Chapter Fifteen
Donald looked out of the window as the plane came in for landing. He was part of a fifteen man security delegation sent to brief members of the AU (African Union) on the rapidly deteriorating situation in South Africa.
His eyes drifted around the plane’s cabin. It was a large Gulfstream, chartered by the South African president Kungawo Lethabo. Evonso virus outbreak has spread across major cities like Johannesburg, Cape Town, Durban, Pretoria and even as far down as Port Elizabeth.
The engineered vaccine had turned out to be viable but people seemed to be getting infected ten times faster than they could cure them. Something else was going on.
Kungawo had been on the phone severally trying to get in touch with Nigerian President Mahmud Abdusalam but had been unsuccessful. The whole system of government seemed to have gone dark. Internet access, communication systems and all that had practically ground to a halt. Word on the vine was, only satellite communication worked now.
All borders surrounding the country had been closed by surrounding nations. But with the porous state of the borders millions were still sneaking through ensuring the virus kept spreading. It was a humanitarian nightmare.
He heard Cotonou gave its border patrol a shoot on sight directive for anyone seen crossing the border.
The plane landed with a screech hurtling across the runway towards a contingent of men in black suits standing beside six black SUVs. The pilot slowly navigated the plane towards them and it came to a complete halt a few feet away.
Two hard faced men approached. They had what looked like UV lights in their hands. Each man was subjected to the UV glare. Their temperature readings were also taken. It wasn’t a foolproof system but it was still the best means of early detection developed so far.
Satisfied they weren’t infected they escorted them to the SUVs. They divided themselves into groups of three, each group hopped into an SUV and they were off.
The men took them through a long route. Donald had been here before, on several occasions in fact. But he recognized none of the roads taken.
“Why are we taking this way?” he asked, his question directed at the driver.
“The major roads are __” He paused, swallowing and taking a deep breath before he could continue.
“___ over run. This is the last airport still operational. If you hadn’t come in today you might not have been able to get in at all.”
Donald’s eyes widened at that.
“So it’s that bad here?”
The man turned, his cold frightened eyes locking with Donald’s own.
“It’s worse!”
“But I don’t get it. I spoke with president Kungawo before takeoff and he said he’d been in contact with your president. According to him they spoke at length; and he specifically mentioned your president telling him the situation here wasn’t in such dire straits.”
“What do you expect him to say? After this briefing we’re hoping we can get you guys back to the airport so you can get out because the way I see it, no one is coming in by flight from this moment; except of course if we can get the spread of this thing under a semblance of control.”
No more words were exchanged. The radio was kept on but they got mostly static. Even the stations they did managed to connect to never stayed longer than a few minutes at a time.
After almost three hours of driving they approached a dome shaped building. It was on the city’s outskirts. They could see the skyline ahead with several tall skyscrapers. But they had an abandoned look about them.
“Anyone there?”
“Yeah __ some.”
“Infected?”
“Mostly __”
There was a faint crack and the earth trembled. Donald and the driver locked gazes again.
“The army is engaging. It’s __” He paused. “__ a nightmare.”
The building had a large gate in front of it which looked electrified. The wall surrounding the compound was nine feet tall with rolls of barbwire strung across the top.
The gates swung open at their approach and hefty soldiers waved them to halt peering into the jeep’s cabins as they examined each man’s face in turn.
“It’s ok Sollasse! They’re clean.” The driver barked impatiently.
The men nodded slowly and backed off allowing them to enter. Donald examined the wide compound surprised at how big it was. It was hundreds of feet across on all ends with the building sitting in the centre. More heavily armed men gathered in front of the building’s entrance, which was a set of twin glass doors. The glass surface was tinted making it impossible to see what was on the other side.
Donald jeep parked in front of it. One of the men stepped forward opening the door for him. He stepped out as did the two others. The car moved forward and the next one slid into its place. When they were all down they walked towards the entrance which slid open at their approach.
The foyer was expensively furnished done in white and gold tones and hues. Directly ahead were twin elevators. They were led to the one on the right.
The doors swung open a few seconds later and they stepped into a long corridor with high walls covered with oak panelling. A large door loomed on their right. It opened into a conference room with twelve men seated around a circular table. They all had frightened looks on their faces.
It took a few seconds for Donald to notice the man standing close to the wall on their right with his finger touching a screen presentation beamed from a projector on the opposite side of the room. His eyes were just as grim as the others in the room.
An extremely weathered and brow beaten old man rose from his position at the head of the table his claw like fingers clutching a large cane.
Donald had never met the man face to face. But shrunken though he was he carried a presence even men half his age couldn’t replicate no matter how hard they tried.
President Miguba had ruled his people with an iron fist for close to thirty years and if the Evonso virus didn’t wipe out the whole continent, Donald was sure he was prepared to rule them for another thirty. If his body held out that long that is.
“Donald Thato! How nice to finally meet you.”
Donald grimaced at his nearly toothless grin surprised at the strength in his voice. He had to be at least eighty six. The grey suit he wore hung like a bedspread on his frail shoulders. If he noticed Donald’s grimace his face gave no indication of it.
“Sit down, sit down __ our virologist up there was just in the process of scaring us silly. We’ve just heard from the Nigerian contingent __” His gnarly finger drifted to a plump pale faced man wearing a white agbada.
“What’s the word from Nigeria?” Donald asked locking gazes with the man.
The man sighed rising to his feet slowly.
“My name is Raphael Adelokun, Minister __” He paused. “__ perhaps I should say former Minister of Health. The word is there is no word. We have no working government. Doctor Kemisola managed to finish the conversion process in the Lagos Centre for Disease Control and Prevention (LCDP). But something went wrong. It wasn’t properly tested, it appears the virus has mutated.”
Donald swallowed very afraid to ask, but he couldn’t stop the question from leaving his lips.
“When you say mutated what does that mean exactly?”
“It means __” The virologist at the screen interjected. “___ its airborne which explains why people have been getting infected faster than we can cure them. The only uninfected people at the moment are the ones with natural immunity.”
“So that means everyone in this room is immune?”
“Not exactly sir __ it could simply mean the airborne version of the Evonso virus hasn’t gotten here yet. But with the winds movements and speeds we could have all of Africa blanketed with infection in the next six months.”
“But thought you said you had a working vaccine? I read the report. The vaccine doesn’t only cure the infected it inoculates the uninfected against the
virus.”
“That was before the mutation sir. Now that it’s airborne those rules might not necessarily apply.”
“What are you saying?”
“Am saying the vaccine might not work effectively with this new strain __ those we felt were inoculated could very well find themselves prone to infection again.”
A cold silence greeted the virologist words.
“So what do we do?” Donald asked quietly. A thrill of irritation surged through him when he heard how his voice was shaking.
The virologist sighed. “At the moment sir __ I am not sure there is much we can do.”
No one said anything more. The terrified gazes told their own stories.