by Alex Kava
She swatted at a strand of hair and stared over Creed’s shoulder like she was searching for the rest of the story.
“When we got there this little girl answered the door and let us in. We were still thinking hostage situation. The girl was dressed in soiled clothes. Her hair was tangled. Dirty dishes were everywhere. It looked like she had been abandoned and was living on her own. But that was only partly correct. Her mother was in one of the bedrooms. Very sick. At the time we didn’t realize that she was already crashing with Ebola.”
“So you were both exposed?”
She nodded.
“And the little girl?”
“She survived. Her mother, of course, did not. Cunningham and I were immediately put in Fort Detrick’s Slammer. That’s what they call their isolation unit. Dr. Benjamin Platt took care of us.”
Creed didn’t think he flinched but she looked at him as if he had and added, “It’s not what you think. It wasn’t a case of patient falling in love with the doctor who saved her. I had to trust him with my life. I suppose there’s a bond that naturally develops. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. We became friends. And ultimately, he did save my life.”
“What about Cunningham?”
Her eyes left his, strayed back over his shoulder again to the shadows.
“He didn’t make it.”
Creed could feel the emotion in that brief sentence. Maybe it was simply survivor’s guilt. He knew that all too well, but he suspected Cunningham held meaning in her life. He didn’t ask.
“Bottom line,” she said, “I know how dangerous these samples are. It’s not just a matter of recovering them so that they don’t fall into the wrong hands. They’re still receiving a signal from the box. But if it’s not found, who knows what could happen?”
“Why not leave it to the experts to retrieve it?”
“The experts already screwed it up, didn’t they? I talked to Ross and now he says that he doesn’t even know where Logan is. I’m afraid Logan is more determined to burn and bury this mess out of existence than he is with doing the right thing.”
Creed groaned.
“What?”
“Why do I keep surrounding myself with women who always want to do the right thing?”
She smiled. Creed reached out his hand across the space between them and over Bolo’s head. Maggie hesitated for only a second or two before she took his hand and squeezed it.
He held tight as he told her, “You do realize that the same man who saved you was willing to send you down here to possibly be exposed to something equally dangerous?”
This time she didn’t look away. She didn’t respond, and she didn’t pull her hand away from his.
DAY 4
65.
Early morning
Washington, D.C.
When Colonel Hess opened the front door he scowled at Benjamin Platt.
“This had better be as urgent as is the hour.”
Hess was dressed in trousers, a collared shirt, cardigan sweater, and fine leather shoes. Even after being awoken in the middle of the night the man needed to look in control. Platt, on the other hand, had thrown on blue jeans and a sweatshirt. In his hurry, he’d forgotten socks and a jacket.
“The situation in North Carolina is more urgent than we thought,” he told the colonel.
“Have there been more landslides?”
“No. But there’s been a fire. The building they were using for a temporary morgue was destroyed.”
His bushy gray eyebrows rose. “And the bodies?”
“As far as anyone knows, they were destroyed.”
Hess nodded and Platt stared at him. He didn’t seem fazed by the news.
“Has Logan checked in?” Platt asked. “Has he told you anything about this?”
“Logan.” He made a noise as he waved his hand, indicating he’d had it with Logan.
“I sent someone down there,” Platt said, “who might now be in danger. Someone I care very deeply about. And I sent her there because you asked me to choose someone I trusted implicitly. You told me that facility might—and you emphasized might—contain Level 4 samples. You never told me about the experiments.”
“Calm down, Benjamin.”
“Look, I respect you, Abe. You’ve been a tremendous mentor to me—”
“One you repay by waking me in the middle of the night with your suspicions.”
“I just need to know what the hell’s happening down there. This isn’t about us protecting the world anymore, Abraham. We have a responsibility. This facility isn’t even a part of Fort Detrick. It’s DARPA. It’s your responsibility.”
“Exactly. You’re correct. I was wrong in asking for your help. However, I have everything under control. I have a team down—”
“Under control? Wait a minute.” And it only just occurred to Platt. “You mean under your control. Your special team isn’t just searching for the lockbox. They’re cleaning up to make sure no one ever knows about any of this.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Benjamin.”
“That fire destroyed evidence.”
This time Hess stared at him as if mention of the fire had finally struck a nerve.
“You’re not the only one, Benjamin, who has lost someone. I sent someone there, too. Someone who I once trusted many years ago. She was married to one of my dearest friends. I thought I could still trust her.” He shook his head like it didn’t matter. Then added, “We all make sacrifices.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Your friend is a bit of a rebel, isn’t she? Just like my so-called trusted friend.”
“I suppose you could call Maggie a rebel. What does that—”
“You failed to mention that. Rebels have a tendency to meddle more than help.”
“She does what she believes is the right thing.”
“The right thing? The right thing? We’re faced today with a new threat that makes the Cold War look like child’s play. That’s what no one understands. Your friend has no idea what the right thing is in this case. She can’t possibly know. I suggest you go home and get some sleep, Benjamin. You need to trust me to take care of this.”
“And what if Logan is the rebel?”
Hess stopped and stared at him as if he hadn’t given it any thought until Platt said it.
“What if Logan is destroying evidence? What if he has other intentions?”
Hess shook his head. “I’ll take care of everything. You go home. Get some sleep.”
“I’m going down there first thing in the morning.”
“There’s no need.” And now Hess had his arthritic hand on Platt’s back and was guiding him toward the door. “By morning everything will be taken care of.”
Platt couldn’t help thinking that the colonel made it sound like he already knew what was going to happen.
66.
Haywood County, North Carolina
At sunrise the sky was still clear, but Creed had checked the weather forecast and knew it would be short-lived. Maggie had argued about him coming with them up to the site where the facility was buried. She had argued harder when he told her he’d bring Grace in case the viruses could be sniffed out or the electronic ping was too faint to be registering. Perhaps Grace would be able to hear it.
She told him that she suspected they’d need to trek on foot for a good portion of the way. That he and Grace would only slow them down.
“If that happens you can leave us behind.”
She rolled her eyes at him, then she said, “I would never leave Grace behind.”
He was glad to see she had her sense of humor because the Maggie O’Dell he had witnessed throughout the night made him still concerned about her motives. He had heard the sincerity when she explained about needing to do the right thing, but he also knew
she was angry with Logan. He suspected she was even angrier with Ben. From his own experience, anger could be a destructive force.
This morning he, at least, felt clearheaded. The throbbing had eased. His chest ached but he could breathe more deeply. He examined Grace’s pads, pleased with how they looked.
Jason arrived bleary-eyed, bringing Molly with him. They settled in with Bolo.
“Maybe Bolo and me should be going with you.”
He watched Creed prepare his pack with the gear he and Grace would need. Creed was taking along a mesh carrier that he planned on using with Grace. It fit over his head and shoulder and swung down by his side. She weighed only fifteen pounds so it wasn’t any different from carrying his backpack. He had used the carrier before, placing Grace inside so she could ride against him but be comfortable and have access to enough air to still do her job.
He looked around to make sure Maggie was out of earshot when he sat down next to Jason and said, “If we’re not back by nightfall, give this to Vance.”
Jason stared at the tracking device, then asked, “You already think you’re gonna need to be rescued, don’t you?”
“Just a precaution.”
Truth was, he didn’t have a good feeling about this. What Jason didn’t know was that Creed would be tucking the companion to the GPS tracking device into Grace’s vest so at least she would be found.
He saw that Maggie was ready to go and he clapped Jason on the back.
“One other favor,” Creed told him. “Call Hannah. Tell her what’s going on. But wait until I have a head start.”
Jason smiled at the last part. “I’ll call Hannah, but you have to do one thing for me.”
Creed agreed before he realized the kid had something serious in mind. Jason left for the locker room and when he came back he was carrying the one item he wanted Creed to take along. That’s when he knew Jason also thought this trip up the mountain was a bad idea.
—
The three of them climbed into Ross’s SUV. Grace barely got settled before she started to stare at Creed. She was alerting.
How could she already be alerting?
Creed glanced around the vehicle. Maggie sat up front with Ross. He and Grace were in the back. Creed turned his body so he could get a good look at what was in the very back of the SUV. It was possible that the vehicle had carried equipment or there was residue from a previous cargo, but he couldn’t see anything suspicious. Other than Maggie and Creed’s gear in the back, there was only one other backpack. Presumably it belonged to the young guardsman.
Ross was dressed in crisp camouflage fatigues. Creed had noticed that his boots were spit-and-polish clean. Maybe his weapon was tucked away somewhere, but Creed doubted that would set Grace off. Once he caught the dog’s eyes wandering to the back of Ross’s head. Then she immediately looked to Creed again.
Ross told them that he had good news. The trip up to the facility would take less time because of the clear skies. He had a helicopter waiting for them just outside the city limits.
Grace appeared to have settled down. That actually made Creed feel better. Perhaps whatever she was alerting to had been residue in the SUV. He was relieved they wouldn’t have to trudge through the mud. Plus they could get this over with more quickly. Although helicopters reminded Creed too much of Afghanistan, Grace loved the adventure and the roller-coaster ride. Perhaps that would make her relax.
However, Creed took one look at Maggie’s face and knew she did not agree that the helicopter was good news.
67.
Ahelicopter! O’Dell’s jaw clenched and her stomach took a nosedive.
She hated flying, and doing it in a helicopter was a special hell of its own. She put on sunglasses and stared out the window. She’d been hoping to see blue sky for days.
Careful what you wish for.
She asked again about Logan, and again Ross told her his team hadn’t heard from the man since the day before. The young guardsman seemed on edge this morning, but then so was O’Dell. She hadn’t been able to relax the knot in her chest. Last night she had the nagging urge to crawl into Ryder’s cot. Even now as she thought about it, she scolded herself and repeated in her head, Careful what you wish for.
She considered talking Ross out of the helicopter. She hadn’t paid any attention to the forecast, but what if the clear skies didn’t last? Did they have another mode of transportation available to come back down the mountain?
But she stopped herself. More than anything, she wanted this over and done with. There wasn’t much time to waste. She reminded herself about Dr. Gunther. Whoever set that fire last night—whether it was Logan or someone else—had meant to destroy what was inside. She had to be next. She knew that.
She didn’t think she could wait for Kunze. She did tell her boss that they needed to find Peter Logan. It wasn’t a coincidence that he’d suddenly disappeared.
All night she kept watch, flinching and rising at any sound that seemed out of place. She didn’t think Logan would risk burning down a gymnasium and taking with it dozens of rescue workers and volunteers. But she’d seen desperate men do desperate things.
It was best that she beat him back up the mountain. She needed to recover the deadly samples before someone mad enough to kill an old woman and incinerate evidence got there. She couldn’t depend on Ben. He had called several times since they talked last night. She silenced her phone and ignored his messages.
O’Dell knew what she needed to do. She only wished she could have talked Creed into staying behind.
68.
The wreckage up there was more severe. Creed was glad he’d brought the mesh carrier for Grace. No way he was allowing her to step foot onto that mess.
To Creed it looked like the remnants of a bombed-out village in Afghanistan. Only rubble left. Stubs of trees stripped of their branches. Pieces of rooflines sticking up out of the ground. An eerie reminder that they were walking on top of the buried building. He imagined hallways still intact underneath. Maybe more bodies trapped down there.
The smell of diesel and propane was dangerously strong and he searched for greasy puddles even as he followed Ross and Maggie.
The pilot had stayed with the helicopter. So far no one else was there to meet them. And Ross didn’t look like he expected anyone else.
“It’s not much farther,” he told Maggie. He glanced back at Grace then asked, “What exactly can the dog find?”
“A number of things. But she hasn’t been trained with any of the viruses we’re looking for.”
If Creed hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Ross looked pleased with that information instead of concerned about Grace’s limitations.
Grace, however, was unsettled again. She had wiggled into the carrier willingly but then stared at him again and fidgeted. Now traveling securely at his side, she pawed at him every once in a while. When he looked down, her nose was twitching, her breathing rapid. She obviously had found a scent she was working.
Multitask dogs were exceptional, even phenomenal. But sometimes they could get confused. The smallest miscue or misunderstanding of what their owner expected could result in a false alert. Creed used different commands and a variety of harnesses and vests for each task. If he didn’t make it clear what he expected the dog to search for, there could be confusion.
But Grace didn’t get confused.
Still, a dog might smell something that they recognized as a scent they’d been trained to search for. When they smelled it—even though they hadn’t been asked to find that particular scent at that particular time—they might alert to it. The landslide had smeared the mountain with enough scent to drive a dog crazy. Was she smelling human decomposition?
Earlier Creed suspected she was alerting to something inside the SUV. Now she was alerting again, staring up at him. The only common denominator was Ross.
He eyed the gu
ardsman’s backpack. Creed watched the fit and swing of his jacket. Did guardsmen always carry weapons?
He looked down at Grace. Her nose was twitching again. She pushed her shoulders out of the carrier to get a better sniff.
“Looks like Grace is onto something,” Maggie said.
And this time when Ross glanced back Creed saw that the man didn’t look pleased.
Creed patted his jacket pocket and stopped. “I must have dropped her special collar when I was getting out of the helicopter,” he said while trying to catch Maggie’s eye.
“Collar?” Ross asked.
“Yeah, no wonder she’s so unsettled. Without it, she’s not really sure what she’s supposed to be searching for. Maggie, would you mind running back and getting it? I’m a little slow after getting banged up the last couple of days.”
But he could see she didn’t understand. She knew Creed used vests and collars to let Grace know which scent he wanted her to find. He wanted to alert Maggie that something was wrong, but more than anything, he wanted Maggie away from there.
“Sure, I can do that,” she said.
“It won’t be necessary,” Ross told her. And in seconds he had a revolver pointed at Creed’s chest. “Agent O’Dell, you’ll need to give me your service weapon.”
69.
The hole in the ground reminded O’Dell of the entrance to a storm cellar. Deep, dark, and narrow, with a wooden ladder providing the only steps down. In the beam of her flashlight she could see fragments of what used to be an office or a laboratory. Shattered glass cupboards, light fixtures swinging from wires in the ceiling, walls partially caved in.
She couldn’t believe that she had let Ross’s uniform fool her. She had been convinced that Peter Logan was the problem. It never occurred to her to suspect the men who had worked beside her to recover the bodies in the mud.
