The White Death

by Rafferty, Daniel

  Bloodworth tried to retain some control over her followers.

  “Get ready to move,” said Agent Bradley. He had agents dispersed throughout the crowd, who began shooting to cause panic. The team around him casually made their way closer to Bloodworth and her supporters onstage as the masses saw more explosions in the distance, panicking.

  “What about those around her onstage?” asked another agent through the earpiece.

  “Senior staff as well,” confirmed Bradley. “This comes directly from the director himself.”

  “Ready when you give the word.”

  Bradley aimed his gun and fired.

  Chapter 57

  “Christopher!” shouted Peter, firing the door open in a panic. “We need to talk.”

  Christopher held his hands up. “Calm down, Peter.” He’d just finished a late evening meal. Sunday passed by with frantic activity in Washington. It looked like Japan might have been able to stop infection with bombs, but the virus proved as tenacious as ever. After a few hours, it was back with a vengeance. City after city fell, with Washington and Tokyo declaring a war of words with each other over the United States’ decision to contain the Japanese peninsula. In Section 51, though, everything was quiet. They still hadn’t made any connection with Ursula, and Christopher could only hope now for some kind of intervention from the Council, even if it did come with sterilization.

  “I finally got a connection with Ursula,” he said. “But only for a few seconds.”

  “Go on.”

  “She was talking so fast,” said Peter, talking quickly himself. Christopher tried to slow him down, but nothing was working. “She says everything is starting to piece together down there, and she’s discovered something.”

  “What did she discover?” asked Christopher. He felt electrified with the news, giving himself a much-needed jolt in spirits.

  “She didn’t get time to finish the sentence,” shouted Peter.

  “Dammit!” roared Christopher. He fired a bunch of folders across the room.

  “But she did mention one word. Rabies.”

  “Rabies?” said Christopher. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “There’s something else,” said Peter.

  “Go on.”

  “Ambassador Kilroy was a carrier, as is Captain Rodgers and the woman in China. I think Barrington is ever so close to a vaccine.”

  “Get the connection reestablished then!”

  “Beijing has gone dark. Their power plants are shutting down.”

  Christopher listened to Peter rant on, trying to think of solutions.

  “I know what I heard. Any vaccine will die with her. That means we lose this war.”

  “But has she discovered a vaccine?” asked Christopher.

  “She was close.”

  “Truthfully?”

  “Truthfully,” said Peter. “And I can’t do it without her. If she has a vaccine, we can save Japan and stop a nuclear winter.”

  Christopher was about to tell Peter just how impossible it was when a message from the Council appeared on the large wall screen. It was Loretta, in all her authoritative glory.

  “This is an official recording. This Council plans to proceed with sterilization tomorrow morning, Monday, at 9:00 A.M.”

  The video feed cut out just as quick, leaving them stunned.

  “After everything, they’re still going ahead with it,” said Peter.

  Christopher never doubted that. Loretta would see this through to the end.

  “It’s time to bring her home, Christopher. We need that vaccine. I don’t want to be responsible for the destruction of the human race.”

  Christopher looked at him and saw a glimpse of the young bright-eyed scientist that had come here twenty years ago. They’d all aged, except Marina, with the stress of running Section 51. It certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart.

  “Peter, even if I could, we’d never get a helicopter or jet out here. Everything’s been pulled to the West Coast, readying for battle. Richards confirmed as much with me before you came in.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s unproven technology,” said Christopher, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

  “Exactly,” said Peter. “What have we really got to lose? One more mission doesn’t sound too bad.”

  Christopher felt a small grin break across his face. It had been a long time since they’d been on an “adventure,” as they called them. He lifted his phone, instructing the secretaries to have Marina report to his office immediately.

  “Peter, what kind of resistance can we…?”

  The door fired opened again with a loud bang, this time with Marina charging up to him.

  “Christopher, I shall not stand silent any longer. We must go and rescue that British woman,” she demanded, hands on her hips. She was already dressed in a long black leather military coat, red gloves, and a utility belt. She looked like a commando ready for battle.

  “Well, as I was trying…” said Christopher.

  “I will not stand here while that woman puts her life on the line to protect this planet. Now, if neither of you will come with me, here’s what I need.”

  “Marina, I actually just…”

  “Three staff who can shoot, a helicopter, explosives, a missile launcher, and perhaps a JCB digger, but I’m sure we can acquire that in China.”

  “Marina,” said Christopher loudly. “I was just calling for you.”

  She was probably the only person Christopher would allow to disregard protocol and authority. Marina tended to operate on more basic principles of right and wrong. On occasion, those principles had saved Section 51 from moral destitution. Freda had held her in very high regard.

  “For?” asked Marina, confused. “Listen, if you’re going to go off on me about that spat in the canteen earlier, he deserved it. I will not apologize!”

  “MARINA! We have lost all contact with Dr. Barrington. Peter feels she was nearing a breakthrough. If she dies, then any hope we have of a silver lining dies with her. It’s time to mount a rescue operation. I want that vaccine.”

  “Christopher, why didn’t you just say that?” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Well, gentlemen, what are we all standing around for?” She turned on her heels and marched out. Christopher grabbed his coat, trying to keep up.

  “Damn, it feels good to be back in action,” he said. He felt alive not stuck behind a desk anymore, even with his walking stick. Richards would be furious, but he had enough to deal with, and they needed the vaccine. If they rescued Barrington in the process, it would be a beautiful reward. Besides, he was pretty darn sure Richards wasn’t going to have him imprisoned.

  “Back to normal,” agreed Peter. Section 51 had been relatively quiet this past decade. “How will we get there?”

  “Marina, time to bring out Bertha.”

  “I thought you’d never ask. I’ll have her loaded up and ready in five minutes. Throw on some body armor and meet me outside ASAP.” She boarded the elevator, heading up to ground level.

  “George, I’ll take it from here,” she said on the runway.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He hopped out of Bertha, running back to the shelter. The arid Nevada desert never failed to test even the most battle-hardened of people.

  “Bertha. Recognize voice pattern Marina.”

  “Marina recognized, welcome aboard.” Marina had spent months perfecting the onboard computer voice, VIX, to the perfect professional yet sexy female voice.

  “VIX, activate advanced piloting software. I shall be piloting alone but will need maximum efficiency.”

  “Software loading.”

  “Marina, have you arranged air passage across the Pacific Ocean and Japan?” asked Christopher, Peter helping h
im onboard. They strapped themselves in tightly—Marina had a reputation as a highly aggressive pilot.

  “All confirmed. Used the Section 51 governmental authorization codes,” she replied. “We are technically operating within our purview anyway.”

  “That’s a great stretch of a technicality,” said Peter. “A lot of Japanese are going to see us as the enemy now.”

  “True,” said Christopher. “We aren’t letting them leave that island.”

  “Has war been declared?” said Peter.

  “All but legally.”

  “We’ll deal with the legal issues later,” said Marina. “Taking us up!”

  Bertha, a mighty black chopper designed exclusively by and for Section 51, shot into the air. It had no markings, allowing it to operate anywhere in the world. Powered with a micro-nuclear reactor, it was the only one of its kind. It could travel the world twelve times over before having to refuel. Marina fired the thruster levers forward, and Bertha picked up speed fast.

  “What’s the status of New York?” asked Peter. The helicopter was exceptionally quiet inside the cabin areas.

  “There’s nothing left, and I mean nothing. They used a nuclear device Section 51 enhanced back in the 1980s.”

  “That was the B41s if I’m not mistaken?” asked Peter. He had studied previous Section 51 operations.

  “Yes,” replied Christopher. He opened a bar of caramel chocolate and tucked in, not remembering the last time he ate. “The government is sending in specialist teams to assess if any infected were able to escape, but I doubt it. The explosion covered an area fifty percent greater than the area of projected infection. Every precaution was taken.”

  “How did that ambassador end up there in the first place?” Peter took a chunk of the gooey sweet offered by Christopher.

  “Apparently when he got to Japan, the Japanese wanted to quarantine him, but considering he had shown no signs of infection, they didn’t bother. We didn’t know enough about the virus back then, or that there could be carriers. His armed protection team contacted the State Department, who arranged for his transport back to the States. Everyone was sure he was infection-free.”

  “Surely our State Department would have thought twice before bringing him back on American soil?” said Peter. “Without medical checks? Anything?”

  “Some idiot at the State Department thought they were talking about their ambassador stationed in Japan. Anyway, he was flown out on a private jet soon afterwards to New York.”

  “What about his security detail?”

  “Left in Japan to help bolster our own forces there,” said Christopher. “Even the jet the ambassador flew on to New York never left the city afterwards, with all the flight cancellations.”

  “Christopher, could it be possible that we infected Japan? Either the ambassador or Captain Rodgers?” Peter hated to think America might have doomed an entire country without knowing.

  “I can’t answer that.”

  Peter looked out the window. “Nothing would shock me now.”

  “Freda returning would.” Christopher peered down at the dark deep ocean below them. “She’s gone. I just hope she went of her own accord.”

  “Wouldn’t that be worse?” asked Peter.

  “She was like a sister to me. If she felt she had to go, then it was for the right reasons. Knowing Freda, it was probably to help us in some way. We just haven’t realized how yet, but maybe Dr. Barrington is about to shed some light on that.” After talking some more, Christopher picked up his computer tablet and began accessing the latest email bulletins, while Peter continued to try to contact Ursula. Soon enough, they were crossing into Japan and could see land below them.

  “Just what I feared,” he said.

  “What?” asked Peter.

  “The Japanese government has told its people to flee to America and set their armed forces against us.” Christopher had feared flying over a warzone.

  Japanese and American naval and air forces were engaged in battle across the isolated island. They could see sinking ships from both sides, along with fierce air battles in the skies. Helicopters flew out to sea, being shot down by U.S. naval fighters. Christopher could see the USS Gerald Ford, one of the behemoth aircraft carriers of the United States, floating just off shore. She was surrounded by destroyers, cruisers, and fighters. The battle raged on around her. A few missiles tried to get past her defense guns but failed.

  “Our military is trying to hold back the infection as long as possible,” said Christopher, skim-reading another email report. “They’re having some luck, but only in delaying the inevitable.”

  “Marina, how long until we enter Chinese airspace?” Christopher knew every minute that passed increased the chances of them failing.

  “About ten minutes. I’m getting ready to reactivate our primary propulsion system,” replied Marina. Bertha’s speed increased, with two more auxiliary engines activating, and Peter tightened his seatbelt.

  “I see you’ve never heard of Marina’s unique flying abilities.”

  “Heard of? Yes. Experienced? No,” said Peter.

  “I heard that,” she remarked.

  “What the hell was that?” shouted Peter as a stream of bullets flew past his window, nearly grazing the light armor.

  “Report,” said Christopher.

  “Japanese fighter choppers.”

  “Hail them and correct the situation.”

  “This is Commander Marina Black of the United States of America. Authorization code Delta Charlie Echo Fiver Niner. Cease firing immediately.”

  “Negative, pilot,” said the Japanese pilot.

  “We are on a mission to recover a possible vaccine for the virus,” said Marina.

  “We don’t have time for this,” said Peter.

  “Agreed,” said Christopher. “Marina, I expect to be in China as soon as possible.”

  “Understood. VIX, red alert.”

  “Activating defensive systems,” said VIX. Bertha was no ordinary chopper, and these Japanese fighter aircraft were about to witness why firsthand. Thick, charcoal-colored armor began covering the entire helicopter, including the blades. The armor was experimental, and Section 51 designed it to be as tough as that used on America’s mighty aircraft carriers. The forward chopper windows were shielded in a lighter, slightly transparent armor to still provide the pilot with a basic view ahead, instead of relying solely on sensors.

  “VIX, evasive maneuvers. Scan attacking objects.”

  Bertha began flying left, right, up, and down, as advanced piloting was employed by VIX and Marina in tandem.

  “Scanning.” The advanced sensor array could automatically detect the different operating components of an attacking vessel, identifying weak points for precision attacking.

  “Two Boeing AH-64 Apache Helicopters. Second class,” said VIX.

  “VIX, I want to disable but not destroy them. Prepare to attack and allow for a high chance of safe landing.”

  “Calculating.” Two latches opened at the rear of Bertha to reveal red fierce-looking machine guns.

  “VIX, fire when ready.”

  “Firing.” The two machine guns fired small high-velocity bullets. The Japanese helicopter weapons were quickly destroyed, and small internal fires caused havoc for the pilot. They broke off pursuit and headed downwards in a spiral.

  “Attacking aircraft are retreating,” said VIX.

  “Good, activate emergency propulsion systems. Throw everything we have into our speed,” ordered Marina. Two exhaust pipes appeared from small gaps in the rear of the chopper, blasting super-heated fuel.

  “ETA?” shouted Christopher as the noise from all the extra speed penetrated the cabin. He shook about, despite being strapped in tightly.

  “Less than ten minutes,” s
he shouted. “We’re crossing what’s left of Korea.”

  Christopher and Peter pulled the blinds up in the cabin, and the armor became completely transparent. All they saw was black, charred wasteland devoid of any form of life. American bombers had certainly been effective in destroying everything. Only skeletons remained of once-tall, strong buildings and towering skyscrapers.

  “Incoming missile,” said VIX.

  “Origin?” asked Marina.

  “USS Howard. United States Navy Advanced Destroyer. Type 52.”

  “Here we go again, guys,” she shouted. Christopher pulled the blinds back down, allowing the armor to revert to full strength. Marina began advanced evasive piloting.

  “VIX, target that incoming missile and launch countermeasures.” A small missile shot out from the side of Bertha. Instead of aiming to confuse the incoming missile, it headed straight for it. Seconds later, they impacted with a large fireball.

  “The threat has been neutralized, and we’re now out of attack range.” Marina pulled the main altitude lever toward her, and Bertha began ascending.

  “ETA?” asked Christopher.

  “Almost there. Get ready.”

  “Time to go,” he said. Suiting up, Peter and Christopher locked in their small handguns. No one, apart from Marina, was carrying larger weapons. She had an assault rifle strapped to her back.

  “Problem?” asked Christopher, spotting Peter’s awkward expression.

  “I’m a scientist, not a soldier. Isn’t exactly comfortable, is it?”

  Christopher rolled his eyes.

  Peter looked to Marina. “Where’s her body suit? I feel fifty pounds heavier with all this armor.”

  “I once asked her that during another mission.”

  “Her response?” asked Peter. He put a handgun in his trouser leg pocket.

  “Apparently, she’d rather die in style,” said Christopher.

  “And you accepted that?” said Peter in shock.

  “Peter,” said Christopher, patting him on the back, “sometimes you just need to accept the little quirks in people. Your temper, her coat, Freda’s hair, my chocolate… Everyone in Section 51 comes with them, that much I’ve noticed. Besides, we give up our lives to work for the betterment of humanity, in an underground base. Our quirks are all we’ve left. Ready in here, Marina.”