Extinction Evolution (The Extinction Cycle Book 4)

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Start with the good,” Mitchell said.

  “Several of General Kennor’s staff made it out of Central Command before it fell. General George Johnson is now temporarily in charge of the military. He’s been taken temporarily to the George Washington Carrier Strike Group.”

  “Smart man,” Black said. “Another reason to move Central Command there.”

  Olson handed Black and Mitchell manila folders stamped TOP SECRET.

  “The second piece of good news is that the first stage of Operation Extinction has been a success. Our teams collected more than enough chemotherapeutics. Inside, you will see the four locations assigned to the development of Kryptonite. They’re all using genetic modification to speed up the production of the antibodies. Three of those four have already started the process. Kryptonite should be ready in two weeks.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Black asked, seemingly unconcerned with the science.

  “Central Command itself is a complete loss. The facility is offline, and I wouldn’t advise investing any resources into taking it back.”

  “I agree,” Black said. “But if General Johnson is in charge, then it will be up to him.”

  Olson continued like he hadn’t heard the Vice President, addressing Mitchell directly instead. “There’s something else, sir. Apparently there has been an incident on Plum Island.”

  Mitchell finished off his coffee and said, “Isn’t that where Secretary of State Ringgold is?”

  “Yes, sir, it is. She’s fine, but we received a report that Colonel Wood and several of his men have been killed.”

  Mitchell cringed. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the coffee or the report. It was the second time in as many days that Plum Island had been attacked.

  “Were they able to hold back the Variants?” Mitchell asked.

  “Sir, Colonel Wood and his men weren’t killed by Variants. There was some sort of altercation between the forces stationed there. We aren’t sure what happened. General Johnson is still looking into the matter, but after the loss of Offutt, he’s been preoccupied with more pressing issues.”

  “Humans killing humans,” Mitchell said, shaking his head. He sank in the plush leather chair. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any uglier.”

  “That changes everything,” Black said. “Colonel Wood was overseeing Operation Extinction.”

  “He will be replaced,” Olson said. “The war will continue without him.”

  Black ran his index finger across a bleeding crack on his bottom lip. “You obviously know nothing about the military, Olson. Wood isn’t the type of man who’s easily replaced. From what I know about him he is...was the fearless leader we needed to defeat the Variants.”

  Mitchell rose to his feet and palmed the table before Olson could offer a retort. He looked at his Vice President and Chief of Staff in turn. Exhausted eyes stared back at him under the weak glow from a bank of overhead lights. He shifted his gaze to the concrete walls of the bunker that had been built to protect them from a nuclear impact.

  “How’d it come to this?” Mitchell asked, bowing his head. His wife, his friends, and his staff weren’t the only things he’d lost since the outbreak. The passion and killer instinct that had helped him climb the ranks of the Senate was gone now too. Eradicated by the fear he now lived with every minute of every day.

  But what ate at Mitchell even more was his complete lack of power. He’d signed it all away to General Kennor in the hopes of taking back the streets from the Variants. It was his last move as a politician. Now he was just a lame duck President in an empty suit.

  “Is that all?” Mitchell asked. The words lacked emotion, and he hardly recognized his own voice.

  The only response came in the shuffling of papers. Black licked his right finger and began flipping through his folder. Mitchell glanced at his Chief of Staff. Olson had helped him win five elections. Over the years they had earned a nickname from his opponents he had secretly loved—the Lions of Capitol Hill. Now there would never be an election again.

  That was one of the hardest things to stomach. Democracy was gone, and so was the promise of hope and freedom. With things continuing to get worse every day, Mitchell doubted they could take back their country. Central Command was destroyed, General Kennor was dead, and now Colonel Wood, the architect of Operation Extinction, was too.

  A loud knock on the door rattled Mitchell from his thoughts. Marine Lieutenant Caleb Stanton entered the room. He was Chief of Operations for Cheyenne Mountain and had kept the bunker safe—so far. His eyes were hidden under the shadows cast by his helmet, but Mitchell could tell something was wrong.

  “Mr. President, Mr. Vice President,” Stanton said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation. Several packs of Variants have been spotted along a frontage road that leads to a backup entrance to the facility.”

  Mitchell was no soldier, but he was smart enough to know that Stanton wouldn’t interrupt if the threat wasn’t serious. A chill ran down his legs.

  “Pull the patrols back inside, and post every available soldier to sentry duty,” Black said.

  “Already done, sir,” Stanton said. “They won’t get into the facility. I assure you.” He stepped into the light, and Mitchell finally saw his eyes. They were strong and confident, but Mitchell didn’t trust the lieutenant to keep him safe. Truthfully, he didn’t trust anyone to keep him safe.

  As Stanton left the room, Mitchell faced Black and Olson. “Tell General Johnson I’m requesting Central Command be moved to the GW Strike Group. Olson, start packing. We’re leaving this shithole and heading to the Florida Keys.”

  Kate slipped on the helmet of her CBRN suit and reluctantly entered the BSL-4 lab. There was work to do, but her heart and mind were still on the tarmac where Lieutenant Colonel Jensen had been gunned down.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Ellis asked.

  Kate nodded and pulled a stool over to her station. “I’ll be fine,” she lied. “Right now we need to focus on the second stage of Operation Extinction. Have we identified the other facilities participating in the production of the antibodies?”

  “Major Smith went through Colonel Wood’s files earlier this morning. The three facilities with bioreactors are located in Texas, Oregon, and Florida. Colonel Wood authorized production at all three facilities. They’re using the same genetic modification as us to speed up the antibodies, but it appears there was no effort to contact other countries.”

  Kate wasn’t surprised. She thought of her parents in Europe. Her hope that they had survived dwindled every day. For the longest time, she had felt isolated and unable to do anything for them. Now, with Wood out of the picture, she could finally do something to help the rest of the world.

  “As soon as we get the reactors online, we need to find a way to reach other labs,” Kate said. “Places in other countries. We can’t produce enough antibodies with only four sites. They might cover the US, but that’s nowhere near enough to cover the world.”

  “I know. Problem is, no one seems to know what’s going on or who to talk to.”

  The wall-mounted intercom chirped. Major Smith and a neatly dressed African-American woman stood behind the observation window at the far end of the lab.

  Kate stiffened in her suit when she realized who the woman was.

  “Doctors, as you already know, this is Secretary of State Jan Ringgold,” Major Smith said. “I’ve spent the past hour explaining the work we do here and about the incident last night.”

  “I’d like to ask you some questions,” Ringgold said. Her tone was casual, but serious.

  “Certainly, Madam Secretary,” Kate replied. “Please give us a few minutes to get changed out of our suits.”

  “That won’t be necessary. We can speak through the intercom.”

  Kate exchanged a glance with Ellis, who nodded back.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, doctors, but I’ve been stuck under a rock for the past month, so to speak. Fortunately, Major Smi
th has brought me up to speed on VX9H9 and Kryptonite. You’re both to be commended for your work, and I thank you.”

  Kate had expected to defend herself about the events the previous night. Instead, she felt a tingle of pride. The feeling was unusual, and it quickly dissipated at the thought of the monsters VX9H9 had created.

  “I wish that was all I needed to talk to you about,” Ringgold continued. “Unfortunately, there are more pressing matters at hand. After last night’s firefight, I’ve been trying to piece together what little information I have to go on. And frankly, I don’t trust anyone on this island.”

  Kate knew it was coming, but the words still made her feel slimy. Like she was part of the corruption. Then again, she wouldn’t trust anyone if she was in the Secretary of State’s shoes. Major Smith fidgeted and pulled at the cuff of his uniform. He raised a brow at Kate as if to say, You better make this good.

  “I don’t blame you, Madam Secretary,” Kate said. “For the past month, Dr. Ellis and I have been working in fear of the men supervising this facility—first Colonel Gibson, the architect of VX-99 and the Hemorrhage Virus, and then his long-time colleague, Colonel Wood. The very building you find yourself in now was built to research VX-99 long before the Hemorrhage Virus made it out of a top-secret lab on San Nicholas Island.”

  “You’re telling me Colonel Wood was involved, too?”

  Kate nodded. “The paper trail continues to climb the ladder. We can prove that General Kennor knew about Colonel Wood’s involvement, and that he continued to allow him to supervise the science division of Operation Extinction.”

  All trace of civility disappeared from Ringgold’s face. She narrowed her eyes and glanced at Smith, who shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, Secretary Ringgold.”

  “Madam Secretary, I can assure you of one thing. Master Sergeant Beckham and Team Ghost have done everything in their power to stop the Variants since day one. Many of them have given their lives to save our country and protect Plum Island,” Kate continued.

  A moment of realization passed over Ringgold’s dark brown eyes. “Master Sergeant Beckham saved me from Raven Rock, but he’s still part of the military that brought our country to its knees. If what you say about General Kennor is true, then the new commander, General Johnson, could be just as dangerous.”

  Kate recalled the name. He was the General who had explained Project Earthfall. He had also been one of Kennor’s confidantes.

  “Madam Secretary, if I may,” Kate said.

  “Go ahead, Doctor.”

  “General Johnson may very well be in on the VX-99 program, but we’re running out of time to defeat the Variants. I need help coordinating the production of Kryptonite with other countries. That means contacting other labs and having access to confidential information. You heard Colonel Wood on the tarmac. He didn’t want to deploy the weapon worldwide.”

  Ringgold nodded. “I remember.”

  Kate took a moment to think. There had to be someone out there they could trust. “How well do you know President Mitchell?”

  “My experience with Mitchell has always been from the other side of the political aisle. He’s a difficult man to deal with, but maybe I can talk some sense into him. Problem is, he isn’t in control of the military, or Operation Extinction.” Ringgold looked toward the ceiling. After a brief pause, she added, “I need some time to analyze this information. This is a lot to take in.”

  “Wait, Madam Secretary,” Kate said, raising a hand. “I know what it’s like to feel as though you can’t trust anyone. I’ve been there, but I promise, you can trust us. And you can trust Beckham and his men. We’re almost out of time to save the human race, and I desperately need your help.”

  Ringgold held Kate’s gaze, searching for something. Kate wasn’t sure if Ringgold found what she was looking for.

  -2-

  Fitz slept fitfully that day. He woke at three in the afternoon to what sounded a lot like a gunshot. Sitting up in his bunk, he rubbed at his eyes, then scanned the mostly empty room. The muscular outlines of several Marines and Rangers slept in bunks across the barracks. After so much violence the night before, the silence was eerie.

  Chow sat on a bed a few feet away, chewing on a toothpick and cleaning his scoped M4.

  Fitz rubbed his eyes again and said, “Did you hear a gunshot?”

  Chow stopped chewing and flicked the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “When?”

  “Never mind, must be hearing phantom noises again.”

  Chow went back to cleaning his gun, and Fitz took a trip to the bathroom. When he returned to his bunk, he changed into his uniform and grabbed his MK11. His orders were to man Tower 4 for the afternoon and the evening. There were more battles to be fought today, but the firefight with Wood’s men had taken another piece of Fitz. He was still in a mild state of shock. That was to be expected; after all, he had taken the lives of four men. Colonel Wood deserved what he got, but what about the other men? It wasn’t the death penalty for killing an officer that Fitz was worried about—it was the thought that maybe the other Medical Corps soldiers hadn’t deserved to die.

  “You good, bro?” Chow asked.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Fitz. Three days ago, he had asked Chow the same thing. They’d both lost brothers, and they’d killed to protect the lives of the innocent. Men and women like Dr. Ellis and Dr. Lovato. Everyone in this new world needed forgiveness for something, but Fitz had a lot to ask forgiveness for. From the lives he took in Iraq, to the men he killed on the tarmac. In the end, his fate was in God’s hands.

  “Just a bit rattled from last night,” Fitz finally said. He slung his rifle over his back and reached down to rub his thighs. “I’ll be fine.”

  Chow stopped to pat Fitz on the shoulder, but then continued on without uttering another word. The simple touch reminded Fitz he wasn’t alone. Across the room, the doors opened and Beckham entered with Horn. Fitz finished rubbing out the knot in his upper right leg, then stood to greet his brothers.

  “Fitz,” Beckham said. His voice woke several of the Marines and Rangers. Their heads popped up like prairie dogs, all of them still on alert from the night before.

  Beckham whispered something to the Marines and waved at Fitz and Chow. They met on the landing outside the building, where Apollo sat waiting. His tail whipped back and forth when he saw Fitz.

  “Haven’t had a chance to thank you, yet again, for saving our asses,” Beckham said as soon as the doors closed. “You’re one hell of a shot, Fitz.”

  “You’re a hero,” Horn added.

  Fitz shook his head. “I’m not a hero. I couldn’t save Lieutenant Colonel Jensen.”

  Beckham’s eyes darted down to Apollo. The German Shepherd whined as if he could sense his handler’s pain.

  “Neither could I,” Beckham said in a hushed voice.

  A moment of silence embraced them, but Fitz pushed it away. He was starting to hate the quiet.

  “I should get to my post,” he said.

  “Right,” Beckham said, snapping from his trance. “Let’s get moving.”

  “I’ll meet you on the beach, Boss. I need to stop by the medical ward and have Dr. Hill check my arm again,” Horn said. “You should have him check out your shoulder.”

  Beckham shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine, man. Besides, you’re the one that got shot.”

  “It’s nothing. Doesn’t even hurt. The bullet only clipped me. I’m good to go, Boss.”

  Beckham eyed Horn’s bicep skeptically. “Let’s let the doc be the judge of that.”

  “He’s just a physical therapist.”

  “Then have Kate look at it,” Beckham said. “And let me know what she says.”

  Horn snorted and walked away.

  Beckham watched him go, then motioned for Chow and Fitz to follow him to the beach. Apollo ran ahead, sniffing the dirt path. The short walk was a powerful reminder of how low the island was on human resources. Each tower was manned, but Fitz didn’t see a single p
atrol.

  “You’re really going to let Wood’s men fight with us?” Fitz asked. He still wasn’t keen on the idea of arming the Medical Corps. He also didn’t like questioning Beckham, but the absent troops gave Fitz a bad feeling. He felt exposed, naked. If the Variants...

  “It’s a double-edged sword,” Beckham said. “Without them we’re at risk of another Variant attack, and I’m not sure we could stop it. But with them, we risk sabotage. For now they’re staying locked up until I make a decision.”

  “Maybe Gallagher is right. Maybe whoever is in charge will send some pogues to arrest us,” Chow said. “Or worse.”

  “I’m hoping they have bigger fish to fry, especially with the loss of Central Command,” Beckham replied.

  Chow pulled a tree branch back to let Fitz and Beckham past. “We should plan for the worst. Wood was in charge of Operation Extinction.”

  Beckham drew in a long deep breath as they continued through the wooded terrain. He slowed his pace but didn’t reply. The men emerged from the thick underbrush in silence. They stopped on a ridgeline overlooking the western beach. The surf slurped beyond the electrical fences, and a breeze whistled through the canopy behind them. Fitz wasn’t deceived by the calm. He’d seen it before—and each time it had been shattered by the monsters.

  Chow stepped to the edge of the bluff. “I still say we take our chances without Wood’s men. Maybe Major Smith can get us some fresh blood from another post.”

  “Wouldn’t count on it,” Beckham said. “Unless Ringgold can pull some strings. We don’t know if General Johnson is one of the good guys. Judging from experience, he’s probably not.”

  “That’s why we should hunker down and reevaluate our defenses. If Johnson sends his dirt bags to take the island, we need to be prepared,” Chow said.

  “If they come,” Beckham said, gripping the stock of his rifle so hard his knuckles popped, “we stand down. I won’t risk the safety of the civilians here in another firefight.”

  “But...” Chow began to say.

  “That’s an order, Chow. I pray it doesn’t come to that, but if it does, our only hope lies with Ringgold. We saved her from Raven Rock, and she knows the truth about the VX-99 program now. Hopefully that’s enough to show her we’re the good guys.”