Chapter 11
The ferry horn pierced the thick morning fog between Orient Point at the North Fork's tip and Plum Island, jet black great cormorants watched the ferry pass from their perches atop the wooden piling as the ferry cut through the water and entered Plum Gut Harbour. Sam and Dean stood side by side at the ferry's railing breathing the sea air and swallowing down a trepidation that had more to do with science and bureaucracy than anything else.
Sam had researched and done what he could to prepare them both. Dean had listened grimly like a student cramming for a test for which failure was not an option.
They both knew it wasn't enough.
Stanford Pre-law wasn't enough and a GED and a can-do attitude, sure as hell wasn't. Bullying and false bluster might be though, they were there to ask the questions not the other way around.
...
Joseph O'Keef was a tall prematurely grey man with blue eyes that swum behind fashionably framed glasses, he had a pompous dementor and a perfectly pressed suit, his Oklahoma accent and impeccably shined shoes set Deans teeth on edge, but nothing about the man spoke of mad scientist - The man was a bureaucrat an uncomfortable, slightly flustered one, at that.
As they passed through the barbed wire fences and were searched by Department of Homeland Security agents it was clear that the way had definitively been paved for them.
The agents stationed on Plum Island were not the cream of the crop, there were little signs, but they were obvious, their discipline was lax, their checks cursory. They looked at Sam and Dean like they were sharks in a goldfish pond and no one wanted to tangle with them. The brothers exchanged relieved glances as they were ushered into the lab grounds themselves.
…
Behind the large white framed blue and red sign emblazoned with the homeland Security crest and the words "Plum Island Animal Disease Centre," sat the laboratory itself. Surrounded by a vast expanse of stunted sea grass it seemed to hunch in wait. Built first in 1911 and remodeled in 1954 the buildings frontage was dusty rose and white stone with white framed windows, the peaked section at the front framing and curving away from a large entrance guarded by stout stone pillars. Behind that the rest of the rambling structure was made up of clunky white rectangular buildings that looked very much added on as an afterthought.
...
The bureaucracy was beginning to drive Dean insane he shot his brother a pained look as 'the induction process' continued. Documents requiring reading and signing, affidavits promising "avoidance of contact with cattle, sheep, goats, deer and... swine for 5 days." Crash courses in emergency procedures and standard laboratory protocols.
Once Sam had made it clear that "they would be requiring access to all levels of the facility as they saw fit" a small flap ensued and a grave looking scientist in a white coat drew a vial of blood from each of them for a base line serum sample...more paperwork...
Dean tried not to fidget and let Sam take point, thinking that if the whole process had any more red-tape, it would strangle him. He supposed that the mad scientists at PIADC were being careful to follow every procedure by the book and make a good showing, he knew that it was a sign that they were being taken at face value. That they were feared not suspected.
He was also beginning to suspect the mad scientists weren't mad, they were just geeky smart, slightly worried by the scrutiny and frigging boring. Dean eyed his little brother wondering if Sam was enjoying the geek fest or if he was also longing to run screaming. What the heck had they gotten themselves into?
….
Joseph O'Keef left them alone in his office while he went to fetch "one of the lab staff to do the tour and someone to give them computer access, and show them all the documentation."
Shaking his head in bemusement Sam discovered the man hadn't even locked his computer before leaving, taking the chance he quickly copied all his personal files and emails for examination later; while Dean riffled through the man's desk, finding nothing more incriminating than a hip flask and a few photos of Mr O'Keef at last year's Christmas party, wearing what appeared to be a tutu and fairy wings while assisting Santa giving out presents to a bunch of kids.
"Dean put that back!" Sam hissed as Dean screwed the lid back on the flask.
"Sam, come on. It's practically medicinal. I'm replacing the fluid that lab leech took." He grumbled replacing everything, Sam shot him a look that clearly said his brother was both irresponsible, irritating and how they were ever related was one of life's mysteries.
...
When Joseph returned, he was accompanied by a stout middle aged guy wearing comfortable jeans and a casual shirt - and a kid.
Sam found himself wondering if it was 'bring your kid to work day,' the kid hung back behind the two men as if looking for protection and only stepped forward when she was introduced as "Sara Keene one of our senior virology technicians."
"Senior?" He found himself querying as his hand engulfed her tiny one and she looked up at him from behind a pair of glasses that looked way too big for her, big blue eyes and a face scattered with freckles. She seemed to cringe away from contact with him but lifted her chin with a look of defiance.
"Sara's 23 and has been with us for two years now... she is very good at her job agent Singer." Joseph O'Keef informed him in a cool Oklahoma tones "Granted she is the youngest tech here at PIADC, but seniority here has to do with ability and qualifications, not size or age." He continued and Sam got the feeling he'd just kicked the lab mascot.
Dean stepped forward into the awkward silence that followed "Don't mind agent Singer, one of our other co-workers calls him Moose. He means well, but, he went and ruined his brain with studying law at Stanford, before we got hold of him" Dean shot his brother a warning look.
The stout guy stepped forward "I'm Steve, Steve Weir. I'm PIADCs MSO which is a Microbiological Safety Officer. That means I'm the bloke that makes sure no one breaches containment or stubs their toe, I'm also keeper of the procedural paperwork and incident reports and I've got all the audit reports and accreditation details" He looked between the two agents expectantly "Which one of you is up for death by paperwork?" Dean stepped back quickly and grinned at the kid "That sounds right up Agent Singers alley, doesn't it? Where are we off to?"
The kid shot Joseph a complicated look that was part pleading for help, part grumpy kid that's been told to tidy her room AND entertain her annoying cousin at the same time. The stuffed suit simply turned and walked away.
"Well I have Work to do in cell culture" she said emphasising the word work while eyeing Joseph O'Keef's retreating back
"So, I guess there, if that's not a problem?"
...
Dean sat uncomfortably attired in a lab coat, blue shoe coverings and a surgical mask, he was perched on a swivel chair with his back to a bench containing a complicated looking microscope. After explaining that the cell culture lab was a clean space and that they were wearing all the protective getup to protect the cell cultures from contamination, the kid had ordered him to sit and not touch anything. For once Dean was actually doing what he was told. The weird scientific stuff made him nervous.
Now the little despot was seated in front of a large metal box with a glass front that gave off the constant rumbling of air suction, she was gloved, double gowned and face masked with what appeared to be a tray of eggs, a selection of glass dishes, metallic instruments and bottles of funny coloured pink liquid in front of her in the 'Biohazard cabinet' .
"What are you doing" Dean queried. "That's if you can talk an' work"
She looked over her shoulder at him "Yeah I can do both, this stuff gets kind of automatic. The short answer is I'm making an embryo chicken liver cell culture" she snorted looking at Deans incomprehension "I can tell you what I'm doing step by step and why, maybe then, please, can you tell me why you're here. Joseph didn't really tell me anything and I don't see how I can help you without knowing what you're looking for." She squirted clear fluid over the egg shells.
"Viruses need living cells to reproduce, they hijack the cells and sort of set them to work making copies of themselves. Here in cell culture we make and grow cell lines. Right now, I'm harvesting the livers of these chicken embryos to produce a primary cell line" she fished a featherless chick out of the shell and laid it spread eagled on a glass Petri dish. "The chicks themselves are dead, but the cells are still viable" with a pair of small metal scissors she chopped open the chick fished around in its guts with some tweezers and pulled out a tiny pink lump. "We take our organ of choice" She held up the lump of glistening tissue "and digest it down into single cells and seed it into cell culture flasks, containing growth medium. They adhere to the plastic of the flask in a single layer. We then use the cell culture to grow virus either out of diagnostic samples or of known virus we are studying. I'll show you yesterday's lot once I've got these done."
Dean watched her work in horrified fascination, once she had degutted all the chicks and retrieved all the lumps she added them to a flask of pink fluid with a white rod in it that whizzed round and round on top of a small metal device with a dial on the front.
"So now it's your turn she said simply "how can I help?"
"We are here because there have been allegations that things are being made here that shouldn't be." Dean said carefully.
The kid started laughing then shook her head with a sigh of exasperation "Seriously? Which ruddy politician's read Michael blasted Carrolls book now? Every couple of years some idiot thinks they've found PIADCs deep dark secret and starts another Montauk monster hunt. I've worked here for 2 years, been over every inch of Plum Island. Worked with every scientist, we're like a family here, even the annoying ones like Woldeck." She shook her head "especially the annoying ones like Woldeck, he's sexist and racist and a pompous know it all, but everyone here works hard to protect America, from things that the public don't even know to be worried about. The media and politicians who are out to make a name for themselves, they scaremonger and accuse public servants like us of being evil mad scientists cooking up sinister plagues to start the next apocalypse." The kid sighed "I don't suppose there's any point in shooting the messenger though… I just wish they understood we are trying to protect everyone in America here"
A timer beeped and she poured the digested chicken livers through a filter covered funnel into a tube of liquid, capped it off then took it over to a balance by the opposite wall and made a tube of water to match.
"So now we spin this down in the centrifuge to sediment out the cells, count it and seed it into a culture flask. Later-on I'll inoculate yesterdays ones with some suspected avian influenza samples."
...
It had been a long day. Sam and Dean stood side by side on the return ferry feeling exhausted... and one of them felt...very clean.
After traipsing all over the facility, looking in every lab building in the complex, talking to every staff member and digging through a mountain of paperwork their last visit had been to the Biosafety level 3+ lab.
By that point it had become very clear that Plum Island Animal Disease Centre was not, nor ever had been, creating genetically modified sea monsters.
When it had been explained that, the only thing that went into the lab, that didn't come out via a giant autoclave, was naked people and those people would be thoroughly decontaminated a frantic game of paper scissors rock ensued.
Somehow, Sam lost.
It had been a slightly mortifying experience to strip naked and traipse through the air lock. Sam had been even more mortified that the lab scrubs available for visitors were on the snug side on his lanky frame. Following Steve round the lab and faking interest in all the science stuff had been… hard work. The stripping naked yet again and decontamination "showering out," then standing dripping waiting for the airlock to cycle a change of air, had done Sam's hair no wonders at all.
But the whole experience had removed the remnants of his unwanted fake tan rather nicely, Dean thought.
"Well what did you think of our trip to lab land" Dean drawled.
"If I never see another lab coat for as long as I live, it will be too soon" Sam muttered darkly.
"So, it's back to the drawing board?"
"Heck yes, I'm almost relieved" Sam exhaled ruffling his very clean hair "it's gotta be supernatural, which means we hit the lore."
Dean looked back towards the fast retreating Island "That kid back there thinks she's protecting America" he mused.
"I guess she is."
"Doesn't seem right to let a kid do the job of protecting us" Dean humphed
Sam chuckled and stared at his brother amused "How old were you, your first hunt, Dean? How old was I?"
"Yeah I know, but...the whole invisible deadly diseases thing... I've never thought about it before... and now I know… a kid's got the job..."
"It's no different" Sam shrugged "let her protect us from the stuff we don't know about and we'll protect her from the stuff she doesn't know about."
A/N Sorry for the trip to 'Labcoat land' folks you can take the girl out of the lab but you can't take the lab out of the girl. It was just across the water and I couldn't help visiting. Surely you gotta give me a few points for letting you watch Sam in the shower though… Seriously though folks decontamination showering is s-o not sexy it's just part of the job. Send reviews and maybe I'll stop torturing you with science and get back to hunting monsters.