Page 61 of Outbreak Protocol

"Marie, I need your help." I quickly outline our situation—the treatment, the promising results, Morrison's deadline.

"Erik, you're asking me to intervene in a NATO military operation based on preliminary results from eleven patients?"

"I'm asking you to help prevent a humanitarian catastrophe. The virus can be treated. We just need more time."

She's silent for several seconds. "Let me see what I can do. I know Commissioner Voss from several G7 summits. He might be able to exert some pressure."

"Thank you, Marie."

"Don't thank me yet. And Erik? Be prepared for this not to work. The military doesn't change course easily once committed."

After hanging up, I check on our test patients again. All showing improvement to varying degrees. Two are already off supplemental oxygen entirely. It's working—not miraculously fast, but consistently. If we had just one more week...

I make three more calls over the next hour, each leading to the same brick wall. The military has convinced the political leadership that immediate containment is the only viable option. Science and evidence have been subordinated to fear.

When I return to Felix's room, Dr. Nguyen is adjusting his ventilator settings.

"We've reduced his sedation," she informs me. "He's triggering the ventilator on his own about 70% of the time now."

"Excellent." I study the monitors. "Inflammatory markers?"

"Down another 15%."

Emma watches us from her chair. "Is that good?"

"Very good," I assure her. "Felix is fighting hard."

"When can we take him home?"

The question catches me off-guard. In the midst of everything, I haven't fully processed what the evacuation would mean. Felix certainly wouldn't be stable enough for transport within 24 hours. And as for "home"—Hamburg would be gone.

"We'll have to go somewhere else for a while," I say carefully. "But Felix will come with us."

She nods, accepting this at face value, and returns to her book.

I step into the hallway to check my messages. Nothing from Marie or any of my other contacts. Just eighteen hours remaining until Morrison's deadline.

Sarah approaches with her tablet. "Erik, you need to see this."

The data shows our treated patients' viral loads continuing to decrease, with no signs of the virus developing resistance to the parrot-derived antibodies. Even better, preliminary tests suggest the treatment might provide short-term prophylactic protection if administered before infection.

"This could change everything," Sarah says. "If we can protect healthcare workers and essential personnel, we can maintain infrastructure while treating the infected."

"Morrison won't care unless we can demonstrate widespread containment within—" I check my watch "—seventeen hours and forty-three minutes."

"What if we could?"

I look at her sharply. "What are you suggesting?"

"Not city-wide, obviously. But what if we could create a contained demonstration area? A neighbourhood, perhaps, where we treat everyone and show zero new infections after treatment?"

It's bold, possibly reckless, but potentially our only option. "How much treatment can we produce in the next twelve hours?"

"Enough for perhaps two hundred people."

"Find me a contained area with fewer than two hundred residents. Preferably somewhere already under quarantine with a known infection rate."

Sarah nods. "I'll work with Aleksandr and Colonel Santos to identify options."