Page 7 of Outbreak Protocol
CHAPTER FIVE
ERIK
Aleksandr shoulders our equipment bags while Sarah clutches her portable laboratory kit and Yuki balances her laptop cases.
We present ourselves at the main reception desk, where a harried clerk directs us to the third floor administrative offices after several phone calls and obvious confusion about why European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control epidemiologists would arrive unannounced.
The elevator ride is silent, each of us processing the disconnect between Dr. Müller's urgent communications and the hospital's apparent business-as-usual atmosphere.
If there truly are thirty-plus cases of an unknown infectious disease with a sixty-five percent mortality rate, this level of institutional complacency borders on criminal negligence.
Dr. Wilhelm Hartmann's office occupies a corner suite with expensive furniture and diplomas covering every wall surface.
The man himself rises from behind an oversized mahogany desk—silver-haired, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that probably costs more than most junior doctors earn in a month, and wearing an expression of barely concealed irritation.
"Dr. Lindqvist, I presume. I must say, your arrival here is highly irregular and frankly unnecessary."
No handshake offered, no gesture toward the chairs facing his desk. Aleksandr sets our equipment down with deliberate precision, his military bearing a subtle reminder that we're not easily intimidated by bureaucratic posturing.
"Dr. Hartmann, thank you for meeting with us. We're responding to reports of unusual infectious disease cases that warrant immediate epidemiological investigation."
"Reports that were submitted without proper authorization through official channels. Dr. Müller exceeded his authority by contacting your organization directly, and I assure you that appropriate disciplinary action will be taken."
Sarah shifts beside me, her jaw tightening at the suggestion that reporting a potential outbreak constitutes misconduct. Yuki remains focused on her tablet, likely already calculating transmission models while institutional politics play out around her.
"Dr. Hartmann, when healthcare workers identify patterns suggesting novel infectious diseases, rapid reporting through any available channels serves public health interests. Bureaucratic protocols shouldn't delay outbreak response."
"What you call bureaucratic protocols, Dr. Lindqvist, I call responsible management. This hospital serves over five million people in the greater Hamburg region, and our reputation for excellence cannot be jeopardized by premature alarms about isolated cases of seasonal illness."
Isolated cases. The phrase confirms my growing suspicion that Dr. Hartmann either fundamentally misunderstands the situation or actively suppresses information that threatens his institutional image.
"Perhaps we could review the cases Dr. Müller documented. If they represent routine seasonal illness, our assessment should confirm that quickly and we can adjust our response accordingly."
"Dr. Müller's... enthusiasm for dramatic diagnoses has been noted before. He sees exotic diseases where more experienced physicians recognize common presentations."
Aleksandr clears his throat, a sound that carries unmistakable authority despite its softness. "Dr. Hartmann, the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control doesn't deploy rapid response teams for routine seasonal illness. Perhaps we might examine the evidence before drawing conclusions."
Before Hartmann can respond, a knock interrupts the conversation. A voice calls through the door—"Dr. Hartmann, sorry to interrupt, but Dr. Müller is here with the case files you requested."
"Enter."
The door opens to reveal Dr. Felix Müller, and my first impression confirms everything his documentation suggested about his character and competence.
Medium height with an athletic build, dark hair threaded with premature silver that speaks to stress or intensity beyond his thirty-two years.
Warm hazel eyes that shift between professional composure and barely contained frustration as he takes in the scene—our team standing while Hartmann remains seated behind his desk like a judge pronouncing sentence.
But what strikes me most is the immediate sense of recognition, as if I'm meeting someone whose mind I already know from his meticulously organized case reports and thoughtful epidemiological observations.
His intelligence is evident in how quickly he assesses the room's dynamics, and his dedication shows in the careful way he handles the patient files despite obvious physical exhaustion.
"Dr. Müller, these are the ECDC investigators who responded to your unauthorized communications. Dr. Lindqvist, Dr. Brennan, Dr. Tanaka, and Dr. Petrov."
Felix's eyes meet mine, and there's a moment of mutual evaluation that feels both professional and oddly personal. I extend my hand, noting his firm grip and the slight calluses that suggest hands-on medical work rather than purely administrative duties.
"Dr. Müller, thank you for your comprehensive documentation. Your clinical observations and epidemiological tracking made our preliminary assessment possible."
"Dr. Lindqvist, I truly appreciate your rapid response. The situation has continued evolving since my last communication—we now have fifty-four confirmed cases with thirty-six deaths."
Thirty-six deaths. The mortality rate has actually increased since his initial reports, suggesting either more severe cases presenting or progression in patients initially classified as stable.
Hartmann's expression darkens. "Dr. Müller, I specifically instructed you to discontinue that alarmist case counting. We have patients with various seasonal ailments, not some exotic outbreak requiring international intervention."
Felix turns toward Hartmann, and I watch his professional restraint battle with obvious frustration. When he speaks, his voice remains controlled but carries an edge that suggests this argument has been ongoing for days.
"Dr. Hartmann, these aren't seasonal ailments.
The patients present with hemorrhagic symptoms, neurological complications, and multi-organ failure following a consistent progression pattern.
Frau Schmidt died yesterday evening. Herr Becker remains in intensive care with deteriorating kidney function. Friedrich Heinz—"
"Enough. Your dramatic presentations don't change medical reality, Dr. Müller.
I won't have this hospital's reputation damaged by unfounded panic.
If you don't cease this alarmist behaviour immediately, I'll personally ensure that your medical licence comes under review for creating public health hysteria.
Your career will be over before you even realize what's happening. "
Sarah steps forward, her Irish accent adding sharpness to her words. "Perhaps we could examine the case files and laboratory results rather than debating their significance without data."
Felix nods gratefully at Sarah's intervention and opens the folder he's carrying. "I've prepared detailed clinical summaries including symptom progression timelines, laboratory values, and epidemiological connections between cases. The pattern is consistent across all presentations."
He spreads papers across Hartmann's desk despite the administrator's obvious displeasure, and I move closer to review the documentation.
The first file shows a meticulous record of symptom onset, progression, and outcome for a fifty-four-year-old woman named Claudia Weber—not the cardiac patient from his earlier report, but someone who developed fever and confusion three days after visiting Café Liebermann.
Initial presentation: high fever (39.8°C), severe headache, photophobia, and nausea. Day two: confusion and agitation with petechial rash on extremities. Day three: epistaxis, gingival bleeding, and altered consciousness. Day four: multi-organ failure and death despite supportive care.
The progression is remarkably consistent with viral hemorrhagic fever, but the epidemiological setting makes that diagnosis highly improbable. European VHFs are essentially nonexistent, and travel histories don't support importation from endemic areas.
"Dr. Müller, what laboratory testing has been performed?"
"Standard viral panels came back negative.
Bacterial cultures negative. CSF analysis showed elevated protein and white cell count consistent with viral meningitis, but PCR for common meningitis pathogens was negative.
We've sent samples to the state laboratory, but results aren't expected for several days. "
Yuki looks up from her tablet. "Have you attempted electron microscopy or broader spectrum molecular diagnostics?"
"We don't have those capabilities here. The state laboratory might, but Dr. Hartmann—" Felix glances toward the administrator, then continues carefully, "—felt additional testing wasn't warranted based on current evidence."
Hartmann straightens in his chair. "Expensive specialized testing for what appears to be unfortunate clustering of seasonal illness represents poor resource allocation, especially with budget constraints and the upcoming international trade conference requiring our full attention."
The trade conference. Felix mentioned this yesterday, and now I understand the political pressure underlying Hartmann's resistance.
Hamburg's reputation as a major commercial centre depends on international confidence in its infrastructure, including healthcare systems. Acknowledging a potential infectious disease outbreak during a high-profile economic event would create exactly the kind of publicity nightmare administrators fear most.
Aleksandr sets down his equipment bag with deliberate authority. "Dr. Hartmann, we'll need laboratory space, communication facilities, and access to all relevant patient records. Can you arrange appropriate accommodations?"