Prologue
Yersinia pestis.
A bacterium found in rodents and their fleas, occurring in many areas of the world, including the United States.
When released into the air, the bacterium can possibly survive for up to one hour, depending on conditions.
Pneumonic plague, Bubonic plague, and Septicemic plague are caused by Yersinia pestis. These forms may occur separately or in combination. Pneumonic plague occurs when Yersinia infects the lungs, spread from person to person through the air. Transmission can happen if someone breathes in the aerosolized bacteria, which could happen in a bioterrorist attack. Only Pneumonic plague can be spread person to person.
With pneumonic plague, the first signs of illness are fever, headache, weakness, and rapidly developing pneumonia with shortness of breath, chest pain, cough, and sometimes bloody or watery sputum. The pneumonia progresses for 2 to 4 days and may cause respiratory failure and shock. Without early treatment, patients may die.
Early treatment of pneumonic plague is essential. To reduce the chance of death, antibiotics must be given within 24 hours of first symptoms. Streptomycin, gentamicin, the tetracyclines, and chloramphenicol are all effective against pneumonic plague.
Antibiotic treatment for 7 days will protect people who have had direct, close contact with infected patients. Wearing a close-fitting surgical mask also protects against infection.
A plague vaccine is not currently available for use in the United States.
PD2 is a genetically altered form of the bacterium, Yersinia pestis, which causes pneumonic plague. This was the bacterium that the Soviets injected into Lee during the episode Bad Timing (Fourth season, episode # 15, airing Feb. 6th, 1987.
Twisted Sister does employ a bit of artistic license here for intrigue/suspense purposes, but I have tried to stay as true to the facts as possible.
The Silent Killer
Chapter One
Friday Evening– July 3rd, 1987 (An apartment in Moscow)
Dressed in biohazard containment suits, three men patiently waited and watched their subject, another man lying on a cot along the far wall. The subject had now slipped into a nearly comatose state, his eyes unseeing while he burned with a raging fever and severe coughing spasms rattled his tortured body. His breathing had become labored and blood had become visible around the corners of his mouth.
For any member of the human species to watch another struggle and do nothing about it should have seemed inhumane. It would have seemed unthinkable to any normal person. But, for this elite group, it had become part and parcel of their job. They had, over the years, become desensitized; it came with their alliance to those who supported them.
One of the three men glanced up at the plain white clock hanging on the far wall, the black hands upon the dial slowly ticking off what would be the final minutes of their latest assignment. He knew that respiratory failure was imminent and it was only a matter of time until their subject passed on to whatever realm awaited on the other side.
The second of the three men walked over to the lab counter and picked up a notebook, observing some of the notations that had been made during this trial run. Everything seemed in order and he knew, without a doubt, that their superiors in charge would be extremely satisfied.
The third of the men shuffled the deck of cards in his hands continually, a nervous habit that he performed over and over when nothing but waiting filled his agenda.
And so, they waited. Each thinking about what they would do with the latest sum of cash that awaited them upon successful completion of the TSK experiment. Each thinking of how they could improve upon their lives when nothing but poverty and misery seemed to fill their beloved Moscow, unless you were a member of the elite. Success had been demanded not only by their superiors, but also by the three men themselves.
And successful it was, as was evidenced by the man upon the cot now fighting to inhale.
Yes, their superiors would be pleased.
Saturday – July 4th, 1987 (Washington DC)
The shrill ring of the telephone finally broke the long and dominating silence that had filled the room. They had been sitting and waiting for what had seemed to be an eternity. Perhaps, this was the news that they had been awaiting.
The skinnier of the two men anxiously snatched the receiver and brought it to his ear.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Yes. You know the rules, begin disposal and disbursement."
With an elated smile upon his face, he replaced the phone and then looked towards the other man in the room.
"Comrade, the rat has died."
The other man merely nodded. Then, he held up his wineglass and stared into the amber colored liquid for quite sometime. When he finally spoke, it was in a heavily accented Russian voice, slow and stilted.
"PD-3-TSK," he drew out slowly. "The silent killer."
The other man responded in a somber voice.
"Perfect. Silent. Deadly."
"Yes, what Doneck began, Miasnikov will bring to completion."
"Yes, and this time, comrade, may a plague come down upon their houses."
They both raised their wineglasses and smiled.