by Dirk Patton
“Rachel’s back. Colonel Chapman and Staff Sergeant Martin were killed. Colonel Chase had a rough go of it, but he’s back in action. On his way into Phoenix.”
“To complete the mission? Is that still necessary at this point, sir?”
“More than, Chief. See that?”
Jessica looked at the still smoking wreckage that was clogging Pearl Harbor when he pointed.
“Barinov’s never going to stop, unless we stop him. He’ll continue to harass us. Perhaps the next time it’s worse. We lost a couple of hundred workers when those ships were hit. What if he decides to punish the civilian population for not willingly becoming his slaves? What then? A missile into a hospital or a couple of schools? We can’t keep fighting a war of attrition, Chief. We’re too few.”
“Excuse me, Admiral.”
They both looked up in surprise, not having heard Rachel approach, then leapt to their feet.
“Was the file worth it?” Rachel asked, looking intently at Packard.
He was going to refuse to answer a question about something that was highly classified, but at the last moment changed his mind.
“Yes, it was. It may very well save all of us.”
“Not all,” she said sadly. “May I borrow Jessica? I need to go tell Ziggy that... that her husband isn’t coming back. I don’t want to do that in front of her children.”
Her voice caught and a tear rolled down her cheek. Jessica glanced at the Admiral who nodded permission.
“Would it be helpful if I joined you?” he asked.
Rachel shook her head.
“No offense, sir, but I don’t imagine she’s going to want to see anyone in uniform right now.”
Packard nodded his understanding.
***
Rachel stood in the lobby of the VOQ, waiting. Jessica had rushed off to her quarters to change out of her uniform while Rachel stopped in hers to wash her face and compose herself. Less than five minutes passed before Jessica hurried in through the door and together, they walked to the quarters Ziggy and Lucas had been assigned.
Raising her hand to knock, Rachel hesitated. Just stood there, staring at the highly polished wooden door.
“You okay, ma’am?” Jessica asked gently.
“No. I don’t know what to say.”
“The truth. She deserves the truth.”
Rachel looked at the younger woman and after another long pause, rapped lightly on the door. It was late, but Ziggy, wearing a robe, answered quickly, blinking in surprise as she looked back and forth between her two visitors.
“I... I have to tell you something,” Rachel said.
Ziggy stopped breathing, knowing what was coming from the expression on their faces. Reading the situation, Jessica stepped forward and slipped through the door.
“I’ll watch the kids,” she said gently.
When Ziggy didn’t respond or even move, she faded back into the room.
“How?” Ziggy asked in a low voice as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled across her cheeks.
“Saving me. Saving John and Mavis. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.”
Ziggy took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly nodded as she wiped her eyes.
“That’d be him, alright. Always the bloody hero.”
She tried to draw a breath, but a sob racked her entire body and she began to collapse. Rachel grabbed her, wrapping her in her arms. She held tight as Ziggy cried, surprised when she suddenly straightened and stepped back. Tears still flowed, but she made no attempt to dry her face.
“Where is he?”
“I brought him back,” Rachel said, through her own tears. “He’s being taken care of.”
“I want to see him.”
“Not like this,” Rachel said.
Ziggy stared at her, slowly nodding her head.
“What do I tell my kids?”
“That their father gave his life saving others,” Rachel said gently. “That they should be proud of the man he was.”
“Is that what you’ll tell yours if John doesn’t come back? Think that’ll help them sleep at night without a father?”
Rachel blinked in surprise at the question that cut to the quick but was unable to feel anything other than deep sorrow for the other woman.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Ziggy said.
She looked at Rachel for a long moment, then stepped forward as she dissolved into a series of sobs. They held each other for a long time before Ziggy allowed herself to be led to Rachel’s quarters.
The kids were all sleeping and Jessica had been listening from within the room. With her own tears wetting her cheeks, she watched them walk away before gently closing the door.
67
Martinez got us safely on the ground, taxiing the Osprey until it was mostly hidden between two massive FedEx cargo planes that were sitting dark and empty on flat tires. As we’d arrived, I’d gotten a brief look at the long-term parking area and had been happy to note it was over half full of cars. That solved the ground transport problem.
I had Strickland set Martinez up with one of the digital radios so we could communicate with her. She, Joe and Mavis were staying with the aircraft to get it refueled and ready to go the instant we returned with Irina and Igor. Dog was none too happy about being left behind, but I wanted him protecting Mavis.
As they set out to search for a fuel truck, Gonzales and Strickland formed up on me and we took off for the parking area. It was on the opposite side of the terminal, nearly a mile away by the time we circled the area, and I set off at a fast trot.
Thoughts of Rachel and our babies swirled through my head as I ran. I’d like to say they were good ones, but all I could picture were two horrible little creatures growing inside her womb until they tore their way out. I tried to remember when Rachel had likely gotten pregnant, but the time since the attacks was one big blur. I remembered defining events, but a single coupling with her, beyond our first time, didn’t qualify as especially noteworthy. Not that I’d ever admit that to her.
Reaching the gate that opened into the secure parking area, I stopped to scan ahead for threats and realized Strickland and Gonzales were no longer with me. Stepping away from the opening so my back wasn’t exposed, I looked out at the tarmac and spotted them nearly half a mile away, still running. Blinking in surprise, I realized that my worries had pushed me to a fast run and I’d apparently left them in the dust.
Irritated that neither had used their radio to let me know what was happening, I blew out a breath of frustration when I found the earpiece dangling over my shoulder. It had probably been pulled loose when I hugged Mavis goodbye and I’d failed to notice. Feeling properly foolish, I reconnected and called Strickland.
“Chirst, sir,” he responded, sounding slightly winded. “You got a rocket up your ass or what?”
“Sorry, Chief. My bad. Just pick it up, will you?”
“Colonel or not, I should shoot you in the ass to slow you down,” he fired back.
We got off the radio and while I waited for them to catch up, I scanned the parking lot. Nothing but civilian vehicles left behind by air travelers. I paid attention to the glass as well. All these cars and trucks had been sitting for a long time, which meant their windshields would be very dirty to the point of almost opaque. If there were any with clean glass, or even clean spots, it would mean someone had been here recently. But everything looked as it should.
“You SEALs are slow,” I said when they finally arrived.
They both gave me a look and I could tell they weren’t amused.
“Either of you hotwire a car faster than you can run?” I asked, unable to resist rubbing their noses in the dirt a little bit.
“Figured we’d just find a rickshaw and let you pull us slow ass squids. Sir.”
I looked at Strickland for a long moment before grinning and shaking my head.
“You’re definitely the right one for Martinez,” I said, earning a surprised look.
“Sir, i
t’s...”
I held up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t give a shit about an officer and NCO fraternizing, Chief. Those days are over, at least for a long time.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said, sounding relieved.
“But,” I said, looking directly into his eyes. “You ever hurt her, I will fucking destroy whatever’s left that she didn’t carve up. Understand me?”
He held my gaze for a moment before nodding.
“Loud and clear, sir. And you don’t have to worry.”
This wasn’t the time for this conversation, and Gonzales pointedly cleared his throat to get our attention.
“Maybe standing out here with our dicks flapping in the breeze isn’t the best idea.”
“Noted, Master Chief. Go find us a ride.”
He slapped Strickland on the shoulder and they took off through the gate. I followed, rifle up and scanning the wider area as they focused on the available vehicles. After a brief search, Gonzales stopped next to an older, battered Chevy truck. Anywhere else in America it would be rusting out with all of the body damage, but the dry Arizona climate had helped preserve it.
“Not optimistic about the engine,” I said softly.
“Gotta be an old one, sir. I can’t defeat the anti-theft features on the newer cars.”
Gonzales spoke as he worked his knife along the driver’s window. A moment later there was a metallic pop and the glass dropped open several inches. He reached through, pulled the lock up and yanked the door open.
“Done that a time or two, huh?” Strickland asked.
“Nah. I was a choirboy,” the Master Chief said with a snort.
Working beneath the dash, it was less than a minute before the starter sounded. It ground slowly and I held my breath that there was enough juice remaining in the battery. It quickly began to slow even further, then the engine hiccupped, stuttered and died. Gonzales tried the starter again, but all he got was a clicking sound.
“Okay. Old school,” he said. “Gimme a push.”
It had been a long time since I’d push-started a vehicle, and the Chevy started easier than I remembered it ever happening. But then I’d never been able to push a truck up to ten miles an hour before.
The engine didn’t sound healthy, but I was pretty sure that was due to the aging fuel. Regardless, it kept running, even if it did idle like it was trying to shake itself apart. Gonzales revved it a couple of times and while it wasn’t great, it was functional.
Strickland and I piled in and we were off. Every two minutes it seemed like the engine was about to wheeze its last gasp, but somehow it kept chugging along.
The streets were empty and dark, but I could see a faint glow on the northern horizon where the Russians had moved in. We ran without headlights for concern of a patrolling aircraft spotting us. Sure, thermal would ID the hot engine in a heartbeat, but I didn’t expect the Russians were actively scanning the entire metro area for heat signatures. Not unless they knew we were coming and since the Osprey hadn’t been fired upon, I was pretty sure we’d successfully snuck in.
It took an hour to reach downtown Phoenix. In that time, we’d not seen a single infected nor any sign of Russian patrols. Perhaps we’d gotten lucky, or maybe they were just supremely arrogant and didn’t think there was any danger in the neighborhood.
Leaving the truck in a narrow alley that ran behind a row of houses, we moved silently through the darkness toward the jail complex. The moon was bright enough that I was worried about being spotted if there were guards posted outside. But there were darker shadows to be found and we stuck to them as we approached.
“Open door on the east wall.”
Strickland’s voice over the radio. I froze where I was and leaned around the corner of a building for a look. A solid steel door stood half open and I could just make out a pair of legs that were keeping it from closing. Taking my time, I scanned a full circle, but didn’t find anything amiss.
Telling the pair of SEALs to stay put and watch my back, I made my way forward in a series of dashes from shadow to shadow. Closing in, I could smell the sewer stench of death from a hundred feet away. Reaching the door, I aimed my rifle into the dimly lit interior, but it was quiet as a tomb. Glancing down, I checked the body, noting the unnatural angle of its neck and an obviously crushed skull. This gave me hope. There was only one person I could think of who was both in the jail and capable of doing this much damage. Igor was loose.
68
A short distance into the jail I found four more bodies dressed in Russian military uniforms. The men had died a brutal death, their blood and brain matter spattered across the walls. Stepping around the worst of the mess, I continued on and found a guard station with yet more corpses. Igor had been deadly efficient as well as merciless.
I only continued my search because there was a very slight possibility that someone other than Igor was responsible for all the death that had been dealt. Moving past the station, I checked cells as I went, pausing when I found one that reeked of more blood and death. Only there weren’t any bodies.
Stepping inside, I tentatively approached a medical style gurney that was coated in congealed blood. Someone had bled out. There was no way any human could lose that much and still live.
Not wanting to look, I forced myself to step close to the end that was obviously the head. Several long strands of blonde hair were stuck in the morass of blood. Picturing the vision I’d had of Irina joining our dead friends, I took a deep breath to help control the emotions surging through me. If I was right about the evidence, Igor had been too gentle with the men he’d killed.
Backing out of the cell, I continued on and found where an interrogation and torture chamber had been set up. The floor was filthy with blood and feces and I wasn’t going to enter, but something caught my eye. Stepping closer, I squatted and looked at a severed thumb lying next to a blood smeared manacle.
That was enough. What I’d seen told the story of how one of my friends had died and how the other had exacted vengeance on the jailers responsible. But where was he? And where was Irina’s body? Dismissing questions I couldn’t answer at the moment, I stood and hurried out of the jail, holding my breath until I reached fresh air.
“What’d you find?” Gonzales asked over the radio when I appeared.
“Lot of bodies,” I said.
“Igor and Irina?” Strickland asked.
“Not here.”
I didn’t feel like getting into my belief that an enraged Igor was on the loose.
“Got freshly turned soil,” Gonzales said a moment later. “Size of a grave. The park across the street.”
I turned and saw him kneeling beneath a pair of tall palm trees. Hurrying to his location, I stood looking down, but there was nothing to indicate who had been buried. All I knew was that I sure as fuck wasn’t going to dig it up to find out. Thinking about my next move, I had Strickland join us in the park.
“Whose grave?” he asked quietly, looking at the gentle hump of raw dirt.
“Don’t know.”
“What did you find in there?” he asked.
I hesitated, then took a breath and told them everything I’d seen, then what I was thinking. Strickland’s face fell when I described the blonde hairs I’d found on the bloody gurney.
“You think that’s her,” he said.
After a moment I nodded. Actually, I was convinced I’d found evidence that proved what I’d seen in my vision or whatever it’s called was true. Irina had been killed and Igor was on a one-man rampage.
“And Igor’s off the deep end. He’s going to kill everyone he encounters,” Strickland said.
“Maybe. Probably. And if I were him, I’d be heading toward those lights. Find the men who are ultimately responsible for this and end their miserable existence.”
I pointed to the northeast and both men turned to look in that direction.
“He’s only one man and they’re going to be well guarded,” Gonzales said.
“One man who doesn’t give a fuck anymore,” I said. “Makes him dangerous as hell.”
They nodded in agreement as I reached a decision.
“You two get back to the airport.”
“What are you doing?” Strickland asked with a frown.
“Going to find my friend and help him put an end to this. Once and for all. That’s the main reason I was here to begin with.”
“He’s my friend, too, and I’m coming with you,” Strickland said firmly.
“Negative, Chief. Get back to the airport and make sure everyone is safely evacd. That’s an order.”
He held my eyes and shook his head.
“You can court martial me later, sir, but I’m coming with you.”
I stared back at him, more impressed than upset. After a long few moments I turned to look at Gonzales.
“You as insubordinate as this one?”
“Just don’t follow bullshit orders, sir,” he said with a sarcastic grin.
“Fucking squids,” I grumbled with a shake of my head.
Changing frequencies on my radio, I contacted Martinez. The Osprey was refueled and ready to go. I gave her an abbreviated version of what was going on and thankfully she didn’t argue when I told her what we were doing. Had to be a first for her.
“Where do you want me in case you need air support?” she asked.
“I want you to keep my daughter safe and get her far away from the city if shit goes south. Don’t forget what’s coming.”
She was quiet for a bit before promising to take care of Mavis.
“Oh, and sir? If you could find a way to get Todd, I mean Chief Strickland, out of there in one piece, I’d really appreciate it.”
I told her I’d do my best and signed off, switching back to the lower powered tactical channel the SEALs and I were using.
“Your girlfriend says hi, Todd,” I said, grinning at Strickland and leading the way out of the park.
“Girlfriend?” Gonzales asked in surprise. “Damn, brother. You got balls. That chica’s scary as hell when she’s pissed off.”
“You have no idea,” Strickland muttered.
