Climatic Climacteric Omnibus

by L. B. Carter

  Smith raised a finger. “I said plus or minus four minutes. Nice try.”

  Reed swore without heat. He was nervous, anxious to hear that his brother was all right after the journey—and Rena too. She was growing on him as a sister-without-law. “Well?”

  Smith kept his finger up. “They’re on the move. Couple MPH—indicates by foot. Heading inland from the port.”

  “Then what?” Kayna asked. “We check in with them?”

  Reed answered. “No. If we call at the wrong time, we could blow their cover. They’ll call us when they have privacy and a safe moment to do so. We just have to wait.”

  “Well that’s fecking nerve-wracking,” Tilly opined.

  No shit, Reed thought in his head, trying to contain his composure externally to provide a reliable and sturdy support for the folks who weren’t used to covert ops.

  “Status?” Val demanded a few seconds later when the silence was starting to jab at Reed.

  She had trouble leaving behind her inclination to take point when she moved here. Maybe Smith was right, and Val should stay in the protective rather than investigative side of the organization… with him.

  Unfortunately for her, being in charge was Reed’s usual MO. His thoughts dallied on how that fight for power would play out in the bedroom where—

  “They’re in the lab,” Smith replied.

  It didn’t help that his own team responded to Val as if she really did have authority. Her commanding tone was convincing.

  “Did you find out what part of the building they need?” Reed leaned close to the floor plan Smith had overlaid on top of the GPS signal.

  “No. That kind of information wasn’t public. Ace couldn’t get it. I had to hack into city files for this blueprint while you were out playing with this harem.”

  Reed would’ve objected to the ‘harem’ comment, except the idea had some merit that appealed to him.

  “Everything about this building was locked down tight. Or maybe deleted,” Smith guessed.

  Reed blew out a breath. Greenland was shutting that lab down hard. Other secrets? Or did they know about the virus? “I hope not. We need the recipe for that vaccine.”

  “Recipe?” Val scoffed at the inaccurate verbiage.

  An urgent beeping silenced everyone in the room.

  “What’s that? What’s wrong?” Kayna’s voice was tense. It was Reed’s brother and sister-without-law in there. It was also Kayna’s best friend and best friend’s boyfriend. And her boyfriend’s life on the line.

  “Relax. It’s my ringtone,” Smith diffused.

  “Jaysus. Can you pick something that doesn’t sound like a fecking bomb countdown?” Tilly exclaimed.

  Reed tensed. The b-word was not one to toss around on the compound.

  Smith handled it like the pro he was, though, and simply answered the call. “Nor? Check in. You’re on speaker.”

  They heard Nor’s breathing in surround-sound first. It was heavy and fast.

  Reed imagined the couple was running. There was no hitch that would imply Nor was hurt or upset. Rena must be fine, too.

  “Nor, it’s Reed. Check in,” Reed repeated when his brother didn’t offer anything besides proof of life… if that was him.

  “Reed? We’re in. Sort of.” Nor breathed for another minute.

  “Sort of?” Val asked.

  Reed quelled her with a glower. She knew as well as he did that having only one person speak avoided distracting the feet on the ground.

  She crossed her eyes at him, miming zipping her lips.

  Nor spoke away from the mic, likely to Rena.

  “Volume,” Reed requested, and a knob was cranked immediately.

  They were able to make out the rest of Nor’s directions. “—around the corner. Count to ten, then follow unless I whistle.”

  Reed kept quiet, letting Nor focus on his task.

  “Sort of?” Val whispered so only Reed could hear.

  The question was also eating at Reed.

  Tilly abruptly dropped into another desk chair. Smith eyed her sternly but she didn’t touch anything. Her head was bowed and her hands locked behind her neck. It was her friends on the line… and her brother if they didn’t get that vaccine.

  Everyone was invested in this. That was both helpful and incredibly stressful. Lot of pressure. The air in the room felt dense, his chest full of water.

  “Be careful,” Reed warned. “If you get exposed to the other specimen…”

  “All the more reason to find the vaccine,” Nor replied in a low voice, being the logical one.

  Reed exhaled through his nose. Val’s hand grabbed his again, making him startle. He hadn’t expected it this time. Not while they were handling a mission. He didn’t discourage it though.

  “Okay,” Nor finally whispered. “We’ve got it.”

  “It?” Reed needed to remind his brother about specifics during an op.

  “Specimen. Whole box of them. I think it’s all of them.”

  “And the vaccine?” Kayna blurted out.

  Reed shook his head at the ceiling. He was dealing with amateurs, messing with his usual mission mojo.

  “Working on it.” Nor grunted and moved around. He was professional enough to put aside the surprise that Kayna was there while he focused on the mission. During the mission, roll with whatever unexpected punches fly your way; ask questions that don’t relate to life-and-death later.

  “Look over there,” they heard him instruct Rena.

  “Where are you?” Reed asked, brows lowering.

  Nor heaved something heavy. “Skirting the outside.” The dot on the screen agreed as it moved around the edge of the building. Smith was pulling up the satellite overlay and closing the floor plan. “The whole building is empty. Totally cleaned out. Deserted.”

  “Security?”

  “Didn’t see any but didn’t get close. We jumped in the back of a truck at a loading dock. Full of packed boxes.”

  Transport leaving a location can hold a lot of clues. That was quick thinking. It might lead them to wherever they’re storing all the material, let them overhear conversations, or give them an address for another place to look. Or the specimen, apparently.

  “Shit,” Nor hissed. “Get down!”

  The control room was a swarm of buzzing yet as silent as could be while they waited for more information. No one dared speak until Nor did.

  A loud clang and a bang came through Nor’s earpiece.

  “Nor!” Rena’s panic made her louder than usual and her voice carried through Nor’s mic.

  “Hold on,” Nor shouted back.

  Reed didn’t want to interrupt his focus on whatever was happening.

  “What’s happening?” Val demanded.

  Nor grunted and some static came through the mic. Reed’s grip on Val’s hand tightened.

  “Truck’s moving,” Nor grunted.

  “Shit,” Reed swore, letting go of Val to pace away. His hand ran through his short buzz. He was picking upon his brother’s nervous habits.

  “I got you,” Nor promised Rena tenderly.

  “Where are you now?” Reed’s heart picked up pace as the green dot started moving faster away from the lab.

  “Same as before. The truck. They just shut the back and we’re on the move.”

  “You’re on a moving truck?” Kayna’s pitch went up.

  That didn’t matter. “Can you get out? Is there an internal latch?”

  “Yes.” He spoke to Rena. “Good. Check them.” Then he reported to the group again. “But Rena found a stash of coolers. We think the vaccine might be in there. We’re going to check before we evacuate.”

  “Stay calm. We’ve still got GPS tracking on you. We’ll tell you when it’s safe to jump.” It wasn’t a question, but Smith confirmed with a thumbs up anyway.

  “Jump?” Kayna squeaked.

  “Truck is routing west.” The techie panned ahead, following the current trajectory, the map moving too fast for Reed to follow
. “No storage facilities ahead. Not many other buildings, actually. They thin out. Oh! Post office about four miles west of you. Could be heading there?”

  “Boxes are all postmarked,” Nor agreed.

  Smith nodded to himself. “Hang tight. I don’t see any sharp turns.”

  Reed let out a breath. “You’ll be farther from your transport, but that’ll be a good time to get out.” Nor could jump safely from a moving vehicle. He wasn’t sure about Rena. It might also give them cover nearby to scramble to once the driver opened the back of the truck and began unloading. If they bailed on the road, the driver might see them in the side mirror in the middle of the road or at least notice the cargo doors flying open. “Be ready. We’ll give you two minutes’ warning.”

  “Roger,” Nor answered.

  The occupants of the room watched as the map beneath the green dot blinking in the middle of the screen shifted to the right. It was moving fast.

  “Wait a minute.” Reed stepped forward as the map suddenly twisted forty-five degrees. There were no buildings that way as far as the screen displayed.

  Smith made some frantic adjustments, zooming out and scanning northwest.

  “Reed?” Nor queried for an update.

  “Checking,” Reed assured. “Hold.” Then he directed his words to his team member. “Anything?” Where was the truck going? Another facility? A more remote lab station? He didn’t like not knowing.

  Suddenly the compound’s alarm blared.

  Reed snapped to attention. The last time it went off, people died. The last time it went off, the compound was obliterated. The last time it went off, his life was ripped apart.

  “Mute it!”

  Smith’s palm smacked his controls before Reed has finished his order. They didn’t want their wailing noises filtering through to Nor and confusing him.

  “Get them to the safe room!” he screamed at Smith, already sprinting toward the door. “Find out what’s happening.”

  He pounded down the corridor, trying to assess anything out of place or unusual using all his senses while he waited for the agent’s report to direct him the right way.

  “Training room,” Smith informed Reed over the emergency intercom in the hallway. In the background, a female—Tilly or Kayna—could be heard screeching Liam’s name. Reed swore, sprinting toward the training room.

  “I thought we locked the doors!”

  Reed nearly stumbled over his feet when Valerie shouted from behind him. “What the hell are you doing here? You need to be in the safe room!”

  She was keeping up with him, her long legs allowing her to take long strides. “You think I’m the kind to sit aside?”

  Reed knew the answer to that. He abandoned the argument, fixating on getting to the training room.

  If Liam woke up and got out, they were all at risk. If someone got in, they were at risk. Father was not going to be happy if Reed didn’t lock this problem down stat. Reed already anticipated a stern scolding for the alarm.

  He chastised himself, anticipating just what Father might say. He should have stationed someone with Liam. But he hadn’t wanted anyone too close. After their onsite medic had donned clean gear and hooked up an IV for fluids and given a fever suppressant, they’d vacated everyone and locked all doors from the outside. No one in or out unless Liam took a turn for the worse or the antidote arrived—whichever happened first—which was why he hadn’t used the medical ward; that needed to be accessible.

  Reed would have to discuss installing a holding cell with external locks somewhere on the premises with Father. They’d only ever harbored fugitives, not criminals. As Val said, they were learning from their mistakes as they went.

  How big of a mistake was this one?

  They turned the corner and… all doors appeared shut.

  “Check the women’s,” Reed instructed and dashed into the Men’s locker room. He skidded down the row of lockers, scanned the showers, and ducked to peer under the bathroom stalls. All empty. He slammed into the door leading to the training room. It held, proving that the lock remained in place.

  Reed returned to the hallway just as Val emerged from the neighboring room. She shook her head.

  They rounded the corner of the hall and found the main door also untouched. Reed kicked it to be sure—and out of frustration—and it didn’t budge.

  Reed and Val paused to blink at each other in confusion before exclaiming simultaneously, “The mirror.”

  Thankfully the external door to that room was also shut. Reed was relieved to see no one had broken the keypad—and only he and Father knew the code.

  They needed to assess what was going on in the training room. He quickly input the code, wrenching the door open.

  Recoiling, Val screamed, and Reed slammed his hands into the doorway to stop his forward lunge.

  Liam was there, sprawled on the floor, shaking and shuddering, his limbs jittering in a sort of seizure. His IV stand was prone on the floor beneath Liam’s body amongst a scattering of shards from the broken two-way mirror. A blanket was caught on a sharp piece jutting up from the window frame along the floor.

  “It’s not bulletproof?” Val cried in horror and rage.

  Another change to make to their facilities. “Fuck.”

  Reed’s name echoed through the intercom again.

  “I know, I know,” Reed shouted at the ceiling. “We’re here,” he vented aimlessly, knowing it wasn’t a two-way system.

  “I just lost Nor’s signal. We’ve got a problem,” Smith spat.

  “Fuck,” Reed doubled down.

  “I’ve got this,” Val assured. “Go!”

  Without taking a second, Reed took off. Skidding to a stop, he turned. “Val. Be–”

  “Safe. I got it.” She held up a mask she must have grabbed from the fresh pile she left in the locker room. “Get out of here. You can help me shower later. Go.”

  He gave her a fleeting smile. There was a ghost of a partnership coalescing between them.

  Then she slammed the door to keep the sickness contained, and Reed left her to face her fear of sick people. He beelined for the control room, needing to face the fear currently trying to explode his chest.

  Chapter Eight

  Reed’s expletive burst from his mouth with violence. He nearly crashed into Smith, barely stopping as he flung himself into the control room. “The fuck is that?” His finger stabbed into the screen as he turned wild eyes on his team member.

  Smith’s mouth was set in a grim line. “An explosion.”

  “I can see that,” Reed roared. “What happened?”

  Their tech guy was wearing a pair of virtual goggles, and he chewed on the nails of his left hand, his right tapping at the air rapidly. “I don’t quite know—”

  “Find out.” Reed was channeling Father in a rage. Considering the circumstances, he didn’t care. He’d deal with that mental turmoil and psychological trauma later. He had enough filling his mind right now.

  His heart was beating as hard as if he’d just gone on a long run and sprinted the last mile. The corridors didn’t span a distance farther than he usually ran each morning. It was anxiety spiking his blood pressure and ratcheting up his frustration.

  “What do you think I’m doing? If you’d let me finish my sentence, I would have said, ‘yet.’” Tensions were too high. This was why it was a bad idea to take on missions that might have an emotional investment.

  Reed about-faced and paced away. He couldn’t get emotional. That fucked up a mission more than it helped. When he was on the other side of the room, he bowed his head, pressed his palms together—shoving them with all the strength in his shoulders—and began counting quietly to himself, taking sharp breaths between each number. He’d only hit six when he snarled, “Fuck it.”

  That shit wouldn’t work for him. He expelled his agitation and stress by punching things, running, fighting, until exhaustion took the place of the more vehement emotions.

  That would have to wait. Punching Smi
th would be counter-effective, and his training room was currently occupied. He was in charge of this operation—his second without Father’s overbearing hand gripping the reins.

  Maybe Val would be up for another form of exercise. Not now. They both had situations to handle right now. He had to quash his boiling infuriation and focus, get his mind in the game.

  Reed stalked back to Smith. “Got anything?” His gaze snapped unerringly back to the screen.

  The satellite image expanded. The horrifying feed spanned the entire wall, stretching the scene across the twelve-screen grid. Seeing the depiction of destruction—orange-yellow flames, thick grey mushroom cloud, debris flinging in every direction—that massive stoked the unrest in his belly like tossing a gas can on a fire. It consumed his vision, gruesome details he hadn’t noticed before—like a tire on fire rolling away—hooking into his gut. The explosion was enormous. Based on the road leading up to it, the area impacted by the detonation was immense. It had been a powerful blast. Deadly.

  “Fuck,” he belted out again as new emotions took root, replacing the worry. It was the same curdled mixture he’d felt when he’d been barreling across campus, trying to get to Val, incandescent flames drawing him in like a moth, metal and wood and ash raining around him, slicing numbly through his skin. The same emotion he’d felt when he’d turned around and seen the crater in the Earth where Mother’s lab had been.

  Fear. Despair. Terror. A blind need to get to them. A helpless inability to do so. The frustrating shackles that prevented him from doing anything useful. He hadn’t saved them. He’d lost them.

  And now Nor…

  “Smith,” Reed growled, the fucking feelings clogging his throat, his fingers flexing because he needed to do something. He didn’t dare hope. He prayed. He begged on his knees in his soul, eyes closing, blocking out the crushing images.

  “Got it.”

  Reed’s eyelids snapped back up.

  Smith flung off the visor, standing and tapping directly on the full screen. It shifted around.

  The move blocked Reed’s view, which did nothing to quench his ire. “Smith!”

  The techie took heed of the tone and answered hastily. “I was messaging Ace. He was able to wind back the footage from the satellite we’re tapped into,” he explained, avoiding too much technical jargon for Reed’s sake. He’d been yelled at before for not putting things in English. “He’s just sent the feed, I panned through and… Well, look.” He tapped once more and stepped back.