On the News: 7 A.M onwards

..."Sad news to report today, Geoff." The attractive brunette woman says into the camera. "The body of a transient was discovered just inside the city early this morning. The police report that it looked as though he was mauled. Animal Control is in the area, looking for what could have caused it. No sightings of any animals have been reported.

In other news, the flu seems to have spread across the city. The hospital reports an unusual rise in sickness this week. Three more children have been admitted into the hospital, for a total of nineteen admitted this week. Every one is encouraged to get the shot if you haven't already. If you are sick, stay home and get plenty of clear fluids."

"And here's Carol with the weather."
"Thanks, Sara. I'm filling in for Claire today. It looks like clear skies today..."

Donahue limped into the kitchen, flicked the TV on, and swept Mike's beer cans off the counter into the trash.

"Goddamnit Hunter," he muttered to himself as he half-listened to the news while fixing the incredibly complicated meal of cereal and painkillers. His right leg just wasn't moving right since that Goddamn bitch had slugged him in the hips with a dumpster. He squinted at the screen over his spoon, his vision still blurry with the lack of sleep and swimming pain.

"...Oh, fuck." He muttered again, waiting for the other two to get up, or at least for Mike to regain sobriety and Laura to stop playing around on her beloved laptop. He was sure he'd heard an indignant cry of 'Wall hacks!' from her room at 4am last night.

Laura stepped out of the shower, dried off and quickly dressed, before heading into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

"Good morning, sunshine!" She greeted Donahue, noticing he was scowling more than usual. She rooted around for a bite to eat, settling on a bagel. It was a step up from her usual 'I have forgotten to eat while coding, leave me alone'. She followed his gaze to the TV, saw the weather report that was one and blinked. "You're pissed at the clear skies, D?"

"Mornin' all." Mike spoke as he entered the room, stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles to loosen up the stiffness he felt in them.

"Anything interestin' on the news besides the weathergirl?" he asked.

Donahue jabbed his spoon at the TV, as if he might be trying to stake it. "Someone got mauled and they suspect an animal, and there's 19 flu cases now. 19. Fucked up." He spat the words out in a temper. "Has the lab sent the results in? Because if this turns out to be some fang while we're sat here with our thumbs firmly stuffed in our backsides, I'm going to hit the fucking roof."

Apparently, Donahue had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

"Cool it. If you hit the roof, you'll just hurt your legs again. And y'know, your head," Laura gave Donahue an appraising look. "On the other hand, if you're looking to infilitrate the hospital, that'd work. I wouldn't recommend it though. We need our fearless leader in one piece."

She bit into her bagel and walked to the VALKYRIE printer on the counter, checking it for new information.

A fresh sheet awaits Bristol.

Plucking it up, she scans through to realize that the sickness is known. However, it is a rare mutation of the flu virus that spread through Europe years ago. It started to respond to the standard flu medication and was thought to be well controlled.

It hadn't been seen in America in seventy years- in Europe, fifty. There was a small notation that forces were dispatched to cleanse a research facility in Europe last month. All personnel was thought to have been accounted for.

The origin and difference of the flu is not known to civilians - as command holds the belief it was mutated through contact with ENEs. A second sheet begins to come through as Bristol finishes her reading.
It seems to be a profile on a ENE that reads 'vampire' - allergy to sunlight, need for blood and the unusual ability to evade capture. It was originally captured at the facility but escaped during transport. It was recaptured at the port attempting to stowaway on a ship.
It was transported to a facility in the United States where it was held for four days before it usurped the minds of two of its handlers and escaped.

"So what've we got, Bristol?" Donahue dumped the cereal bowl into the dishwasher and supported himself on the counter with his palms as he flexed his knees. Moving from the hips sent a spark of pain right into his spine, but it was dulled and distant with the medication he was popping. Good. That would help the joint begin to loosen. He'd need to be able to crawl on his belly with his rifle when they were scoping out the upcoming meeting.

"Well, I got a little bit of news for you. Looks like this is a mutation of the Spanish 'flu- you know, the one that did all that damage after WWI? Command thinks it's mutated by ENE contact. I'm guessing vampire... we got a really nice profile of one with the rest of the information, and hey, corpses carry diseases. Not much of a physical lead though... we'll have to keep an eye out." Laura handed the faxed information over so Donahue and Mike could read through at their leisure.