"MEDICAL INVESTIGATION" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and © by NBC Universal Television and Paramount Network Television Productions in association with Landscape Entertainment. All Rights Reserved. This transcript is posted here without their permission, approval, authorization or endorsement. Any reproduction, duplication, distribution or display of this material in any form or by any means is expressly prohibited. It is absolutely forbidden to use it for commercial gain.
==========================
TRANSCRIPT:
==========================

In a crowded bar, a girl kisses a young man named Dennis.

Girl:  Welcome home.

Dennis:  Yes, ma'am.  God Bless America!

Dennis to Bartender:  Another seven and seven.

Bartender:  Coming up, soldier.

Dennis begins to cough and says to the girl:  Excuse me, darlin'.

He stumbles through the crowd and someone says:  Oh, watch it, man!

Another girl grabs hold of him:  Buy me a drink?...Oh, my god, what's wrong with you?

Dennis:  I don't know.  It's my...it's my chest.

He opens his shirt and staggers over to his friends.

A friend:  Dennis, what's up, man?

Dennis:  Get me out of here.

Friend:  Dude, we all want to get out of here, man, but the Army has our asses, right now.

Dennis stumbles away and grabs someone's beer:  Hey!

He guzzles the beer and then, starts coughing.  He begins to cough up blood.

A friend:  Let's get him out of here.

Other friends:  You got him?   Come on, come on.  Everybody move.  Get out of the way.

They help him out of the bar.

 

Dr. Stephen Connor and his son, Jack, are leaving a movie theater.

Jack:  Wasn't that part when the helicopter crashed into the roller coaster cool?  It was (he makes the sounds of multiple explosions.)

Stephen:  Maybe next time, we'll see a comedy.  What do you say?

Jack:  Yeah, I want to see that new Adam Sandler movie.

Stephen:  Sure...as soon as you turn 18.

Stephen's cell phone beeps.  He looks at it:  Huh.

Jack:  Something wrong, Dad?

Stephen:  No...eleven messages.

Jack:  Are you going to answer them all, now?

Stephen:  Nope, I'm going to wait until we get to the car.  We're going to get some ice cream, right?

Two soldiers approach them.

Soldier #1:  Dr. Stephen Connor, we're from the Walter Reed Medical Center.

Stephen:  How did you guys...

Soldier #2:  Your wife told us where you were.  We've been trying to reach you, sir.

Jack:  Dad, what's wrong?

Stephen:  I don't know.

Soldier #1:  We may have a medical Code Yellow, Doctor.

Stephen:  How sure are you?

Soldier #2:  Sure enough to alert the Pentagon, sir.

Stephen to Jack:  Look, buddy, I have to go to work now.  We'll get ice cream next time, okay?

Jack nods.

Stephen to the soldiers:  All right, let's go.

 

Walter Reed Medical Center - Washington, D.C.

Stephen and Frank Powell are being escorted through the hospital by Lt. Col. Bartek

Bartek:  Pfc. Richard Henderson of the First Calvary, Fourth Brigade, had just finished his rotation guarding munitions stockpiles outside of Fallujah.

Stephen:  When did he arrive stateside?

Bartek:  About five days ago, along with three others in his unit.

Stephen:  What diagnosis are you working from, sir?

Bartek:  Possible exposure to a biological or chemical agent during their recent deployment in Iraq.

Frank:  What was the contaminant?

Bartek:  Backtracking, the Army believes it was an unexploded ordnance the four soldiers came into contact with.

Stephen:  Where's the shell, now, sir?

Bartek:  That's the damn thing.  No one thought the shell was hot until the soldiers became ill.  Reconnaisance in Fallujah is trying to locate it, but I don't have to tell you what a cluster-job that's turning out to be.

Frank:  The four soldiers, did they all have the same exposure to the shell?

Bartek:  No, Pfc. Henderson and Private Van Horn had the most direct contact. 

He indicates an empty room:  This is where they were placed before being put in isolation.

Stephen:  Has the room been secured?

Bartek:  Knowing what a pain in the ass you were flagging the Gulf War Syndrome, what do you think, Captain?

Stephen:  How are the soldiers' conditions, Colonel?

Bartek:  It's easier to explain it, if you see for yourself.

They follow him down the hall.

Frank:  Were any of the soldiers symptomatic before leaving Iraq?

Bartek:  Not according to the transfer papers or reentry exams.

Stephen:  Normally, chemical exposure doesn't have an incubation period.  If they were exposed to a chemical agent, they would have been down in the first 24 hours.

Bartek:  Our fear is we're dealing with a new kind of agent.  Perhaps, a biological weapon with an incubation period.

 

They enter the Intensive Care area and see the four soldiers in their beds.

Stephen:  We're going to run our own tests at the NIH, but I expect full access to all medical records...

Bartek:  You'll have whatever you need.  The Army doesn't want to be on the wrong side of this one.

Frank:  Like they were in the Gulf War Syndrome...sir?

Stephen to Frank:  Call Eva.  Get her up to speed.  I expect a full press lockdown on this one.

Frank walks away.

Stephen to Col. Bartek:  Colonel, why aren't there more reported cases overseas?  We've been there for over a year.  Why now?

Bartek:  Stephen, the truth is, we don't know.  But, if this is the result of some undiscovered biological agent...

Stephen:  Then the war has entered the next phase.

 

Back at NIH

Eva Rossi catches up with Dr. Natalie Durant:  Here's a cheery way to start the day.  The Institutional Review Board is threatening a review of our clinical trial.

Natalie:  Now what?

Eva:  They're concerned that this round of experimental drugs isn't effectively minimizing patient suffering.

Natalie:  Tell the IRB brain trust there's a reason they're called...

Eva:  Experimental drugs.  Yeah, I'm not sure how long that song and dance is going to last.  They mean business.

 

Eva and Natalie pass through a room where several of the clinical trial patients are waiting.  Natalie scans the room.

Eva:  Looking for Barrett Fidler?

Natalie:  I'm just wondering how he's doing.  I haven't heard from him in a while...How did you know I was looking for Barrett?

Eva:  Everybody has their favorites.  Personally, I always look forward to seeing this one reporter from the Post every time we have a national health alert.

Stephen enters the room, clears his throat and indicates that he wants them to join him.

 

The entire team is gathered in a room.

Stephen:  All right, what about the idea that this agent could be transmittable through touch or bodily fluids?

Natalie:  No one at Walter Reed has reported pulmonary problems similar to the soldiers, including staff who had direct contact with them.

Frank:  The bartender said Pfc. Henderson danced with, at least, a dozen women last night.  So, if it is possible, we should have seen a spike by now.

Dr. Miles McCabe:  If it has an incubation period, maybe it's coming.

Eva:  I'll alert ERs in the D.C. area to look for any spike in Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome.

Stephen:  ARDS...all right, Miles, run tests on the soldiers for biological agents found in Iraq.

Miles stands up:  I'll start with the bacterial culture for anthrax.

Stephen:  For everything.  Order antibody tests for anything even thought to be present in the Persian Gulf.

Miles leaves the room.

Eva:  Fortunately, the Pentagon doesn't want this leaking any more than we do.  Not until we know absolutely what we're up against.  They're sending someone to liaison with you - a Gladys Halperin.

Frank:  Just what we need - more government.

Stephen:  All right, find out everything about her.  But, until you know more, I'd just as soon keep every bureaucrat at arm's length.

Frank:  I know the military hasn't told us everything.  Just like last time.

Stephen:  You know, you're probably right.  But, conspiracy theories are going to have to wait for another day.  Let's just investigate the medicine, okay?

He leaves the room and Natalie hurries after him.

Natalie:  Hey, Connor.  I know it's not the first thing on your mind right now, but we have a problem with the Von Recklinghausen trial.

Stephen:  The last thing I read about it...

Natalie:  They were fine.  I know.  But, now, some of the participants are having a reaction to one or more of the drugs - severe rashes and a high creatinine level.

Stephen:  It could be an intercurrent illness or a possible response to the immune system attacking the neurofibromas.

Natalie:  Thanks, I'll look into it.

She walks away as Stephen's cell phone rings.

He answers it:  Connor.

Lisa Connor:  Stephen.

Stephen:  Hey, Lis.

Lisa:  Did you get the separation papers?

Stephen:  Uh...yeah, I got the papers yesterday.

Lisa:  We have to talk about them.

Stephen:  We have to talk to Jack first.

Lisa:  Stephen...

Stephen:  You're the one who asked for this.  If you're going to tear his life apart, he should hear my side of the story.

Lisa:  Well, you had your chance last night.

Stephen:  Well, I had something to do.  Something came up.

Lisa:  I heard.  Just like old times.

Stephen:  You heard?...You know what?  I'm going to tell Jack about the separation in my own way and in my own time.  Did you hear that?  (He hangs up the phone.)

 

Natalie calls Barrett Fidler and gets his answering machine:  This is Barrett.  If I were home, I wouldn't have picked up anyway, so don't blame yourself.  Leave a message.

Natalie:  Barrett.   Hi, it's Dr. Durant, Natalie.  I was expecting to see you this morning.  Actually...um...I need to see you, to make sure you're not having a negative reaction to the treatments.  Anyway, you have my cell, so call me.  Okay?

She hangs up.

 

Stephen questions one of the soldiers at Walter Reed.

Stephen:  Hey, Joe?  I'm Dr. Stephen Connor at the NIH.  How are you feeling?

Joe reaches for the oxygen mask he's wearing.

Stephen:  Here, let me help you with that.  (He removes the mask.)

Joe:  The guys in my unit?

Stephen:  They're being taken good care of.  I understand you were out doing a recon report when the ordnance was found?

Joe:  Yes, sir.

Stephen:  Was it an isolated shell or was it part of a storage site?

Joe:  It's hard to say.  The sandstorm was blowing pretty thick, sir.

Stephen:  Those Shamal winds can get pretty nasty.  Did you get the nosebleeds?

Joe:  Every day.  It sounds like you were there, sir.

Stephen:  Different war, but the same damn sand.  Look, Joe, I was wondering if you were exposed to any fallout from blown munitions or chemical dumps, prior to finding the shell.

Joe:  I'm sure we all were, sir.  We use to say that, that whole war zone was like a big bowl of toxic soup made with some bad-ass ingredients.

Stephen:  What do you remember about the shell?

Joe:  I didn't find it, sir.  Henderson and Muldoon did.  It was kinda unusual because it looked brand new compared to the older scrap ordnance we come across.

Stephen:  Did you try to save the shell?

Joe:  Excuse the informality, sir, but we were a little more concerned with saving our own asses...I'd really like to see the guys now, sir.

Stephen:  As soon as you're stronger.

Joe begins to have more trouble breathing:  I'd really like to make sure that they're okay.

The monitor begins beeping rapidly.

Stephen:  Powell.  Powell!

Frank runs up:  Yeah, what have we got?

Stephen:  He's having a grand mal seizure. 

Stephen to Nurse:  I need an IV of phenobarbital.

Stephen to Frank:  All right, roll him over to the right lateral position.  Go!

They roll Joe over.

Stephen:  Nurse, apply that phenobarbital now!

The nurse administers the medication.

Frank:  Easy, son.  We got ya.

Stephen:  Joe, easy.  Easy now.

Frank to Stephen:  This is a nasty-ass bug.  What the hell are we dealing with?

 

Stephen is in his office looking at photos on his computer, when Frank walks in.

Frank:  Natalie's uncovered two additional ARDS cases.  Two middle-aged women at different hospitals across the city.

Stephen:  Interesting.  Do you know if they had any direct contact with the soldiers?

Frank:  No, not yet.  (He sees Stephen's computer screen.)  What is that, mustard gas?

Stephen:  Yeah.

Frank:  Is it me or is this investigation beginning to smell an awful lot like the inoculation program we went through for the Gulf War?

Stephen:  I knew I should have turned my computer off as soon as you came in the room.

Frank:  Listen, all I'm saying is...

Stephen:  Nothing I haven't heard over and over and over again.

Frank:  The military has a track record.  They forced us to get inoculations before the war...

Stephen:  Frank.

Frank:  Then, as soon as soldiers start getting sick...

Stephen:  Frank!

Frank:  ....the military blames it on fatigue or pre-existing conditions, instead of admitting the shots we took made us even sicker.  It's the Gulf War Syndrome all over again.

Stephen stares at him without responding.

Frank smiles slightly:  What do you have to eat around here?

Stephen:  Licorice.  Bookcase.  Help yourself....So, how do these new ARDS cases affect your Gulf War Syndrome theory?

Frank:  Complicates it, but doesn't dismiss it.  Anyway, I tried to piece together who the soldiers have been in contact with since returning.  It'll take weeks.  Apparently, these guys were very popular.

Eva knocks on the door, then opens it:  Gladys Halperin is here to see you.

Stephen:  What did you find out about her?

Eva:  Still looking.

Stephen:  Okay.

 

Stephen is walking down the hall with Gladys Halperin.

Stephen:  The epidemiology of the disease appears to have echoes of sarin, perhaps smallpox.  It's too early to make a firm diagnosis, but have you found the shell, yet?

Halperin:  Not yet.  There's several hundred Marines searching every munitions dump in Fallujah as we speak.  Can the soldiers provide a more accurate description?

Stephen:  Not right now.  They're fighting for their lives.

They enter Stephen's office.

Stephen:  Please sit.

Halperin:  I'm sure you understand the critical importance of finding the ordnance.

Stephen:  With it, finding a cure for the men would be much easier.

Halperin:  I mean, consequences far beyond these four men.

Stephen:  My realm is medicine, Ms. Halperin.  I leave politics to the politicians.

Halperin:  Can you confirm a WMD exposure without the shell?

Stephen:  I can confirm they were exposed to some type of agent.  But, without the shell, I'd be making an unfounded conclusion.

Stephen computer beeps.

Stephen:  Excuse me.  (He walks over to the computer and sees a message from Eva.  It says:  There is no Gladys Halperin registered as an employee at the Pentagon.

Stephen looks over at Halperin.

Halperin:  Something wrong?

Stephen:  There's always something wrong, isn't there?

Halperin:  Well, perhaps, when the soldiers are well, I can come back.

She stands up.

Stephen:  Who do you work for?

Halperin:  I don't quite know your meaning.

Stephen:  You don't work for the Pentagon.  Is it the Administration?  The CIA?

Halperin:  All I'm asking is, if your conclusion is a wobbler, let it lean towards the truth.

Stephen:  NSA?  Contractors?  The U.N.?

Halperin:  There are forces at play much larger than you know, Dr. Connor.

Stephen's cell phone rings.  He answers it:  Yes?

Natalie on the phone:  I think we've got something.

Stephen to Natalie:  I'm on my way.  (He hangs up the phone.)

Stephen to Halperin:  Get out of my office.

She leaves.

(later)

Natalie:  I just got a call.  A local convalescent home, five residents died of pulmonary complications in the the last 48 hours.

Stephen:  It's likely one or more of the soldiers visited the nursing home.  Miles, see if any of the soldiers are related to the nursing home victims.

Frank:  It's a long shot, but I'll see if there's a connection between the two hospital deaths and the nursing home.  (He leaves the room.)

Miles:  There might be a much simpler answer for these nursing home deaths.

Stephen:  And you're basing your prognosis on what?

Miles:  Nursing homes are incubators for all kinds of diseases.  You throw in a little neglect and the loneliness that comes with...I watched my grandfather die in one of those places.

Stephen:  Okay, despite your personal bias, if there's a connection, find it.

Miles:  Dr. Connor, I'm sorry.  I...

Stephen:  Miles.  Just do it.

Miles:  Yes, sir.  (He leaves the room.)

Natalie reaches out and rubs Stephen's shoulder:  You okay?

Stephen:  I need you to broaden your testing.

Natalie:  To include?

Stephen:  Potential reaction to the Army's ongoing inoculations for smallpox and anthrax.

Natalie:  Really?  Did that Halperin woman get to you?

Stephen:  No.  Powell did.

 

Convalescent Home - Bethesda, Maryland

Miles is being escorted through the home by the Director.

Miles:  I haven't been in one of these places in years.  This looks more like a social club.

Director:  We re-designed our facility three years ago and added a variety of programs.  We have a film club, a reading circle, field trips to outlet malls.  We really are an activity camp.

Miles:  Not bad.

Director:  Not the snake pit you expected?

Miles:  Not yet.  But, the day's still young.  One thing never changes.  They all have that same musty smell.

Director:  Are you always this cheerful?

Miles:  I guess things have changed somewhat.  The residents seem happy enough.

Director:  Hm,  why should you think that people who take care of the elderly actually care about them?

She walks away.

 

Natalie knocks on an apartment door.  When there's no response, she calls out:  Barrett.

Then, knocks again.

Barrett cracks open the door:  What?

Natalie:  Can I come in?

Barrett opens the door further and she enters the apartment.

Natalie, after examining his face:  This cluster of tumors has gotten bigger.  I'd like to run some tests to make sure.

Barrett:  Not another test.

Natalie:  Barrett.

Barrett:  The tumors are getting bigger because I'm not getting the real drug.  In fact, I think I've put on a few pounds taking all those sugar pills.

Natalie:  You know that in a double-blind trial even the doctors don't know who's receiving the experimental treatment or the placebos.

Barrett:  My tumors are getting bigger.  The pain...never lets up.  And it's getting worse.  The clinical trial may be double-blind, but I 'm not.

Natalie:  Come in to NIH this afternoon.  If everything checks out, I'll increase your pain meds.

Barrett:  Patients getting the real drug have new rashes and skin sores.  You find any new ones on me?  I'm quitting the trial.

 

Stephen walks over to Joe's bedside.  Joe's breathing has become more labored.

Joe:  How are my boys, sir?

Stephen:  They're hanging on, but their lungs are filled with fluid.

Joe:  Are they dying?

Stephen:  Not without a fight.

Joe:  That's 'cause they're good soldiers...I have a favor to ask, sir.

Stephen:  Anything you want.

Joe:  The four of us, we made a promise that if something should ever happen, that one of us would make sure that our families weren't told by two faceless reps of the Army.  They'd be told by a friend.

Stephen:  I understand.

Joe:  I know it's a lot to ask, sir.

Stephen:  No.  No, it's not.  But, I'm here to see that no one ever makes good on the promise.  Okay?

Joe:  But, sir...if something does happen to me, I want you to tell the Army Chaplain not to take it personal, but I would like Father Yost from St. Angela's...

Someone yells:  Get a crash cart!

Col. Bartek runs to the bed of one of the other soldiers:  Dr.  Connor.  Over here!

Stephen to Joe:  I'll be right back.

Stephen hurries over to join Dr.  :  What do we have?

Bartek:  He's in cardiac arrest and non-responsive.  He went into a coma.

Stephen:  Damn it.

 

At the Convalescent Home, the Director unlocks the door to a victim's room.

Director:  Okay, this was Marla's room and her home for the past few years.  She was a good Christian woman, 81, had 14 grandchildren, three sons and a daughter.

Miles:  Did Marla leave the facilities often?

Director:  No.  None of them did.  All five were bedridden.

Miles:  So, they never came into contact with one another?

Director:  Never.  In fact, they were in different corners of the home.

Miles:  Did their families or friends ever visit?

Director:  Well, that's the problem...at their age, you find out exactly how much your friends and family really care about you.  No one's come to call in weeks.

Miles:  Any military personnel come to visit?  Young men in their 20's?

Director:  No.  Why would you think...

Miles:  So, no social contact among the victims.  Or contact with their loved ones.

Director:  That's right.  What does that tell you?

Miles:  That whatever killed them might have come from somewhere inside the building.

 

In a meeting room at NIH.

Stephen:  What did you find out about the anthrax and small pox inoculations?

Natalie:  Preliminary test results show no apparent connection between the inoculations and the disease.

Miles:  But, the five deaths at the convalescent home are actually eight.

Stephen:  Explain.

Miles:  In the last two months, a total of twelve residents died at the convalescent home.  I believe three, previously attributed to flu-like symptoms, are actually undiagnosed ARDS.

Stephen:  You believe?

Miles:  I, also, believe the lung tissue samples I requested will prove it.

Natalie:  If this were airborne or transmitted by touch and the soldiers were sick before they left Iraq, then someone on the transport plane should have been infected.

Miles:  It doesn't add up.  We've got two women from different parts of the city sick, with no apparent connection to the five, maybe eight, deaths at the convalescent home.

Stephen:  And four soldiers who showed no signs of being sick overseas.  It's impossible.  There isn't a biological or chemical weapon that strikes so randomly, unless it's...This isn't a medical Code Yellow.  This has nothing to do with Iraq.  The disease we're fighting is right here, in our backyard.

 

Stephen, Natalie and Eva are walking down a hallway.

Natalie:  Stephen, making a decision to stop looking overseas for an answer doesn't make medical sense.

Stephen:  There's no chance this disease was brought on by a biological or chemical weapon.

Natalie:  Without understanding more about the disease pathology or its incubation period, you don't know that.

Stephen to Natalie:  We have to make a choice.  Any more time spent in the wrong direction, we risk losing the lives of the men that we have here and I'm not going to let that happen.

Stephen to Eva:  What do you have on Gladys Halperin?

Eva:  I can't find her name on any government payroll.  We have no way of knowing who she is.

Stephen:  As soon as she calls, you call me, then call the police.

Stephen gets on the elevator.

 

Eva:  So, listen...now the IRB is threatening to shut down the trial because of the ongoing pain issues.

Natalie:  Tell them we've temporarily halted treatment.

Eva:  That might not be enough.

Natalie:  It'll have to be.  Just do your job, Eva.  (She walks away.)

 

At Walter Reed Medical Center

Col. Bartek:  We've already lost two soldiers and it's not looking good for Vasquez.  His heart rate was erratic, exaggerating his edema.  He went into respiratory arrest.

Stephen:  I believe the answer we're looking for isn't medical.  It's personal.  It's about who these people are, what their lives are about.  But, somehow, the answer's right here, it's in front of us.  We just gotta start asking the right people the right questions.

He walks into the Intensive Care area, leaving Dr.  and Frank alone.

Bartek:  So, what's your medical specialty?

Frank:  I'm not a doctor.  I'm a toxicologist.

Bartek:  You fooled me.  From how you and Dr. Connor speak, I take it you served.

Frank:  The USS Blue Ridge, off the coast of Kuwait City, the first time around.

Bartek:  Then, you know what they've been through.

Frank:  Like it was yesterday.  Good and Bad.

Bartek:  Sometimes, it's easy to forget that an institution the size of the military still consists of individuals worthy of our trust and respect.

Frank sighs.

Bartek:  Even if we both don't always think the institution deserves the same.

Frank:  That's something I didn't think we agreed on, sir.

Bartek:  I ask that you not confuse the U.S. military with the enemy.

Frank starts to walk away, but Bartek reaches out and takes hold of his arm.

Bartek:  Who did you lose?

Frank:  Excuse me?

Bartek:  To Gulf War Syndrome.  Who did you lose?

Frank:  My C.O.  My friend.

Bartek:  I'm sorry for your loss.

Frank walks away.

 

Natalie enters an office:  Shirley.  Hi.

Shirley Morris:  Hi.

Natalie:  Has Barrett Fidler called in for an appointment today?

Shirley:  Barrett... (She checks her computer.)  No.  Far as I can see, he's not on the books.  Excuse me.  (She leaves the room.)

Natalie notices Shirley's security pass laying on the desk, picks it up and leaves the office.  She walks down the hall and uses the pass to access a secure area.  But, when access is granted, she changes her mind and walks away without entering the area.

 

Stephen and Frank are standing at Joe's bedside.  Stephen reaches down to inspect Joe's necklace.

Stephen:  A St. Stephen medallion.  That's who my Mom named me after.  He was the first Christian martyr...

Frank:  What is it?

Stephen:  The two women with ARDS.  What hospitals are they being treated at?

Frank:  St. Ignatius and Good Shepherd.  Why?

Stephen:  We may have just found the strangest commonality possible.

 

Natalie is at a computer.  She logs in to the Von Recklinghausen trial results.  After checking the charts, she smiles.

Then, her cell phone rings.

Natalie:  Yeah, Stephen.

Stephen:  I need you to find if the two women at the ERs...

Natalie:  Karen Gaul and Rebecca DiMarco?

Stephen:  Yes.  Find out if they're Catholic and if they regularly attend Mass at St. Angela's.

Natalie:  What's going on?

Stephen:  The commonality we've been looking for.  This disease might be killing Catholics.

 

St. Angela's - Bethesda, Maryland

Stephen enters the church, dips his fingers in the holy water and crosses himself.  As he walks down the aisle, he says:  If the answer's here, please tell me what it is.

He genuflects before the altar, then stands up and sighs heavily.

Stephen:  How could people with nothing in common besides faith become infected?

He visualizes the church full of people.

Stephen:  During Mass, parishioners are asked to offer each other a sign of peace.

His cell phone rings.

Stephen:  Natalie, what have you got?

Natalie:  Rebecca DiMarco's a Catholic.

Stephen:  And she went to Mass at St. Angela's?

Natalie:  Yes.  Karen Gaul attends there, as well.

Stephen:  Good work.

He hangs up the phone.

Stephen:  Okay, the hospitalized women were here, but the elderly weren't.  What am I missing?  What other ways could it have happened?

He continues to visualize the church's parishioners.

Stephen:  Every Mass, hundreds of people place their fingers into the holy water, crossing themselves with potentially dangerous germs and bacteria....The Communion.  The Eucharist passes from the hand of the priest to the parishioners and directly into their mouths.

The priest comes up behind Stephen and taps him on the shoulder, startling him.

Priest:  I'm sorry for making you wait.  Seems like hearing confession takes longer every year.

Stephen:  I'm afraid that's a sign of the times, Father.

Priest:  In your message, you said you had some pictures you wanted me to look at.

Stephen:  Oh, yeah.  Thank you.  (He pulls out photos of the soldiers.)   Father, I was wondering if you recognize any of these men.

Priest:  Yes, Joe Vasquez, I know, and the others - they were at Saturday's Mass.

Stephen shows him photos of the elderly victims:  And these five here.  I'm just trying to find anything that connects them to the soldiers.

Priest:  No, I'm sorry.  I don't know them.  I have to excuse myself.  But, before I go, is there anything I can do for you?

Stephen:  No.  No, thank you, Father.

The priest starts to walk away.

Stephen:  Um, actually...if you keep my wife and my son in your prayers, I'd appreciate that.

The priest leaves.

Stephen:  The answer's got to be here somewhere.

He pulls out his cell phone.  Natalie answers:  Durant.

Stephen:  Natalie, get everyone down here.  We're testing everything.

 

Everyone tests everything.

Stephen:  All right, the priest isn't infected and neither is the church.  So, let's focus on something we actually know.

Frank:  Joe's on a ventilator delivering 100% oxygen, but his pulse ox keeps dropping.

Stephen:  What about the two women, Gaul and DiMarco?

Natalie:  Their disease is following the same pattern as the soldiers.

Stephen:  We, also, know that the soldiers and the two women appear to have been infected at the church.

Miles:  We know the residents from the convalescent home, who were shut-ins, got sick from the same illness, but had no relationship with the soldiers.

Frank:  Those soldiers and the two women, Gaul and DiMarco, have all been inside the church.

Stephen:  Yeah, but the five elderly residents haven't been.  They don't fit the pattern.  They're the outlyers...Wait a second.  The missing piece isn't at the church.  It's at the convalescent home.

 

Natalie enters the pharmacy at NIH.

Natalie:  When did Barrett Fidler last renew his meds for the Von Recklinghausen trial?

Pharmacist:  Uh, Fidler...(He checks the computer.)  Barrett Fidler, he hasn't requested them for the past three weeks.

Natalie:  You're sure?

Pharmacist:  Yeah.

Natalie:  Thanks.

As she leaves the pharmacy, she pulls out her cell phone and dials a number.  Eva sees her and hurries over.

Eva:  Why would you do it with the IRB breathing down our necks?

Natalie:  Do what?

Eva:  Shirley Morris' security card mysteriously went missing for about an hour...just long enough to be used to access a computer center.

Natalie:  Yeah...and?

Eva:  The only computer center with a database for every clinical trial...Did you tell Barrett Fidler which drug he was prescribed?

Natalie:  Was there any unauthorized access to the database?

Eva:  No.

Natalie:  No.  Then don't worry about it.  And I resent the accusation.

Eva:  And I resent you implying that I don't do my job.  If I didn't, the clinical trial your friend is involved in would have been scrapped about an hour ago.

Natalie:  There wasn't a breach.  And I respect the job you do, Eva, and how well you do it. (She walks away.)

 

Stephen, Frank and Miles enter the deserted front room of the Convalescent Home.

Miles:  Where is everybody?

Director:  The first time you were here, the residents were scared.  Now, they're terrified.

Frank:  So, they're all hiding inside their rooms?

Director:  As much as possible.

Stephen:  Have there been any new signs of residents becoming ill?

Director:  No.

Frank:  What about other places I can check where the residents congregate?

Miles:  Places the disease would have greater opportunity to spread to others.

 

The Director gives them a tour of the place:  Well, you've seen just about everything.

Stephen:  What about the chapel?

Director:  We don't have one.

Stephen:  Really?  Why's that?

Director:  We have people of all faiths here.  Those who choose to, go to their own personal places of worship.

Frank:  And those who can't go out, especially Catholics?

Stephen:  Has a lectern visited the home recently?

Stephen looks through a book listing all visitors to the home.

Director:  Do you know who you're looking for?

Stephen:  Not by name.  I'm looking for the same person who comes at the same time, Sunday after Sunday, week after week...Wait a second.  (He points to a name in the book.)  Do you know this guy?  Mr. Robert McCann?

 

 

As they leave the Convalescent Home.

Stephen:  Priests have civilians called lecterns.  They'd hand the Eurcharist in one line while the priests would do the same in another.  Lecterns also had another job, to go outside the church to give communion to those who couldn't attend Mass.

Miles:  To the sick and the elderly.

Frank:  So, if they couldn't come to God...

Stephen:  ...God would come to them.

 

They arrive at Robert McCann's home and find several newspapers laying in the yard.

Frank:  Looks like he hasn't been here in a while.

Stephen knocks on the door which swings open.  As they enter the house, he calls out:  Mr. McCann?...Mr. McCann?...Mr. McCann?  Miles, check the back of the house. 

Stephen checks the answering machine:  Twelve messages.  If he's missing, you'd think someone would have noticed.

Miles comes back into the room:  The bed's made, but he's not here.

Frank picks up some pills sitting on the kitchen counter;  Metropolol succinate.

Miles:  Beta blockers.  Looks like our guy has a bad heart.

Stephen opens the garage door:  Not anymore.  Oh!  (Reacting to the smell.)   Looks like he's been dead for a couple of days.  What do you think, Frank?

Frank:  I think I'll walk around him.

Stephen kneels down to examine the body:  Frank's always had a bit of a weak stomach.

Miles:  I thought you were a Navy man.

Frank:  I'll be just fine.

Miles kneels down beside Stephen:  This could be our patient zero.

Stephen:  Yeah.  We got to find the source of the disease and identify it, first.

Frank:  I may have something.

Stephen and Miles join him:  What do you got?

Frank:  Mouse droppings.

Stephen looks at them:  Oooh, I'm betting those came from a deer mouse.

Miles:  Hantavirus?

Stephen:  Yeah.  Let's break out the masks and gloves.  Hey!  Walk lightly.  Don't kick up any dust.  Sweeping up the mouse droppings, this guy could have inhaled millions of particles of infected mouse urine.

Frank:  Poor guy just wanted to sweep out his garage, now he's dead.

Stephen:  Along with at least five others.

Miles:  Symptoms fit.  A fibrile disease, hemoconcentration, pulmonary edema.

Stephen looks around the garage and sees a chair with a hole in it:  What's this?

Frank:  Looks like it's been chewed into submission.

Stephen:  I'm going to have to dissect whatever comes out of that hole.

Frank to Stephen:  What are you looking at me for?  I mean, I'll lift and shake it, but catching whatever the hell comes running out of that thing is up to you.

Frank to Miles:  Or you.

 

Back at NIH, Stephen dissects the mouse as Miles examines Mr. McCann's jacket.

Miles:  What exactly are we looking for on this jacket?

Stephen:  Dried, infected mouse urine from the Sin Nombre virus.

Miles:  Great.

Stephen:  You know, in 1993, an ancient strain of Hantavirus killed two dozen people in the rural Southwest, all from inhaling aerosolized deer mouse waste.

Miles:  Even better.

Stephen:  And did you know Hanta is also known as the "Four Corners Virus" because it was first identified by scientists on an Indian reservation in New Mexico.  Navajos.

Miles:  As interesting as that may be, I really need to start concentrating here.

Stephen:  It's a Bio-Safety Level 4 pathogen found in our own backyards.

Miles:  Or, in this case, a garage filled with mouse urine...This jacket is saturated.  I hate mice.

Stephen:  You know, the deer mouse isn't the only one that can kill you.  The rat mouse causes the Bayou Hantavirus and the cotton rat carries the Black Creek Canal Hanta.

Miles:  Yeah, well, for the record, I hate rats, too.

Stephen chuckles.

 

At Walter Reed Medical Center, Stephen and Frank meet with Lt. Col Bartek.

Stephen:  After returning from overseas, your boys went to church to pray for the men they left behind.  They received communion from a lectern who was already sick.

Frank:  He passed microscopic particles of the virus from his jacket to his hands to their mouths.

Stephen:  As a precaution, we also notified the other parishes where Mr. McCann may have volunteered.

Frank:  Vasquez has a hell of a battle in front of him.

Stephen:  Yeah.

 

Natalie is visiting Barrett Fidler in his apartment.

Natalie:  You know, I can't stop you from quitting the trial. It's an option you've always had.

Barrett:  This isn't about the trial any more.  I thought that's why you were here.

Natalie:  I'm here because I'm your friend and I want to help you.

Barrett:  You want to help me?  You want to make my life easier?  Then, help me take it away.

Natalie:  Barrett...don't quit the trial.  You have absolutely no reason to.

Barrett:  I'm not going to the NIH's guinea pig while I slowly waste away.

Natalie:  You're not going to waste away.  Trust me when I tell you this.

Barrett:  What are you saying?

Natalie:  You know I can't break the confidentiality of a double-blind study.  But, what I'm saying is, don't stop taking the drug.  If there's a chance that I can help you, I'm not going to let you give up.

 

At Walter Reed, all the beds in the Intensive Care area are now empty, except for Joe Vasquez's.  Stephen walks over and sits down beside Joe's bed:  Survival rate's 25% and I've done everything I can to help you.  Whatever happens next is out of my hands.  It's in someone else's.  Someone who won't let you down.  Trust him.

 

The song "Mad World" by Gary Jules plays as Joe's uniform is folded neatly.  A photo of him and his wife, an envelope containing his personal effects and a folded American flag are placed on top of the uniform.  Stephen, dressed in a military uniform, carries this package to Joe's home.  Joe's wife and son answer the door.       

Children waiting for the day when they feel good,
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
When I feel the way that every child should
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
That dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
But people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world
Mad world, Mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world

Stephen and his son, Jack, come out of a movie theater.

Stephen:  All right, here's the deal.  No more action films for a while, okay?  Next time, we're going to rent one of my favorites, "The Sting".

Jack:  Huh?

Stephen:  You know, Paul Newman, Robert Redford?

Jack:  Who are they?

Stephen:  Who are they?!

Jack:  Can we go to the arcade before we go home?

Stephen:  Yeah, sure.  But, before anything gets in the way, I think there's something we need to talk about.  Sit down.

They sit down and Stephen sighs deeply.

Jack:  I know.  You and Mom are splitting up for good.  I could tell.  It's okay, Dad.  Now, I can be like all my friends.

Stephen, with tears in his eyes, hugs his son.  And the song plays...

Mad world, Mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world