Chapter 77. War
Charlie Winston was having a great time relaxing with his son Teddy. Murielle was given one day of rest, but then was ordered back to headquarters again to finish up her work. The C.D.C. still had a lot of work to do in synthesizing a virus from the snake’s oil. Teddy hated to give up his purple snake, but now that he could walk, he was much more interested in playing baseball. All day, Winston had been at the park with Teddy, marveling as he hit the ball and ran around the bases. Winston had never been so happy. After a long afternoon of catch with his son, Winston drove his son to the supermarket. Tonight, they were going to celebrate with some steaks. He couldn’t wait. He had not tasted good food in weeks. He drove home and fired up the gas grill on the back patio. He grilled up the steaks and even added his own recipe special sauce. Wearing an apron over his gray Atlanta Braves T-shirt, he carried the plate of steaks into the kitchen. “Grub’s on!” he yelled to Teddy. Teddy ran from his room to help set the table. Before he could sit down to eat, however, the doorbell rang. Two FBI agents wearing dark sunglasses and unpleasant faces were at the door.
“Mr. Winston, you need to come with us, sir,” said the agent.
“Ah, hell no! C’mon! We are just sitting down to dinner. I already told everything to you guys and my wife has, too. We gave you the snake. What more do you want?”
“Sir, my orders are to take you into custody. Please come with me.”
“Am I being arrested?”
“Sir, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You and your friends entered the country illegally in violation of a Presidential Order. That’s a federal crime. Now, we don’t want to arrest you. We just need to get some information. But if you give us a hard time, we can break out the cuffs. Your call.”
“Oh, man. I cannot believe you are complaining about that. I helped save the whole country, for cryin’ out loud. I am here with my boy, and I do not have a sitter. Can I at least make arrangements for my mom to come over?”
The first agent looked at the other and they nodded. “Sure, we will wait. But be quick.”
Teddy was disappointed. His first night with his dad after he could walk. And now he would be alone again.
“Sure, Daddy, I understand,” he said glumly. “But can you call Tina to babysit? Grandma’s cooking is terrible, and her feet smell like cheese.”
“Sure thing, buddy, I will give her a call.” Winston made arrangements for the sitter and text messaged his wife to let her know what was going on.
“While we are waiting for the sitter, you guys want some steak?” Winston asked the agents.
“No, sir. We are on duty.”
Once the sitter arrived, Winston was escorted into the back of a black Suburban, where he was surprised to find John and Zach Morse.
“They picked you up, too?” asked Winston.
“Yes,” said Morse. “You think this whole thing relates to us sneaking back into the country?”
“No,” said Winston. “I imagine it is much more than that.”
The three exchanged stories during the car ride. The Morses were stunned to hear about Teddy’s paraplegia being cured, and congratulated Winston. The three men were brought to an FBI Field Office in Atlanta, where they were taken into three separate interrogation rooms. For the next three hours, FBI agents interrogated Winston, John Morse, and his son about their adventures in the Bay of Honduras. The FBI agents seemed to be most interested in the fact that the islanders had beheaded American citizens. They also went into great detail concerning the exact location of the island. After the de-briefing, the three men were left alone in the stifling heat in their interrogation rooms for several hours.
Washington, D.C. The Oval Office.
The President turned to a six-foot tall, lanky attorney named Chris Bieterman, who was the White House Counsel.
“Chris, what legal basis would we have for getting the rest of these snakes?”
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs interrupted. “Madame President, if I could just interrupt. We are in a crisis mode here. We need the rest of those snakes now. Once word gets out, every country, every pharmaceutical company, and every terrorist on the planet is going to be swarming to that island. We only have a brief window before everyone finds out. Excuse me for saying this, Madame President, but it’s a piece of dirt in the middle of the ocean with a bunch of natives with sticks. Not much of a resistance force. Who is going to care and who is going to know? We will overrun that place in ten minutes. It is not like we are invading Iran or something.”
“I’d still like to know if there are legal options. Chris?”
“Well, Madame President. Because the island is autonomous and not part of any established country, I think we can safely call the Island of Boyuca its own country. Now, American citizens were killed on the yacht. That is international waters. Under international law, that could not be construed as an act of defense. Rather, it was an act of aggression. And if we assume that the acts were sanctioned by their tribal leader, which I would equate with their country’s president, then we could argue that the murders constituted an act of war. With Congress’ approval, I think we would have the legal basis to attack their country in retaliation. And in war, Madame President, to the victor go the spoils. In any event, as we used to say in law school, possession is nine-tenths of the law. I say we invade now, get the snakes, and let us worry about the legal justification. We believe we can put together a justification paper which would withstand international scrutiny.”
“That works for me,” said the President. “Let’s have an invasion plan put together in the next hour. Oh, and by the way, Chris, I am not going to get the approval of Congress first. There are just too many loose lips down there on Capitol Hill. As the Commander in Chief, I can rationalize unilateral action first due to the fact that this will be a surprise attack. However, after we are in the air and literally over the target, we can talk to some of the Congressional leaders. Until then, mum’s the word.” She turned to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “How are you going to find the island?”
The Chairman replied, “We are going to take Winston and Morse with us.”
The President did not like the idea, but agreed that it was the only way.
Bay of Honduras.
Twelve hours later, Charlie Winston and John Morse unwillingly found themselves on an Apache attack helicopter, wind rustling through their hair, the sound of deafening rotors overwhelming them. Morse looked white as a sheet. He had never flown in a helicopter with the door open before. They had successfully retraced their steps through the air to get back to the Island of Boyuca. When they got over the island, Winston showed them the spot near the top of a mountain on the island where the healing pool was located. Winston and Morse had been told that this was just a mission to obtain the remainder of the purple snakes, in order to help the scientists develop a synthetic compound analogous to the snake’s oil. They had no idea that they were part of the spear tip of a combat attack force.
“That’s strange,” said Winston to Morse, looking out the open door.
“What is?” yelled Morse over the sound of the rotors.
“I do not see anybody down there. Do you think they are all hiding?”
“They have probably never seen helicopters before,” said Morse. “Remember, they had never seen an iPhone before. I bet a helicopter looks like a giant flying monster. They are probably all in the caves.”
Winston gave directions, and their helicopter hovered over the healing pool. Rope lines were lowered, and United States Marines in full combat gear slid down the lines to the ground below. They did a sweep of the area where the pool was and quickly reported that no one appeared to be in the area. Several of the Marines were in wet SCUBA gear. They slid down the lines next and made their way over to the healing pool. Using glowsticks, they dove into the pool. The three Marines in full SCUBA gear were underwater for five minutes. Soon, they emerged back on land. One of the dry Marines let his partner in the SCUBA suit borrow his helmet mike.
“There are no snakes down here,” he said.
“Roger that,” said the pilot. The leader of this mission leaned over to speak to Winston and Morse.
“They are saying there are no snakes in the pool. In fact, they do not see any purple snakes anywhere. Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Positive,” said Winston. “Test the water. Have someone give themselves a cut, and then pour the water from the pool over it, and see if it heals.”
The leader called down to his forces. One of the Marines gave his hand a small cut and then he dunked it in the water. After two minutes, he reported that nothing was happening. It was not healing.
“You sure that is the only location where the snakes were?” asked the leader.
“Positive,” said Winston, and Morse agreed.
“Okay, guys, let’s do a search and sweep. Find me anyone that is moving.”
Meanwhile, in Washington, D.C., the President was announcing to members of Congress that she was declaring war on the Island of Boyuca. When the members of Congress were explained how the snake oil was such a miracle drug, there was a quick evening vote. Only one member of Congress dissented. Every other Congressman was picturing some way he or she could cure someone they knew, or make money on the deal. A formal declaration of war was entered in the record and signed by the President. The Members of Congress signed on to the White House Counsel’s rationale that American lives had been taken in international waters, at the behest of the Boyuca’s leader.
For the next day, Marines poured out onto the beaches of Boyuca. The soldiers found two or three dozen natives. With an interpreter, they tried to learn where the purple snakes had gone. But none of the natives seemed to know. Try as they might, they could not find a single purple snake. While they were there, John Morse asked permission of the Marines to bring back the full skeletal remains of John Cabot. The mission leader thought the request was funny, and gave Morse the green light. Having found no inhabitants, the mission was scrubbed, and the helicopters returned to America.
Winston looked to Morse in puzzlement. Where had everyone gone? The team leader gave the signal, and all of the attack helicopters left the airspace of the island, heading for home. As they rode back, Morse spoke with the team leader again.
“This looks like a lot of helicopters just to get a few snakes from a couple of island natives. Why is there such a large force?” The team leader smiled, lighting a cigar.
“As of an hour ago, Congress concurred in the President’s decision to declare war on Boyuca.” The team leader puffed on the cigar and laughed. “John, you are witness to the shortest war in American history. Ten minutes and no casualties. You want a cigar?”
“No thanks,” said Morse.
Washington, D.C.
The next day, the President learned from the FBI that they had successfully found Tom Bergman and his fishing partners in Minnesota. Bergman was treated at a secure military site in Minnesota. Even though he was in the full throes of the disease, the snake oil sent from Atlanta cured him. The FBI agent also located the gas station attendant Bergman had infected, and he, too, was cured by the snake oil.
The President also received a report from the FBI Field Office in Trenton, New Jersey. The DEA had known of a certain doctor named Dr. Bernard McGuire who was friendly with certain underworld figures. Having placed a phone tap on his line, they were able to retrieve the conversation between a low-level member of a drug gang named Mickey Kowalski and the doctor, which provided valuable information regarding the kidnapping of the two women from Trenton. Working with the DEA, the FBI located the warehouse where the two women were being kept. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, the two women were dead. Mickey Kowalski, on the other hand, was still there. They quarantined all the men at a local military base. All of the men were in the very early stages of the disease. The men were held for questioning for several days. When they began to complain of feeling sick, they were ignored. Within days, they developed full-blown symptoms from the virus. Unlike Tom Bergman, however, these men were not rescued with any snake oil. They died in captivity.
The only area of concern left in the United States was Boston. Extensive media coverage there had sent nearly a fifth of the city in for testing. Nearly every one of those tested came up negative, and the two dozen or so who were positive were caught early enough to be cured with the wonderful snake oil sent from Atlanta.
The President was surprised to hear of one more report from Chicago. A woman had taken her two children in for routine checkup, and their blood work came back strange. The observant pediatrician, on a hunch, had requested a field test for the Ebola virus. When the children came back positive, the family, as well as the pediatrician and her staff, were quarantined. Snake oil sent from Atlanta cured the family and they were eventually released. The doctors’ staff had all come back negative.
After waiting several more days, there were no new reports and everything looked clear. The President lifted the border lockdown, except for flights and shipments coming from Brazil or The Netherlands. Those countries were still having problems. The United States was sending them some of the snake oil, but one snake could only produce so much oil. A synthetic copy was being tested, but final development was not yet complete. Businessmen and women rejoiced as their products could now be imported into the United States. The Japanese were especially happy, as Hondas and Toyotas began hitting American shores again.
When the smoke cleared, over 2,000 Brazilians, over 500 Dutch, and 237 Americans had died of the Mackinac Ebola Virus. There was a great debate as to what should be done with Roessler, Graciano, and Chastain. Many Americans argued for summary execution; some argued that the men be treated as enemy combatants and be given a military trial. In the end, because all three men were American citizens, the President agreed that the three should be given a trial in an American courtroom. No attorney would agree to represent Chastain or Roessler, and their adoptive parents had refused to pay for a lawyer, so the District Court had appointed two young lawyers from the District of Columbia to represent them. Graciano was represented by his adoptive mother. The trial was many months away, and was already getting more media coverage than the O.J. Simpson trial.
The President, intent on retaining all rights to the snake oil from Charlie Winston’s snake, as well as from any synthetic compound which was developed to copycat the oil, had the White House Counsel retain patent lawyers in Washington, D.C., so that no one else could use it without being licensed by the United States. The President was shocked when the patent lawyers reported that the snake oil had already been patented with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office by a company called Boyuca, Inc., with offices in Los Angeles. The date on the registration was actually prior to the date that Charlie Winston landed back in the United States with his purple snake. The company clearly had a prior claim. And the patent covered not only the original oil, but any synthetic compound with a similar molecular structure. This Boyuca, Inc., whoever it was, was going to have the rights to everything. The President barked at her patent lawyers to look into it. There must be some way around this thing. She asked who owned Boyuca, Inc. The patent lawyers advised that according to the patent application, the President and CEO of Boyuca, Inc. was listed as the actor Skip Drame from Los Angeles.