The Anthrax Protocol

by James Thompson

  “I’ll think about it,” Janus said hanging up the phone and thinking “in a pig’s eye.” She knew Blackman was just offering her the job with him to put her at ease until he could have his hit men take her out with the rest of the Wildfire Team. She shook her head, thinking if Blackman ever came within her reach he was a dead man. Janus owed him for what he’d done to Mason Williams, a man Janus had loved for many years.

  Janus put the phone away and stared off into the jungle, wondering if Mason had felt any pain when the mercenaries had killed him. Finally, wiping tears from her eyes, she entered the Bio-Lab to continue pretending to work on a cure for the plague while she figured out a way to disappear into the jungle just before Bear and his men arrived to execute the team.

  Mexico City

  Jinx looked over at Bear in the copilot’s seat as their small airplane lifted into the air and banked over the jungle on a northward course. “Okay, where to, boss?”

  Bear stared out the window for a moment before answering. “You can drop me off in Baltimore. After that, you and the men can go anywhere in the world you’d like.”

  Jinx’s eyebrows rose. “Baltimore? Why there?”

  Bear shrugged. “I’ve got some unfinished business with Blackie.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Now that I’ve got enough money to retire and sit on a beach somewhere drinking umbrella drinks, I don’t want to have to spend my time looking over my shoulder.”

  He looked over at Jinx. “Blackie is a fool, but he’s a hard man with a lot of resources at his command, and he’s not going to take it lightly that we double-crossed him. Remember, he’s still expecting us to take out the Wildfire Team in the jungle, and I expect he’ll be a mite pissed when he discovers the samples we gave him are bogus and that we ignored his orders to kill the scientists at the lab.”

  “You think he’ll send some hard-dicks to come looking for us?”

  “I think we can count on it. After all, that’s what we’d do . . . right?”

  Jinx nodded thoughtfully. “I think you’re right.” He looked over his shoulder at the other men in the rear of the airplane. “But boss, the man lives on a fuckin’ army base. You might just need some help to get to him.”

  Bear shrugged. “I’ll admit the thought had crossed my mind.”

  Jinx grinned. “Good. Then that’s settled. We’ll all come with you and we’ll take that bastard down as our last official job together.”

  Bear showed his teeth. “I can’t think of a better way to end our association.”

  Chapter 41

  Suzanne Elliot entered the Bio-Lab and almost ran into Eduardo Matos. She stepped back and gave a low whistle. “Boy, Eduardo, lookin’ good, my man,” she said with a lascivious leer, trying to cover her grief with the casual banter she was known for.

  The short and previously very pudgy man beamed and preened. “Do you really think so, Señorita Elliot?”

  “Yeah, I do. You must have lost fifty pounds, Eduardo,” she said, thinking anthrax had been particularly good for this pig of a man. Hell, he could probably see his prick for the first time in twenty years.

  “Fifty-three,” he said proudly, patting his stomach. “There is nothing like nearly dying of a prehistoric illness to make un hombre lose weight.”

  Suzanne poked him in his now flat belly. “Now, you stay away from the enchiladas and beans and eat more healthy and I’ll bet the lovely, young, señoritas will be following you around like starving puppies.”

  Now he blushed. “I am very afraid my wife would not take kindly to such activities,” he said with feigned pomposity.

  Suzanne laughed and elbowed him with a wink, “What the little lady doesn’t know won’t hurt her, will it Eduardo?”

  He gave a hearty laugh. “No, but it very well may hurt me.”

  Shirley Cole and Joel Schumacher walked up in the narrow corridor. “Are you teasing our guest?” Shirley asked with a mock frown.

  “No, just telling him how good he looks since the illness caused him to lose so much weight,” Suzanne answered.

  “Well, don’t embarrass him too much, ’cause he’s on his way back to Mexico City today. The INAH is sending a helicopter to pick him up and take him home,” Joel said.

  “Good for you, Eduardo,” Suzanne said, holding up a fist.

  Matos glanced down at her fist, a puzzled look on his face.

  Joel took his hand, made it into a fist, and bumped Suzanne’s fist with his. “A new American custom, Eduardo,” Joel said, grinning.

  “Ah, I will have to remember that to show my children. They are always interested in anything having to do with America and your strange customs.”

  Shirley put a hand to her ear. “I do believe I hear your helicopter coming in for a landing, Eduardo.”

  She eased around them and went to the door. “It should land in the clearing about fifty yards to the north.”

  “Come on,” Suzanne said, taking his arm. “We’ll all walk you out to your ride, after all, you are our first plague cure and we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the jungle.”

  * * *

  In the descending helicopter, Mason spoke into his helmet microphone. “Let me be the first to exit the helicopter. I want to give whichever person is Janus a real surprise.”

  “That is strange,” Matos said, using his palm to shield his eyes from the ever bright tropical sun. “That is an American Navy helicopter. I thought the INAH was going to send a Mexican military helicopter for me.”

  The entire staff of the Bio-Lab had turned out to see Matos off, and they all stood there with hands up for shade looking at the chopper as it settled into the clearing in a wall of dust.

  As the rotors slowed and the dust began to settle, a man strode out of the cloud and walked rapidly toward them.

  Suzanne Elliot gave a strangled cry and fainted dead away, sinking to the ground before anyone could catch her.

  Mason Williams walked up and spread his arms to the group. “Daddy’s home, children,” he cried with a wide grin.

  Following close behind him, Lauren gave a narrow-eyed glance at Suzanne lying on the ground and then smiled up at the group. “I’m not Mommy,” she said laughing, “but I’m home, too.”

  “And me!” Guatemotzi hollered as he ran out of the dust cloud carrying their duffle bags and backpacks in his sinewy arms.

  The group didn’t know whether to hug Mason or to see to Elliot, who lay on the ground moaning, “It can’t be . . . it can’t be . . .”

  Matos knelt next to her and began to gently pat her cheeks. “Señorita Elliot . . . Señorita Elliott, are you all right?”

  “She’ll be just fine,” Mason said cavalierly, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder like a side of beef. He strode to the lab, entered, and went into the ICU cubicle and flopped her down on the bed there.

  The rest of the crew followed him, puzzled expressions on their faces.

  “What in the name of all that is holy is going on, Mason?” Sam Jakes asked, anger in his voice at the way Mason was manhandling Suzanne.

  “Yes,” Shirley asked, moving to stand beside Suzanne. “Why are you being so rough?”

  As Suzanne began to come around, Mason stepped to the head of the bed and addressed the group. “I believe Suzanne is a spy, code-named Janus, who has been working undercover for Colonel Blackman at USAMRIID to thwart our finding a cure for the plague, or to steal it for him if we found one before the army did.”

  Everyone except Lauren gasped and seemed to step back from Suzanne, as if her treachery might be contagious.

  She moaned and moved her head back and forth as she began to come to. Upon hearing Mason’s words, her eyes filled and she wiped at her tears as she stared at Mason with anguished eyes. “How did you find out?”

  “The mercenaries your boss hired to kill us and steal the specimens told me.”

  Suzanne laid her head back down on the pillow with her arm draped over her face and began to cry softly.

&nb
sp; Mason stepped to her side and searched her white clinic jacket, pulling a sat-phone from her left pocket. “Come on,” Mason said to the others, walking out of the room.

  When the room was empty except for Suzanne, he locked the door from the outside and walked to the dining room so they could tell the others the tale of their trip and all that had happened to them since they’d been gone.

  “Shirley, would you make a large pot of coffee?” he asked. “We’ve got a helluva story to tell and it’s going to take quite a while.”

  She stared at him through slitted eyes. “Would some chocolate cookies go good with that? I just happen to have a fresh batch cooling in the galley.”

  “Damn right,” he said.

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Colonel Woodrow Blackman entered his office three days later at 0630 with a cup of coffee in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other. He hadn’t slept for the past two nights waiting for word from Bear that he had taken Janus out, but he’d heard nothing.

  He did not look happy and had a deep scowl on his face as he read what was written on the top sheet of paper. “That son of a bitch is a dead man,” he muttered as he reached over and flipped on the lights.

  When he looked up from the paper, his hand jerked, spilling scalding hot coffee all over the front of his uniform.

  “Goddamn!” he exclaimed, shaking his hand and glaring with wide eyes at the group of men sitting scattered around his office.

  “What the fuck . . . ,” he started to bellow until he looked into the barrel of the ACP .45 caliber semiautomatic handgun Bear was pointing at his chest. The hole looked big enough to get lost in.

  He swallowed whatever it was he was about to say and glanced around at the other men with Bear. Evidently he didn’t like what he saw in their eyes, as his hand began to shake and sweat popped out on his forehead.

  Bear smiled. “Have a seat, Colonel.”

  Blackie eased around his desk and sat down slowly. He placed the empty coffee cup on his blotter and the sheaf of papers on his desk in front of him.

  A sickly smile appeared on his face and he slowly reached for his phone. “Hey, Bear . . . guys . . . let me order us all some coffee . . .”

  Bear wagged his head side to side and said in a low voice, “Put the phone down, Colonel. Let’s keep this meeting just between us for now.”

  “S . . . s . . . sure, Bear,” Blackie stuttered. “What can I do for you?”

  Bear’s forehead creased, and he asked, “What were you cursing about when you came in just now?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  Jinx stood up from his chair in the corner and crossed to lean over and read the sheet of paper Blackie had been holding in his hand. “Boss, this here paper Blackie was readin’ says all the DNA samples are from the same person, as were all of the blood samples.”

  He reached down and turned the paper over. “And this next one says that all of the plants rendered for examination are common variety jungle plants with no medicinal value at all, whatever the hell that means.”

  “It means you fucked me, you bastards!” Blackie exclaimed, leaning forward and slapping his palm down on his desk, trying to assert some of the authority he was used to carrying.

  Jinx put a puzzled look on his face. “Did we fuck the Colonel, boss?” he asked Bear.

  Bear grinned. “Yep. An’ we didn’t even kiss him first.”

  Blackie looked from one to the other of the men and his face paled. “Uh, just why are you here, Bear? You got your money and you screwed me, so what do you want now?”

  “Who else is in this with you, Blackie? I know you don’t have the balls or the brains to put all this together without some high-powered help.”

  Blackie shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you that, Bear. As long as you don’t know who else knows about your involvement, you can’t afford to kill me or they’ll make sure you never live to spend the money you stole from us.”

  Bear cut his eyes to Psycho who was sitting across the room. “Psycho, see if you can convince Blackie to give us the information we need.”

  Psycho was on his feet in an instant and before Blackie could move, the point of Psycho’s KA-BAR knife was almost touching his right eyeball.

  Psycho leaned in close to Blackie’s ear and whispered, “I’m not near as good with one of these as Blade was, but I bet I can figure it out, Colonel.”

  Bear smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Do you know how Psycho got his nickname, Blackie?”

  Blackie opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out but a strangled gurgle.

  “Nod your head if you don’t want to find out,” Bear added after a moment.

  Blackie glanced up into Psycho’s red-rimmed, crazy eyes and he slowly nodded his head.

  “Shit,” Psycho muttered and he slid his KA-BAR back into its scabbard and he sat back down.

  Bear raised his eyebrows and looked at Blackie. “We’re all ears, boss,” he said in a low voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Blackie sighed and leaned back in his chair, frantically trying to think of some way out of this situation. After a moment, he figured if he couldn’t bargain his way out of this, about the only thing he could hope for was a quick and relatively painless death.

  “The only other man who knows about you and your team is General Mac McGuire.”

  “The same McGuire who sent us to you?” Babe asked.

  Blackie looked at him and nodded. “One and the same.”

  “Does he know our real identities or just our nicknames?” Bear asked.

  “Hell, I don’t even know your real identities,” Blackie pleaded. “You have nothing to fear from either one of us.”

  “Pick up the phone and tell your Adjutant Lieutenant Collins that you’d like him to go over to the canteen and pick you up some breakfast,” Bear said.

  Blackie shook his head, his eyes wide. “If I do that you’ll kill me!”

  Bear sighed. “We can kill you anyway, Blackie. All it takes is for me to let Psycho loose on you with that KA-BAR and Collins wouldn’t hear a thing. I just need you to get rid of him so we can sneak out of here without being seen.”

  He grinned amiably. “After all, as you just said, we don’t have anything to fear from you or McGuire.”

  Blackie thought about it for a moment and then he picked up his phone and pushed a button.

  “Yes, sir?” Collins said.

  “Jeremy, I’m kinda hungry this mornin’. How about going over to the canteen and pickin’ us both up some breakfast? I’ll pay you for it when you get back.”

  “Yes, sir!” Collins answered and hung up the phone.

  “Give him a minute and then peek out the door and let us know when the coast is clear,” Bear ordered.

  When they heard the outer door open and shut, Blackie stood up and peeked out of his door. “Okay, he’s gone. You can leave now.”

  As he sat back down at his desk, Bear moved over and held out his hand as if to shake. “Pleasure doing business with you, Colonel.”

  Blackie scowled, but he held out his right hand, “Sorry I can’t say the same thing.”

  As they took hands, Bear came out from behind his back with his left hand and put a silencer against Blackie’s right temple and pulled the trigger.

  The automatic coughed once and the side of Blackie’s head exploded all over the opposite wall.

  Bear unscrewed the silencer and put the gun in Blackie’s limp right hand, which was hanging down at his side.

  He looked over his shoulder at Jinx. “You got the paperwork?” he asked.

  “Right here, boss,” Jinx said, and he took the forged registration papers for the pistol out of his pocket and stashed them in the colonel’s bottom desk drawer.

  Bear then took a tissue out of his pocket and wiped his left hand with the tissue and then transferred some of the gunpowder residue to Blackie’s right hand, just in case the crime scene guys thought to check for it.

  As the men started to leave, Jinx
asked, “We goin’ after McGuire next?”

  Bear grinned. “Whatta you think?”

  “Cool,” Jinx said as he moved through the empty outer office. “I ain’t never killed a general before.”

  Chapter 42

  Mason took his time telling the Wildfire Team of their adventures in the Mexican jungle, and by the time he’d finished all of the cookies and most of the coffee had been consumed.

  The team was flabbergasted and dismayed when he came to how he’d learned of the spy named Janus and how she’d conspired to undo all of the good works the team had accomplished, not to mention her complicity in the plan to have the Wildfire Team exterminated.

  Jakes shook his head, “I just can’t believe Suzanne would do that. Just think of all the people she would’ve consigned to an early grave if she’d managed to derail our finding of a cure to this deadly disease.”

  “Believe it, Sam,” Mason said. “Evidently, she is a true believer in what USAMRIID is doing and there is nothing as dangerous as a true believer.”

  “I can almost see a true ideologue conspiring for USAMRIID to have control of the cure for this plague, but to agree with its leader to kill all of us . . . her friends who have been more like family than coworkers for more than five years? That is beyond the pale,” Shirley Cole said, shaking her head in disgust.

  When no one had anything to add, Mason stood up and parceled out the specimens and plants to the various team members. “Now, I want you all to get to work and don’t spare the horsepower. The Battleship and his team back at the CDC are also working on these samples and I would like our team to be the one to come up with a reliable cure first.” He spread his arms and grinned. “After all, aren’t we the world-famous Wildfire Team?”

  Everyone laughed, got up from the table, and went to work on the samples.

  Joel Schumacher said, “I’ll get on the net and run down everything I can about all of these plants and see if anyone has already done any in-depth chemical analyses of their composition. It might just save us some time.”

  Shirley Cole took a few of the plant samples and said, “I’ll grind up a sample of each of the plants and test them against the anthrax colonies I’ve got growing in the lab. The ones that show promise in killing the bacteria will be the first to go under the electron microscope for further analysis.”