Chapter Two
Victor and a Mongolian Army Major observed the three Russian MI-8 troop transports swoop in at three p.m. Their rear clamshell doors swung open ready to take on troopers. Victor remembered with a shiver the deadly effectiveness of those ugly choppers in Afghanistan. He and the officer conferred in Russian with the pilots. The base had only three copters, so the Major decided to send them ahead with soldiers to block off both town exits. Victor then decided to switch tactics. He would leave as soon as the Chinese transport plane arrived. The Major concurred. In no time at all the troopships were loaded with soldiers and were on their way with a complete set of instructions. Under no circumstances were the Russians to place themselves in harm’s way. The roadblocks would be set a good distance from town, then the copters were to return to base. Victor waved a grateful good-bye.
The two American doctors were at the airport in early evening when a Chinese Air Force C-130 Hercules transport came into a smooth landing. Victor was not surprised to see his two old friends step out of the plane. The General came first. He was tall which accentuated his straight, proud military bearing and bald head. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, in a western three-piece gray suit with highly polished black Oxford type shoes, a gray silk necktie and a walking cane in his left hand. His high cheek bones and black eyes offset the huge smile on his small mouth. He limped a bit as he descended the stairs.
The girl came next. She was tall, possibly five feet eight, with a wiry athletic figure that, nevertheless, did not distract from her womanly attributes. Her long dark hair was fashionably combed back to reveal a striking, attractive face. Not for the last time did Victor wonder why she was still single. He forgot his musings when she charged past the General and threw herself into Victor’s arms and mashed her mouth against his.
When she came up for air, she whispered, “Say something, —Doctor.”
“It’s nice to see you, again. I thought I told you to stay home because of the possible danger?”
“I don’t hear so well.”
The American doctor looked over at the Chinese and extended his hand.
“Congratulations on your promotion. I’d say it was twenty years overdue.”
“Hello, again, and thank you for your sentiments. Now that I am a General you must no longer crack wise American remarks and you must show me proper respect.”
All three onlookers broke out in prolonged laughter befitting old friends. Victor led the way to the lounge where he gave his two companions all the information he had.
“You know as much as I do at this time. A plague has broken out in the village of Murdene. It’s up in the mountains on the Siberian border. As both of you probably know, the Black Death that struck Europe in the fourteenth century is said to have originated in Outer Mongolia when rats hitched rides with the caravans making their way to Western Turkey. There the goods were loaded on board ships that sailed to Southern Italy. The rats carried fleas that infected people and animals alike. Strangely enough the fleas lived without the rats in the caravan goods for as long as a year and sought out rats at their destination so that they could ride free. By 1350 Italy was devastated. The rats moved on to Germany, France and finally reached England in 1352. Europe lost one-third of its population. No one knows what caused the plague to disappear. We must prevent a recurrence. General, were you able to meet our needs?”
“I brought everything you asked for including flashlights and explosives along with hand grenades. I also notified the proper authorities who are on full alert while awaiting word from me.”
“Thank you. That stuff may prove useful. Sandra, what about the embassy?”
“We also alerted the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta. Someone is flying out with a team. The White House has also been notified, quietly, of course. Victor, what will you do at the village?”
“We must destroy the rat population if indeed the rats are responsible, I intend to burn them along with the victims and the whole village. Doctor McDowell is staying here to monitor any further outbreaks. We’ll be on a radio hookup. I will lead a party of Mongolian soldiers. We were to leave at dawn, but our Russian neighbors cooperated and sent three choppers to take an advance party of soldiers to block both village exits as we asked. Therefore, we leave no later than midnight.”
Sandra said, “The General and I wish to come along!”
“I won’t allow it because of the danger. You both stay here.”
The Chinese stood up and replied, somewhat testily, “You forget that I am a General. No one gives orders to a General. Am I clear on that?”
Victor smiled and chided the man by saying, “Please do not lose your sense of humor, my good man. You are ruining my feeling for ‘needling’ as we say in the States. Of course, you both may come along. Now, let’s have some dinner along with the best wine I can find.”
The biggest hurdle that Doctor Victor Cranston faced was to fend off his daughter’s demands for inclusion in the party. Under no circumstances would the good doctor accede to her demand.
“Antonia, we will not debate this question at all, at all. Do you understand? The trip is too dangerous. You must stay here with your grandparents. Remember what you told me? Then do your job and watch over the young patients. We’ll take a trip to China as soon as I return. All right? I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, daddy. I’ll take care of the patients, don’t you worry.”
Victor turned to Marcello Falcone, the grandfather, and said, “We must return to America when I come back from this trip. It is time for Antonia to go to school. Perhaps you and Lena can begin preparations.”
The man asked in a concerned tone. “Victor, is it bad? Is it really the plague again?”
“I am not sure. Take care of the family, old friend.”
“Take care of yourself and the personnel.”
Exactly at midnight. four trucks pulled out from the hospital compound with twelve armed Mongolian soldiers and a Major along with the equipment. Victor noticed the weapons but made no comment. He had made arrangements for a medical technician to be included in the party, along with the medical supplies. All members had taken penicillin shots. He could think of nothing else that he could have forgotten to do. The Chinese General and Sandra had been there with time to spare. Both were dressed in Mongolian army fatigues as was Victor. Two trucks had been equipped with a mattress so the General and Sandra slept in comfort. Doctor Cranston sat up front along with the Major. The moon showed bright and clear as the convoy left the quiet city and took the road to the West and Northwest.
The road was devoid of traffic at this time of night, so the trucks moved along quickly. Victor wanted to get to the halfway point, a town called Bulgan by no later than five a.m. because, at that point, the road became a secondary one, as the Major explained in his English learned in a Russian university. Cranston liked him immediately as well as the soldiers. There was something comforting in the officer’s explanations and actions.
They began to climb a few miles out of the city. Mountains formed an impenetrable chain to the east and north. To the south lay the Gobi Desert, the object of so many books, movies, and expeditions, stretching into China and beyond. Here and there Victor observed the fabled Mongolian houses known as yurts made with the world’s best felt material. Herds of sheep and goats wandered over the grasslands that ran westward. Everything looked picture postcard perfect. Victor wondered about this country’s future. It had declared its independence from the USSR and was now learning about democracy, an unknown factor in its turbulent history. The people were extraordinarily friendly, however: it would serve them well. He felt himself dozing off.
A shout from the driver brought him out of his rest. The headlights picked out shadowy figures waiting in the town square.
“Bulgan. Time to eat and catch some sleep,” explained the Major.
Victor watched, with some amusement, the General’s attempts to remain dignified as he stumbled from the truck and stretched his legs. Sandra jumped from the rear of the truck and seemed as fresh as she had been in the morning.
In no time at all several women brought out some food as well as hot, strong scalding tea. Everyone ate quickly and then the soldiers stretched out next to the trucks. Victor and the General reviewed the trip so far and all felt pleased by their progress. The Chinese exclaimed satisfaction concerning the roadblocks. He suggested a complete stop some distance from the village to don the protective gear. All agreed. At eight a.m. the convoy moved out toward the West. Victor wondered about what awaited them.
The trucks began to labor a half hour after departure as the grading gained altitude. Victor held his breath as the vehicles managed a series of switchbacks. Fortunately, a haze covered the gorges on his right thus preventing an attack of vertigo, something Victor had sometime experienced. He glanced at the Major. The latter’s impassive face registered no fear. Victor then looked straight ahead.
A cold wind was blowing from the north when the lead truck arrived at the roadblock at one p.m. The Major instantly engaged an officer in a lengthy debate. When the Chinese General joined in the talks, Victor and Sandra moved forward so they could see the village which lay in a shallow valley. The doctor shivered as he felt a foreboding run through him. The girl moved closer to Victor, seeking protection. He grabbed her hand.
She murmured, “I see no one alive. The silence is giving me the creeps.”
Victor also noticed the eerie quiet. It was oppressive, weighty, almost unbearable. He knew that eagles and hawks were plentiful in this area and so was wildlife such as mountain sheep, deer, and sometimes wild camels, but no animal was visible. Even the sun had lost some of its sparkle as it hung in the cloudless sky, dispirited and lifeless. The doctor turned away with a shudder, moved back to the General’s side.
The Chinese said softly, “You noticed the stillness, also. I feel a bit, shall we say, queasy.”
“I feel downright scared to death. What is going on in the discussion?”
“The men had to shoot several villagers who tried to escape this way. The bodies are over the edge of the hill if you care to inspect them. He said the men at the other end had to do the same thing.”
“At this point it might be smart for all of us to get into protective gear. If I may suggest, General, you stay here and oversee operations. I assume you brought field glasses. Keep a sharp eye over the valley. I will be carrying a radio, so we’ll be in touch.”
“Agreed. Will you check out our neighbors?”
“I certainly will. Please assign a few men as escorts. Without further ado and with your permission. —“
General Wu took charge. He gave the orders to don the special clothing. The men wasted no time in doing so. The oversized, cumbersome suits made walking extremely difficult and awkward. Voices sounded muffled and sepulchral. Victor looked for Sandra.
“The only reason I am allowing you to come along to the village is that you will report what you see to the embassy. Is that clear? For heaven’s sakes, stay close and don’t go off on tangents. I’m going down to take a look. Wait here.”
Two men accompanied Victor as he moved off the hill. Doctor McDowell had told him what to look for: lumps sometimes as big as an orange in the lymph nodes under the arms or in the groin causing high fevers and excruciating pain. First inspection confirmed the diagnosis. All the dead people’s faces showed contortion of the features, somewhat like figures from Middle Age paintings, thought Victor. The doctor motioned to the soldiers. All three men rolled, pulled and pushed the bodies in one pile. At a signal from Victor, a soldier aimed a long nozzle at the victims. A stream of fire shot out, engulfed them in a blazing funeral pyre. Victor watched the blaze with twinges of regret, but he did not dwell too long on the hillside. He motioned to the two soldiers to follow him back up the hill. The doctor reported it to the General.
“It’s bubonic, no doubt about it. We’ll move into the village and check things out. Keep a sharp eye.”
The Chinese nodded yes.
Victor led the way to the village, a small one numbering no more than three hundred people. But Victor worried about other humans on the outlying farms who may not have been in town. He shrugged that thought off; that would be another problem. He tried not to think about Kipling’s poem concerning the valley of death.
The road was quite uneven and rocky forcing the team members to move gingerly and slowly down the hill encumbered by heavy tanks on their backs. Victor arrived at the edge of the village and stopped. He could see no movement, nor could he see any bodies. He wondered about that. Where could everyone had gone? He made a motion to the searchers to be on the lookout for rats. They agreed. He smiled a bit as he observed the frightened faces. He gave a thumbs-up sign and pointed. Some soldiers fanned out and moved through the silent streets. Sandra was right on Victor’s heels as he walked down the main street. The way led to the inevitable village square. He knew then, instinctively, where the victims were. He was right.
They seemed to be sleeping peacefully, all arranged in circles with the women hugging their dead children on the inside and the men lying on the outside in some kind of protective shield. Victor realized that the maneuver had been a useless one, but he recognized the need for it, understood that the villagers in their ignorance of epidemics had misjudged the enemy. He wondered what mechanism in the rats made them move out of their shelters. Then he remembered that rats could live with infected fleas for a long period of time before becoming crazed. He also remembered that the best carrier was the ordinary black house rat, a rat that had been man’s companion, along with the cockroach, since Adam’s days. and was now known to be susceptible to the plague. He stopped short. The rats! Where were the rats?
He motioned to the soldiers to check the houses. They moved out went from dwelling to dwelling, some modern, most of them traditional. He reported the news to the General.
“General, can you hear me?”
Victor waited for a few seconds. He felt relieved to hear the Chinese’s voice.
“Victor, I hear you. Report in, please.”
“We found the villagers. We see no survivors. They all arranged themselves in neat circles in the village square. We will proceed to burn them along with the dwellings. However, we see no rats. Any ideas?”
“I inspected the area through the glasses. I saw what looked like a mine opening off to the north. You might check that out. I heard from the capital. The team from Atlanta is getting here late tonight. It will reach us tomorrow. Be careful, my friend.”
Victor delegated two men to burn the bodies and three more to burn and demolish the houses. He motioned the others to follow him. Sandra moved along by his side.
They found a path along with tiny footprints and rat droppings that led to an opening in the nearest cliff. Victor did not look back when he heard the swish and roar of the flamethrowers. The dry dwellings caught fire and burned quickly. The explosions came in steady thunderclaps that echoed and re-echoed through the valley. The heat reached him even as he moved away as rapidly as he could. He made a mental note that this path would have to be cleaned and bulldozed over. He wondered how many more paths they would uncover. All stopped at the mine entrance and waited. Victor knew what the wait meant. He wished he was somewhere else as did the team members. The silence ran on as everyone looked at the entrance. It was perhaps fifteen feet across; no one dared guess the tunnel’s depth. Heavy beams shored up the entrance; supports were spaced at intervals along the tunnel’s walls and ceiling. Victor was lucky in a way. The suit prevented him from hearing squealing noises as well as the patter of tiny feet. Otherwise, he might have done the sane thing: he might have turned around and headed for home. He signaled Sandra to stay outside. The doctor took a flashlight from the nearest soldier, took a deep breath, and walked slowly into the mine.
He flashed the powerful light toward the ceilings and walls and then straight ahead. The beam illuminated the darkness and showed a very deep tunnel, running far into the interior. The soldiers followed after checking their portable flamethrowers. Sandra disobeyed orders and moved with them. About two hundred feet inside, Victor thought that the team had deployed in the wrong shaft. He could see nothing. The doctor was in the process of turning around when a soldier motioned with his hand and pointed to the right. Victor moved warily into the opening. Then he saw them.
His blood froze; he felt unsteady; his legs turned to rubber; he could not breathe; fear took control of his brains, turned them into mush. Thousands of green hungry eyes dispelled the darkness and made the short tunnel a vision of hell. Every member of the party stared open-mouthed and silent. The soldier panicked. He reached inside his large pocket, pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin and heaved it into the shaft. His aim was bad. The grenade hit the ceiling beam and exploded. Victor reacted —too late. He had no time to retreat. He had just enough presence of mind to hit the slimy cave floor. The small bomb went off, sent shrapnel whizzing past his ears. Damage done to the rats was insignificant; havoc inflicted on the cave was total. Victor was still in a daze when he felt a rumbling behind him. He turned just in time to see the cave ceiling come crashing down, blocking his escape. In a moment of terror that was worse than anything he had ever previously experienced he realized that he was trapped along with thousands of crazed hungry rats!
