The Chimera Vector

by Nathan M. Farrugia

  ‘Faster!’ she shouted at Benito.

  He slowed to a halt. ‘I’m not going with you.’

  ‘You don’t have any choice!’ she yelled. ‘Get in!’

  He started for one of the other, slower helicopters. ‘I have a pilot’s license. I can fly my—’

  ‘Those helicopters are too slow. We don’t have time.’ She aimed Renée’s pistol at his face. ‘Get in now.’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or I will shoot you.’

  Benito swallowed, then began to climb in. She holstered her pistol and offered her working hand to help him, but he ignored it. She yelled for Lucia to go, then held on as the Speedhawk rose sharply towards the hangar roof.

  ‘Hang on!’ Lucia shouted over the noise of the rotor blades.

  The Speedhawk ascended faster than Sophia had expected. Benito was half in, hands clawing for something to hold onto. She leaped forward, sliding on her stomach, and seized his wrist just in time. The Speedhawk was out of the hangar. The humid air hit her, then rushed out of her lungs as she was slammed flat onto her chest.

  As the Speedhawk shot skyward, she held onto Benito’s wrist to stop him falling out. His eyes were wide and his hands searched for something to cling to. There was only her arm. He seized it.

  She slid herself further forward and snatched whatever she could grab—the back of his collar—and tried to haul him inside. He managed to crawl up to his stomach. She only had one hand as leverage. With her wounded shoulder, she didn’t have the strength to pull him in.

  Past his head, she could see Desecheo Island below. She guessed they were about thirty floors high off the island. Something glinted in the sunlight. She watched it disappear into the center of the island with the sound of rumbling thunder.

  The bunker-buster bomb.

  She held her breath. They were still too goddamn close.

  Lucia shouted something, but Sophia couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  Again, she tried to pull Benito in. She gripped the back of his blood- and sweat-stained singlet. It tore from her grasp. She reached further down, her fingers wrapping over his belt. An instant later, he was lying beside her, hands sprawled across the slippery floor.

  Below them, the island disappeared into a cloud of iridescent white. Then the Speedhawk shuddered, knocking her right over Benito and out of the helicopter. The white cloud trembled, and a thin white halo spread out below her as she fell. She could see the ocean ripple in its wake.

  Frantically, she hooked both arms around Benito’s right leg. Her brain rattled inside her skull as she went from headfirst to upright. Without warning, the Speedhawk lurched sideways, nearly tearing her free. It felt like the helicopter was a lure on a giant fishing line that was being cast out to sea at phenomenal speed.

  She hung on. Her shoulder wanted to tear away from her body. About 200 yards below her, through squinted eyes, she saw the shockwave shredding the island apart. An unbearable heat smothered her, forcing her to close her eyes.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw Leoncjusz smile as he held up a ruby-colored Christmas ornament. My mother calls these bombka.

  She opened her eyes. It felt like her grip around Benito’s leg was slipping. He was hanging off the side of the Speedhawk’s cargo-hold doorway again, and this time his grip looked worse than hers.

  The shockwave faded. Their sideways slingshot had ended. Miraculously, the helicopter was still upright. Lucia stabilized it.

  Sophia was dangling below Benito, one arm wrapped around his ankle and a fifty-level drop to the Caribbean below. Every muscle in her body was on fire. Light danced across her vision. She no longer had any feeling in her hands, feet or even her face. Everything felt numb. She felt numb.

  Benito managed to pull himself further in. Sophia reached out to grip the edge of the doorway. With her weight off him, he was able to drag himself inside. She hauled herself in after him and shut the door. Collapsing on one of the seats, she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, hoping the tears wouldn’t come. The pain in her shoulder returned with a vengeance, stealing the breath from her. She could barely think, let alone speak.

  She opened her eyes to find Benito dressing her shoulder with her field dressings. His hands trembled as he took his belt off. With some more dressing as padding, he tightened the belt around her shoulder to staunch the blood flow between her heart and the wound. Once he was done he checked for something in his pocket. A single vial of iridescent blue liquid. He still had the anti-psychopath Chimera vector. Even if Cecilia failed, they would still succeed. But it didn’t change the fact that Cassandra, Nasira, Damien and Jay were all dead.

  It should’ve been her. Not them.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Benito looked out the window of the Speedhawk at the ledge extending from the sheer jagged cliff where the helicopter was to land. Lucia kept them hovering for a moment, then carefully settled the helicopter down on what looked like an aluminum platform.

  There was a cave opening before them, large enough to squeeze a light aircraft through. Benito watched as the cave doors parted on hinges, turning inwards. The doors themselves were covered in mountain rock, decorated with moss and fernery to conceal the true material beneath it: reinforced steel. The Speedhawk jolted as the aluminum platform began to withdraw through the cave doors.

  Once inside, Sophia leaped off the platform, nearly losing her balance with only one good arm. Lucia followed suit. Benito contemplated staying in the helicopter by himself, but decided it was safer with them. He made sure he kept no more than three paces away from them, aware that they still had their pistol and rifle ready. They didn’t bother to close the fake-rock doors behind them, which he found rather odd.

  As he stepped off the platform, he saw that it had wheels that ran on a pair of rails, powered by an on-board motor. The rails themselves were retractable.

  ‘We can’t stay long,’ Sophia said quietly. ‘The Fifth Column might know about this base by now.’

  ‘I can smell blood,’ Lucia said.

  ‘Whose?’ Sophia asked.

  ‘Not sure. Our people are here. Cecilia. Everyone.’ She shook her head. ‘No soldiers though.’

  ‘Damn,’ Sophia said. ‘We’re too late.’

  Benito remained behind them as they surveyed the chamber. The walls and ceiling were fabricated, and seemed to be molded upon the existing shape of the cave. He knew Cecilia had chosen the location for this place, and financed the discreet conversion of the natural limestone cave system into a cleverly retrofitted forward-operating base. The fact that the base was carefully concealed in an archeologically protected region of Belize meant it was unlikely to be stumbled upon even by the most persistent treasure hunter.

  ‘Where is ev—’ Benito stopped mid-sentence as Sophia brought a finger to her lips.

  He watched her move lightly into the next chamber. Crates and boxes of various sizes were stacked around them. At the other end was a pair of tubular passages. Sophia led them down the left one. As they walked, he noticed the passage descending. Lucia walked behind him, her attention focused on their rear. Something wasn’t right. But he didn’t want to say anything, preferring to wait and hope for the best.

  A thicket of cables sagged along the limestone walls, marked every thirty feet by light bulbs that bled onto the limestone with fingers of black iron. Benito tried and failed to suppress a chill that shook his body. He was careful not to slip on anything as the passage twisted to the right and then to the left again, before expanding out into a large galley kitchen.

  Two Elohim stood there, flanked by rudimentary furniture cut from Belizean mahogany. They aimed their rifles, then lowered them again as they recognized Sophia and Lucia. One of the Elohim spoke into his throat mike.

  Benito halted mid-stride when he realized what was covering the galley kitchen floor. Torn flesh. Bullet wounds shredding faces, chests and torsos. He couldn’t move, yet he was unable to look away.

  ‘Oh my god,’ Lucia said fro
m behind him.

  Sophia’s voice sounded strained. ‘What happened?’

  The Elohim on the right, a young male with grim, pencil-thin lips, answered. ‘The Fifth Column found the base. Blue Berets cut off everyone’s escape. They didn’t stand a chance.’

  Benito approached one of the bodies. A man. He had long, gray hair and flecks of blood dotting his creased face. Pale blue eyes stared up at him.

  ‘Did you clear the mountain?’ Sophia asked the Elohim.

  He eyed Sophia’s blood-slicked arm through his red goggles. ‘They’re long gone. Didn’t touch a thing. Even the air filtration system’s still running.’

  Sophia made for the nearest transceiver. ‘Comms still up?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  She was already checking the frequency and encryption. Benito, wanting to get away from the pile of bodies, followed her. She reached for the handset, then paused.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

  She swallowed. ‘Transmitting from our base repeater to every Akhana base in the world. Cecilia should have given them the vector codes. Which means they have their mosquitoes ready to deploy. This is it.’

  Benito nodded. ‘Then what are you waiting for?’

  She picked up the handset. ‘This is Jade Hera. I repeat, this is Jade Hera. All Hera call signs are to disperse Panacea.’

  She spoke clearly, but Benito could hear her voice wavering.

  She repeated her message twice more, then said, ‘All Hera call signs confirm immediately, over.’

  Gradually, the call signs reported in. The mosquito payloads were being deployed. Sophia dropped the handset and leaned her weight onto the transceiver’s desk.

  She turned to the almost motionless Elohim. ‘Where’s Cecilia?’

  ‘In the operating room,’ the male Elohim said. ‘Wait here, I’ll—’

  Sophia strode past the pair of them. They didn’t try to stop her.

  ***

  Sophia could feel the tears drying over the blood and grime on her cheeks. She stepped into the operating room. Cecilia lunged forward, catching her before she collapsed.

  Without saying a word, Cecilia helped her onto an operating table and inspected her shoulder wound. Sophia could smell her oriental perfume. It was warm and spicy, sweetened with vanilla and patchouli. Comforting. But not comforting enough to dissolve her guilt.

  ‘They came looking for the vector codes, didn’t they?’ she said.

  Cecilia nodded. ‘They were here before me, so they didn’t find them.’ She rolled up one leg of Sophia’s combat pants. ‘Everyone here paid the price.’

  It felt like something bit her thigh. She looked down to see Cecilia holding an auto-injector, the needle already inside her flesh.

  ‘You’ll need proper medical attention for your arm,’ Cecilia said.

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ Sophia said.

  ‘I heard you give the order to the Akhana bases,’ Cecilia said. ‘I’ve already transmitted the code so they were ready for you. I would’ve done it myself, but we had to make sure the Chimera vector didn’t get into the Fifth Column’s hands.’ She paused. ‘Sophia, there’s something I have to tell you.’

  ‘About the Chimera vector?’

  ‘Yes. I must confess that it’s not as much of a silver bullet as we’d first thought. It doesn’t work on every type of psychopath. The schizoidal psychopath, for one, can be male or female. Those genes are transmitted autosomally, not through the X chromosome. The skirtoidal psychopath is the same. And there are hybrids of these, even more anomalies. The Chimera vector can’t sterilize them all.’

  ‘But the essential psychopath,’ Sophia said, ‘they’re the most dangerous. And it will sterilize them.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ Cecilia said. ‘It will still work on them as we intended.’

  Sophia almost choked as she tried to stifle her sobs. ‘Good,’ she said.

  She hated anyone seeing her like this, especially Cecilia.

  For the first time, she noticed a pair of Elohim standing at the operating room’s west entrance, their expressions hidden behind red-tinted visors. They probably thought she was weak, unstable. She felt her cheeks burn.

  Cecilia removed the auto-injector from Sophia’s thigh, then rolled the cuff of her pants back down. She straightened, picked black gloves from her trench-coat pocket and pulled them on, left hand first.

  ‘You didn’t fail,’ she said. ‘The anti-psychopath Chimera vector is now being deployed for global distribution. Sophia, you did everything exactly as I’d hoped.’

  Cecilia’s pearl earrings reminded her of dragées, the tiny metallic balls Denton used on his cupcakes. He used to hand them out during her training as rewards, then insist on a detailed analysis report on how each cupcake tasted.

  ‘Everything,’ Sophia said, ‘except save those who trusted us with their lives.’ She found herself staring at the dried blood cracking over her hand and closed her eyes. ‘We could’ve avoided this.’

  Cecilia leaned forward to take her other hand, the functional one. Her touch was electric. ‘I’m afraid we couldn’t. This was a necessary loss.’

  She withdrew her hand. Sophia opened her eyes. She noticed Cecilia’s off-white trench coat was unbuttoned to her midsection, revealing a para-aramid vest stained with shiny specks. Blood had soaked into the black fabric, visible under just the right angle of light. The hair on the back of Sophia’s neck prickled.

  Cecilia moved to the other side of the operating room and placed the auto-injector on a laminated benchtop. ‘You’re a good soldier, Sophia.’

  Sophia felt dreadfully sick. Something was wrong.

  ‘The sacrifices we made today, as painful as they might be, are essential for our survival tomorrow,’ Cecilia said. ‘It has taken me the better part of a year to get Denton exactly where we need him. Tell me, Sophia, do you know what a false flag penetrator is?’

  Sophia swallowed. ‘A spy. Unwittingly controlled by a third party.’

  Cecilia smiled. ‘A spy like Renée, who believed herself to be working for Denton but who was actually working for me. The Mexican standoff we had back in the BlueGene lab was staged, Sophia. I was never in any danger. But I had to convince Denton that I was. And I had to convince you.’

  Sophia’s mind reeled. ‘Your mercenaries . . .’ She glared at the Elohim. ‘Did you program them too?’

  ‘They already were, actually,’ Cecilia said. ‘The Elohim were operatives once, just like you. I altered their programming so they became wonderfully faithful zealots, and jacked them with more vectors than the late Damien and Jay, useful idiots as they were.’

  ‘But I don’t recog—’

  She dismissed Sophia with a wave of her hand. ‘Of course you don’t. They’ve come a long way from facial reconstructive surgery and a bit of target practice in Volterra.’

  That explained why she’d never recognized the Elohim as former operatives. Alarm bells went off in her head again. Denton hadn't killed Leoncjusz. Denton had arrived after the Elohim had already murdered him. Rage burned in the pit of Sophia’s stomach. She’d been played for a fool. She felt her pulse gushing in her ears.

  ‘You killed the only person I ever trusted,’ she yelled. ‘For what?’

  ‘Every death, every loss in your life, had to seem to come from Denton,’ Cecilia said. ‘You had to be compelled to do what I wanted you to do. It’s not that hard to understand.’

  Cecilia’s words pierced a dark reservoir inside Sophia. One where anger, so old, so buried, had transmuted into a black, volatile oil. Her teeth ran across her lips. ‘You’re one of them.’

  ‘I am my own agent,’ Cecilia said. ‘With your help, of course.’

  Sophia swallowed, her lips trembling beyond her control. ‘Sleight of hand, sleight of mind.’

  ‘And more help to come,’ Cecilia said. ‘Until then.’

  She walked with light, brisk steps towards the west entrance. It led to the base’s lower west exit, so small it w
as accessible only by foot. She must have transport waiting nearby.

  Sophia focused on a patch of floor, blocking out the dizziness that had overwhelmed her. ‘You’re leaving me here for the Fifth Column.’

  ‘I’ll see you again soon,’ Cecilia said. ‘That precious little empty provirus inside your body, the one that carries the decryption key for the Chimera vector codes—I feel obligated to mention that it also carries a latent virus. One that isn’t empty. One that kicks in when the mu opioid receptor comes into contact with an agonist.’

  ‘What’s inside the virus?’ Sophia asked.

  ‘Our most successful strain of swine flu. Able to infect anyone with a healthy immune system unfortunate enough to encounter you, which, in this case, will be the Fifth Column’s high brass.’ She shrugged. ‘All you need to activate it is an opioid agonist. Like codeine.’

  Sophia blinked. It made sense. ‘I don’t have a codeine allergy at all.’

  Cecilia turned to face Sophia, placed her hands on her hips. ‘Of course not. I couldn’t have you infecting people prematurely. Codeine isn’t a very strong agonist. At least not as strong as morphine.’

  Sophia’s heart misfired. A moment ago, she’d lain there and let Cecilia inject her with morphine.

  ‘If I’m infected then so are you,’ she said.

  ‘Since the swine flu project was in the same facility as Project GATE, all Project GATE personnel were inoculated,’ Cecilia said. ‘But don’t worry, your new Blue Beret friends aren’t going to die and crash into a mountain before you get there. You won’t be able to infect anyone until after the incubation period, and by that time I expect you to be deep in the heart of the Fifth Column’s OpCenter.’

  Sophia’s body trembled involuntarily. ‘I’m not James fucking Bond. Shoot me like a normal person,’ she hissed. ‘Do it!’

  Cecilia shook her head and smiled. ‘I don’t want to kill you, Sophia. I’m telling you everything because I want to be honest with you.’