The Jakarta Pandemic Page 3

  “This should be interesting,” he whispered to himself.

  **

  Twenty minutes later, he emerged from the office and glanced at his watch. 10:15. Not bad for a morning’s work. He could make a few more sales calls in Yarmouth before grabbing an early lunch, but he wasn’t feeling particularly motivated in light of the brewing pandemic. He was fairly sure this would be his last day calling on doctors. If the current situation escalated into a full blown pandemic, the last place he’d want to visit would be a medical office. He stowed his sales bag and climbed into the company car. He sat there for a moment, thinking about his next move, when he suddenly grabbed his smartphone. He’d forgotten to check his company voicemail when he got started that morning and would not be surprised to find a few messages from corporate headquarters regarding the crisis in China and its impact on Biosphere. In the wake of recent events, Alex anticipated some very distinct guidance regarding customer interactions.

  He dialed his voicemail account and found a new message.

  Conference call at 11:00. I guess I have time for one more office visit.

  He placed his smartphone on the front passenger seat and started the car.

  Chapter Four

  Friday, November 1, 2013

  Alex sat in the parking lot outside of Yarmouth Internal Medicine, a few blocks away from Yarmouth Family Practice Associates, and pressed the speed dial button with his usual teleconference number. He looked at the clock on the car. 10:59. Just made it. He waited for the prompt and then entered his district conference code. Satisfied that he was connected to the right conference number, he pressed a button on his dashboard, and the call was transferred to his car’s speakers. The car resonated with a painfully uplifting Muzak version of a Pearl Jam song, which he instantly decided was a form of sacrilege.

  I can’t decide if I would rather listen to this for thirty minutes or Ted.

  At 11:03 the dreadful music was interrupted by the voice of Ted Stanton, his district manager.

  “Good morning, team. How is everyone today?”

  Most of the team members talked over each other as they attempted to be the first one to answer Ted’s question.

  Same thing every time. Why do people still try to answer?

  “By now, most of you have probably guessed why we are having a teleconference. Today is an exciting day for Biosphere Pharmaceuticals and an even more exciting day to be selling TerraFlu. The events unfolding in Asia provide an unprecedented opportunity for Biosphere Pharmaceuticals to position itself as a leader within the world healthcare community.”

  Is he reading from a script? I’m going to hang up the phone before I slam my head into the steering wheel.

  “First, I want to thank everyone for their efforts yesterday. The Biosphere Medical Inquiry System was overloaded yesterday with calls asking for more information about TerraFlu’s expected pandemic effectiveness.”

  Is this a surprise?

  “We attribute this spike to your efforts in the field. Getting in front of the doctors, and putting TerraFlu at the forefront of their thoughts.”

  Of course it must have been us. Why would a rapidly spreading pandemic virus cause a spike in interest?

  “On that same note, Biosphere is actively engaged with the World Health Organization and the Centers for Disease Control to test TerraFlu in patients diagnosed with the new flu strain that is spreading throughout Asia.”

  And the U.S.

  “Since neither Tamiflu nor TerraFlu is proven effective against this new virus, Biosphere sees a great opportunity to establish TerraFlu as a first line choice. If negotiations proceed smoothly, TerraFlu could be tested immediately. So if any of your customers ask you about this, you can mention that Biosphere is actively partnered with the WHO and CDC, with the goal of assessing TerraFlu’s efficacy against this flu. Any further inquiries need to be directed to our toll-free medical inquiry line. Any questions about this?”

  Please, no questions.

  “Ted, this is Dave down in Portsmouth.”

  There’s only one Dave on the team.

  “What’s on your mind, Dave?” Ted responded.

  “Can we give them an estimated timeline for when TerraFlu will be tested?”

  “Good question, Dave. Right now Biosphere is still negotiating the start of the tests. If approved, I assume the tests will start immediately.”

  No, no, Ted. That’s just going to confuse him more!

  “So the tests are going to start immediately?” Dave asked.

  “Not exactly, but if they start—”

  “Dave, it’s Alex. What I understood from Ted was that no decision had been reached, but the company is working on getting WHO and CDC approval. When and if they get approval, the testing will probably start pretty quickly. But this could still be days away. Does that sound right, Ted?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Thank you, Alex.”

  Anything to move this torture along.

  “So, the next agenda item addresses samples. Effective immediately, you are to cease all sampling activity and return all samples to your storage lockers. Either today or tomorrow, you will receive a shipment of discount vouchers to distribute to the offices in place of samples.”

  Alex heard several voices at once, all protesting the new policy.

  “Hold on, one at a time. Cheryl, I heard your voice first.”

  “Ted, yesterday was hard enough having to limit samples. Now we can’t give any out at all? The offices are going to eat us alive. I won’t be allowed in the door once they hear about this new policy. They’re going to need a couple thousand more operators for that toll-free line.”

  “All right. Let’s calm down. First, I understand the concerns. This was not an easy decision for the company to make, but Biosphere is actively negotiating a partnership with DHS. Samples are a key component of these negotiations. All of our manufacturing facilities have started to increase the production of TerraFlu, so we can keep the pharmacies stocked and also provide a strategic stockpile of TerraFlu to the government if needed. What you need to tell your customers is that Biosphere is now part of the national pandemic response plan, and that all of the nation’s TerraFlu samples are being reserved for national pandemic efforts.”

  “Is that true, Ted? Are we really part of the plan, or is this still a big maybe? These people aren’t stupid, and they’re already highly suspicious of our industry. What do I say if they directly ask if Biosphere’s strategy is an official part of the national response plan?” Mike Gallagher asked.

  “As far as management is concerned, Biosphere is part of the plan. That’s it. We are part of the plan. If they want more information, they can call the toll-free number.”

  “At what point is Biosphere going to discontinue supplying the pharmacies?” Alex asked.

  “Why would we do that?” Ted replied.

  “Well, if the company is hell-bent on establishing this partnership with DHS and the existing drug stockpile is a major negotiating factor, why wouldn’t Biosphere just give it all over to the government?”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, Alex. How would our customers prescribe TerraFlu? I don’t think the company would want to cut off its main income source. That’s Business 101.” He chuckled.

  This guy is either really stupid, or is just swimming in a tub of the company Kool-Aid.

  “That would normally be the case, but if they could get the government to buy all of the existing stock, and all further production stock, at sky-high government prices, why would they bother sending it to the pharmacies? They could even lower the price, but negotiate TerraFlu as the primary government-provided anti-viral during the pandemic. They could lock in all future government stockpile purchases. Nothing like guaranteed government subsidized income. Shit, if they did that, they wouldn’t even need any of us anymore.”

  Alex could hear everyone muttering on the line. Sorry, Ted.

  “That’s exactly where you’re wrong, Alex, becau
se the next agenda item involves future plans for the field force. The company wouldn’t be planning for your future if there wasn’t one.”

  “Well, they don’t have Uncle Sam’s money yet,” Alex added.

  He could hear some laughter on the line. Ted has got to be about to explode.

  “Look, that’s just a paranoid theory, okay? I don’t want to waste any more time discussing this, and I certainly don’t expect you to waste any time discussing theories like this with your customers. Anyway, back to the agenda. Can we reel it in here for a moment? Everyone okay?”

  The chatter on the line tapered off.

  “All right, so in the event that H16N1 arrives in the United States, Biosphere plans to redeploy the field sales force to areas reporting the highest number of initial cases, most likely large metro areas. Our likely redeployment area will be the Boston area and surrounding major cities. It could be as far away as Hartford, or as close as Portland. The company wants to saturate these areas with sales representatives in order to capture market share from Tamiflu and establish TerraFlu as doctors’ first choice to fight the pandemic. Biosphere will simultaneously launch a massive direct-to-consumer campaign via TV and radio.”

  There was complete silence on the line.

  “Any questions about this strategy?” he asked.

  I really can’t believe this, but I can’t say it’s a surprise.

  “Ted, does this mean that we could be sent away to augment another group, in an initial outbreak area?” Alex asked.

  Not me.

  “Actually, you would not be augmenting another group. You would be fully integrated into that group. But yes, that’s the concept.”

  “For how long?” Cheryl asked.

  “That hasn’t been determined yet. This is preliminary, and we don’t have all of the details yet.”

  “Where would we stay? Would we bring our families?” Amy asked.

  “I wouldn’t bring them closer to infected areas,” Alex interjected.

  “I’m not sure. There’s some talk about reserving blocks of hotel rooms for reassigned representatives, but nothing about families,” Ted said.

  Of course, why would a family concern Biosphere, or Ted.

  “This is just an idea right now, but it has gained a lot of traction, and I wanted to give you all the heads up. It makes sense in more ways than one and will provide us with an incredible opportunity to make a real impact during the pandemic. This strategy could be credited with playing a major role in stopping the spread of the flu in the U.S. We can all reap the rewards of this strategy.”

  He’s pissing the Kool-Aid all over us now.

  “If there are no more questions, I’ll let you get back into the field. First stop today should be your storage lockers. Drop off all of your samples there, and get back to calling on your customers. You should have those vouchers by tomorrow. Good luck.”

  Alex ended the call. Unbelievable.

  He had no intention of joining the Biosphere rapid deployment force and was essentially finished with Biosphere. He stared out at a particularly brilliant orange-red tree on the edge of the Yarmouth Internal Medicine’s parking lot.

  I know exactly what needs to be done.

  He started his car and headed to the nearest turnpike on-ramp.

  Chapter Five

  Friday, November 1, 2013

  Alex pulled into the parking garage at Maine Coast Internal Medicine’s flagship office building. The state-of-the–art, eight-story building housed nearly a hundred medical providers from several of MCIM’s previously scattered office sites. He parked as close to the main entrance as possible and grabbed his computer tablet, forming an insuppressible grin as he strode toward the elevator lobby.

  He arrived on the 5th floor and approached Dr. Wright’s receptionist. A sign above and behind her displayed over a dozen physician names. All of them were internists, and more than half of them specialized in infectious disease. MCIM provided infectious disease specialists to most of the hospitals in southern Maine, and he could only imagine how busy they might be today.

  “Hey, Jodi. How are you doing today?” he asked the receptionist.

  “Not bad, you know? It’s Friday. Got an appointment with Dr. Wright, I see?” she said.

  Alex knew Jodi from one of MCIM’s old sites in Portland. When all of the practices had merged, the receptionists had been scattered to work with different groups in the new building. Jodi was one of very few receptionists at MCIM that he recognized from his first year as a pharmaceutical representative nearly eight years before.

  “Let me ring his office. I know he’s around. I saw him roll in about fifteen minutes ago. Crazy day around here.”

  “I bet.” And I suspect you don’t know the half of it, Jodi.

  She dialed the phone and spoke into her headset.

  “Dr. Wright, Alex Fletcher is here to see you.”

  She listened. “All right, I’ll send him back,” she said and broke the connection. She looked up at Alex. “You can go on back, he’s in his office.”

  “Thanks, Jodi. Take care.”

  Alex turned to the right and walked toward an automatic door, which slid open as he approached. He enjoyed walking back to Dr. Wright’s office, especially since most of Dr. Wright’s colleagues refused to meet with him, or utilize his samples. He caught their glares and was occasionally accosted on one of these sanctioned trips through territory normally forbidden to pharmaceutical representatives.

  In most cases, Alex figured their disdain to be a smokescreen, subconsciously created to draw their own attention away from the fact that their profession’s existence was inexorably and inseparably dependent on the pharmaceutical industry. He knocked on Dr. Wright’s door, which was already open.

  “Come in, Alex, and shut the door behind you, if you would. I have a reputation to uphold around here,” he said.

  “I think that reputation is already in question,” Alex replied, shutting the door.

  Dr. Wright stood up and walked around the desk to shake Alex’s hand. He was tall and thin with dense black hair and thick eyebrows, his dark complexion suggesting a Mediterranean ancestry.

  “Damaged beyond repair. Sorry to be curt, Alex, but I’m jammed with patients this afternoon, and I have to hit Maine Med again later. I only have a minute or two.”

  “No problem, Dr. Wright, I won’t take up much of your time. I just wanted to thank you again for giving me a heads up last night,” he said.

  “Okay…” Dr. Wright said, shuffling some papers on his desk and eyeing Alex suspiciously.

  “Biosphere told us to stop sampling TerraFlu effective immediately. They’re holding all drug stock in reserve for some partnership with DHS. Pretty screwed up, if you ask me.”

  “You’ve got to be joking, Alex. Really? DHS? They couldn’t pick a worse partner. Those samples will never see effective use. Are you telling me I can’t get any more samples? Each one of those samples could save a life. What a waste,” he said, clearly angry.

  “They’re hell-bent on mismanaging this crisis at every level. I think they’re going to stop shipping to the pharmacies, and there’s even serious talk about deploying reps like the National Guard, to promote TerraFlu in hot spots hit hard by the flu. I could get relocated to Hartford to spread the good word.”

  “This is really tragic. I’m sorry things at your company have taken such a sad detour. You’re not going to be part of that deployment nonsense, are you?”

  “No. I have no intention of ever returning that call if it comes. Which brings me to my first and only agenda item.”

  “I didn’t realize that you were a man of agendas,” Dr. Wright said, raising his eyebrows.

  “There’s always an agenda,” Alex said, holding out his computer tablet.

  Dr. Wright took it from him.

  “Since I don’t anticipate working for Biosphere much longer, I don’t see any reason to assist them in making matters worse out there. So, if you will sign my tablet, I will
give you all of my samples.”

  Dr. Wright sat back down in his seat, clearly stunned. “You’re not breaking the law by doing this, are you?”

  “No, not at all. I’m just going to make some people very, very unhappy.”

  “Thank you very much. Seriously, this means a lot to me, and will mean a lot to the other grumpy asses working with me, when the time comes. I still think the drug samples are an invaluable resource,” he said.

  Dr. Wright signed the tablet and handed it back. “Seriously, this is a tremendous help, Alex.”

  “My pleasure. If you can keep this on the down low for a while, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t want Biosphere to figure this out until I’m ready to deal with them. And don’t say anything about the Biosphere strategy to anyone. That could probably get me in more trouble than the samples. Confidentiality agreement stuff.”

  “Not a problem. Actually, I don’t think I’m going to keep the samples here just yet. Too tempting for staff and others. Samples have a tendency to disappear around here, despite their perceived unpopularity. No, I’ll pull my Land Rover around to your car and pile them in there for now. You fit all of it in your car?” he asked, surprised.

  “I put all of the seats down, and it’s jammed full. It may not be as much as you think, but I just got a shipment a week or so ago, so it’s more than I usually have in my storage unit.”

  “Whatever you have, I will gladly take off your hands. Where are you parked?”

  “Second level, pretty close to the elevators.”

  “Beautiful, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Alex picked up the computer tablet and checked Dr. Wright’s signature. He had just signed for Alex’s entire allotment. He decided then not to close out the transaction until he had disabled the wireless card. If he pressed “complete” right now, the transaction would probably set off some kind of alarm at their data collection center. He was sure that any transactions of TerraFlu samples will be flagged for immediate review.