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TRANSCRIPT:
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The song, 'Island in the Sun', by Weezer plays as people frolic in the sun of a tropical paradise.  A woman, Jenny Small, watches everyone with a worried expression on her face.  She walks over to where two young women are talking.

Woman #1:  Whoever thought vacationing with the people you see all week was a good idea should be shot.

Woman #2:  Oh, my god.  Have you seen Jerry Landau in a speedo?

Jenny approaches them:  Um...you ladies okay?

Woman #2:  Just another day in paradise.

Jenny:  Where's your friend?  Kim, is it?

Woman #1:  Actually, she's feeling kinda sick.

Woman #2:  We thought it was too many tequila shots, but the resort doctor said there's a bug going around.

Jenny:  Well, don't worry.  I'm sure it's nothing.  I'll check on her for you.

 

She hurries away, looking worried, and enters the nightclub which has been turned into makeshift clinic.  Several sick people are lying in beds.

She asks the doctor tending to them:  What can I do?

Doctor:  It's getting worse.  Get help now!

 

The NIH team is on an airplane.

Frank Powell returns from the cockpit:  We'll land in Miami in 40.  From there, it's an hour by chopper to the island.

Dr. Stephen Connor:  Run down what we have, Dr. McCabe.

Dr. Miles McCabe:  For whose benefit?

Frank:  Yours.

Miles:  Right.  Okay.  We have half a dozen guests at the Costa Bimini resort, a private island off the coast of Grand Bahama, down with a variety of symptoms.

Stephen:  What's the chief complaint?

Miles:  Pleuritic chest pains and night sweats.

Stephen:  And what does that tell you?

Miles:  Could be the flu.  Or it could be the onset of hemorraghic fever.  Have any of the guests been in Africa, lately?

Stephen:  You're over-thinking this.  Forget Africa.  We're in the Western Hemisphere.

Dr. Natalie Durant:  There's possible cavitation in the mid and lower lung fields.

Miles:  Tuberculosis?

Frank:  That's what the local doctor thinks.

Stephen:  Then again, he probably went to med school in Grenada.

 

They disembark from the plane in Miami and begin unloading equipment.

Stephen:  I need H & E stain, oxygen-activated charcoal, IV poles and saline.

Miles:  Don't they have any supplies?  What do they do if somebody gets sick?

Frank:  You ever been sick on vacation, Miles?

Miles:  No.

Frank:  Don't be.

Eva Rossi:  No high-end resort is going to set aside space for a clinic when they can book a room for $600 a night.

Natalie:  I just got off the phone with Bethesda.  Remember that mystery pneumonia in Dade County?

Stephen:  Yeah, the case we passed on.

Natalie:  The first patient died.  Now, there are three more cases.

Stephen:  If it turns out to be TB on the island, we'll treat it and backtrack.

Natalie:  One of the patients, Raymond Diaz, is the local director of Health and Human Services here in Miami.

Frank:  Never dis the man who signs your checks.

Stephen:  McCabe, you're going to stay here and monitor the pneumonia cases.

Miles:  With all due respect, Dr. Connor, I'm ready for more than palpating and intubating.  And...I've never been to the Caribbean.

Natalie:  I'll stay.  Dr. McCabe is better suited for the kind of triage you'll need.  You and I can do everything we need by cell phone and computer uplink.

Stephen:  Fine.  Eva, you stay here with Natalie and help with the pneumonia cases.  Powell, McCabe, come with me.

Miles and Natalie smile at each other.

 

Stephen, Miles and Frank arrive on the island by chopper.  They are greeted by Jenny Small and Gary Riesen, who escort them across the grounds.

Stephen:  Dr. Stephen Connor, NIH.

Jenny:  Jenny Small.  I'm with the resort.  This is Gary Riesen.  His company's here on retreat.

Gary:  Thank God you're here.  My employees are dropping by the hour.  My VP went down this morning.

Stephen:  How did it start?

Gary:  Chest pains.  I thought he was having a heart attack.

Stephen:  Did you all come here directly from the mainland?

Gary:  No, we first spent two days in St. Thomas, but no one got sick until we got here.

Jenny:  We have an excellent record when it comes to health and safety, Doctor.  Nothing like this has ever happened before.

Frank:  Why didn't you transport the patients to the nearest hospital?

Gary:  We tried.  But, the island hospital is nothing more than a glorified clinic.  They just sent one of their doctors.

Jenny:  There have been some isolated cases of tuberculosis on the island.  Now, they think we've got a situation and we're going to spread it.

Frank:  When 3% of your poplulation is ill, it's no longer a situation.  It's an outbreak.

Jenny:  Oh, God, can we please not label this?  I really don't want to scare the guests.

Stephen:  This is no longer a public relations matter, Ms. Small.  It's about public health and you have a little problem on your hands.

They enter the room where the patients are being cared for.  It's full of sick people in beds.

Miles:  Make that a big one.

Stephen:  We were told you were stabilized at six patients.

Jenny:  That was yesterday.

Stephen:  Yeah, whatever's infecting them is spreading fast.  Look, if we're going to treat this, we need full disclosure from here on in.

Jenny:  Okay.  I'm sorry.  What can I do?

Stephen:  I need a list of all the guests - who's sick, who's not, what rooms they're in, what they've been eating and drinking.  I need a record of every illness documented here in the last two years, as well as every suspected case of TB on the island.

Jenny:  My God, that's going to take time.

Stephen:  You strike me as competent.

 

Outside the nightclub.

Stephen:  So, we have over a dozen guests with a systemic debilitating illness.

Miles:  Shouldn't we be taking precautions if we think it's TB, like masks or...?

Stephen:  Why do you think I asked you about your BCG shots?  We all received TB vaccinations back in Washington.

Frank:  I'll start a timeline and database for all the patients.

Stephen:  Document their every move from the moment they got here until now.  See if there's been any change in the weather patterns or recent infestation.  See if the place has been renovated or painted.

Miles:  There are a number of toxins that can cause acute respiratory distress that looks like TB.  Ammonia, smoke, hydrocarbons...

Frank:  There's, also, a chance that someone on the retreat was exposed earlier and brought the illness with them.

Stephen:  No.  I checked with the company's home office in Orlando.  No one back there has any of the same symptoms.  So, let's just assume for now that the source is here.  Remember, there's enough fax machines and cell phones to create a panic.  Let's keep this think quiet, okay?

Miles:  Okay.

Frank:  Got it.

 

Back in Miami, Natalie is examining Raymond Diaz.

Natalie:  Have you traveled outside of the country recently, Mr. Diaz?

Diaz: This isn't ordinary pneumonia, is it?  The doctors said it's negative for bacteria.

Natalie:  I'm going to have Ms. Rossi take a detailed history.  Places you've been, things you've eaten, animals you've been in contact with.

Diaz:  I gave the doctors everything.

Natalie:  You, more than anyone, know what we do, Mr. Diaz.  Trust us to take care of you.

Diaz:  It's a cruel way to find out if you people are as good as I've been told.

 

On the island.

Stephen:  Doctor, this woman has severe multiforme.  What did you give her?

Doctor:  A shot of antihistamine, but it didn't help.

Stephen:  It didn't help because she's not suffering from an allergy.

Doctor:  I'm only one person.  That's why my hospital called you.

Stephen:  Look, given the presenting symptoms, antihistamine was the right call, but now it's changing.  It's spreading, isn't it?

Doctor:  Significantly.  Nosebleeds, headaches and enlargement of lymph nodes.

Stephen:  McCabe, visiting hours are over.  Until we know what this is, no one healthy gets in, all right?

Miles:  Yes, sir.

Stephen:  Get blood, urine, mantoux scratch and full history.

Miles:  Wait, you want me to...

Stephen:  Yeah.  Treat your patients, Miles.

 

A young woman, Anne Harring, sitting beside her sick husband, Dan, watches Stephen and Frank leave the room.

Anne:  I'll be right back, sweetie.

Dan, weakly says:  Honey...

Anne hurries to catch up with Stephen and Frank:   Excuse me...Excuse me.  My husband is lying in there and nobody's telling me what's wrong with him.  Can you please help him?

Stephen:  As soon as we know what we're dealing with, we will.

He and Frank walk away.

Frank:  All right, I'll start testing the food and water, then move on to the victims' rooms from there.

Stephen:  Get a chronology from the doctor.  See if we can figure out who came down with this first.

 

Back in Miami, Natalie goes into the waiting room to speak with Mr. Diaz's family.

Natalie:  We confirmed your doctor's diagnosis of endocarditis.  It's the swelling...

Mr. Diaz's daughter, Anel:  ...of the valves around the heart.

Natalie:  Yeah.

Anel:  I learned a lot from my Dad.  So, you can treat it?

Natalie:  The enocarditis is only a complication of the underlying condition.

Anel:  And what's that?

Natalie:  We don't know, yet.

 

On the island, Miles is examining a young woman named Kim.

Miles:  Were you one of the first to get sick?

Kim shakes her head "no":  How are my friends?

Miles:  Oh, they're fine.  They said they're waiting to have another tequila shot with you.

Kim laughs weakly.

Miles:  Stick out your tongue for me.  (He swabs the inside of her mouth.)  Okay, Kim.  You're gonna be fine.

Miles stands up and addresses all the patients:  We're going to have you all back in a Miami hospital in just a few hours.

 

The camera pulls back until we see the scene on a security monitor.  Stephen and Frank are in the Security Room looking at computer diagrams of the resort.

Frank, indicating a diagram:  All right, this is East Pavilion, West Pavilion.  There's a small cluster in this structure right here, but it stops on the third floor.  That can indicate a source, but there are cases sprinkled all over the other buildings.  There's no pattern.

Stephen:  If it were spreading person-to-person, we'd see a more consistent plume.

Frank:  So far, there's no link between food, drink, alcohol, nothing.

Stephen, pointing to the screen:  What's this one right here?

Frank:  That's the staff quarters.

Stephen:  And not one of them is sick?

Frank:  Nary a soul.

 

Stephen and Frank are walking through the grounds.

Stephen:  What are the guests doing that the staff isn't?

Frank:  They're voting Republican?

Stephen:  Playing.  Pools, hot tubs.

Frank:  The spa, the gym, the game room.  They probably have different sheets on their beds, too.

Stephen:  Whatever distinguishes the guests from the staff, test it.

Frank:  All right.

 

Frank takes samples from the swimming pool, hot tub, etc. as Jenny Small and the guests watch him.

Stephen and Frank run tests on the samples.

 

Back in Miami, Natalie is running tests when Eva walks in with the patients' charts.

Eva:  Did you know the Diazes were one of the first families to come here when Castro took power in '59?  We had a long talk.

Natalie:  Were you able to talk to the other pneumonia patients?

Eva:  I had to show the chief of staff my special tattoo, but, yes, I was.

Natalie:  And?

Eva:  I can't find anything that linked them.  Nothing that makes sense, anyway.

Natalie:  There's a reason why they have an acute respiratory illness and thousands of others, here, don't.  Go back over everything.  The kinds of household chemicals they use, sports they enjoy, habits they have.

Eva:  Uh, I'm not a doctor or a toxicologist.  I'm the press liaison.

Natalie:  Yeah, but you were an investigative journalist for four years before you became a PR person.  You know how to talk to anyone.

Eva:  Ah, you want me to flex.  Okay.  Fine.

She walks over and picks up the patients' charts.

Natalie:  Just remember.  Unlike what you usually do, this isn't about spinning information to suit our purposes.  It's about sifting through and gathering evidence that objectively leads to a conclusion.

Eva begins checking the charts, as does Natalie.

Eva:  So, how are things going with that hockey player?

Natalie:  Excuse me?

Eva:  That guy, Jeremy...Joe...

Natalie:  Jordan.  It's over...Why do you ask?

Eva:  You don't see that many women who are beautiful and brilliant.  I would think men would be all over you.

Natalie notices something in one of the charts:  Were you able to talk to a Mr. Gerald Borman?

Eva:  No, I've been at the hospital all morning.  Why?

Natalie:  Mrs. Borman died from endocarditis five days after showing symptoms.  Ray Diaz has been sick for four.  Borman's wife may have been the first to contract the disease.

Eva:  I'll go see if I can tie her to any of the other victims.

Natalie:  Now, you're thinking like a epidemiologist.

 

Stephen and Natalie are talking via cell phones.

Stephen:  Twenty-five and counting and I'm still in the dark.

Natalie:  Maybe I can be your guide.

Stephen:  What do you got?

Natalie, looking at her computer screen:  I can only tell so much without the actual samples, but from what I'm seeing, that resort is a four-star Petri dish.  You've got E. coli, enterbactor, non-pathogenic staph, lactobacillus, candida.

Stephen:  Which explains why the symptoms are all over the map.

Natalie:  It's, also, going to make a clinical diagnosis difficult.

Stephen:  The scary thing is the people who are getting sick, they're not old or immuno-suppressed.  They're young healthy adults and if we don't find and stop what they have, they're going to bring this back to the States.  (He suddenly stops talking and lowers his phone.  Then, he turns and hurries in the opposite direction.)

Natalie:  Stephen?  Are you there?...(She hangs up the phone.)

 

Miles:  Quarantine?  Don't you think that's a little drastic?  This thing isn't airborne.

Stephen:  The point is, we know the source is here.  If the patients disperse to the mainland and the infection spreads, we won't know where to look.

Miles:  But, I already told these people they'd be going home.

 

As they approach the makeshift clinic, Anne Harring hurries up to them and addresses Miles:  Doctor, can you please tell my husband the government's making arrangements for us to leave?

Miles:  Look, I'm afraid I can't.  Until we know more, no one's allowed off the island.

Anne:  What?

Stephen:  Because of the unknown nature of this illness, I've issued a quarantine order.  The resort's under lockdown.

They enter the nightclub, leaving the woman locked out.

 

Gary Riesen:  I've chartered a boat from Miami to pick up the patients.  I pulled every string I had to get it.

Stephen:  Tell it to turn around.

Gary:  Why should I?  The people who work for me, the people who I care for, are getting sicker.  I had two more employees go down this last hour.

Stephen:  That's my point, exactly.  As bad as this seems, at least we're in a closed, controllable environment.  If one sick person were to reach the mainland, there's no stopping runaway infection.

Jenny Small:  You have no jurisdiction, Dr. Connor.  Your team is here at the invitation of the local Ministry of Health.  You can't, personally, place the island under quarantine.

Stephen:  You're absolutely right, Ms. Small.  I have no jurisdiction.  But, what I do have is fifteen years of experience, all over the world, seeing first-hand what infectious disease can do, how fast it can spread and how viciously it can kill.  So, if closing this place down for a few days means saving thousands of lives, so be it.

Gary:  I'm trying to understand, Doctor.  But, you yourself said that you didn't know what this is.  Maybe, it's nothing.

Stephen:  Suppose it's not?  Suppose we don't contain it here?  Do you want your company or your company (to Jenny) associated with the legal and financial responsibilities of exposing hundreds of thousands of people?  But, it's your call, Mr. Riesen.

Gary:  Okay.  I'll tell the boat to hold.  For now.

 

Stephen:  McCabe, have you identified those with symptoms?

Miles:  Yes, sir.

Stephen:  We need to separate those most vulnerable.

Miles:  No one in the company's older than 42.

Stephen:  I'm talking about the children.

Miles:  You want me to isolate them?

Stephen:  You know what you need to do.

 

Anne Harring and her daughter are playing on the beach when Miles approaches them.

Miles:  Mrs. Harring.

Anne:  Can I see my husband?

Miles:  Ma'am...I need to put your daughter in a clean environment.

Anne:  What?

Miles:  We need to quarantine your daughter.

Anne:  You want to take her away from me?

Miles:  Only temporarily.  Children can get very ill from the kinds of things we're looking into.

Anne:  No.  She's not sick.  I'm not sick.

Miles:  You could be a carrier.

Anne:  Of what?

Miles:  We don't know, yet.  But, if you start to show symptoms, it'll be too late.  She'll be infected.

Miles to the little girl:  Come on, sweetie.

Anne picks up her daughter:  No.  I've already been separated from my husband.  You can't expect me to give you my little girl.

Miles:  Ma'am...you don't have a choice.  It's for her own good.  I promise she'll be okay...Mrs. Harring, please.

Anne kisses her daughter before handing her to Miles:  It's okay, baby.

 

Eva is questioning Gerald Borman at the marina.

Eva:  How was your wife's health, Mr. Borman?

Borman:  Judy was never sick.  We used to joke about how much energy she had.

Eva:  My mom's like that.  Run, run, run.

Borman:  Concerts, benefits.  She had a list of all the exotic trips we needed to take.

Eva:  Did you two go anywhere recently?

Borman:  I couldn't get away.

Eva:  And what about the rest of her routine?  Did it change at all?

Borman:  Tennis with her girlfriends, work at the museum.  She even read to the school kids in Overtown before she realized how sick she was.

Eva:  She sounds like a great lady.

Borman:  Yeah.  Uh...I brought you her day planner.  I thought it would be helpful...Every night, we'd have a glass of wine, look out at this gorgeous view and remind ourselves just how lucky we were.

 

In her car, Eva looks through Mrs. Borman's day planner and notices an invitation to an exhibit at an art museum.  Rummaging through another patient's personal affects, she finds a matching invitation.

 

Back on the island.

Stephen:  Mr. Harring, I'm Dr. Connor.  The doctor, here, says you're having some pain in your chest.

Dan Harring:  It feels like a weight pushing down on it.

Stephen examines him and says to the island doctor:  He's got reddening of the eyes.  Could be a virus and rales bilaterally.

Dan:  Where's my wife and daughter?

Stephen:  They're in good hands.  Trust me.  Look, I need you to focus here, Dan.  I know you're hurting, but there's something linking you with your sick co-workers.  Something that you all may have done that the others didn't.  Did you do anything ritualistic as a group?  Uh...swim in the reef, go hiking, eat berries, anything, as insignificant as it may seem?

Dan:  No.  I've just been content to sit in the whirlpool all day.

Stephen:  Oh, yeah?  Why's that?

Dan:  The mist, you know?  The sea air - it's replenishing.

 

Stephen and Natalie are talking via cell phone.

Natalie:  Legionnaire's disease?  Are you sure?

Stephen:  This place is loaded with whirlpools and steamrooms, all of them whipping up an aerosolized mist of bacterial soup, night and day.

Natalie:  And not everyone becomes symptomatic.  That explains why you have 25 down and not 125.  Are you sure you're right?

Stephen:  Look, we can't wait for confirmation.  I'll treat them with what I have, but I need broad-spectrum antibiotics - Cipro, erythromycin, loads of it and fast.

Natalie:  Well, get me what you've sampled so far.  I'll turn it around as quickly as possible.

Stephen hangs up the phone.

Frank:  The '76 outbreak was linked to air conditioning, wasn't it?

Stephen:  It was never ruled out.

Frank:  I need access to the ducts.

 

Natalie loads the antibiotics onto a helicopter.

Eva hurries up:  I found something.  They all went to the same art gallery.

Natalie:  Art?

Eva:  The big, chi-chi opening ten days ago.  A group show - progressive Latin-American artists.  The Kazerian Gallery, South Beach.  They were all there.

Natalie:  Did Mr. Borman go?

Eva:  He stayed home to watch Monday Night Football.

Natalie:  An art gallery is a pretty fluid location.  We need to get there before someone moves or discards anything.

She finishes loading the medicine and the helicopter takes off for the island.

Eva:  I've actually heard of this artist, Elli.  During one exhibit, he lay naked under a Plexiglass bridge and did things to himself while people walked in.

Natalie:  I prefer landscapes, myself.

 

Frank crawls through the air conditioning ducts at the resort.

 

He enters a room where Stephen is working:  The first place I looked - a pool of standing water under an evaporator.

Stephen:  Which tells you what?

Frank:  If the water's infected with Legionnaire's, the fan could easily aerosolize it into a mist.

Stephen:  And from there, spread the disease.

Frank:  I only checked a portion of the ducts, but I think we're on the right track.

Stephen:  Shut down central air.

 

Anne Harring is outside the quarantined area, talking to her daughter through the glass doors, when Miles exits the building.

Anne:  Dr. McCabe...Please let me go in and see her.

Miles:  I can't.  I'm sorry.

Anne:  At least, let me give her this blanket.  It's the only thing that keeps her calm....Please?  Have a heart, please?

Miles takes the blanket.

Anne:  Thank you.

 

The helicopter arrives on the island and Stephen and Frank begin unloading the medicine.

Jenny Small hurries over to them:  Dr. Connor, we need you now.

They hurry into the clinic where the island doctor is working on a patient.

Doctor:  Dammit!

Stephen:  What's happened?

Doctor:  Dan Harring started hyperventilating.  I tried to intubate, but...

Stephen takes over and intubates Harring:  Okay, it's in.  BP?

Doctor:  60/20.

Stephen to Miles:  Miles, dopamine.  Five to ten milligrams now.

Stephen to the doctor:  Switch.  Let's go.  Let's go.  Switch.  Bag him fast.

Stephen begins CPR as the doctor takes over bagging Mr. Harring.

Stephen:  Miles, where's the dopamine?

Miles:  I got it.  (He administers the drug.)  Dopamine's in.

Stephen:  What's his pulse?  Miles, what's his pulse?

Miles:  Not much there.

Stephen:  Pulse is fading.  We're losing him.

He continues to perform CPR as the camera revolves around the three of them, trying to save Dan Harring's life.  Finally, Stephen stops, places his hand over the Doctor's and shakes his head.  Anne Harring comes running into the clinic and sees her dead husband.  Frank holds her, as she collapses, screaming and crying.

 

Stephen, on his cell phone:  The disease must have progressed too far.

Natalie:  Legionnaire's didn't kill him, Stephen.  The bacterial culture was negative.

Stephen:  Then, we're back to square one.  We know almost nothing.

Natalie:  Not really.  Now, we know it kills.

(later)

Natalie, on her cell phone:  I ran into some red tape with Dan Harring's body.  The coroner's just starting the autopsy.  I did notice small burns on his fingertips.

Stephen:  That could be something.  What about the samples from the property?

Natalie:  Besides the bacteria and staph I mentioned earlier, there's a pretty high concentration of mold spores.

Stephen:  Inside or out?

Natalie:  Both.  But, that's not unusual, given the kind of plant life there.  I'll know what kind of fungus it is in a few hours.

Stephen:  Make sure the M.E. matches anything he finds with your list.  Whatever killed Dan Harring isn't something that we see every day.

 

Stephen and Frank are questioning Anne Harring in her hotel room.

Anne:  I never thought that Dan would settle down.  He wasn't really the marrying type when we met.  But, when Gracie was born, he really grew up.  He loved being a Dad.

Stephen:  What was his daily routine?  What did he do the moment that he woke up?  Or right before bed?

Anne:  Why are you asking me all these questions?

Stephen:  Because of the progression of your husband's illness, we think that he was the first one to become infected.  It helps us if we can put together a picture of his activities, prior.

Frank:  Was he sick, at all, before you came to the resort?

Anne:  No.  He was actually in the best mood I'd seem him in, in months.  He was working really hard on this IPO.  They all were...He bought me this bracelet in St. Thomas.  It was kind of his way of saying sorry.

Stephen:  Sorry?  Sorry for what?

Anne:  For being distant.  You know, not available.  That kind of thing.

Frank notices the smoke alarm:  Your husband's a smoker, Mrs. Harring?

Anne:  No.

Frank:  Other than the bracelet, did he purchase anything else in St. Thomas?

Anne:  No, I don't think so.

Stephen:  How about yourself?  Did you bring anything over on the boat?

Anne:  Me?  No.

 

Outside her room, Frank:  Smoke alarm was taped over.

Stephen:  Yeah, I saw that, too.  Why would she lie?

Frank:  Maybe she didn't.  Maybe she thinks he quit.

Stephen:  Makes you wonder what else she doesn't know about him.

 

At the Kazerian Gallery.

The gallery owner, Mr. Kazerian:  How much longer will you be, Ma'am?

Eva:  First off, she's a doctor.  Second of all, there's a lot of sick people depending on her for recovery, so she'll take as long as she needs.

Kazerian hands her a piece of paper:  So, um..., here's the name of the caterer we used, plus a list of the food and drinks we ordered for the opening.

Natalie:  We'll, also, need to know who else was here for the week leading up to the event?  Did you have a service clean the place?

Kazerian:  Well, I didn't want people sweating all night, so I had someone fine-tune the central air.

Eva:  We'll need to take a look at that.

Kazerian:  I'm sorry.  I'm not trying to be uncooperative, it's just that this has been a very trying two weeks for me.  First, Elli passes away and now, the NIH thinks I have something in my gallery that's killing people.

Natalie:  Wait.  Who passed away?

Eva:  Elli's the guy I was telling you about.

Kazerian, indicating a nearby painting:  He spent so many years trying to be shown in a mainstream gallery like this and he dies two days after his opening.

Natalie:  How did he die?  Was he sick?

Kazerian:  Elli had been battling HIV for a number of years, but I didn't know he was that sick.

 

Back at the island.

Miles:  I put some more pain killer and a muscle relaxant in your IV.  It should help your throat, Kim.

Kim:  Dr. McCabe?

Miles:  See?  Sounds better already.

Kim:  Can you take a message to my friends?

Miles:  Yeah, of course.

Kim:  Can you tell them that if I die, I want Jules to take my cat?  She's the responsible one.

Miles:  Hey, Kim, you are not going to die.  Dr. Connor is the best.  I know you don't know him, but he's a brilliant man.

A nurse hurries up:  Dr. McCabe?  We need you.

 

One of the children in the quarantined area has come down with the illness.

Stephen:  Either she was already sick or someone compromised the area.

Miles:  I never let anyone in.

Nurse:  What about the lady who gave you the blanket?

Stephen:  Something you want to say, McCabe?

Miles:  The mom was beside herself.  She (he indicates the little girl) couldn't stop crying.  It was the only thing that would help.  I took the blanket from the mom and I gave it to her.  I never let the mom in.

Stephen:  Take the child to the nightclub with the others.  Let the parents know.

Miles:  You know who the little girl is, don't you?  That's Anne Harring's daughter.

Stephen:  Where's the blanket?

 

Stephen:  This leads us right back to Dan Harring's room.

Miles:  So, it actually helped.

Stephen:  Don't act like your mistake was part of some master plan, McCabe.  You let emotion cloud your better judgment and you compromised that environment.  The safer bet was to leave you in Miami.

Miles:  While you've been looking at the big picture, I've been treating 25 patients and triaging over a hundred others.  I'm sorry if I messed up one time.

Stephen:  Hey, we can't afford to mess up, ever.

Miles looks past Stephen and says:  What the hell?

They see the resort's guests hurrying across the grounds with their luggage. 

Stephen hands Miles the blanket as he walks away:  Test it.

Miles:  For what?

 

Stephen hurries to catch up with Jenny Small.

Stephen:  Ms. Small, where are they going?

Jenny:  Home.  Arrangements have already been made.

Stephen:  I told you we haven't contained the situation, yet.  We don't know what's making them sick or where it's coming from.

Jenny:  You're preaching to the wrong person, Dr. Connor.  I didn't arrange anything.  Gary Riesen did.

 

Natalie and Eva check out Elli's apartment.

Natalie:  Elli's cause of death was officially listed as AIDS-related pneumonia.

Eva:  Well, that's what you expected, isn't it?

Natalie:  Well, that's what everyone around him expected, since he'd had a number of bouts with pneumonia.

Eva:  I'm not following.

Natalie:  Because Elli had HIV, no one questioned how he died, but maybe he didn't have AIDS-related pneumonia.

Eva:  You think, maybe, he had whatever's making Diaz and the others sick?

Natalie:  I think he had it first.

Eva:  Oh, by the way, if anyone comes in, we're from Century 21.

They discover a wall covered with Elli's artwork.

Eva:  This guy is definitely in your face.

Natalie makes a dismissive sound.

Eva:  Doesn't do it for you?

Natalie:  I'd rather sit through a hockey game.  My ex was into art.

Eva:  Excuse me?  Ex as in ex-husband?  That kind of ex?

Natalie nods, with a slight smile.

Eva scoffs.

Natalie accidentally knocks the lid off a large container and they both react to the smell.

Natalie:  Oh...

Eva:  Ugh, what is that?

They look inside the container - it's full of maggots.

Eva:  Since when do maggots like paint?

Natalie:  That's not just paint in there.  That's feces.

Eva:  Aagh!

 

Stephen confronts Gary Riesen, head of the company who's vacationing at the resort.

Gary:  I gave you time, Dr. Connor.  But, now one of my employees is dead.  What do you expect me to do, sit around and watch half of my company die?  I did not get to where I am by passively taking orders.

Stephen:  Neither did I.

Gary:  The healthy people are going home.  The sick people are going to the hospital.  As you said, it's my call.

Stephen:  Your arrogrance is impressive.

Gary, as he hurries off:  Right back at ya, Doctor.

 

Frank hurries up to Stephen:  The M.E. in Miami has been trying to reach you.  Autopsy's in on Dan Harring.

Stephen:  And?

Frank:  Acute histoplasmosis.

Stephen:  Acute disseminated histoplasmosis.

Frank:  I already told Miles.  He said it's a fungus, right?

Stephen:  Yeah, from contaminated soil.

Frank:  All right, so what are we looking for, muddy shoes?

Stephen:  No, stomping through the dirt won't do it.  You need proximity to the spores in order for it to get into your lungs.  Has there been any disturbance to the grounds?  Heavy winds?  Construction?  Anything?

Frank:  No, nothing.

Stephen sighs:  What time's that boat get here?

Frank:  Assuming it's going six knots, 40 minutes, max.  If everyone leaves the island before we find the source, we'll lose containment. 

Stephen:  Yeah, and more people will get sick.

 

Frank enters the room where Stephen is looking at the security monitors:  I checked with the Bimini Ministry of Health.  There's no documented cases of histoplasmosis on the island.  How rare is this thing?  We have it in the States?

Stephen:  Yeah, we call it Ohio Valley or Mississippi Valley Disease.  The fungus itself is pretty common in the soil.

Frank:  Where's it come from?

Stephen:  Birds contaminate the soil with their droppings.  We get sick from inhaling the spores.

Frank:  Wait a minute.  (He pulls out his notepad.)  The first day here, a few of the patients went on a bird-watching tour.

Stephen:  Yeah, but not all of them.  Any other exposure to soil?

Frank:  Well, some of the patients went hiking north of the resort, but a bunch more went to the same place and didn't get sick.  Dan Harring never left the grounds.

Stephen:  So, we still have absolutely no explanation of how the soil became aerosolized, no common activity among the guests, no history of histo on the island, the source had to have been brought in.

Frank:  So, you're still thinking Dan Harring was patient zero?

Stephen:  Yeah, but the question is how does a soil-based fungus kill a 37-year-old vice president on vacation?

Frank:  You know, it's ironic that people from the city come here to get close to nature and nature bites them in the ass.

Stephen:  Yeah, nature's funny that way.  Take the biggest animal in the world, the blue whale, pit it against the tiniest microscopic bacterium, the bacterium kills the whale every time.

 

Miles runs a variety of tests on the little girl's blanket.

(later)

 

Stephen:  Contact the Coast Guard off Miami.  Tell them we haven't identified the mode of transmission yet.  See if they can arrange an escort into a quarantine station.

Frank:  I'm on it.

Miles runs up to them:  Connor.  Dr. Connor!

Stephen:  What, McCabe?

Miles:  Something curious about the blanket.  Because the source is from spores, I had a crazy idea and put it under a black light.

Stephen:  Chlorophyll?

Miles:  All over it.

Frank:  First, it was soil.  Now, it's plants?

Miles:  Are there any plants in Dan Harring's room?

 

Natalie and Eva are back at the Kazerian Gallery.

Natalie:  We're going to have to take down Elli's paintings.

Kazerian:  Q Fever?  Are you people making this up?

Natalie:  The scientific name is Coxiella burnetti.  It's a bacteria found mostly in farm animals.  We found an abundance of it in Elli's paint.

Kazerian:  I don't understand.  What's it doing there?

Eva:  Well, you mentioned Elli was out of the mainstream, but you didn't say that he added cow patties and placenta to his work.  I believe it's called shock art, radical art, outer art.  Google "art feces" sometime.  You'll be amazed how many hits you get.

Kazerian:  It started as a movement to ridicule the idea that everything is art.

Eva:  "Movement" being the key word.

Natalie:  So, you knew his work was smeared with excrement?

Kazerian:  No, but I'm not surprised.  Elli was always taking risks.

Eva sighs as she pulls on gloves:  Mr. Kazerian, about the little matter of removing the work...(She indicates that he should leave and he does.)

 

In Dan Harring's room.

Frank:  It's not the plants.  They're all silk.

Stephen:  Dan Harring died of histoplasmosis spores originating from contaminated soil.  HIs illness was systemic which means he received a massive spore load.

Stephen visualizes Dan, lying back on the bed, smoking a cigarette when his wife and daughter enter the room. 

Anne:  I told you I didn't want you smoking around her.

Dan:  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  (He puts out the cigarette.)

 

Frank finds a can of air freshener:  Jasmine and rosemary.  I knew I smelled something earlier.  It's plant-based.  Any chance it could contain live spores?

Stephen:  Doubtful.  Unusual place for a freshener, though.

Frank:  You mean, why isn't it in the bathroom?

Stephen:  Hmm.

Frank:  Well, maybe, he's trying to cover up the cigarette smoke.

Stephen:  Or a certain aroma.

He pulls out his cell phone and calls Natalie.

Natalie answers:  Durant.

Stephen:  Did you get a preliminary tox screen on Dan Harring?

Natalie:  I'll have to check the M.E.'s report.  What are you looking for?

Stephen:  Harring had reddening of the eyes and burns on his fingertips.  Check for THC.

Natalie:  Marijuana?  I'll see what I can find.

 

Stephen hangs up the phone and visualizes Dan smoking a joint when his wife and daugher enter the room and he hides it under the bed.

Anne:  Dan, you told me you didn't smoke that any more.

Dan:  I've been putting together that whole public offering.  I've been under a lot of stress.

Stephen:  When she said he didn't smoke, she was half-right.  He didn't smoke cigarettes, but he did smoke marijuana, especially when he was under the stress of taking a company public.

Frank:  Well, answer me this:  why the whole code of silence thing?  If everyone who's sick lit up, someone would have mentioned it.

Stephen:  Well, pot's illegal and I don't think everyone who was sick, did.  I think Harring partied with some of his colleagues, those on his team maybe, but that was about it.

His phone rings.

Stephen:  Yeah.

Natalie:  Harring's blood tested positive for THC.

Stephen hangs up and tells Frank:  He tested positive.

Frank:  All right, look at this.  (He shows Stephen a diagram on his notepad.)  The people in the next four rooms along this corridor all got sick.

Stephen:  The smoke...no, that cant' be it.  The spores are too small.  The heat in the joint would have burned them up.  So, how did the spores travel?  How did they contaminate the others?

Stephen visualizes Dan rolling the joint on the bed when his wife and daughter enter the room.  He quickly hides the paraphernalia under the bed, but spills some of the marijuana on his daughter's blanket.

Stephen:  The child's blanket could have been contaminated here in the room, which explains how the little girl got sick, but what about the others?  If he stashed the marijuana in the luggage or under the bed, it still doesn't explain how those in the other rooms got infected.

Frank:  Smitty.

Stephen:  What?

Frank:  James Peter Smith.  My third year bunkmate in the Navy.  Nice guy, an okay sailor, but a major pothead.  Anyway...every time the NCO came around, ol' Smitty would hide his stash up in the vent.

Stephen:  The vent.

The camera zooms in on the vent, goes through it, past the bag of marijuana and continues down the corridor to the vent in another room where Kim is sleeping.  She breathes in the spores.

Stephen:  If he stashed the marijuana in the vent, the flow of the air could have blown the spores along the corridor, at least far enough to reach the other victims, especially if the bag wasn't sealed.

Stephen walks over to the vent, opens it and removes Dan's stash.  He and Frank nod at each other.

 

After testing the marijuana, Stephen points to a screen showing the results:  Look at this, histoplasmic capsulatum.

Miles:  The stuff's loaded with it.

Stephen:  It's a nasty little fungus.

Miles:  I can't believe that histoplasmic capsulatum can get from the soil into the leaves like this.

Stephen:  There have been cases of pot contaminated with salmonella, hep A.

Miles:  Yeah, but that's through ingestion.  This had to be inhaled.

Stephen:  Shows you that almost anything's possible when you're dealing with organisms this small.

Miles:  Marijuana.

Stephen:  Don't get too freaked, McCabe.  It's rare.

Miles:  Are you going to tell the guests?

Stephen:  They're your patients.

 

In Miami, Natalie and Eva are in Raymond Diaz's hospital room with his family.

Eva:  You're a lucky man, Mr. Diaz.

Diaz:  I could have died.

Natalie:  The tricky thing about Q Fever is it often cultures negative.

Diaz:  But it is a bacteria.

Natalie:  A Rickettsial bacteria, which requires a specific test, which we only ran after we found the animal parts in Elli's studio and only then could we give you the right antibiotics for that particular infection.

Eva:  Like we said, lucky.

Diaz:  And all from standing close to a painting.

Natalie:  You're going to be okay, Mr. Diaz.  The doctors here will monitor your heart and keep you on a steady dose of IV tetracycline.

Diaz:  Thank goodness I work for the government.

Eva:  Eh, we would've gotten around to you at some point.

Natalie and Eva say their good-byes and leave.

 

At the docks, Stephen, Frank and Miles watch as the guests, sick and healthy, disembark from the boat.

As Kim is wheeled by, she says:  Thank you, Dr. McCabe.

Frank:  These people have a long road ahead.

Stephen:  The sick ones, yeah.  Antifungals, chemo, it'll be months before they're back to normal.

As Anne Harring walks by with her daughter, Miles says:  If ever.

Natalie and Eva join them.

Frank:  Cow feces in art.  Who would've thought.

Miles:  My dad always said modern art was crap.

Eva:  And hello to you, too. 

Stephen:  How are we doing on the histo problem?

Natalie:  The Bimini Ministry of Health is putting out a warning, plus they're re-examining all TB cases, looking for anything that might actually be histoplasmosis.

Stephen:  The marijuana still circulating?

Eva:  With the information Mrs. Harring gave us, the local police were able to find a few dealers and the contaminated field in St. Thomas.  It's being destroyed as we speak.

The others walk ahead, leaving Natalie and Stephen alone.

Natalie:  Nice work.

Stephen:  We live to fight another day.

Natalie:  You're not going to give me one of your "we may have won the battle, but not the war" speeches, are you?

Stephen:  I'm too tired.

Natalie:  Good, because I think we did a damn good job and I don't want to hear it.

She walks away as Stephen watches the remaining patients being unloaded from the boat.