Antibodies 24.

© Copyright BG Taff

Characters.
Verna Spiro Type one Virus
Nana Bev, Interplanetary prospector.
Jamie, Bev’s younger prospecting Partner.
Dennis Potter Freight manager and old friend of Beverly’s.
Jack Godfrey Yard foreman and walking boss.
Charlotte and Lucy - Jamie’s younger dancing & clubbing friends.
Rose and Violet. Cis-girl friends of Jamie.
Dr Williams Virologist
Jennifer Jamie’s girlfriend. (Sleeping partner.)
Shirley Jamie’s niece.
Dafydd Bev’s older brother.
Digger Beverly’s first ship.
Miner Beverly’s second, larger and newbuild ship.

© Copyright BG Taff

Characters.
Verna Spiro Type one Virus
Nana Bev, Interplanetary prospector.
Jamie, Bev’s younger prospecting Partner.
Dennis Potter Freight manager and old friend of Beverly’s.
Jack Godfrey Yard foreman and walking boss.
Charlotte and Lucy - Jamie’s younger dancing & clubbing friends.
Rose and Violet. Cis-girl friends of Jamie.
Dr Williams Virologist
Jennifer Jamie’s girlfriend. (Sleeping partner.)
Shirley Jamie’s niece.
Dafydd Bev’s older brother.
Digger Beverly’s first ship.
Miner Beverly’s second, larger and newbuild ship.

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“You what!” Jamie almost screeched. “Swap yourself for the twins!”

“Yes. It’s just about the only way we can start the ball rolling.”

Jamie turned to the Police Superintendent.

“Did you agree to this?”

“We’ve little choice.” He replied. “We’ve no idea where the twins are being held and the kidnappers obviously see them as viable bargaining chips.”

“They’re right on that bloody count,” Jamie cursed, “but do you see an escape route?”

“I see a more viable escape route. Bev is an adult and capable of proactive endeavour. They’ll always have to be on their guard with her while the twins; well’” He shrugged his shoulder thoughtfully. “In terms of a rescue they would just be so much deadweight.”

I gave Jamie an apologetic shrug as I spread my arms. Somehow we had to get the twins safe before we could get the ball rolling. Jamie frowned but reluctantly conceded the point. With that painful hurdle cleared, we accompanied the superintendent to his operations room and met his small team of abduction specialist negotiators.

“I keep the team small and tight-knit to avoid leaks about any plans or information we have,” he explained as Jamie and I looked slightly askance at the paucity of staff.
The team turned as one when we entered and they made various welcoming remarks to accompany their reassuring smiles. I sensed Jamie physically relax as a sense of progress took us both and she squeezed my hand hopefully. The superintendent also noticed Jamie and my relieved sighs and he explained further.

“We’re not completely stymied yet. We’ve made definite progress concerning the twins’ location. Our hardest evidence has them in central Africa.”

“How the hell were they taken out of this country?” Jamie demanded. “They were supposed to be enjoying some sort of police protection!”

“My job is location and recovery,” he replied; “any fuckups are the fault of the protection squad. I appreciate your righteous anger, but recriminations at this stage won’t help much. My small team are well experienced in these sort of abductions and kidnaps.”

I appreciated his honesty and began to feel I could work with him so I nodded slowly whilst asking what sort of success rate he had enjoyed.

“Not brilliant” he confessed. “Most of the successful recoveries have involved custody battles in different counties. Those success rates vary mostly by long term results, and usually start with court battles. We’ve only had about half dozen terrorist/political abductions and those were much harder. Usually they were snatch operations after failed negotiations. Four were successful, one was partially successful and one; the first one; was a failure. The hostage was shot before negotiations were even attempted.”

Having absorbed this information Jamie and I fell silent then she asked.

“Was your team involved in the failed attempt.”

“Yes,” the superintendent admitted ruefully. “It’s been a steep learning curve. Mistakes were made and we have all learned by them.”

“Were any of the abductions involving babies or just children?”
“No. This is the first one involving infants in arms and terrorists. It’s new ground.”

“Bargaining chips,” I offered and he nodded as he added.

“First we have to locate them and make sure any hostage trading is safe. We don’t want to find ourselves entrapped in their country.”

“Are you in contact with them?” Jamie asked.

“They are communicating via the government and Professor Williams’s clinic in Oxford. We get all information second hand.”

“Filtered by the suits in Whitehall?” I wondered cynically.

He nodded as his expression showed clear dissatisfaction with the set up.

“Jamie and I will need better communication than that, we’ll need to see the babies are safe and sound before we enter into any discussions.”

“That means organising a secure exchange that ensures we get your babies back safely.” Jamie observed.

“Obviously; that’s not the problem. It’s getting me back safely after the exchange. To tell the truth Babes, I’m at a loss to work out why they want me specifically. Your blood is much more proactive and more plentiful. There’s something we’re not getting here.”

“Well, the first step is to organise some sort of exchange, preferably in a safe location.” The superintendent declared.

“Definitely in a safe location.” I emphasised. Certainly not in darkest Africa.”

And that was the first step we made.
ooo000ooo
Under the hot Mediterranean sun our plane touched down in the island of Malta. The blast of hot air hit us like a furnace as the cabin door opened and I squinted at the glaring light.

“Ouch!” I murmured under my breath as I made my way down the steps.

We had negotiated hard to get the exchange done in Malta. The sea made for a secure boundary that deterred any sudden attacks to bypass the exchange and the Maltese government had agreed to be an ‘honest broker’ in return for the full vaccination of the whole island's population. Malta is small and this logistical deal had been easily arranged.
Down on the tarmac we were greeted by some serious faced Maltese officials, somebody who looked like a British consular type and several African people, of whom two were women holding our twins.

After scanning the arrangement, we paused and waited for the Africans to state their demands. In the brief silence it was hard not to ignore the Maltese soldiers as they stood in a circle surrounding us with assault rifles held ready and watching everybody with expressionless eyes. It was impossible to determine whether they had some sort of rescue plan or not.

Cautiously, we simultaneously separated from our respective negotiators and approached a red dividing line marked out on the airport tarmac. The two nurses glared at me as they passed me with my babies in their arms but we did not say anything. I just needed to make sure my babies were safe. After crossing the line I stopped after a dozen yards to look back and make sure my twins were being delivered.

“Keep walking!” One of the Africans called to me so I resumed moving and eventually I arrived into their custody. Immediately a gun was pointed at me as their radio crackled that the babies were transferred. The two women returned back to the African side and I was ordered to get on their plane. I still could not see any potential attempt to rescue me and I did as ordered.

On entering I was told I was not in any danger and that it was just a commercial arrangement to ensure fairer dispensation of any vaccine that derived from my blood.

“And what do you mean by ‘fairer’?” I asked.

“The people of Africa are not receiving their fair share.” Their spokesman claimed.

“And which of you came to that conclusion, or more accurately; how did you reach that conclusion?”

“We can show you our figures.”

“Your figures?” I queried, “and what basis have you used to determine your figures.”

He immediately fell to blustering and accusing me of stealing Africa’s share which I found ludicrous, especially as it was my blood to start with. In front of his gangster associates, I asked him to reveal how much blood I donated every two months and how many vaccines were derived. It transpired that he had little idea. He did however reveal that he and his people had never received any.

“And who do you call ‘your people’?” I pressed.

“My people?,” he asked, “my people are the people of Northeast Congo, the tribes that are isolated by the so-called Democratic union.”

“And how come you are speaking for them?” I asked bluntly.

“Somebody has to speak for them.”

“Who chose you?” I asked then added. “I’ve never heard of any separatist organisation being involved in any elections in central Africa. From my experiences of tribal customs, it’s usually some sort of council of tribal chiefs, usually elders. You don’t look old enough.”

“I may not be old enough, but I’m powerful enough,” he riposted while waving his pistol and tapping the assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

I shook my head and sneered.

“It’s no good waving that stupid gun about or threatening me with it. Bullets don’t stop viruses or bacteria. If you want my blood, you’ll need me alive. There’ll be no blood at all if you kill me. Or are you thinking of only getting enough blood out of me for yourself?”

I let the question hang portentously and caught the brief flash of uncertainty in his eyes as his companions fell ominously silent. They were beginning do their own arithmetic.

My blood was needed for everybody.

“Everybody will get their share.” He declared confidently.

“How?” I asked.

“You know how it’s done!” He charged.

“Correction; I know what is done; I don’t know how it’s done,” I lied and then continued. “It takes a team of virologists and blood specialists with highly specialised laboratory equipment to derive a viable vaccine in usable quantities. Do you have such a team?”

“We can assemble one.”

“I don’t believe you.” I challenged him.

“You just provide the blood; you don’t have to believe me.”

“No; but they do.” I countered, motioning to his followers.

Once again, there was a pregnant silence as his companions exchanged uncomfortable looks. I pressed my suite.

“Listen to me, I know that a single blood transfusion from my elderly body only produces about 200 cc of usable blood. When infused as blood directly into another, that produces about 200 doses of immunity and that only to people with suitable blood groups. However, when the blood has been treated and used to produce vaccine; that produces thousands of doses, but only from a suitable laboratory with proper sterile procedures.

It’s your choice, just you, or your tribe?”

I sensed the mood amongst his henchmen shifting. Having guns over their shoulders gave them a sense of superiority and power but my observation about bullets not stopping diseases had hit a nerve.
Realising this I pushed my observations a little bit further with a little white lie.

“You do realise that bringing me into contact with your gang seriously endangers them don’t you.”

He stared at me while his features greyed.

“What d’you mean?”

“My immunity means I am a very effective carrier of the disease. I could be infecting you and everybody here even as you speak. I can see that you’ve got several thousand in your camp but only enough blood from me for a couple of hundred. Now that you’ve probably brought the disease amongst you, you’ll have to decide who lives and who dies; - your move.”

The silent tension started to develop into mutterings of fear that grew into louder rumbles of discontent as the growing crowd now began to do their own arithmetic. I turned from the leader to the crowd.

“It takes about three weeks for the disease to incubate and your leader probably introduced it amongst you when he kidnapped my two babies. That was two weeks ago so you’ve got about a week to prepare. I there a doctor or even a nurse amongst you?”
A slight disturbance at the back of the mob produced a trio of careworn women and they were brought to the front. I looked at them and asked.

“Doctors?”

One of them nodded and the other two revealed themselves to be nurses. The three had been kidnapped from a clinic two years earlier and forced to treat war wounds mostly.

I didn’t need to say much more. The doctor had quickly caught on to my idea of fomenting fear that would destabilise the gang and create discord.”

When I asked her to confirm my words she nodded silently. She was possibly one of the few people present that was trusted by almost everyone. After all she had treated most of them for wounds or sickness and developed a trust born of medical care.

Her nod was all she had to do and it caused the assembly to erupt into panic. Lots began to leave in some belated misconception that distance would protect them. The rebel leader fired his gun into the air but that served only to intensify the panic. The nervous trickle of dissenters turned into a panicked flood as the gathering literally melted into the surrounding jungle.

Within minutes there remained but a score of his henchmen, the medical trio and me.

“So now what?” I pressed the rebel leader.

ooo000ooo