Note: This is a freely accessible serialized version of Lab Leak Fever. Audio voiceover was AI generated for accessibility. Find an overview of all chapters here or consult the book website for further information. Heavy breaths followed a claustrophobic chase around the hotel room. Peter Daszak was doing his workout run from the showers through the bedroom to the antechamber and back, again and again and again. The Chinese hosts in Wuhan had placed him in quarantine for two weeks, and the pressure, isolation, and restrictions were difficult to deal with at times. He was an outdoor person. Twice daily, a team in full hazmat gear would knock on his door to take his temperature. “It really makes you feel dirty. Contagious,” he remembered thinking. He was not the only one. Marion Koopmans was two rooms away. “It was amazing; they were so strict. I really thought, ‘Okay, this is how plague victims must have felt.’ You really felt like contaminated waste, almost.” She showed me photos she’d taken at the time. “It’s dystopia; they have made a plastic corridor for us.” Plastic sheeting completely covered the hallway from top to bottom. They were sampled as per instructions: 5-second swabs and not a millisecond less. Everyone was suited up except them. Warning signs and restriction bands were everywhere. China had been COVID-free for months. She just hoped she would not get a fever from anything else because it was not clear what would happen if she did. And yet, they, along with eight other international experts, were finally there, where it all happened. “We had been asked before to be quiet about where we would go before,” she laughed, “then we landed in China and had an escort everywhere and a charade of media following us.” Peter Daszak and Marion Koopmans were two obvious scientists to reach out to when the WHO was assembling a mission to Wuhan in January 2021. Peter, the British zoologist, and head of the non-profit EcoHealth Alliance, had worked for decades on understanding viral spillover from bats, identified the origin of SARS with Shi Zhengli from WIV, and worked together with various emergent disease collaborators all over the world. He would be on the WHO’s animal and environment working group, trying to make sense of what happened at the Huanan market. I did not particularly want to serve. It irritated me. My big grant was canceled by Trump, and we went through months and months of misery. And I thought, “Why the hell should I help WHO? Doing the work that we should be doing for them?” That just seemed cruel, and then I am asked to volunteer for them? On the phone, he told Peter Karim Ben Embarek, who had assembled the mission, that he didn’t want to do it. On top of that, his participation would invite terrible political attacks on the WHO. Embarek just replied, “What’s new?” The WHO has been under attack on a daily basis; he naively believed it wouldn’t matter. Then, the WHO mission chief reiterated the enormous significance this work would have for the world. After some back and forth, Peter said that he would be available to the group, but he did not want to do fieldwork. “Ben said okay, but he did not take this as an answer; he kind of treated me like I was on the team.” Peter shrugged at how he ended up on the mission. The WHO team knew what they were doing and why they wanted him. “They wanted access to Chinese scientists, not just [because of] the lab issue, but because George Gao and the Wuhan Institute of Virology were investigating the outbreak… so the WHO needed somebody close to them.” Reports suggested that Beijing had indicated he would be a good person to have on the team. As best I can tell from Embarek’s comments, the suggestion came from Shi Zhengli herself. “It’s obvious if you got a researcher who you’ve been working with for 20 years who has not ripped you off, who had been honest with them,” Peter explained the likely rationale. It is worth retelling how Peter came to be on the WHO team because many conspiracy theorists claim that he inserted himself purposefully to aid in a possible cover-up. His email records with Ben Embarek tell a much different story: one of hesitation and duty. Until October, he still did not want to go to Wuhan. It was only on our first call when I saw the list that I had to begin to consider it. Fabian Leendertz was there, and a bunch of other people I had heard about. It was a very impressive team. Marion Koopmans was there too, and she is fantastic. After that first video call, he decided to commit to the mission. In the end, you just get carried over by the feeling of duty. This is what a scientist is supposed to do. If the outbreak of a global pandemic happens to be from a virus family you have been working on for years in the place you have been working, probably from the animals you have been working with, of course you should be sitting on that committee, trying to do everything you can. The Dutch virologist Marion Koopmans, who was scanning me with a gazing look behind sharp spectacles and white, spiky hair as she listened in on our conversation, agreed with that sentiment. She has investigated countless outbreaks in her career. She had started with noroviruses, hepatitis A virus, bird flu, and arboviruses. During the Ebola outbreak in West Africa, she was responsible for the deployment of mobile laboratories in Liberia and Sierra Leone. One would be hard-pressed to find anyone more knowledgeable and experienced to study novel outbreaks. She was very quick and to the point. “Every virus, and with it every outbreak, is different,” she explained. However, “with every spillover, you have a couple of key questions.” Hospital records, patient samples, and molecular and sampling data tend to be spread out over multiple locations, times, and people. Her job was to make sense of it. For her, the WHO reaching out and wanting her on the team was “the honor of a lifetime.” She did not hesitate to say yes. “I was leading the molecular epidemiology interaction. That collaboration actually was nice." She lauded her team and the Chinese collaborators. They basically had to figure out, from all the available data, which person, which genomic sequence, and what time. Putting that puzzle into place was challenging. The team made recommendations for analysis, and the Chinese side actually had scientists performing the work in real-time. “I think this group was maybe the least political because what you could do with genomics was not clear yet,” she laughed wholeheartedly. Indeed, the early epidemiologically linked sequences her team helped to establish and verify would hold incredibly important clues to the virus’s origin. She was not a fan of the simple narrative that took hold that the Chinese were not sharing data with them. “Yes, there can be more transparency, but look at all that was shared.” She continued, “It was remarkable. There were no agreements in place. If somebody came to us and said, ‘Give us all your hospital and patient data,’ there is no way this would work.” Yet, as she says, the Chinese scientists tried hard to make much of it work. That does not mean everything went smoothly, either. The WHO mission had two delegations: one of international scientists and one of Chinese scientists. The latter was constantly monitored and assisted by members of State Security, Foreign Affairs, and translators. “It was clear it is going to be this China-style process—you have these meetings where there is the director’s director, the director, the subdirector, and blah-blah—and everybody has to say something, and only then can you get to business.” Marion rolled her eyes. Working day and night analyzing data and being on group calls and meetings while in quarantine had been a strain, but their schedule afterward would not be much easier. The first two days out of quarantine, January 29th and 30th, they visited the Xinhua Hospital to interview doctors and staff and learn about patients. There was the obligatory political visit to the “Anti-Epidemic Exhibition Hall,” a memorial to the “heroic” actions of Chinese authorities in defeating the virus in Wuhan. Like in my interview with George Gao from the Chinese CDC, their Chinese hosts felt it was incredibly important to stress to foreigners how well they handled the outbreak. Peter Daszak showed me some footage he shot with his phone, and it was every bit as red communist propaganda as one might imagine. Life-size statues of doctors in various poses, heroic background music, and testimonies running on screens about the greatness of the leaders winning the war against the virus. Not exactly subtle. However, he still found it to be “really moving.” That was the point. The Chinese authorities wanted to convince the WHO mission, as well as the world, of a different perspective on the outbreak. Not of failure, blame, and death, but of heroic strife, folk bravery, and overcoming the odds. China had been COVID-free for many months, while the US and other countries were suffocated by the virus. Doesn’t that show Chinese superiority? Any hubris that they might have signaled fell short of reality when the WHO team arrived at the next stop. On January 31, 2021, more than a year after the outbreak emerged from there, the WHO mission finally visited the Huanan seafood market. “You walk into a dark hall; it is smelly. It still had white patches of disinfectant powder. It was eerie, like ground zero.” Marion Koopmans lent me her eyes for this visit. She found it really impressive to be there. “There were these assumptions that, oh, this was a very modern market… This idea went out the window fast,” she elaborated. “This was a wet market like any other I have ever been to,” Peter Daszak concurred. It had a mix of seafood, vegetables, restaurants, and live animals, all “stacked on top of each ot
