by C. R. Daems
“I understand you had a session with Gregory. How did that go?” He looked amused.
“Excellent,” I said, feeling as amused as Craig looked. His mouth dropped open.
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m very serious. He’s going to be my shining example on why we need a c-agent update class on the Coaca Virus. Oh, that’s our secret, Craig.”
He nodded. “Good choice. Gregory thinks he’s the brightest bulb in the building, which is unfortunate. He’s locked himself in at his current level since he won’t learn.”
“No, Craig. He’s dangerous. If he can’t get over that attitude, I’ll recommend to the senior agents he be fired,” I said.
Craig studied me for a long time before speaking. “Admiral Lulltrel was right. You’re no pushover.”
I stayed for an hour watching the new-hires being subtly pushed toward their limits to eliminate those who were in love with the idea but not willing to do the hard physical and mental work to achieve that goal—to go on when your body is screaming to stop, to focus when you are tired and chaos surrounds you. I would have liked to stay longer but I needed to change for tonight’s dinner.
I boarded the Committee shuttle a half hour later with Maxine and my four security guards. Maxine was like a sponge, soaking up everything I said and did. Why not just call the general?” she asked. I assumed she already knew but wanted to confirm she had it right.
“Electronic messages can be intercepted, so I’m trying to minimize knowledge of my whereabouts and intentions, and to limit the amount of information the UnCab has about our activities by getting our information before they do and by delaying the information they have about what we are doing.”
The shuttle pilot set down on the landing pad on our property and the six of us left the shuttle. Halfway to the house, a speeding ground vehicle left the roadway fifty meters in front of our house and headed straight toward our group. I was in the lead with Maxine only a step behind and to the right of me. I stopped and drew my Sig Sauer as Maxine stepped up beside me with her weapon out and pointing toward the fast approaching sedan.
“Maxine, jump right when I shout Now. I’m going left,” I said as Maxine began firing at the windshield, which appeared bulletproof. I held my fire waiting for… I wasn’t sure, but five c-agents were firing at the car and it didn’t appear to be having any effect. I concentrated on the car as it closed the gap…10…8…6…4… “Now,” I shouted, knowing it would take her several seconds for my shout to be heard and register in her mind before she could move. I also waited those critical extra seconds so our jumps would be simultaneous. The timing was critical. It had to appear we were committed and couldn’t avoid being hit by the car, while ensuring the driver was unable to respond to our jumps before the car was well past. I also hoped us both jumping in a different direction would cause a second or two indecision.
I dove left, tucked my head, landed on my shoulders, and rolled to a kneeling position. The passenger window was rolled partly down and a man’s head and shoulders were visible, along with an assault rifle. His weapon began spewing bullets that gouged a meter-wide trench well to my left but began to track toward me as the driver spun the car right to make another pass. I waited, estimating the rate the car was moving and knowing I wasn’t going to have more than a few seconds before the shooter adjusted his aim and the car headed toward me. I fired five shots, hoping to hit the shooter and maybe the driver or someone in the rear while the window was down.
One of my security or I hit someone as the car didn’t straighten out but continued turning right in a circle before stopping. C-agents were running toward the car, although it was armored and there was no longer an open window to shoot into. The driver’s side door suddenly opened and a body was dumped out. The door slammed shut, and the car began to move again. I couldn’t make it to the shuttle or to my house before the car caught me so I headed toward the road. I ran, not looking for fear of tripping and knowing it would slow me down. Actually, I didn’t need to. I could hear the sound of the motor getting closer as the car closed the distance. The clearance between the car’s undercarriage and the ground was probably less than the height of my body or head but… I ran harder, gasping for breath and heart pounding against my rib cage. The road was now only several meters away as was the car. In desperation, I dove face down, arms stretched out in front of me, into a shallow depression made by road drainage from rains over the years. Seconds later the car scraped over me. But as the back wheels passed, something snagged my jacket, ripping it off me and spinning me around as the rear bumper passed. Tires screeched on the road as the vehicle skidded to a stop.
I rolled onto my stomach and tried to focus on the vehicle but my vision was blurred with mud and my mind whirled from pain, fatigue, and shock. Then I heard windows opening and tires screeching and knew the car was backing up for another pass.
“Sorry, Alexa,” I muttered and closed my eyes, just as the car exploded. Seconds later, Maxine slid next to me.
“She’s alive!” she shouted as her finger touched my neck for a pulse. “Call Mercy Hospital and tell Doctor Renata we’re bringing Anna Paulus, then let her mother, Judge Alexa Bellona, know, and then let General Guzman know what happened.”
* * *
I woke remembering the killer’s car racing toward me in reverse. My hands frantically swept around me looking for my weapon, and I screamed as pain shot through my arm. Thinking I had been shot, I attempted to roll over and found myself locked in someone’s arms.
“Relax, Anna, you’re safe. They took you to Mercy Hospital.” It was a woman’s voice, sounding familiar, but I couldn’t place who.
Looking around, I saw Maxine and two c-agents just outside the door. I must have passed out since I didn’t remember the trip to the hospital, or being redressed in a hospital gown, or being attached to an IV. “How bad?” I asked, thinking I had gotten off pretty easy and couldn’t imagine why I was in the hospital.
“Individually your wounds are minor, but collectively they are more serious. The armored car’s rear wheels drove over your legs, which would have broken them if you weren’t in a depression and it was muddy and the ground soft. But you have some muscle damage. The undercarriage of the car snagged on your jacket and twisted you over. Fortunately, whatever it was that snagged you was at the rear of the car so you only sustained some muscle strain in your back and a black and blue arm where it smacked into the bumper when you spun over. A concussion, and a flesh wound from a bullet.” Renata’s voice was cool and clinical. “Other than that, you’re in tip-top condition. Oh, Red is fine.”
“Thank you, Doctor Renata,” I said, not sure what I would have done without her. She had been treating me since I was four years old and was the only doctor who truly understood Red and me. Without her, I would be dead, or at the very least in a mental or government institution under observation. As a qualified psychologist she had been the one to treat me after many of my clashes with death. Too many doctors would have had the krait removed, with a high probability Red would have been lost in the system until too late to stop me from dying of the Coaca Virus. And she was probably the only doctor who would certify me sane at my mandatory psych evaluations. “I’m going to have to retire when you do.”
“True, Anna.” Renata smiled and turned to reveal Doctor Pierce standing just behind her. “Doctor Pierce has decided this was a good opportunity to learn about his new director.”
“Thank you, Doctor Pierce. Most doctors would prefer not to treat me and Red,” I said, impressed with Pierce’s willingness to make the effort. If nothing else, to learn what to do and not to do.
“In an emergency, I think I could treat your normal injuries now that I better understand Red’s contribution and his relationship to you,” he said. “I was amazed at how docile Red was when Renata removed him to examine your wounds and surprised to learn the Coaca Virus begins to grow as quickly as two days. Of course, I’d want Doctor Renata there as quickly as she
could.”
“How’s my security team?” I asked, concerned for their well-being.
“They are all fine. Two were wounded, one seriously, but both are doing well and will make a full recovery,” Maxine said. “The ones in the car were focused exclusively on killing you. We were just in the way.”
I let out my breath in a sigh of relief. Enough good people had died protecting me over the years. Alexa entered just then, smiling.
“It’s nice to see you awake, Daughter,” Alexa said and proceeded to hug me to shocked gasps.
“That’s not recommended for anyone except Alexa and maybe Commander Sinclair, who is like a sister to Anna,” Renata said just as General Guzman walked in.
“Anna, I thought I’d come and see you since you didn’t come to see me,” he said, a concerned look on his square craggy face.
“Thank you, General Guzman. The people I’m chasing don’t appear to like me. I’ve identified several of their assassins and was wondering if you could have your people quietly detain them for me. Maybe a surprise passport check from which they disappear,” I said. “My intent at this point is to delay their handlers from knowing they failed to carry out their assigned kills. Of course, they will also stand trial for murder.”
“No wonder they don’t like you. You’re good and sneaky. Where and when?”
“Maxine will give you the individuals’ aliases and passenger ships names they are traveling on, and their destination,” I said as Maxine approached the general and gave him a flash drive. He sat near the bed while I gave him a blow-by-blow account of my recent encounter.
“When Susan gets a semester break, we would like you to have dinner with us. She wants to see you, and I’d like you to meet my wife. She has been wanting to thank you personally.” He laughed. “For settling me down while Susan was…missing. And I’ll personally guarantee your security. I’ll have the entire base on alert.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
UnCab: So Close Yet So Far
“Damn it, Maria, that bitch woman is not only still alive, but I just discovered she has arrested four of your kill-team members. Not to mention stopping them completing their kills,” Harold shouted, his face red with rage. If you can’t hire competent people, then you need to kill miss pain-in-our-ass yourself.”
Maria’s expression didn’t change. “You’re right, Harold. But not about the people I hired. They are some of the best in the business. She’s dangerous and needs killing and I may have to do it myself. I’ve avoided that option up to now because of my link with you and the others. I have one other option I’ll try first. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll get personally involved.” Maria gave a curt nod.
“How were the assassins discovered?” Ryan asked, his eyes darting from one person to another.
“My connections tell me the marines at Black Water and New Zheng conducted a surprise passport inspection ordered by General Guzman and removed the two passengers that turned out to be the assassins Maria sent to kill our selected delegate,” Steve said. “It’s obvious Paulus somehow deduced the names of Maria’s two kill-teams and the names they were using. When they went out this time, she was waiting for them.”
“It’s fucking worse than that. It’s obvious she knows what we are doing. She had to have suspected the four delegates’ accidents weren’t accidents, then somehow determined the identity or at a minimum the false identities of the assassins, and from that the systems we needed to target. Then the bitch waited until they arrived at Shadows Rest and New Zheng so it’s now too late to send someone else. The delegates are now on their way back to Eastar for the new session,” Harold said. His anger was gone, replaced by a look of concern.
“Can those four assassins be linked back to you, Maria?” Ryan asked. He looked on the verge of panic.
“If they talked, they could. But those aren’t the kind of people who talk. The UAS doesn’t authorize the use of torture on prisoners, and besides, they know the consequences of talking,” Maria said.
“We have to kill Paulus before the delegates take their next break. She knows too much,” Ryan said to unanimous nods of agreement. “With her P1A authority she could create havoc, and she’s demonstrated she’s capable of doing just that.”
“Maria, I think it’s time you got directly involved,” Harold said, giving Maria a glare colder than space. She gave him a barely noticeable nod in return.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Time to Plan
“Are you sure you are ready for work, Daughter?” Alexa asked as we sat relaxing in the living room. I had decided I was ready to leave the hospital and had returned home with extra security at Colonel Ballard’s insistence, which I didn’t argue with. Alexa had Carla, our personal cook, prepare a special dinner for me and afterward we retired to the living room.
“I’ll try to leave work early—”
Alexa laughed. “Translation. You haven’t recovered yet but you feel you can’t take the time off.”
“I’m sore and tired, to be truthful, but the UnCab and I are at a crucial point in our contest. One more kill and they will be in control if only a tenuous hold. Currently, I have a three-month reprieve,” I said.
“As an ex-captain of a cruiser in war time, I can understand that. But at least get to bed early and see if there is someplace at work you can rest for an hour or two,” Alexa said. “Everyone will understand. They know you were just released from the hospital.”
* * *
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Martha asked as she, Seth, and Maxine entered my office for our morning meeting.
“You must have been talking with my mother,” I said as I sat. Of course, she was right but I had little choice. A few days could mean the difference between them winning or losing. “Martha, ask Ballard to join us.” I gratefully accepted my coffee from Maxine and took a couple of sips as I waited. “Maxine, maybe you can find me a comfortable couch for my office. I may try to get an hour or two rest if time permits. Then I can keep Martha and my mother happy.”
* * *
“Good morning, c-agents,” Seth began as I entered the training area with Maxine and my security. “You all know by now, several weeks ago we had an incident where three men with the Coaca Virus entered the lobby. If it hadn’t been for Director Paulus, it could have been a disaster as none of us knew how to recognize the Coaca Virus or what to do if we encountered it. We decided every c-agent should know how to recognize an individual with the virus and what to do and not do.” Seth turned to me. “Director Paulus, they are all yours.”
“Good morning,” I said and received a chorus of similar greetings. “Eastar periodically gets an outbreak of the Coaca Virus, usually every several years. Sometimes it’s relatively small and easy to contain but once in a while it gets out of control and becomes fairly widespread. There are two problems with the virus. The primary problem is that less than two percent of those who contract the virus live. The second problem is that it’s very contagious.” I paused and took out Red from my jacket and he wrapped around my neck. “I have the virus but was very fortunate to have been adopted by a red-headed krait when I was four years old. It turns out that their poison can keep the virus under control. It’s not a cure. And although there are several institutions researching the poison from red-headed kraits, to date no one has been able to reproduce it. As the old saying goes, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and the reason for this class.” I stopped and looked at the group until I identified Gregory.
“C-agent Gregory, good morning,” I said. “I asked Senior C-agent Harris to make sure he would be in this class because of the discussion we had last week. I thought it particularly interesting and insightful, so I hope he doesn’t mind repeating it?”
Gregory shook his head and after a moment a slight smile appeared for a brief second.
“C-agent Gregory, do you know what the Coaca Virus is?” I asked, having gone over our previous conversation in my mind several times.
“Sure
, it’s a deadly virus. You have the disease but that krait of yours keeps the disease from killing you,” he said, changing the word it and substituting disease.
“Could you recognize someone with the virus?”
“Sure, he’d look sick,” he said, enjoying this reenactment. I couldn’t understand how trying to make the head of your organization look bad could possibly be a good thing.
“What would you do if a sick-looking man approached someone you were guarding?’
“Shoot him,” he said. “To incapacitate him.”
“Then what?”
“Check to make sure he was no longer a threat, see if he had identification, call the police, and wait for them to arrive and take him away.” He smiled. Again, he had changed his version. Originally, he had shot to kill, not wound, but ironically, wounding was worse than killing someone with the Coaca Virus.
“Thank you, C-agent Gregory. Unfortunately, I’m afraid too many individuals would think and therefore react in a similar manner if they encountered a person with the Coaca Virus, or worse, not recognize the individual had the virus and let him wander the building.” I took out my tablet. “First how do you recognize the virus, or more specifically, the virus when it’s contagious, because like the flu, the first few days there are no symptoms. And at that stage, the person isn’t contagious. The first symptom is blisters,” I said, and clicked on my tablet, which I had programmed to send my sample pictures to the conference room monitors. I then began clicking through the series. “This is phase one and you can see small blisters beginning to form on the face. In phase two the blisters are more pronounced and beginning to turn a light brown. In phase three, they are distinctly brown and large. Typically, in phase four they burst and many will be open and leaking puss and blood. Patients are seldom mobile in phase five and have open sores covering their entire body.”
I turned off the monitors. “My concern is that each of you should know what to do if you encounter someone with the virus. That will be a person showing blisters in any of the four phases of the virus. Agency Gregory would have shot such an individual if he had recognized him as having the virus, which I seriously doubt based on his description. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn’t kill all the sick people he encountered and would shoot only the ones with the virus. In those cases, the bullet will create an entry hole and in many cases an exit hole that will disperse infected material over a wide area—as far as the bullet travels. Anyone who comes in contact with that material for weeks will become infected. Agent Gregory will also have contracted the virus because he came in contact with the victim while restraining him. Then calling the police puts the police at risk of infection and any area the police takes the wounded man—police cars, hospital waiting room, examination room, et cetera, and the people who are in or later enter those rooms. That simple action could result in spreading the virus to hundreds of people.”
