Page 52 of Outbreak Protocol

I turn to Sarah. "Can you—"

"I'll watch Emma," she interrupts. "Go."

Within twenty minutes, we're suited up in full hazmat gear, our transport pulling up to the southern entrance of Planten un Blomen. The once-bustling park stands eerily empty, its carefully manicured gardens and pathways abandoned in the quarantine.

"Coordinates place the sighting near the Japanese Garden," Erik says through his comm system. "Approximately 300 meters northeast."

We move cautiously through the silent park, our suits rustling with each step. Despite the apocalyptic circumstances, the gardens remain vibrant with early spring growth—a strange contrast to the dying city around us.

"Felix," Erik's voice crackles in my earpiece. "What if we find it? How do we capture a potentially infected, almost certainly terrified wild bird?"

"I'm a doctor, not a bird catcher," I admit. "But we brought nets, cages, and sedative darts. Between the two of us, we should manage."

"Between the epidemiologist and the emergency physician," he says with a hint of dark humor. "I'm sure wildlife specialists everywhere are thrilled."

We approach the Japanese Garden, with its ornamental bridge and carefully placed stones. A flash of movement catches my eye—something grey darting between bamboo stands.

"There," I whisper, pointing. "Ten o'clock."

Erik moves slowly, raising his binoculars. "Confirmed. African Grey. Distinctive red tail feathers."

My heart pounds against my ribs. After days of searching, it feels surreal to actually find our target. "How do we approach without spooking it?"

"Carefully," Erik says. "Let's circle around. You approach from the north, I'll come from the south. Keep the net ready."

We separate, moving with exaggerated slowness despite the urgency pulsing through my veins. Every second counts, but startling the bird would reset our search to zero.

Through gaps in the bamboo, I spot the parrot perched on a stone lantern. It appears remarkably healthy—no visible signs of illness despite potentially carrying a virus with a 70% human fatality rate.

"In position," Erik whispers through the comm.

"Ready on three," I respond. "One... two..."

Before I can say "three," a distant helicopter passes overhead. The parrot startles, wings flapping as it prepares to flee.

"Now!" I shout, lunging forward with the net extended.

The bird takes flight, but not before I manage to sweep the net upward, catching it mid-takeoff. Wings flap frantically against the mesh as I struggle to secure the opening.

"Got it!" I call out.

Erik rushes to my side, holding open the specially designed containment carrier. "Quick, before it damages the net!"

I maneuver the trapped bird toward the carrier opening, trying to control its frantic movements without hurting it. The parrot fights viciously, its sharp beak and talons slashing at the net.

"Easy," I murmur uselessly, knowing the bird can't understand. "We're trying to help."

With a final push, the parrot tumbles into the carrier, and Erik securely closes the door. We stare at each other through our face shields, momentary disbelief giving way to elation.

"We did it," I breathe. "We actually found it."

Erik nods, his eyes crinkling with a smile behind his protective gear. "Sarah needs to see this immediately. This could be the breakthrough we need."

I reach for my comm to report our success when a sharp pain lances through my left forearm. Glancing down, I notice something that turns my blood to ice—the sleeve of my hazmat suit has a small tear, and blood wells from a scratch beneath it.

"Erik," I say, my voice unnaturally calm. "We have a problem."

He follows my gaze, and his face transforms from triumph to horror in an instant.