.”

The doctor toasted him as Mundy yawned.

“Can we go to bed now?”

French smiled.

“Upstairs and first on left. We can leave around eleven mate.”

As the glasses clinked, the tired cop took the kids to their sleeping quarters.

The pilot glanced at Proctor.

“This had better be worth it doc.”

The kid’s waived farewell as the military copter took to the air.

“No need to look nervous doc. I did this for a living.”

“That’s what worries me.”

The flight to Montreal was long and rather boring. When they refuelled at the abandoned airbase, they headed north once more.

As they crossed the frozen tundra, the pilot said rather absentmindedly, “I forgot to say mate. We found one of the snowmobiles gone. Seems as though one of the team perished in the snow.”

“You didn’t try and find him?”

The pilot shook his head.

“Not my call.”

After many hours, the copter settled down on the icy pad and they dashed into the brightly lit but lifeless base.

“Where do you want to go?” the pilot asked.

“Preferably the lab.”

“This way then mate.”

Proctor followed the pilot deeper inside the base until they entered the lab room. The doctor saw the smelly goo upon the table and shook his head.

“This must have been the original sample. Far too decomposed now though.”

“How about this scope?” French suggested.

The doctor wandered over and gazed into the viewer.

“It’s been preserved. This scientist knew what he was doing alright.”

French coughed.

“It was a she by the way.”

“Never mind that. Hmm...”

He gazed down, trying to remember his med school days.

“Anything interesting doc?”

“This is certainly the mom alright. It’s the craziest virus that
I’ve seen though.”

“I don’t quite follow.”

The doc looked up.

“It’s built like all RNA viruses but with a crucial difference.”

“Which is?”

“The damn thing uses DNA.”

“Like what we have got?” French asked.

“Exactly I’m afraid. The double helix is undeniable.”

The pilot saw the look upon his face.

“That’s bad news right?”

“It damn well is mate. We need a bio weapon to deal with this sob.”

He stepped back and placed his hand to his quivering mouth.

“What could kill it?”

“Well French...Ultra violet or extreme radiation is deadly to DNA
organisms. Problem is, we can’t use that solution. Even if we could.”

“So how about those protein receptors you told us about.”

“They are all there. Exactly like an RNA virus particle. Our problem now is how to fit a different lock.”

The pilot knew a little about protection and made a suggestion.

“We produce antibodies right?”

“Spot on. When the body identifies a threat it creates them.”

“So these antibodies are taken from blood and used to produce vaccines,” French continued.

“That’s correct. We use eggs to grow it.”

The pilot smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“The solution has been staring us in the face all along then. We must have those antibodies.”

Sadly, the doctor knew better.

“I examined blood from those who had been exposed, and saw no sign of them. Sorry to blow such a great idea to bits.”

“Which means this thing simply hasn’t gotten to us yet then.”

“That is what I think. Now doctor, how do we create a bio weapon here?”

He gazed around at the lab and scratched his head in puzzlement.

“What do we need?” the pilot asked.

“A few more samples would certainly help.”

He spotted the freezer and opened the door.

“Good girl...We got some here. I’ll start making up slides. You had better roll your arm down.”

“You want my blood?”

Proctor glanced at him.

“Just a drop will do. Hope that you are not squeamish.”

Proctor put on a facemask, and the airman winced as the sample was taken. He watched as three drops were placed upon the waiting slide.

“Now let’s see.”

As Proctor watched, the virus rapidly multiplied within the sample.

“We are certainly not immune.”

He stepped back again.

“I still need something to turn the receptor off though.”

He gazed back toward the freezer and walked towards it once more.

As he looked inside, he spotted some mouse samples. Returning them to the table, he extracted some material and added the virus. He watched with fascination as it destroyed the host.

“Pretty quick worker I see. Now what would happen if...”

He added a sample of the unpolluted blood and watched the result.

“Now that is rather interesting.”

“What’s it doing?” the pilot asked.

“Not a lot mate. I need to splice some genes to create a new variant. Hmm...”

He looked around the lab and saw the device he needed. Smiling
happily, he took his slides over.

“This will take about twelve hours of hard work, so just take a nap eh?”

The airman wandered off, as Doctor Proctor set to work slowly.
...
After telling the kids a few stories, Cheryl had a sudden thought.

“Look kids we need to get fuel or else our trip to Cuba is off.”

“We were told to stay here,” Leslie reminded her.

“It won’t be far. What we need is an old-fashioned crank pump. In this backwater they just may have one.”

The squad car came to life and drew out of the hotel car park slowly. As they headed south, she quickly spotted a useful garage.

She pulled in and found the old-fashioned pump. It took roughly ten minutes to fill the tank, but it was certainly worthwhile.

“Already to head back are we?”

“Yes mam,” the kids replied.

Cheryl swung the car around and drove slowly toward the hotel. At a junction, two shots rang out and the car slewed.

“Everyone out now!”

She threw open the doors and the kids leapt out. As she arrived, she pushed their heads down.

“Why is someone shooting at us?” Mundy asked.

“They damn well took the front tyre out,” the cop hissed drawing the weapon.

Another shot rang out and the rear window shattered.

“We cannot stay here like stool pigeons,” she muttered.

She gazed around to their rear and saw a large warehouse opposite.

“See over there,” she pointed.

“Yes we can.”

“When I say, run for it and go inside.”

Cheryl counted three and leaping up unleashed a barrage of covering fire.

“Run for it!”

She joined the kids as they ran, her hail of bullets throwing the attackers off guard. As they shut the warehouse door, bullets smashed into it.

“We must look for a rear exit,” she hissed.

She grabbed their hands and ran toward the rear. As she gazed at the solid wall, Leslie whimpered, “There is no way out Cheryl. We are trapped.”

They swung around as the front door was kicked in, and two youths dashed inside armed with M3 automatic weapons. The trained cop knew that the game was well and truly up.

“We surrender!”

The youths looked at their catch and lowered the muzzles...Continues Mond...

this is really starting to get interesting,,,cant wait for monday!!:) :)

Ta...Mond refers to BST..

sorry,,,dont know what you mean by BST

Post just after midnight British Summer Time...

ta, :)