“The other samples delivered the virus during the refining process. Their cell wall decayed, and the virus was released into the surrounding areas. These samples are different. The cell walls are weakened but still intact, and the virus is still trapped inside.”
Nhial was still staring at the door. One of the men turned and looked through the glass window. His smile vanished from his face, replaced with a cold, determined stare.
Nhial glanced at the other side of the room. Another door in the opposite wall led outside to the campus.
“Doctor, we must leave. Now!”
Nena tilted her head and gave him a surprised look. “What? We can’t leave. I still have work to—”
She was cut off as the men opened the door.
“Doctor Vasani,” one of them called out. “You must come with us. We are with the Juba police.”
Nhial grabbed her hand and pulled her to the opposite door. “Move,” he hissed. “Quickly!”
As he dragged her out the back door, Nena saw the men hurry their pace and draw pistols from their waistbands.
Nhial pulled her through the door and slammed it behind them. They ran down the narrow dirt path between two of the medical buildings.
“Who are they?” Nena gasped.
“They were with Takuba the day he came to Kanfar. The day he took my family!” Nhial shouted back. “They are Ghost Jackals!”
The two cleared the building and sprinted across the dirt square in the center of the campus. As they neared the stone arch of the entrance, a Jeep roared into the square and skidded to a stop. More men leapt out and marched towards them.
Nhial clutched Nena’s arm and jerked to a stop. “This way!” They turned and ran between another pair of buildings.
“The city is on high alert for the peace conference,” Nena huffed between breaths. “How did they get in here?”
“Takuba must have already had men in place,” Nhial muttered. “Like I said, this is the biggest medical center in South Sudan. He knew we would come here. I was a fool to bring you—”
As they raced around the corner he collided with a nurse wheeling a cart of IV bags. Nhial and the woman fell to the ground and the cart toppled over in the dirt.
Nena ran a few more feet, then looked back. She skidded to a stop. “Nhial!”
The Ghost Jackals rounded the building. They opened fire and bullets ricocheted off the wall behind Nena. The nurse screamed. She struggled to disentangle herself from Nhial’s sprawling body.
Nhial pointed to another alleyway behind Nena. “Go! Run!”
Nena gave him one last concerned look, then sprinted down a narrow gap between buildings.
Alone, she huffed for breath as she pumped her legs as fast as she could. A low stone wall stood at the end of the alley, the border between the campus and the street beyond. A few trucks and three-wheeled taxis motored past the school. If she could clear the wall, she knew she could get help, alert authorities. She could come back for Nhial.
She cleared the buildings and raced for the wall. It was only a few feet away … She threw out her arms and pushed off with her legs as she prepared to vault over the stone barrier.
Suddenly, something slammed into her left side. She felt strong arms wrap around her waist, and a heavy weight tackled her to the ground. Her head struck the earth. She felt a rock or tree root gouge into her side. She gasped as the wind exploded from her lungs. Kicking and panting for breath, she rolled over onto her back. The men released her and stood over her in the dirt. She heard a metallic click.
A third man walked up, one of the Ghost Jackals from the Jeep. He pointed a pistol at her head.
“That’s enough, Doctor,” he snarled.
Nena froze. The man smiled as she glared up at him with defiant eyes.
“Very good. Now, you will come with us. Mr. Takuba would like a word with you.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Caine led Josh across the compound. The battered agent’s wrists were cuffed behind his back, but Caine made sure they were loose enough to slip off if need be. The prison guard’s pistol hung in Josh’s waistband, covered by the tattered remains of his shirt.
“Somehow I don’t think you showed up here out of the goodness of your heart. You came to kill Takuba, not to find me,” Josh muttered as they stalked toward the main building. “Am I right?”
“Keep your voice down,” Caine snapped. “What are you doing in the field anyway? I thought you were heading Rebecca’s security detail. And the last time I saw you, your arm was broken.”
“Just a fracture,” Josh whispered. “I transferred to field ops as soon as it healed. Rebecca told me what you said before you disappeared again. That I let things get too personal. Well, maybe you were right. Soon as you showed up, she changed. I saw it in her eyes every time your name came up. And I’m not wired to be second best.”
“Drop it. I told Rebecca I was happy for you, and I meant it. You’re better for her than I was. That’s a fact.”
“Jesus, you really are an idiot, aren’t you?"
“Shut up. Are you sure this is the right building?”
They moved around the corner towards a large industrial building that sat at the center of the complex. Caine looked up at the distillation columns that rose up from the roof. A pair of small satellite dishes protruded from two of the columns.
“Yeah,” Galloway whispered. “This is where I saw Bernatto. The second floor has offices, computers, electronics … Best bet to find communications equipment is up there.”
Caine found a side door and twisted the handle. It was unlocked. He swung open the door and led Josh into the dark stairwell.
“You know,” Josh continued, “the irony is, I never wanted to work the field. When I joined the Special Operations Group, I chose the security branch because I already knew guys like you. I saw how they ended up. Burned out. Cut off from everyone they might give a shit about. And anyone who might give a shit about them. Guys like you, Caine … they die alone.”
Caine turned and slammed Josh against the wall of the stairwell.
"We don't have time for this. You got a problem with me, Galloway? If you have something you want to say, say it now!”
Josh glared into his eyes. “Well, well … looks like there’s a human being in there after all. So wake the fuck up. I asked her, Tom, I asked her point blank if she was over you.”
Caine stared back at him in silence.
“She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say anything. That’s when I knew.”
“Christ, Galloway, that’s not an answer.”
Josh shrugged. “Sure it is. Just not the one I wanted. Maybe you should ask her yourself.”
“Are you finished?”
Josh grinned. “Yeah. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Didn’t want there to be any unresolved hostility between us.”
Caine squinted, then released him. “You got a strange way of showing it.”
Josh gave him a crooked grin. “Nah, just pushing your buttons, that’s all. Come on, comms should be this way. Stop wasting time.”
Josh resumed walking up the stairs. Caine shook his head, then followed him up into the darkness.
Caine pushed Josh across the catwalk that led over the refinery floor. Two mercs stood looking over the railing, examining the floor below. Groups of prisoners were unloading weapons from carts and organizing the guns into various piles. It looked like the work was almost finished. More mercenaries were herding some of the prisoners back to the cells.
Caine knew it was only a matter of time before someone noted the missing prison guard and got suspicious.
The mercenaries paid them no mind as they walked past. Caine’s disguise appeared to be working, and Josh’s battered appearance marked him as a candidate for interrogation. As they cleared the catwalk, Caine glanced at the control panels and instruments that ran along the walls. They all appeared to be instruments and monitors that controlled the refining equipment. The stations were dark and unm
anned.
They moved through a metal door and entered a corridor lined by rows of offices and cubicles.
“Last time they dragged me out this way, I saw something through an open door. Looked like a VSAT terminal, but I couldn’t be sure.”
Caine nodded. VSATs, or Very Small Aperture Terminal systems, were a common communication solution for industries that operated in remote areas, with no cell towers or other infrastructure. It made sense that an oil refinery like this would have a terminal somewhere, with a link to the satellite dishes outside.
“You better be right. If we can’t get through to Rebecca, then all of this is for nothing.”
“Hey, at least we get a star on the wall at Langley,” Josh whispered.
“Yeah,” Caine muttered. “What an honor.”
Finally, they found a door marked “COMMS.”
Josh opened the door. “We’re lucky this place was an oil refinery and not a military installation. Takuba doesn’t seem too worried about security.”
WHOOP! WHOOP! An alarm blared to life, and spinning red lights flooded the corridor with a hellish crimson glow.
“You were saying?” Caine muttered as he pushed past Josh into the room.
“Lock must have a proximity alarm or something,” Josh shouted. “Anyone without a security badge triggers it when they open the door.”
“Cover the entrance!” Caine ordered. He examined the communications equipment sitting on the desk.
The VSAT box was a small rack of electronics that resembled a computer server. A series of cables ran into a PC computer on the desk. A second cluster of cables ran up through the roof, presumably to the satellite dishes outside. Caine tapped on the keyboard and the computer screen lit up with a soft glow.
A text message popped up on the screen. “VSAT COMMUNICATIONS RESTRICTED. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. ENTER LOGON.” A cursor flashed below the message.
“Damn it!” Caine hissed. “They’ve locked the system down.”
The alarm continued to blare, but no one entered the corridor. Josh kept his pistol trained on the door that led from the catwalk. He glanced left and right.
“If they know we’re here, where the hell is everyone?”
The alarm’s wailing ceased. A loud crackling echoed through the room. “Put down your weapons. Hands on your head. Do it now, please.”
Caine looked up and gritted his teeth. The voice was familiar. “Bernatto,” he snarled.
He stormed into the hallway and moved towards the door. He held his rifle up, ready to target any mercenaries that tried to breach their position.
“We’re going to have to fight our way out,” he said.
Josh glanced over at him. “You know that’s crazy. We’re outnumbered and outgunned.
The speaker blared back to life. “You should listen to him, Tom. I always told you, don’t let things get personal.”
Caine looked up at the ceiling. He couldn’t spot any obvious cameras, but Bernatto could obviously see them. “Allan! I told you I’d find you eventually,” he shouted.
“Yes, you did. And I believed you. That’s why I was prepared,” the voice boomed from overhead. A thunk sounded from the door ahead of them.
“Electronic locks,” Josh whispered. “He’s trapped us in here.”
“I control the ventilation system as well as the locks, Mr. Galloway. Now, you have ten seconds to lower your weapons and place your hands on your heads. After that, I flood the area with the refined Gemini Virus. You’ve seen the effects up close, you know what it can do.”
Josh looked at Tom and shook his head. “It’s not pretty. What do we do?”
Caine looked up at the ceiling once more. He lowered his weapon to the ground. “The only thing we can do. We survive.”
The door swung open, and a squad of mercenaries stormed down the corridor.
“Hands on your heads! Kick the weapons over here. Easy.”
Caine obeyed, then placed his hands behind his head. Josh did the same. They were cuffed and hustled out of the corridor.
“Take that one to the pit,” the lead mercenary snarled, nodding towards Josh. He turned to Caine and grinned. “You’re coming with me. You must have really pissed someone off. You just won yourself an audience with the man behind the curtain.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Allan Bernatto looked up from behind a desk as the Delta Blue mercenaries marched Caine into a large, circular office. The windows behind Bernatto took up half the room. The curved glass panel looked out over the refinery and the field beyond. To the left and right of Bernatto, a series of large screens and televisions stood on chrome metal stands. The dark black rectangles were still and lifeless.
Bernatto leaned back in his chair. He did not smile or frown. His expression was inscrutable behind his burned, scarred skin and slim, wireframe glasses.
"Hello, Tom."
Caine felt an involuntary tremor run through his muscles. His arms were cuffed behind his back, and he was covered by a half-dozen armed men. But every fiber of his being longed to throw himself at Bernatto. To attack him, to kill him, to tear into his flesh with his bare teeth if that was what it took to kill the man.
Instead, he forced himself to look straight ahead, out the panoramic window. He remained silent and watched as a large cargo helicopter landed in the center of the field. The powerful rotors of the Mil Mi-17 helicopter thumped through the air. He could hear it even through the thick glass.
“I knew you’d come, Tom,” Bernatto said, staring at Caine over the rims of his glasses. “Like I said, I took your threat seriously. A man like you, with your skills and training … I’d be a fool not to. But I have to admit, I thought we’d get you in Khartoum, or Malakal. I never thought you’d make it all the way here.”
Caine kept his eyes on the helicopter. He watched as a trio of dark figures emerged in the distance and walked towards the building.
Bernatto glanced back at the helicopter. “Mr. Takuba will be joining us shortly. He intercepted your doctor friend in Juba.”
Caine tensed but said nothing.
“You know, it’s funny,” Bernatto said, his dark beady eyes half-closed behind his glasses. “For the first time, I’m not sure who you’d rather kill. Me, or that madman.”
“Madman?” Caine stared at Bernatto. “He’s your partner.”
The older man stood up and shrugged. “Thanks to you and Rebecca, friends are hard for me to come by these days. I knew someone who was looking for an asset in East Africa. I remembered our old operation here. Takuba was willing to play ball in exchange for a seat at the table.”
“You know Takuba’s insane. If you’ve thrown in with him, you’re more desperate than I thought. What’s this all about, Allan? Oil? Whatever it is, I guarantee you Takuba will go down in flames and take your plan with him.”
“Takuba will serve his purpose. After that, he’s expendable, the same as any of us. And just for the record, it’s not my plan.”
“So who’s pulling your strings?”
Bernatto picked up a small remote from the desk.
“You never could see the big picture, Tom.” He pressed a button and the dark screens blinked to life.
A blurry, distorted face turned towards the camera. Caine squinted, but he could not make out any details of the man on the screen. Something about the face looked familiar, but he could not quite place it.
“Thomas Caine. Been a long time, son. Lot of water under the bridge, but you still look fit. Still got that look in your eyes, too.”
The voice was masked but the speech patterns, the Southern drawl … Could it really be him, Caine wondered. After all these years?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caine said. “What look? Do I know you?”
“Sure you do. The look I told you I saw in your eyes. Years ago, when you were recruited for the Special Activities Division. I told you your talents would go to waste running agents, analyzing signals, working behind a desk. You’re a nat
ural born predator, son. A killer. Just like me.”
“Is that why you’re afraid to look me in the eye?” Caine asked, staring at the screen, struggling to mask his disbelief.
“Shit, son, we taught you better than that. You don’t look a man in the eye when you kill him. Not unless you have to, anyway. You stab him in the back. Or you shoot him from a hundred yards away. Hell, you bomb his house from another country if you can. You do whatever you have to, to get the job done. We didn’t train you to fight fair. We trained you to win.”
“Grissom,” Caine said. “It’s really you.”
The distorted blur on the screen dropped away, revealing a craggy, wrinkled face. Pale, sunken skin and bushy white brows framed a pair of baby blue eyes. The man smiled. His lips were thin and dry, a hard slash set below a bulbous pink nose.
“Nice to see you remember me after all, Tom,” the man called Grissom said.
“How could I forget?” Caine glared at the screen. “Walter Grissom. Former Director of the National Clandestine Service. And Allan Bernatto’s old boss.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Josh felt sharp vibrations of pain rattle through his body as the truck bounced over rough, uneven terrain. He was battered and bruised. The muscles in his arms throbbed in pain from being tied behind his back for so long. Darkness surrounded him. His head was covered by a black, sweat-stained hood.
As they drove, he kept a slow methodical count in his head. He estimated they had been driving for about twenty minutes. Based on the turns the vehicle made, he believed they were heading north, but it was impossible to be sure.
Finally, the truck lurched to a stop. He heard the driver’s door open, then slam closed. Another door swung open, and hands grabbed at his legs, yanking him off the seat. He groaned in pain as he fell to the ground and rolled a few feet from the truck.
Someone yanked the hood from his face, and he squinted in the sudden, harsh light of day.
“Get up,” a deep voice commanded.
Thomas Caine series Boxset Page 93
