“That and a good fireball from the fuel truck on the tarmac,” said Larsen. “I couldn’t see the helicopters.”
“I’m sure they’re burning fiercely,” said Rich.
“This is definitely going to attract some attention,” said Larsen. “Everyone at the airport is probably watching this right now.”
“I don’t think it matters,” said Rich. “Ecker, will anyone report this?”
“Not directly. It was a totally compartmentalized operation,” said Ecker. “Regional headquarters will pick up the reports of an explosion at the airport and put two and two together pretty quickly. That’s when their secrecy will work against them. HQ will send a team like mine over to the airport to make the initial assessment. They’ll land, look around and quickly realize they’re not equipped to make any assessment about what happened beyond—everything blew up. HQ will order them to form a perimeter to keep the riffraff out while they seek direction from whoever is running everything. They’ll have to contract a forensics team to dig through the mess.”
“Then we need to hack into your HQ as soon as possible,” said Rich.
Larsen was thrown against the machine gun’s handle as the HUMVEE rocketed forward. He shut the hatch and buckled into his seat again.
“Was it really that crazy?” said Ecker.
“Yeah. The roof fucking blew off like a movie.”
“Good.”
They drove in silence, the HUMVEEs easily pushing eighty miles per hour the entire time. Stop signs were ignored. The few cars on the road were overtaken and left in their dust. Several people tried to flag them down, only to barely escape being run over. Route 40 started to show signs of suburban development several minutes into the trip. A lone sign welcomed them to Plainfield, Indiana.
“Are we still inside the outer quarantine zone?” said Larsen.
Ragan shook her head. “No idea.”
“We are definitely inside the second boundary,” said Ecker. “Should be hitting some kind of checkpoint soon.”
“Won’t be trouble, right?” said Larsen.
“None at all,” said Ecker. “They’ll scan the barcode on the windshield and wave us through.”
“Does the lead vehicle know that?” said Larsen. “We don’t need a record of our travels available to the powers that be.”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you and Rich have any kind of discussion about this little trip?” said Larsen.
“Not really.”
“Fuck me,” said Larsen, pressing his radio transmit button. “Rich, we’re still inside the second quarantine boundary.”
“Yeah. We’re aware of that,” said Rich. “Coming up on a checkpoint right now.”
“Not good. They’re going to scan the barcode on your windshield,” said Larsen. “That’s going to show up in the system.”
“What barcode?”
“Ecker said they’ll scan the barcode on the windshield and wave us through,” said Larsen. “Kind of a courtesy thing, except—”
“Yeah. I get it,” said Rich. “We’re pulling over.”
Larsen’s HUMVEE slowed down, coming to a stop behind the first vehicle. In the distance, two similarly equipped armored vehicles partially blocked the road.
“Any more surprises, Ecker?” said Larsen.
“No. I just assumed you guys had this all figured out.”
“Because everything has gone so smoothly up to this point?” said Larsen.
“Yes. Pretty much.”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” said Larsen, pointing at the HUMVEE in front of them. “Nothing they’ve done to this point has been part of any preconceived plan. They’re flying by the seat of their pants. Entirely. If there’s anything else you forgot or think might be critical to our survival, please share it with them.”
“There’s something we might be able to do,” said Ecker.
“The microphone is all yours,” said Larsen, activating his radio. “Ecker has an idea.”
“Go for it,” said Rich.
“I’ve seen Archer use her tablet to gain access to classified locations or pull rank on military commanders. I think the same barcode scanners used by the checkpoint units can be used with the tablet.”
“That leaves us with the same problem,” said Rich. “There’s still going to be a record.”
“I don’t think so,” said Ecker. “Archer’s position is highly classified. She made a comment about that once. How the CTAB was the only way anyone could track her. As long as the tablet can’t transmit, I don’t think a checkpoint scan will register in the system.”
“It’s worth a try,” said Larsen. “Worst-case scenario, they get a hit on Archer’s location. Still better than two of their unmarked HUMVEEs passing through this checkpoint a few minutes after the hangar went sky high.”
“How do we stop them from scanning the HUMVEEs?” said Rich.
“Remove the device attached to the lower left part of the windshield,” said Ecker. “It’s like one of those E-Z Pass things. Stuff it in the glove box. Then switch up the vehicle order. Our driver needs to impersonate Archer.”
“She doesn’t look like Archer,” said Rich.
“Not even close,” said Ragan. “I’m blonde. She’s brunette.”
“They won’t have a picture of you in the system,” said Ecker. “They’ll get an authorization code telling them not to fuck with you in any way. Trust me. Based on what I’ve seen, Archer can pull authority over every military, police and government official in the state, other than her immediate boss.”
“Let’s go with Ecker’s plan,” said Rich. “Ragan, you’re now the notorious Karyn Archer. Drive up and we’ll give you the CTAB. Are you comfortable talking your way through this?”
“Don’t worry about her,” said Larsen. “She breaks balls for a living.”
“Fuck you,” said Ragan. “Yeah. I’m good with this.”
“See what I mean?”
Larsen opened the turret hatch just in case he needed quick access to the machine gun. He couldn’t imagine it coming to that, but Ecker could be completely mistaken about the CTAB—and you never really knew what was going to happen with Rich’s people. He leaned back in his seat and readied his rifle, praying he wouldn’t have to use either.
Chapter 20
Ecker wiped the sweat off his brow, hoping they didn’t see his involuntary reaction to Rich’s name slip. Rich had unintentionally identified the last name of one of the operators sitting in Ecker’s HUMVEE, which triggered a cascade of connections in his head. The entire crew had stuck to first names, which he had just assumed were generic aliases. In fact, none of them had addressed the woman by name over the radio net or in person until a few seconds ago.
Ragan. Laura Ragan. Listed as deceased, but obviously alive and well. Eric. Eric Larsen. His affiliation with these people changed things. Ecker wasn’t sure how, but it had to be more than a coincidence. According to Archer, Larsen had been “black flagged” in the system, which meant he was to be interrogated and summarily executed if apprehended. He’d gone rogue and allegedly murdered his own team, possibly kidnapping the target he had been assigned to protect. He was also suspected in the killing of Paul Ochoa’s team.
He wiped his face again, wondering what the hell he had gotten into with these people, and how he could get out of it—alive. Ragan drove forward, pulling even with the other HUMVEE, where they waited for a few moments. His eyes remained fixed on the checkpoint ahead. Maybe he could slip away there, warning the soldiers. No. This group had managed to knock down three helicopters and slice through his team like butter. He’d just get the soldiers and himself killed.
“You gonna open the window?” said Ragan, nodding at the HUMVEE next to them.
“Sorry. Spaced out for a second,” said Ecker, rolling down the thick bullet-resistant glass.
Ecker extended his hand to receive the tablet, which the driver pulled away from his reach. Rich leaned across the front sea
ts, his face next to the driver’s.
“You can’t touch the screen with bare fingers,” said Rich. “It constantly scans fingerprints.”
Ragan reached across him with a gloved hand, and the driver gave her the tablet.
“We’re pretty sure this is the code scan screen. If it isn’t?” said Rich, grimacing. “Let’s just hope it is.”
“Looks like the right screen,” said Ecker.
“You know that thing has air-conditioning, right?” said Rich.
“What?” said Ecker, still half focused on the checkpoint.
“Air-conditioning. You look like you could use it,” said Rich.
Ecker nodded and rolled up the window.
“We ready?” said Larsen.
Ragan just nodded.
“Ready,” said Ecker, adjusting his rifle.
He still wasn’t sure who he’d use it on if the checkpoint gambit fell apart.
Chapter 21
Rich looked over his shoulder just as Rico shoved Archer’s legs out of view behind the empty backseat.
“This bitch is out!” said Rico before squaring himself away in his seat. “She’s barely stirring.”
“I really hope you didn’t overdose her,” said Rich. “I’d like to have a one-on-one chat with her later.”
“She’ll be fine,” said Rico. “Heads up.”
He turned around in time to see Larsen’s HUMVEE pull past the two soldiers manning a tight opening through a series of concrete Jersey barriers arranged to funnel vehicles into the main checkpoint area and prevent high-speed approaches. They had waved the vehicles through the initial screening zone, directing them to the primary barricade, which consisted of two up-armored HUMVEES completely blocking the road. A third armored vehicle sat about twenty yards back from the others, a soldier standing a little too high in its turret—pointing a MK19 40mm automatic grenade launcher in their direction. Ecker better not crack. He hadn’t looked so good when they handed over the tablet.
“Hit the MK19 gunner first if this goes to shit,” said Rich. “Then hit the gun until you’re one hundred percent sure it’ll never work again. We can’t compete with that MK19.”
“Got it,” said Rico.
Rich’s right hand drifted to his door handle as they pulled up behind Larsen’s HUMVEE. If Ecker opened his door, he’d be dead before his body hit the street.
“You worried about Ecker?” said Jeff, glancing at Rich’s hand.
“He looked like a man about to do something really stupid,” said Rich.
“Because of your little fuck-up?” said Rico.
“Your partner can really get under my skin sometimes,” said Rich, keeping his focus on Ecker’s door.
“Try working with him mission after mission,” said Jeff.
“How’s it looking on your side?” said Rich.
“Some verbal back and forth,” said Jeff. “The soldiers look relaxed. One of them just raised some kind of device to Ragan’s window.”
He pressed his radio transmitter. “Larsen, how we looking?”
“Good so far. They just scanned the tablet,” whispered Larsen.
“The soldiers just snapped to attention,” said Jeff. “One of them is emphatically waving the HUMVEE through.”
One of the Army vehicles backed up, making room for them to continue west on Route 40.
“Larsen, make sure they wave ours through, too,” said Rich.
“Already made crystal clear by our Golden Globe winner here,” said Larsen.
“Best screenplay goes to the asshole in the backseat,” said Ragan, her HUMVEE already rolling through the gap between the Army vehicles. “Nervous Nellie kept whispering in my ear the whole time.”
“Great job to the bickering couple,” said Rich. “When we get past the checkpoint, we’ll take the lead again. Our support team isn’t far away.”
They sped through the empty streets, pausing long enough at the few major intersections in Plainfield to avoid a premature end to their day, though he suspected the armored HUMVEEs could pretty much plow through any vehicle they might encounter on any of these roads. He checked the commercial GPS unit programmed with the team’s location, verifying that they were almost there. When the downtown area started to fade, yielding a series of housing development entrances along the road, he told Jeff to slow down.
“Three more streets. Take a right on Vandalia,” said Rich.
“They’re hiding out in the suburbs?” said Jeff.
“Better than the Walmart parking lot,” said Rich. “Graves said they haven’t seen a soul since they got there. People are really scared.”
“I can imagine,” said Jeff.
“Actually, you can’t,” said Rich. “And I don’t say that lightly. It’s truly worse than we thought.”
“We’ll nail them to the wall for this,” said Jeff.
“I hope so. I really fucking hope so,” said Rich. “Here’s the turn.”
Jeff eased them onto Vandalia, where they passed through a flanking pair of elaborately constructed, brick and stone walls featuring the development’s name. Vandalia Hills. Rich chuckled to himself. This had to be the flattest piece of land he’d seen since arriving in the flattest state he’d ever visited.
“Stay on Vandalia. There’s a neighborhood pool and recreation facility a half mile in, with a small parking lot where we’ll find our team.”
Rich scanned the side roads as they drove up Vandalia Street, finding them devoid of human activity. He was happy to see several cars parked in the driveways. They would grab one of those for Ecker after he had a heart-to-heart with the man. If Rich sensed any indication that Ecker would drive out of here with second thoughts, the guy wouldn’t be returning to his family—ever.
He simply couldn’t run the risk of Ecker reaching out to Archer’s superiors and trying to smooth things over on his end. In fact, he really wasn’t sure why he was letting him go in the first place. It would be much easier to put a bullet in his head and leave him in the parking lot, but something about doing that without a more proactive reason didn’t sit well with him. Maybe he was getting soft, or maybe he’d just seen enough killing. His headset chirped.
“Is that your van?” said Larsen.
“Yes,” he said, knowing something sarcastic was next.
“Jesus. Looks like a child molester van. I’m surprised the cops haven’t shown up.”
“It’s designed to blend in,” said Rich.
“With the rest of the child molester vans.”
“With other local utility or commercial vans,” said Rich, not sure why he was letting Larsen bait him into this ridiculous argument.
“Don’t commercial vans usually have their logo on the side?” said Larsen.
Jeff started to laugh.
“What?” said Rich.
“It does look like a molester van,” said Jeff.
Rico broke out into a hyena-like laugh from the backseat. “He’s so fucking with you right now.”
“I can’t wait to get away from all of you. Fuck! Like dealing with a bunch of kids,” said Rich. “And you’re in your mid-forties!”
“Late forties,” said Jeff, still having a hard time keeping a straight face.
They were all punch-drunk tired at this point. Laugh at anything. At least that was what he told himself. Graves slid the van’s side door open and hopped out as they pulled into the parking lot. He had to admit Graves didn’t look right emerging from a windowless van parked next to a playground.
“Don’t say it,” said Rich over the net.
“Didn’t have to,” said Larsen.
They met next to the van as a group, Ecker handing the CTAB to Graves.
“You’re going to need the owner of that CTAB to keep it running,” said Rich.
“Hopefully not for long. I’m pretty sure I can override the biometric protocols. Won’t happen right here, so I’ll take the owner for now,” said Graves. “I’m going to need a driver so we can work nonstop.”
“Rico, that’s you. Load her up and make sure she’s restrained,” said Rich. “I can’t afford to put anyone else in that van.”
“On it,” said Rico, taking off to transfer Archer.
“Any luck with the computer?” said Rich.
“Not sure yet,” said Graves. “I managed to send some data back to the network through their crypto relay. It’s a sophisticated Trojan virus that—”
“The short version,” said Rich. “We need to get moving.”
“The virus runs by itself to find us a backdoor in. I just don’t know if it got far enough into the system to get us what we want.”
“What are you after?” said Larsen.
“Everything,” said Rich. “We’re probably not going to find the information we want at Grissom, but someone at the regional headquarters will be directly connected to someone deeper in the conspiracy. We hack our way up, collecting data as we go. At some point, we’ll have what we need to take the real Ajax down.”
“Archer’s call sign was Ajax,” said Ecker.
“Everyone at her level or above is an Ajax,” said Rich.
“There’s a guy called ‘the colonel’ at Grissom,” said Ecker. “Archer’s boss. At least I assume he’s her boss. She referred to him deferentially a few times.”
“Colonel Warren Cooper,” added Larsen. “He’s in charge of the CHASE teams.”
“He’s probably in charge of more than that,” said Rich.
“I’ll see what I can find on this guy,” said Graves.
“Then we’re out of here,” said Rich. “Tim, can I borrow you on the way out to steal a car?”
“Sure thing. I’ve been looking forward to using that,” said Graves.
“Ecker is with me,” said Rich. “Need to have a little chat before we part ways.”
Larsen shot him a disapproving look. As they crossed paths returning to their vehicles, Rich stopped him.
“I’m letting him go, but I need to be sure.”
“Fair enough,” said Larsen, maintaining a neutral face as he walked to his HUMVEE.
Rich really wanted to punch Larsen in the face, which was a good thing. The former SEAL would make a great addition to the team.
The Zulu Virus Chronicles Boxset (Books 1-3) Page 71
