Search & Destroy (Outbreak Task Force)

by Julie Rowe

  The guard didn’t look impressed. “Sir, either you come with us willingly or we’ll handcuff you, charge you with trespassing, then walk you off the property into the custody of the police.”

  Ouch. Carmen winced and glanced at John.

  He was watching Halverson, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his weight balanced over his feet. He looked ready to leap onto the man if he made any aggressive moves.

  Halverson’s face turned a sudden dark purplish red. If he didn’t calm down, he was going to have a heart attack.

  The phone on her desk rang.

  “Go through proper channels,” she told the other doctor. “Coming here and yelling at me isn’t going to help your situation.”

  Halverson glared at her, then spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. The two security guards followed.

  John went to the door and shut it while her phone continued to ring.

  She answered it, then focused on the lab tech’s update on the samples from the first hospital.

  She spent the next ten minutes collating lab reports so she could make her own report to the CDC director, but raised male voices came through the door to distract her. Again. Angry voices. Again.

  Carmen got up to open the door.

  Four men were standing close together, inside one another’s personal space.

  DS stood with his back to her office, his hands on his hips. She’d seen him stand that way in the past, usually right before he verbally stripped someone down to their bones.

  She had to lean around the former drill sergeant to see the other three men.

  Dozer stood in profile, his feet braced shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed over his chest. Directly in front of him was another man she recognized as Agent Rawley from Homeland Security. A few feet away was FBI Agent Ketner. She’d never met either man in person, but she had seen them attend a video conference five or six weeks ago.

  Both men made trouble for her people. Back for more of the same?

  “…nuts?” Rawley asked, his tone incredulous and volume loud enough to attract attention from other offices down the hallway. Several people had stuck their heads out to see what was going on. “You should be in bed resting, not hanging out here or whatever it is you think you’re doing.” He leaned forward a couple of inches, the move deliberate. He did not, however, lower his volume as he continued with, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call an ambulance for you right now.”

  Free entertainment. How nice. Not.

  “I,” Carmen said before John could speak, “can give you several.”

  All four men turned sharply and looked at her.

  “In my office.” She had no time for male posturing. “All of you. Now.”

  They filed past her. She shut the door and walked around the men to sit behind her desk. Since they were all standing, she would have preferred to remain on her feet, but by taking a seat, she hoped she showed them she wasn’t threatened in any way by them.

  “My apologies, Dr. Rodrigues,” Rawley said before she’d even pulled her chair up closer to her desk.

  “What are you apologizing for? Engaging in verbal conflict inside my office while I’m trying to coordinate the CDC’s response to an active outbreak? Or distracting my staff from their work?”

  Rawley clenched his jaw and speared a quick glance at Dozer, then said, “It takes two to tango.”

  She looked at Dozer, who gazed steadily back at her, then she looked at DS, who lifted one corner of his mouth in a brief sardonic smile.

  Ketner also said nothing. He stood quietly, watching everyone with an amused expression.

  “Did you participate in the verbal conflict, Drill Sergeant?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “What did you observe?”

  “Agent Rawley came through the door, saw Dozer, and became extremely agitated.”

  “He isn’t supposed to be here,” Rawley said, his teeth clenched tight again.

  “Did John Dozer participate in the conflict?”

  “He didn’t get a chance to say much.” DS turned his disapproving gaze on Rawley. “Agent Rawley seemed to take exception to Dozer just being alive and in the building.”

  She glanced at Dozer. “What did you say to him?”

  “I tried to tell him I’m not back to work yet, but I’m not sure how much he actually heard.”

  “You’re here, in this office,” Rawley said, frustration making every word out of his mouth a punch.

  That brought up an interesting question.

  “Why are you in my office, Agent Rawley?” she asked him. She looked at Ketner as well. “And why is there an FBI agent following you around?”

  Surprise loosened Rawley’s jaw. “I’ve been assigned as your new liaison with Homeland Security while Agent Dozer is on medical leave. You were notified through regular channels.”

  “Unfortunately, I’ve been out of my office for the past two weeks. I landed about eighteen hours ago, and things have been somewhat chaotic.” Memories of making love with John crowded her head, and she had to clear her throat. “There’s an emerging outbreak in Florida we’re dealing with. That’s beside the point, however, since John Dozer isn’t here in his capacity as a Homeland Security agent. Consider his presence here as a sort of protective custody.”

  “He’s protecting you?” With John’s current list of injuries, she could understand Rawley’s disbelief.

  “The other way around, actually.” She smiled at him. “You are aware an attempt on his life was made yesterday at the VA hospital where he was recovering?”

  Rawley rocked back on his feet. “No.” He turned and looked at John. “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday, a man entered my room armed with a handgun. Another man threw a smoke bomb into the room. Had I been alone…” He let the sentence fall away.

  Ketner cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. “That’s why I’m here. I’d like to interview Agent Dozer and anyone who was with him at the time of the attack.”

  “How did you know about it?” Rawley asked with a surprised expression.

  One corner of his mouth slanted upward. “It came through on normal channels.”

  “I was there,” Carmen said. “As was DS, but we don’t have time for interviews right now.”

  “Sure, I can wait. Long enough for whoever tried to grab or assassinate agent Dozer to try again.” Ketner made a show of glancing around. “How many people work here? It would be a shame if there was more collateral damage this time.”

  Oh, you ass.

  The three other men stared at the FBI agent like he’d tossed the pin of a live grenade and had dropped it at their feet.

  “You get ten minutes of my time, as soon as I’m done with these gentlemen.” She turned and met Rawley’s gaze. “Your chain of command agreed to let me hide Agent Dozer for the moment.”

  “Then why is he—?”

  She gestured at her office with one hand. “This is a safe place, wouldn’t you say?”

  Rawley gave the office a quick once-over and paused for a moment at the couch along the far wall. It had a pillow and a quilt. “Ah,” he said. “I see.”

  “Rest assured that as soon as I have a few minutes, I’ll acknowledge your change in status in regards to the CDC. I’ll contact you with any pertinent information, concerns, or needs. As you can see, I’m quite busy at the moment.” She gestured toward the door. “Please, show yourself out.”

  He blinked. “Oh, huh, of course.” He hesitated, then gathered himself, nodded briefly at John and DS, a little longer at Ketner, and left the room.

  She didn’t have time to deal with this. Throughout the conversation, her phone had been pinging.

  “DS,” she said. “Could you contact Homeland and talk to that gentleman’s boss? Confirm his assignment here and find out why he wasn’t brought up to speed? I don’t mind Homeland assigning us a new liaison—we can use all the hands we can get—but if they can’t get a hold of me, they should
be at least notifying you.”

  “They don’t want to talk to anyone but the person in charge.”

  “If I’m not here, you’re in charge of these kinds of personnel changes.”

  DS laughed. “I’ll convey that message.” He pulled out his phone, then left, leaving the office door open.

  She looked at Dozer. He hadn’t said a thing beyond answering her question. That wasn’t like him. “You’re quiet.”

  One of his eyebrows rose. “I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

  Except when talking to her. She managed to keep that thought to herself. Barely. “Will Rawley tell people you’re here?”

  “I think he’ll check out what you told him. Beyond that, I doubt it. Someone tried to kidnap or kill me yesterday. We might not like each other personally, but we both work for the same side.”

  “The FBI director is pissed,” Ketner said. “One guy with a gun, and a second with a smoke bomb, right?” He didn’t wait for a response, just moved on to his next question. “Did you get a good look at either man?”

  Her phone beeped again, reminding her there were messages waiting and phone calls to return.

  “I’m sorry, I have a great deal to do right now. Can we continue this at another time?”

  “Of course.” Ketner turned to John and asked, “How about you? Available to answer a few questions?”

  “Yeah, sure,” John said with a shrug. He glanced at her. “After that, I’m going to get us some coffee and something to eat. Then I’m going to park my butt in this chair for a while.” He pointed at one that he’d moved into a corner at the foot of the couch. He’d also moved the small table she kept for more casual conversations over so he could use it as a desk.

  “If you have a job you’d like done, maybe watching social media for any hints of the outbreak, I wouldn’t mind. I know I’m here to stay out of sight of whoever doesn’t like me this week, but I’d like to be useful.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Funny how accommodating you can be when you get what you want.”

  He shrugged. “Yup, hilarious.”

  Chapter Ten

  6:58 a.m.

  Dozer waited, keeping his body and face relaxed. He wanted to show Carmen he was in control, unflustered, and willing to do whatever she needed, even if it was nothing.

  It would kill him slowly to do nothing, but if he wanted to stay here, in her office, watch over her, he was going to have to play very, very nice. Thank fuck she’d gotten rid of Rawley as quickly as she did. The guy had him hanging on to his temper by the thinnest of threads.

  Ketner showing up with Rawley was interesting.

  Carmen sighed. “Coffee and food sounds good. So does someone keeping watch on social and news media. Go give Agent Ketner your report first.”

  He gave her a little bow. “I’ll be back with sustenance, o fearless leader.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her phone.

  Dozer gestured at Ketner to precede him, and they left, heading for the floor’s break room. A couple of people waved at him, but he didn’t slow down to chat.

  No one else was in the room, but Ketner closed the door after himself anyway.

  Dozer took a seat, and Ketner grabbed one across from him. Dozer smiled and waited for the other man to ask him a question.

  Ketner examined him with a silent thoroughness that probably made a lot of people uncomfortable.

  It just made the man more interesting.

  “Was it the FAFO?” Ketner asked after a couple of minutes.

  Dozer had to admire the man’s questioning technique. Squeeze them with silence, then ask the most direct question possible. It was unnerving. Not for him, but still.

  “My top suspects,” he answered. “My work with the CDC hasn’t put me in anyone else’s crosshairs.”

  “Before that?”

  “No, nothing there, either. After I got out of the military, I spent most of my time as a trainer for Homeland agents and acting as a liaison between Homeland and any active military operations in certain parts of the world.”

  “Which parts?”

  “Can’t say.” He frowned. “You know that.”

  Ketner tilted his head to one side, his expression blank. “I had to ask.”

  How long had the man practiced in front of a mirror to keep his face so empty? “Did you?”

  “Yeah, the powers that be want to be sure your noggin wasn’t compromised by your concussion.” He tapped his temple with one finger.

  Sonofabitch. Dozer tightened his muscles and tied them into knots to keep from acting on the anger that flashed through him. Questioning the state of his mental faculties was an interrogation tactic. That’s all. He had to admit, the guy was very good at getting information out of people. Especially the stuff the questionee didn’t want to share. So he changed the subject. “Do you think it was the FAFO?”

  “No one has claimed responsibility,” Ketner said without a pause. “But…yes, I think it was them. After what happened with the New Orleans investigation, I think they want to get rid of you.”

  “Any specific reason, or am I just that irritating?”

  Ketner almost smiled. “You’ve gotten in their way a number of times, and you’re part of the team here.” He gestured to the room at large. “Demoralization is a powerful weapon in every terrorist’s arsenal.”

  “So what’s the FBI’s plan?”

  “We’re watching, and we’re waiting for them to screw up. We’re going to get these people.” He leaned forward slightly. “It’s been a few hours since you were attacked. Can you remember anything new about your attacker?”

  Dozer let himself sink into the memory of the fight. It played inside his head like a movie, and he tried to slow it down to see all the details. “Young, Midwestern accent, short hair, but not military short, and had some martial arts training, karate or tae kwon do or something like it.” He examined the fight in his mind. “I don’t think he’d ever been in a real fight before.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He hesitated to throw the first punch.”

  Ketner nodded. “That fits with the FAFO.”

  “The fuckers like recruiting kids barely old enough to vote.” Dozer would like to have a private chat with the assholes doing the recruiting.

  “We’re focusing on colleges and universities but haven’t found more than the standard anti-government crap. But checking with dojos and martial arts clubs is a new place to look.” He got to his feet and looked around. “This isn’t a good idea. You should be resting.”

  “Just when I was starting to think you were an okay guy, you had to go and ruin it,” Dozer said in a drawl.

  “You’re not healthy.” Ketner’s voice hardened. “You’re not going to do anyone any good if you collapse because you overdid it.”

  “I’m not doing anything.” God, he was getting tired of repeating himself. “The most strenuous thing on my agenda today is getting Dr. Rodrigues a cup of coffee.”

  “Whatever. Your funeral.” Ketner shook his head. “I’ll let you know if anything comes of the martial-arts angle.” He left.

  Dozer scowled, his stomach sore. He just wasn’t sure if it was because of the tussle yesterday or the fucking ulcer all the nagging was giving him.

  Maybe he just needed to put something in his belly.

  The coffeepot was half full and hot. He poured two cups, fixed Carmen’s the way she liked, left his black, then looked in the fridge for anything edible. Aside from some juice boxes, it was empty.

  Someone came into the room.

  “Dozer?” Joy Ashiro stood in the doorway with a container of something that looked like muffins.

  “I’m a figment of your imagination,” he said, but he stared at the food container.

  She glanced down. “A hungry figment?”

  “Yeah. Carmen and I didn’t have any time to eat since she got the call about Orlando.”

  Joy nodded briskly. “You carry the coffee. I’
ll bring the muffins.”

  Dozer passed her as he left. “Gunner okay?”

  “He’s fine. Worried about you, though.”

  Dozer laughed. “We keep asking about each other. People are going to think we’re in a bro-mance.”

  Carmen was on the phone with her back to the door as he and Joy entered her office.

  It wasn’t until he put her coffee on her desk that she spun around and stared at him blankly. Long enough for Joy to freeze in place.

  “Yes, thank you for your call,” Carmen said, still staring at him. The blank look fell away, leaving fear and resignation behind. This was not good news. “I recommend quarantining your patients until we know what we’ve got. Send your samples as soon as possible. I’ll keep you informed regarding the other cases in the area.” She ended the call.

  “How many?” he asked.

  “Two children from the same family arrived four hours ago with high fevers and an atypical rash at a hospital in Titusville near the Kennedy Space Center.”

  Joy put the container on the desk and opened it. She handed a muffin to Carmen and one to Dozer. “Eat. Both of you.”

  “How many cases does that make now?” he asked, then took a bite out of his muffin.

  “Suspected, seventeen. Confirmed, none.”

  “Yet.”

  Carmen saluted him with her muffin. “Yet.”

  Joy put the lid back on her container and lifted it. “I’m taking the rest of these to the coffee room. Help yourself to another anytime.”

  “Thank you,” Carmen said to her.

  Joy left, closing the door behind her.

  Carmen took a long drink from her coffee.

  “What are the chances this isn’t measles?” he asked.

  Her reply was immediate. “Not very damned many. Until we get the lab results, we operate as if it were confirmed.” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “I have to deliver that good news to the hospitals in Orlando.”

  He wanted to massage her shoulders and neck, give her a moment or two to relax so she could think.

  Never going to happen here.

  She had coffee, food, and him in the room. That would have to do.