WARNING!
This story revolves around high drama on an aeroplane. Following the recent events in America, some might not wish to read further. However, the story, disease, cure, airline and events are just the result of my over active imagination. No disrespect in intended in the writing of this story, but please review and above all enjoy :o)
The characters Steve Sloan, Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley and Tanis Archer are the property of VIACOM and CBS. I have only borrowed them and promise to put them back when I am done.
Dr Mark Sloan stood at the ER nurses station writing up the notes to his last patient, as his son, Steve got out of the elevator. "C'mon Dad. The plane leaves in a couple of hours!" "Just a second.There!" exclaimed the white haired physician as he filed his report and finished it off with a flamboyant signature that practically made the pen take off from the paper. "That was my last patient for the next two weeks," he continued cheerily. Just a both father and son were about to leave in the elevator, a call from behind made them stop in their tracks. "Hey, Mark, Steve." It was Drs Jesse Travis and Amanda Bentley hurrying along the corridor attempting to attract the attention of their friends. "Thought you were going to leave without saying goodbye?" asked Amanda with a mock look of disappointment on her face. "Sorry guys," apologised Mark and he hugged the female pathologist close. "You take care," he continued. "And Jess, you make sure you look after Amanda." "And 'Bobs'" chipped in Steve. Jesse grinned, his playful face showed all the 'plans' he had in mind for the BBQ restaurant whilst his partners were out of town.
The airport bustled with people. Passengers arrived from far and wide, all eager to see the sights of Los Angeles and the movie stars that resided there. Others waited for their departing flight to be called, so they could leave the city of angels for the myriad of destinations worldwide.
After queuing for nearly half an hour, just to check their luggage in, Mark and Steve made their way to the departure lounge to wait. The pair of them sat at a table and ordered a coffee each as they watched the planes come and go; tugs pulled a barrage of cases and bags, and handlers loaded the cargo into the respective dormant planes.
Suddenly, a familiar face caught Mark's attention. "Well, it looks like we are going to have an influential passenger with us on our journey across the pond," he remarked. "Who is he?" asked Steve as he noted the suited gentleman enter the lounge in front of a stroboscopic flood of camera flashes. "Senator Owen Watson," answered Mark. "He rose through the ranks from party canvasser to Senator in record time. Some say that there was a lot of money that couldn't legitimately be accounted for used in his election campaign." Steve's jaw tightened as he watched the politician make his way across the room and sit in one of the padded chairs on the far side of the room. The topic of conversation changed abruptly, as Mark announced, "I think I forgot to cancel the newspaper!" "It's OK Dad, I took care of it. Now will you relax, you're on vacation!"
******
Aboard the plane, Mark and Steve took their seats. Steve bundled their hand luggage into the locker space above their allotted seats. A mousy stewardess admired the athletic physique of the lieutenant and smiled her appreciation in his direction. Steve witnessed the attention he was receiving and returned the smile as he watched the beautifully elegant cabin attendant retire to the first class section after being summoned by one of the senator's concierge. "Found an admirer already?" chuckled Mark. "And we haven't even got off the ground yet!" Steve tossed his father a stare that told Mark he was most definitely right.
The flight to London was smooth. Mark was reading up on the latest techniques for laser surgery in coronary cases, and Steve consumed himself in an article concerning Dave Wright, and his fitness regime that helped him score the winning goal in last weeks football match at the LA Stadium. Their concentration was abruptly disrupted when one of the cabin attendants staggered, drunken like, along their aisle and collapsed less than six feet from their seats. One woman screamed.
Mark rose from his seat and felt for the man's pulse. "I'm a doctor," he said amid the encroaching crowd. "Is there somewhere quiet we can take him?" "Yes," replied the female steward who had shown an interest in Steve earlier. "We can take him to the upper lounge. It's quiet and not quite as public," she continued looking around at the increasing number of onlookers. "Steve, give me a hand to take him up," Mark instructed. "What's his name?" "Gavin. Gavin Olsen," stammered the young woman. Placing an arm around each of their shoulders, the pair of Sloan's carried the sick man up a level. Mark examined his patient more closely, but was disturbed by what he found. "He has a high temperature, weak pulse, enlarged glands and a rash developing on his upper abdomen. We need to get his temperature down before he starts to fit!" Both Steve and the female steward looked on in disbelief. "Do you have any ice? Mark asked the attendant with some urgency.
******
The announcement system at CGH crackled into life. "Phone call for Dr Travis - line one. Dr Travis - line one," the disembodied voice repeated. Jesse approached the ER nurses station and answered the phone. "Dr Travis, oh hi Mark..WHAT?!"
Jesse waved to Amanda, as she approached along the hallway, to join him at the nurse's station. His face showed distinct signs of apprehension and concern. Amanda looked on puzzled by her colleagues' expression and waited patiently for him to enlighten her.
Finally, Jesse hung up the phone and looked at the female pathologist, not quite sure where to begin. Grabbing her elbow he scanned the reception area before he dragged her off down the corridor and into the nearby doctor's lounge. Amanda protested to his rough treatment of her. At last they were alone.
Amanda sank into a conveniently positioned chair as Jesse told of Mark's suspicions aboard Flight 802. "Mark has arranged for Sergeant Tanis Archer to meet us at Gavin Olsen's apartment. He wants us to check his place out to see if we can find out what we are dealing with." "I'll get my things," replied Amanda as she ditched her flustered thoughts and resumed her professionalism.
Olsen's apartment bore little resemblance to the upmarket way of life he portrayed at work. Tanis had already questioned a few of his work colleagues and checked his personnel file from the airline's head office.
The dismal grey walls were decorated with patches of damp, and mildew was growing in an ever-encroaching pattern in one corner of the sitting room. The bedroom offered little respite from the state of disrepair. At least the walls were lined with wallpaper, even if the odd sheet had removed itself from the layer beneath, exposing the atrocities of an earlier decor and colour coordination that could only have been chosen by a blind man!
Amanda and Jesse looked around the room and then to each other. It was almost a relief, they thought, that both of them would be required to don surgical gloves.
Jesse took the bedroom, whilst Amanda agreed to make a start in the sitting room with detective Archer.
The bed lay, still unmade, in the left corner of the room. Clothes were strewn around the floor, having fallen where Gavin Olsen had dropped them, no doubt. The wardrobe faired little better. Jesse opened one of the cupboard doors only to be bombarded by a mountain of clutter. Photographs, letters, credit card receipts, books and various knick-knacks collected from countries he had visited. "I'd say his housekeeper had taken the past few years off!" joked Jesse. Amanda tossed him a rueful glance as her companion re-entered the sitting room. She rummaged through a pile of papers as Jesse continued on to the kitchen, his stomach rumbling loudly en route. "Hey don't touch anything, we don't know if he was poisoned," called the pathologist knowing full well Jesse would certainly check out the refrigerator.
Tanis headed toward the bathroom. The medicine cabinet offered little other than shaving foam, toothbrush and toothpaste, some aspirin and a half used bottle of cold remedy. Rummaging around in the wastebasket, the keen eyes of the detective spotted a disposable razor, complete with a smear of dried blood. Carefully, she dropped the razor into a clear plastic evidence bag and rejoined the others. "Amanda, do you think there is enough blood there to do an analysis on?" she asked hopefully. "I don't know. The quantity is so small, I could try." After a brief pause, Amanda spoke again. "Err, it looks like our Mr Owen had a bit of a cash flow problem. According to these bank statements, he is haemorrhaging red ink to the tune of about $50,000!" Tanis and Jesse each let out a low whistle. "Here it shows a credit of $10,000, but still it seems to have made no impact upon the balance. There's another.four deposits in this account for figures over $10,000!" "Where? Let me see," asked Tanis moving nearer Amanda.
Suddenly, from the kitchen the stunned voice of Jesse could be heard. "Oh my God!" The serious tone of the young doctor made both women look up from what they were doing. "Y-you guys better come and have a look at this." Jesse stood in front of an open chest freezer. Wafts of chilled air rose from the icy container into the warm Californian air like frozen fingers reaching out and snatching at the body of warmth that was the kitchen. Jesse's face looked pale and shocked. As the two women moved closer they could see for themselves what had Jesse transfixed. It was a man's body. His blue skin taught and hard; eyes wide and open still exhibiting the pain and fear that had consumed him upon his death. The three investigators looked on confused and horrified by their grisly discovery.
*****
Mark mopped Gavin Olsen's brow with a napkin dipped in some ice water. His patient's condition worsening as time progressed. "Excuse me, miss," he called to the cabin attendant. "You can call me Sally." "Thank you Sally," smiled the doctor. "Could you get me some more ice, please?" "Certainly, do you need anything else?" she asked helpfully. "Not at the moment, thank you. I've just got to try and bring your friend's temperature down." Mark looked back at his patient, his concern growing. "Dad," called Steve from the stairwell. "We've got a couple more sick people here." "Mark looked up horrified. Whatever this was it was spreading, and fast. "I'll get that ice," Sally said and she hurried off to the galley. Steve carefully laid the latest patients on the sofas lining the lounge. Mark quickly checked them over, his face told Steve he was right, however much he wished he wasn't. "Do you know what it is?" asked Steve not really sure if he wanted to know the answer. "I'm not sure, but whatever it is it's starting to spread. We need to set up a quarantine. We are looking at something that has a short incubation period. I hope Jesse and Amanda have come up with something.
*****
Amanda stood clothed in her dark blue scrubs peering down into the optical viewer of the pathology microscope, examining samples of blood and tissue. Through the strong magnifying lens she was able to detect abnormalities in the blood and liver of the corpse they had found in Olsen's freezer.
Slapping the pathology report folder shut, Amanda left her lab and headed directly for the ER, a worried expression on her face.
Jesse was not in sight when she arrived at the casualty-ridden emergency rooms. Dr Bentley stopped at the nurse's station and to the nurse behind the desk simply asked "Dr Travis?" The nurse looked down briefly before pointing to examination room 4, just as Jesse came out looking dejected, pulling the latex rubber gloves from his hands with a resounding 'thwack'. "Mr Jose Sanchez didn't make it," he commented when he noticed Amanda looking at him. "I'm sorry Jess," Amanda comforted. "But I've got some more bad news." She pulled the young ER doctor to one side and began to explain her findings. "I ran some tests on the body we found in Olsen's freezer and it appears that he died from massive internal haemorrhaging. He practically bled to death internally." "What caused it?" asked Jesse suddenly caught up in Amanda's findings. "It appears he was suffering from a highly communicable disease called Haemocylanosis." "Let me guess," grimaced Jesse. "You found, the same thing on the razor we found?" "Yes," replied Amanda fearfully. "Which means. Mark, Steve and everyone on board that plane could be infected!"
This story revolves around high drama on an aeroplane. Following the recent events in America, some might not wish to read further. However, the story, disease, cure, airline and events are just the result of my over active imagination. No disrespect in intended in the writing of this story, but please review and above all enjoy :o)
The characters Steve Sloan, Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley and Tanis Archer are the property of VIACOM and CBS. I have only borrowed them and promise to put them back when I am done.
Dr Mark Sloan stood at the ER nurses station writing up the notes to his last patient, as his son, Steve got out of the elevator. "C'mon Dad. The plane leaves in a couple of hours!" "Just a second.There!" exclaimed the white haired physician as he filed his report and finished it off with a flamboyant signature that practically made the pen take off from the paper. "That was my last patient for the next two weeks," he continued cheerily. Just a both father and son were about to leave in the elevator, a call from behind made them stop in their tracks. "Hey, Mark, Steve." It was Drs Jesse Travis and Amanda Bentley hurrying along the corridor attempting to attract the attention of their friends. "Thought you were going to leave without saying goodbye?" asked Amanda with a mock look of disappointment on her face. "Sorry guys," apologised Mark and he hugged the female pathologist close. "You take care," he continued. "And Jess, you make sure you look after Amanda." "And 'Bobs'" chipped in Steve. Jesse grinned, his playful face showed all the 'plans' he had in mind for the BBQ restaurant whilst his partners were out of town.
The airport bustled with people. Passengers arrived from far and wide, all eager to see the sights of Los Angeles and the movie stars that resided there. Others waited for their departing flight to be called, so they could leave the city of angels for the myriad of destinations worldwide.
After queuing for nearly half an hour, just to check their luggage in, Mark and Steve made their way to the departure lounge to wait. The pair of them sat at a table and ordered a coffee each as they watched the planes come and go; tugs pulled a barrage of cases and bags, and handlers loaded the cargo into the respective dormant planes.
Suddenly, a familiar face caught Mark's attention. "Well, it looks like we are going to have an influential passenger with us on our journey across the pond," he remarked. "Who is he?" asked Steve as he noted the suited gentleman enter the lounge in front of a stroboscopic flood of camera flashes. "Senator Owen Watson," answered Mark. "He rose through the ranks from party canvasser to Senator in record time. Some say that there was a lot of money that couldn't legitimately be accounted for used in his election campaign." Steve's jaw tightened as he watched the politician make his way across the room and sit in one of the padded chairs on the far side of the room. The topic of conversation changed abruptly, as Mark announced, "I think I forgot to cancel the newspaper!" "It's OK Dad, I took care of it. Now will you relax, you're on vacation!"
******
Aboard the plane, Mark and Steve took their seats. Steve bundled their hand luggage into the locker space above their allotted seats. A mousy stewardess admired the athletic physique of the lieutenant and smiled her appreciation in his direction. Steve witnessed the attention he was receiving and returned the smile as he watched the beautifully elegant cabin attendant retire to the first class section after being summoned by one of the senator's concierge. "Found an admirer already?" chuckled Mark. "And we haven't even got off the ground yet!" Steve tossed his father a stare that told Mark he was most definitely right.
The flight to London was smooth. Mark was reading up on the latest techniques for laser surgery in coronary cases, and Steve consumed himself in an article concerning Dave Wright, and his fitness regime that helped him score the winning goal in last weeks football match at the LA Stadium. Their concentration was abruptly disrupted when one of the cabin attendants staggered, drunken like, along their aisle and collapsed less than six feet from their seats. One woman screamed.
Mark rose from his seat and felt for the man's pulse. "I'm a doctor," he said amid the encroaching crowd. "Is there somewhere quiet we can take him?" "Yes," replied the female steward who had shown an interest in Steve earlier. "We can take him to the upper lounge. It's quiet and not quite as public," she continued looking around at the increasing number of onlookers. "Steve, give me a hand to take him up," Mark instructed. "What's his name?" "Gavin. Gavin Olsen," stammered the young woman. Placing an arm around each of their shoulders, the pair of Sloan's carried the sick man up a level. Mark examined his patient more closely, but was disturbed by what he found. "He has a high temperature, weak pulse, enlarged glands and a rash developing on his upper abdomen. We need to get his temperature down before he starts to fit!" Both Steve and the female steward looked on in disbelief. "Do you have any ice? Mark asked the attendant with some urgency.
******
The announcement system at CGH crackled into life. "Phone call for Dr Travis - line one. Dr Travis - line one," the disembodied voice repeated. Jesse approached the ER nurses station and answered the phone. "Dr Travis, oh hi Mark..WHAT?!"
Jesse waved to Amanda, as she approached along the hallway, to join him at the nurse's station. His face showed distinct signs of apprehension and concern. Amanda looked on puzzled by her colleagues' expression and waited patiently for him to enlighten her.
Finally, Jesse hung up the phone and looked at the female pathologist, not quite sure where to begin. Grabbing her elbow he scanned the reception area before he dragged her off down the corridor and into the nearby doctor's lounge. Amanda protested to his rough treatment of her. At last they were alone.
Amanda sank into a conveniently positioned chair as Jesse told of Mark's suspicions aboard Flight 802. "Mark has arranged for Sergeant Tanis Archer to meet us at Gavin Olsen's apartment. He wants us to check his place out to see if we can find out what we are dealing with." "I'll get my things," replied Amanda as she ditched her flustered thoughts and resumed her professionalism.
Olsen's apartment bore little resemblance to the upmarket way of life he portrayed at work. Tanis had already questioned a few of his work colleagues and checked his personnel file from the airline's head office.
The dismal grey walls were decorated with patches of damp, and mildew was growing in an ever-encroaching pattern in one corner of the sitting room. The bedroom offered little respite from the state of disrepair. At least the walls were lined with wallpaper, even if the odd sheet had removed itself from the layer beneath, exposing the atrocities of an earlier decor and colour coordination that could only have been chosen by a blind man!
Amanda and Jesse looked around the room and then to each other. It was almost a relief, they thought, that both of them would be required to don surgical gloves.
Jesse took the bedroom, whilst Amanda agreed to make a start in the sitting room with detective Archer.
The bed lay, still unmade, in the left corner of the room. Clothes were strewn around the floor, having fallen where Gavin Olsen had dropped them, no doubt. The wardrobe faired little better. Jesse opened one of the cupboard doors only to be bombarded by a mountain of clutter. Photographs, letters, credit card receipts, books and various knick-knacks collected from countries he had visited. "I'd say his housekeeper had taken the past few years off!" joked Jesse. Amanda tossed him a rueful glance as her companion re-entered the sitting room. She rummaged through a pile of papers as Jesse continued on to the kitchen, his stomach rumbling loudly en route. "Hey don't touch anything, we don't know if he was poisoned," called the pathologist knowing full well Jesse would certainly check out the refrigerator.
Tanis headed toward the bathroom. The medicine cabinet offered little other than shaving foam, toothbrush and toothpaste, some aspirin and a half used bottle of cold remedy. Rummaging around in the wastebasket, the keen eyes of the detective spotted a disposable razor, complete with a smear of dried blood. Carefully, she dropped the razor into a clear plastic evidence bag and rejoined the others. "Amanda, do you think there is enough blood there to do an analysis on?" she asked hopefully. "I don't know. The quantity is so small, I could try." After a brief pause, Amanda spoke again. "Err, it looks like our Mr Owen had a bit of a cash flow problem. According to these bank statements, he is haemorrhaging red ink to the tune of about $50,000!" Tanis and Jesse each let out a low whistle. "Here it shows a credit of $10,000, but still it seems to have made no impact upon the balance. There's another.four deposits in this account for figures over $10,000!" "Where? Let me see," asked Tanis moving nearer Amanda.
Suddenly, from the kitchen the stunned voice of Jesse could be heard. "Oh my God!" The serious tone of the young doctor made both women look up from what they were doing. "Y-you guys better come and have a look at this." Jesse stood in front of an open chest freezer. Wafts of chilled air rose from the icy container into the warm Californian air like frozen fingers reaching out and snatching at the body of warmth that was the kitchen. Jesse's face looked pale and shocked. As the two women moved closer they could see for themselves what had Jesse transfixed. It was a man's body. His blue skin taught and hard; eyes wide and open still exhibiting the pain and fear that had consumed him upon his death. The three investigators looked on confused and horrified by their grisly discovery.
*****
Mark mopped Gavin Olsen's brow with a napkin dipped in some ice water. His patient's condition worsening as time progressed. "Excuse me, miss," he called to the cabin attendant. "You can call me Sally." "Thank you Sally," smiled the doctor. "Could you get me some more ice, please?" "Certainly, do you need anything else?" she asked helpfully. "Not at the moment, thank you. I've just got to try and bring your friend's temperature down." Mark looked back at his patient, his concern growing. "Dad," called Steve from the stairwell. "We've got a couple more sick people here." "Mark looked up horrified. Whatever this was it was spreading, and fast. "I'll get that ice," Sally said and she hurried off to the galley. Steve carefully laid the latest patients on the sofas lining the lounge. Mark quickly checked them over, his face told Steve he was right, however much he wished he wasn't. "Do you know what it is?" asked Steve not really sure if he wanted to know the answer. "I'm not sure, but whatever it is it's starting to spread. We need to set up a quarantine. We are looking at something that has a short incubation period. I hope Jesse and Amanda have come up with something.
*****
Amanda stood clothed in her dark blue scrubs peering down into the optical viewer of the pathology microscope, examining samples of blood and tissue. Through the strong magnifying lens she was able to detect abnormalities in the blood and liver of the corpse they had found in Olsen's freezer.
Slapping the pathology report folder shut, Amanda left her lab and headed directly for the ER, a worried expression on her face.
Jesse was not in sight when she arrived at the casualty-ridden emergency rooms. Dr Bentley stopped at the nurse's station and to the nurse behind the desk simply asked "Dr Travis?" The nurse looked down briefly before pointing to examination room 4, just as Jesse came out looking dejected, pulling the latex rubber gloves from his hands with a resounding 'thwack'. "Mr Jose Sanchez didn't make it," he commented when he noticed Amanda looking at him. "I'm sorry Jess," Amanda comforted. "But I've got some more bad news." She pulled the young ER doctor to one side and began to explain her findings. "I ran some tests on the body we found in Olsen's freezer and it appears that he died from massive internal haemorrhaging. He practically bled to death internally." "What caused it?" asked Jesse suddenly caught up in Amanda's findings. "It appears he was suffering from a highly communicable disease called Haemocylanosis." "Let me guess," grimaced Jesse. "You found, the same thing on the razor we found?" "Yes," replied Amanda fearfully. "Which means. Mark, Steve and everyone on board that plane could be infected!"