Fatal Deception

by April Hunt

  It was standing room only at the Beaver Ridge Community Center. Education and information would be everyone’s friend and hopefully stave off panic-induced reactions—or moments of violence. Just in case, Roman, Jaz, King, and Ryder were all present, the last two hovering in the rear of the room.

  Jaz stayed relatively close to Tony, which left Roman as Isa’s living shadow.

  His face a blank mask, it was hard to guess what he was thinking as he scanned the crowd.

  “Do you think you could stop glaring like you expect one of them to pull a gun out on you or something?” Isa mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear. “The point of this town hall is to put people at ease. Everything about you right now screams ‘Make my day.’”

  “Better to be standoffish and alive than at ease and dead.”

  Isa shot him a glare. “You’re not making this any better.”

  This time, Roman gave her his full attention. He stepped close. Only inches separated them as his gaze lasered into hers. “My job right now is to make this safe…for you, for them, for everyone. If that means I have to employ a few intimidation tactics to keep people in line, then that’s what I’ll do. While Tony is up there talking, I want you to unobtrusively scan the room.”

  “Scan the room? Why?”

  “In case our assholes decided to get their kicks by coming out and watching the panic they’ve caused firsthand.”

  A sick feeling settled in Isa’s stomach, and she couldn’t help but shoot a quick glance at the growing crowd. “I wouldn’t be able to identify any of them in a lineup. Not unless I got uncomfortably close, stared into their eyes, and had them talk. And only then, maybe.”

  “Don’t tempt me to try it, Doc, because I will.”

  Mayor Rutledge took the podium and called for everyone’s attention. Amazingly enough, the rumbles of conversations died down.

  “I thank everyone for being here,” Rutledge said to the room. “I know you all have questions and concerns, and I promise you we’ll give you the answers you need. Doctors Isabel Santiago and Tony Winter assure me we’re not leaving here tonight until every single one of them is answered. I do request that you be respectful and allow them to speak with as few interruptions as possible.”

  Tony nodded at the mayor and took his place. The first order of business was to make sure everyone handed over their beef products, and Tony was able to affirm that finding the source of the outbreak was the biggest hurdle. It didn’t seem to appease the majority in the room.

  Dozens of people called out medical questions about the virus itself, and Tony glanced to Isa in a silent plea for assistance. She took his place at the podium and fought to keep her voice calm in the rising tension.

  “I’ve already met some of you, and for those I haven’t, I’m Isabel Santiago, and I’m a virologist who has experience with FC-5…which is the virus responsible for making your neighbors ill.”

  “Is it like the flu?” someone called out.

  “Or that other thing? The one people get on cruise ships?” someone else shouted.

  “No. FC-5 is nothing like influenza, or any other virus that’s ever shown up here in the United States.” Isa’s voice wavered, forcing her to take a deep breath. “At no point during this meeting will I, or Tony, ever lie to you. Knowledge—and cooperation—are the only ways we’re beating this thing.”

  “We were told to turn over our meat and fresh produce,” a man standing in the back interjected. “Why?”

  “Because we believe the instigating source came in the form of your fresh beef product.”

  People roared, some standing, while others whispered to their neighbors in panic. Isa came out from behind the podium, her hands raised in an attempt to calm them down. From the corner of her eye, she could see Roman shifting, his hand moving toward his hip—and his gun.

  She shook her head at him and addressed the people. “I want to stress that not all beef product was tainted! But, in an abundance of caution, we want everyone to turn over whatever grocery items you have that did not come to you in a sealed canister or tin can. We know how FC-5 got here, so now it’s up to us to contain it.”

  “And how do we do that?” someone bellowed.

  “Are we even safe being here?” another shouted. “I mean, how the hell did it get into our food in the first place?”

  Question after question fired from around the room as fear grabbed hold. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control, and in the left back corner, Ryder jumped in between two men who looked seconds from coming to blows.

  A loud whistle ripped through the room.

  Roman stepped forward, his stern glare in full force and aimed out at the crowd. “You all don’t know anything about FC-5.” He pointed to Isa. “And this woman knows everything. If you have questions, then pipe down and wait for her to give you the damn answers.”

  Amazingly, the people quieted. When the last whisper echoed, Roman turned to Isa with a slight nod. “Doc. Continue.”

  “To answer those first questions…FC-5 isn’t transmitted like the flu. You can’t get it by a cough, or a sneeze, or simply giving your child a hug at night. The virus remains in body fluid—blood, urine, feces, sperm. For us, this is a good thing. This is a controllable thing.”

  “People have been careful when we thought it was a flu outbreak,” an older woman, somewhere in her mid-seventies, said. “And then when your doctor friend got here, he made all these changes, shut down the school and turned it into a hospital, and yet people are still getting sick. Why?”

  Unwilling to keep a barrier between her and the people they were there trying to help, Isa stepped off the raised platform. “Because unfortunately, an infected person can be contagious without showing any outward physical signs.”

  “So people in this room may have this FC thing and not even know it?”

  “Truthfully? Yes. But”—Isa raised her hands when voices started to rise—“I need you to remember there is no risk to you from casual contact. We’re passing out flyers right now that highlight everything you need to know about FC-5 and how we’re dealing with it, including what to do if you feel you or someone in your household has exhibited symptoms.”

  “How do you cure it?” an older man from the front corner row asked.

  Isa reminded herself she promised them she wouldn’t lie. “There isn’t a cure as of right now, but it’s something myself and my lab have been in search of for the last few years. Like other viruses, our best course of action is to treat the symptoms. Hydration. Fever reduction. In some rare cases, blood transfusions.”

  “And how can we handle something like that? We don’t have the medical personnel here in town for that.”

  Tony interjected, “Fair question, and you’re right. Beaver Ridge isn’t equipped to handle an outbreak like this, but the Global Health Organization is, and I’ve already been in touch with them. They’re mobilizing a team as we speak. Soon, the town will have all the resources—people and medicine—that we need.”

  “You didn’t answer the other question, Dr. Santiago,” one of the first hecklers interjected. “How and why did this virus end up with our meat products?”

  “We believe it was put there on purpose,” Isa stated truthfully. “We think Beaver Ridge’s seclusion, and the fact that it relies heavily on outside resources, made it the perfect target for people who stole the FC-5 virus from my lab.”

  A hum went through the crowd as they talked among themselves.

  Roman came up next to her and whistled, gaining their attention once again. “This brings up another matter that everyone here needs to be aware of and that involves the people responsible for this outbreak. We have every reason to believe that they’re going to want to stick close by so that they can view the fruit of their handiwork. You’re a close-knit community. You know each other. Isabel, Tony, and my team need your help in identifying anyone who may not belong…but I cannot stress this enough…you do not act. You do not play hero or interve
ne in any way. These men didn’t hesitate in poisoning your town. They won’t hesitate to do more if given the chance. If you see something out of the norm, you contact that number on the flyer Dr. Santiago mentioned. And then you keep yourself and your family safe.”

  The more information the people of Beaver Ridge were given, the calmer the crowd became. Isa didn’t know if it was increased knowledge or from shock, but by the time they opened up the floor to questions, she and Tony had no problems answering them.

  After two hours, Isa was physically, emotionally, and mentally drained.

  “Dr. Santiago?” The older woman who had asked one of the first questions came up to her while everyone filed out of the community center. “I just want to thank you…for being here and for what you did at the hospital.”

  Guilt washed over Isa at the older woman’s words. “Please don’t thank me.”

  Her expertise wouldn’t be needed if she’d stopped those men from stealing the virus in the first place.

  “Well, I am. If it hadn’t been for you and Dr. Winter caring enough about Beaver Ridge to come here and investigate, there’s no telling what would happen to our community by the time health officials rolled into town.” The older woman flashed a watery smile. “And my granddaughter, Beth, tells me that because of you and your miracle popsicles, my great-granddaughter’s getting a little stronger each hour.”

  A ghost of a smile slipped onto Isa’s face as she thought about the little toddler. “I think her hereditary strength is more likely the reason she’s getting a little better.”

  “Whatever the reason, thank you.” The woman squeezed Isa’s hand and filed out with the rest of the Beaver Ridge residents.

  Isa stood and watched them go, more than a little amazed at how well they faced the news. More than a handful, including the two men who Ryder prevented from punching each other, volunteered their time and services in patrolling the town. Off to the left, Roman and King spoke with a few more, getting their contact information and already devising a plan.

  Jaz saddled up next to her. “I think that went pretty well, all things considered.”

  Isa nodded. “It definitely could’ve been worse.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “First? Sleep. And then we do everything we did today all over again and hope something works.”

  * * *

  King stomped into the cabin, only his eyes visible through the layers of clothing. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there, man. When all this is over, remind me to spend a week in Florida. Or the Bahamas.”

  “Anything out of the norm out there?” Roman leaned closer to the laptop, inspecting each of the feeds from the hunting cams. “I noticed camera six shifted a few inches to the east.”

  “Yeah, I moved it back. The tree was marked, judging from the tracks, by a damn big bear. Probably got bored and decided to use it as a paddle or something. But other than now having frostbite on my dick? There’s nothing out of the norm out there. Jaz and Ryder took my post and are running through a few things with three of tonight’s volunteers. Gotta say, I didn’t expect people to step up like that. I think we have a pretty solid security rotation for the next three days.”

  “Sometimes people surprise you.”

  “Sometimes they do.” King tossed his gear onto the table with a heavy thunk and dropped ass-first onto the couch. “I forgot how it feels working with a team…relying on others.”

  “Feels good and scary at the same time,” Roman muttered.

  “Exactly. I can see why you and your brothers decided to build Steele Ops. Instant trust. Known variables. If one of you steps out of the line, the other brothers kick his ass.”

  Roman dragged his gaze back to King. “All reasons why we did what we did, but we do hire outside of our immediate gene pool, you know. Jaz and Tank are good people.”

  “Not denying it. What’s Jaz’s story anyway? A Marine like her is usually in it until the walker on wheels has to come out.”

  “You really expect me to answer that?”

  King snorted. “No, just checking to see if you turned into a gossiper in your retirement.”

  Like all of them, Jaz had her own past and her own reasons for leaving the military. Some of it he knew. Some of it he didn’t. As long as it didn’t affect her job with Steele Ops, he didn’t need to be brought into the loop, and his brothers felt the same way.

  “You know who else is a good person?” Roman veered the subject away from Jaz. “You. I mean, you’re an asshole, but you’re a good asshole. If you ever get an itch to be part of something bigger, let me know. We can always use another asshole on the team.”

  King’s face split into a grin. “First, I wouldn’t fling the term good around too much. I got a reputation to keep, man. And second, don’t hold your breath. I’m a free spirit. Nothing and no one can contain me.”

  Something heavy dropped on the second floor, and a string of muffled curses immediately followed. Considering Ryder and Jaz were in the field, that left only one person…who was supposed to be sleeping but obviously wasn’t.

  King kicked his feet onto the coffee table and leaned back. “I’ll keep watch on things down here if you want to head upstairs. You look like shit, probably could use a bit of rest.”

  “Not tired,” Roman said truthfully.

  His friend smirked. “I said rest, not sleep. For some people that means meditation or working out. Horizontal activities of the mattress variety always work best to turn off my brain, but since Jaz scares the hell out of me and Dr. Sexy is taken, I’m shit out of luck.”

  Even the suggestion of King making a play for Isa rose his blood pressure. “Yeah you are.”

  King grinned. “Go up and check on your woman. We both know you want to.”

  He did, but he also knew she wouldn’t like what he had to say, which was why he’d kept his distance. Knowing the men from the Legion were behind this outbreak changed their next steps—steps that should now take them to Steele Ops, where he had a cement bunker, security systems out the ass, and an entire armory to keep Isabel safe.

  He also knew she wouldn’t go for it.

  “Call me if there are any issues.” Roman ignored his former teammate’s chuckles and headed upstairs.

  Isabel’s door stood ajar. He heard her voice and, through the crack, saw her pace the length of her room while on the phone. He turned, about to leave her alone, when she’d said her good nights to the person on the other end.

  What the hell…Roman rapped on the door jamb.

  She glanced up and, at the first lock of their gazes, stole his breath. Dressed head to toe in black and red flannel PJs, there wasn’t an inch of skin showing. Strands of silky dark hair escaped her messy half bun, visually begging him to free the rest from its confines, but he held back, concerned over the exhaustion dimming her usually vibrant eyes.

  “Thought you’d already turned in for the night, but I heard you talking. Did you call your grandfather?” Roman asked.

  “Maddy.” She gestured for him to come inside. “She’s rightfully still shaken up with everything that happened at the lab, but now that Frank is about to be discharged from the hospital, she’s feeling a bit better. She agreed to continue my work at the Legion until I get back to DC.”

  Damn…and here he’d hoped to ease into it. “About that…”

  “About what?”

  “DC.”

  “No.” She turned her back on him and busied herself with her laptop bag.

  “I didn’t even suggest anything yet.”

  She whirled around on him. “You don’t suggest, Roman, you order. And save your breath, because I’m staying here in Beaver Ridge until the GHO sends in an action team that can take over, and not a second before.”

  “It’s not safe here.”

  Her cheeks reddened as she flung her hands up in the air. “In case you haven’t been following along these last few days, it’s not safe anywhere! I’m not leaving these people to suffer alone while I go
hide in a damn bunker. I’m staying here, where I can attempt to clean up my mess.”

  “This isn’t on you, Doc.”

  “Your saying that doesn’t make it true.”

  Trapping her chin between his fingers, he veered her gaze to his and held it hostage. “I’m saying it because it is true. You didn’t create FC-5, and you sure as hell didn’t infect these people.”

  “It was taken on my watch.” Pain flooded her pretty eyes until Roman nearly felt it as his own. “There’s a two-year-old girl inside that school who’s fighting for her life right now because I didn’t do anything to stop those bastards.”

  “It was taken by force, babe. You didn’t giftwrap it and present it to those assholes on a silver fucking platter.” Anxious for her to really hear him, Roman gentled his hands and made sure she couldn’t look away. “First rule of any Special Forces operation is to keep yourself alive. Because if you’re compromised, then everyone counting on you follows right behind. You hear what I’m saying?”

  “You mean to tell me you haven’t risked your own life to save someone else’s?” Isa asked knowingly, but she wasn’t upset or angry. She sounded resigned as her gaze dropped to his leg. “How did that happen, Roman? Because I know it wasn’t while you were taking out the garbage. You risked your life for others every time you put on your uniform. Olly did, too. And hell, you’re still doing it.”

  She wasn’t wrong. And if he stood on that same minefield tomorrow and was given the same decision to make, he’d activate that IED all over again. He’d sacrifice his right leg, too, if it meant those kids got to go home to their parents.

  “My weapon of choice is a gun, Doc. Yours is that beautiful brain of yours. If something happened to you, how long do you think it would take Tony, or even Maddy, to get anywhere near the knowledge you have of FC-5? And how many people would die in the process of them getting there?”

  “I get what you’re saying, but I can’t leave, Roman. I won’t.”