by Julie Rowe
Special Forces soldiers sometimes claimed to be supermen. Maybe this time, this one was.
“He’s waking up,” Max warned. “Talk to him, Hunt. Hearing is the first sense to come back. Make sure he knows he’s safe or he could damage himself or us as he comes around.”
“Nolan, boss, it’s Hunt. Are you with me?”
“Be ready to help hold Nolan down,” Max said in an undertone to Ali. “Most people don’t react well to surgery without anesthetic.”
“Can we strap him down?”
“That might make things worse.”
Nolan continued to moan and Max worked faster, placing a non-stick abdominal pad over the incision and holding it in place with a pressure bandage he wrapped around Nolan’s waist.
“Sergeant Nolan,” Hunt said loudly into the soldier’s ear. “Give me a clue, man, are you back?”
Nolan’s eyelids fluttered then rose and he blinked at Hunt, who put himself directly in Nolan’s line of sight. “Hunt?”
“Yes,” Hunt said with a relieved smile. “You made it, you crazy son of a bitch.”
“Made it?” Nolan frowned. “What happened?”
“You took one in the kidney, but Max just sewed you back together.”
“Oh?” He continued to blink, confusion all too evident on his face. He looked around, watched Max as he got everything out of the way and Stone covered him with his own clothing. “Stone? What happened?”
“You played Pied Piper with way too many bad guys,” she answered drily.
“Oh.” He relaxed, seeming to be satisfied with that explanation.
Hunt’s expression went from surprised to worried. He opened his mouth, but Max spoke first.
“Where are you, Sergeant Nolan?”
“Fort Bragg?”
“How do you feel?” Max asked, looking at Hunt and pointing at the blood pressure cuff.
Hunt took the hint without further prompting.
“A little fuzzy.” His eyes sagged shut, then they popped open again. “Where are we?”
“Seventy-five over forty-nine. Heart rate elevated.” Hunt had no need to say anything else. The numbers alone were bad enough.
Max took his penlight and shone it in Nolan’s eyes. They both reacted normally but there was a clamminess to Nolan’s skin that triggered an alarm deep in Max’s head. “Open your mouth, please, and say ah.”
The routine question received immediate compliance.
Nolan’s tongue looked like a squeezed lemon.
Dehydration. The man might be conscious right now, but he wouldn’t stay that way without more fluids.
He might not even stay alive.
Nolan’s eyes closed again and his body relaxed.
“Sergeant Nolan?” Max said.
No response.
“Nolan,” Hunt said a little louder. He gave Nolan’s shoulder a shake.
No response.
“Can we give him another unit?”
“We used them all,” Hunt reported.
“Get a bag of saline,” Max ordered. “He’s on the verge of dying of hypovolemic shock.”
Ali ran over to the medical supplies and grabbed a bag of the fluid.
Max hung it and got it dripping into Nolan. Dripping wasn’t going to do it. He opened the valve on the tubing all the way and squeezed the bag to send a gush of saline into the man’s veins.
“Heart rate?” Max asked.
Hunt put his fingers on Nolan’s carotid artery. “Still fast.” He began taking a blood pressure reading without being asked. He let the air out of the cuff slowly, frowned and inflated it a second time. “I can’t get a reading.”
“Shit,” Ali said, her voice subdued. One glance told Max she wasn’t surprised, but she was very, very sad.
Hunt read her expression too. “We’re not going to lose him,” he growled.
Yes, they were, but not everyone had to watch. Max squeezed the bag of saline. “Hunt, get me an update on our situation.”
“What?”
Max thrust his chin in the direction of the doorway. “Check in with Jessup and our guests.”
Hunt’s face hardened and he tried to take another blood pressure reading. “I don’t need to go anywhere to know our situation fucking sucks.”
“It wasn’t a request,” Max told him. He’d give the soldier some slack, but only so much.
“Seventy-six over fifty-two.”
Max squeezed the last of the saline into Nolan, then checked the man’s carotid pulse.
He couldn’t find it.
He leaned down, pushed away the clothing covering the injured man and put his ear over Nolan’s heart.
Nothing.
“Cardiac arrest,” Max said. “Ali, bring the defibrillator.”
She rushed to get it while he began chest compressions.
As soon as she returned, Max started charging the machine and got the pads in place. “Clear.”
Hunt and Ali stood back and Max hit the shock button.
Nothing.
He charged the machine again. It took eight long seconds, while Hunt did chest compressions and Ali breathed for the injured man, for it to be ready. “Clear.”
Again everyone stepped back.
No response.
Hunt resumed chest compressions. Max hit Charge again and checked Nolan’s eyes while waiting the eight seconds. No reaction from his pupils.
“Clear,” Max said when the machine was ready. He shocked Nolan again.
Still no response.
Max glanced at Ali, who shook her head.
Max had to agree. Nolan was gone.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Hunt said as he did chest compressions. “Charge that thing.”
“He’s gone, Sergeant.”
“He’s not gone,” Hunt snarled. “Do your fucking job.”
“Max is right,” Ali said to Hunt. “Nolan lost too much blood. It was a miracle he woke up at all. It’s time to let him go.”
Hunt ignored her, kept pumping Nolan’s chest, but after another minute, he finally stopped. He sneered at Ali. “You’re just as warm as your name. Do you give a shit about anything?” He walked away before she could respond.
She stood in place, ramrod straight.
“He’s wrong, Ali. You’re a strong woman, but never cold, never inflexible.”
She sighed and turned to look at Nolan’s body. “Sometimes I wonder if guys like him are right.”
“Don’t,” Max ordered. “Don’t wonder, because there’s one thing he doesn’t understand right now. Maybe later he will, but at this moment, he can’t understand. He’s emotionally invested in saving Nolan. We all were to a degree, but no doctor or nurse could ever do their job effectively if they can’t set aside their emotions while they’re working. If we don’t we die a little with every patient. We suffer their wounds, their trauma. It wouldn’t take very long for one of two things to happen.”
He held up one finger. “Depression and suicide. Or two—” he held up a second finger “—we literally go crazy. You know how to create that emotional buffer, but Hunt has failed to cope. He’s going to need help when we get back to the world.”
“He’ll probably fight it.”
“He can fight it all he wants. I will ensure he gets the counseling he needs.”
Her shoulders were still hunched, making her look defeated. “And we just used up the blood you needed to make your treatment.”
“It was a long shot anyway. I’ve already started culturing the virus in the eggs you brought me. Hopefully in twenty-four hours, I’ll have enough to test a vaccine.”
“I thought you said forty-eight hours?”
“I did, but I don’t know how long I’v
e got, so I’m going to accelerate things as much as I can.” He gave her a small, quick smile. “If you find more eggs, I can start a second batch.”
“What about the supply drop you ordered? Isn’t that due soon?”
“Shit, yes it is.”
“I have an idea,” she said.
He smiled. “Give it to me.”
“Ask Ferhat if we can send out the kids to collect eggs. No one is going to think twice about seeing them doing that.”
Max considered and quickly decided she was right. “Okay, you meet the drop. I’ll talk to Ferhat about getting the eggs.”
Things were moving fast now and Nolan was dead.
“Can you keep watch while I brief Tom, Jessup, Thompson, Holland and the other new guy?”
“Warren. Yes, sir.” She glanced at Nolan. “What about the body?”
“We’ve got a few to collect, damn it.” There was a lot that needed to be done, with no time right now to do it. “I’ll wrap Nolan and put him next to Bull.”
“Yes, sir.” She moved to the door. “Are you...okay?”
He quirked up one side of his mouth. “Never surrender, never give up.”
She didn’t smile in return, but the concerned frown lightened and she left.
He found an old blanket and wrapped Nolan’s body in it. Just as he finished, Jessup and Thompson came in. They picked up Nolan’s body without saying a word and took it out of Max’s lab. When they came back a minute later, Tom, Hunt, Holland and Warren came with them. Aside from Ali, every American soldier he had left alive was present.
“Our situation has changed. We’re down too many people to attempt any other military intervention outside this building. We have a few civilians we can shelter, but I won’t authorize any other forays outside unless it’s to obtain supplies.”
“What about your vaccine?”
“It’s cooking now. It needs twenty-four hours minimum. Forty-eight would be better.”
“What about Stone?” Jessup asked. “She said she’s going out to meet the drop.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Sir, I volunteer to go with her.” Jessup shifted his weight slightly.
Max raised a brow at him.
He nodded. “The buddy system.”
“Ah, then yes. Go with Stone.” He released a breath. “I think we’ve entered a deep game.”
“It’s Akbar, isn’t it?” Hunt said, his voice rough.
“I think so.” Max smiled now, but he knew it wasn’t a happy one. He was showing teeth. “There’s one thing that Akbar seems to have forgotten.”
“What’s that?” Thompson asked.
“He’s attempting to control the uncontrollable. Most bacteria we come in contact with are harmless, some are even helpful, and only a few are dangerous. Viruses are not bacteria. Most cause disease or have the potential to cause disease. They are quick to adapt and change. Much quicker than bacteria. Much, much quicker than us.”
“He’s playing with fire,” Hunt said.
“Yes, and unfortunately, we might all get burned.”
“He’s crazy,” Thompson said.
“Certifiable, but he’s also smart and he has no fear for his own life at all. He’s almost as dangerous as the virus that’s killing the people in this village.”
Thompson snorted. “Then I hope the damned virus wipes his ass off the planet.”
“That would be justice in action, wouldn’t it?” Max asked rhetorically. “So, now you know. We’re facing a madman with a weapon that could wipe out millions of people if it gets out of this place.”
Hunt’s laugh was cold. “Now give us the bad news.”
“Thirty-five percent is a conservative estimate.”
“Dude,” Hunt said. “Are you always so wicked literal?”
“Ask my ex-wife. She claims I have no sense of humor at all.”
The men all relaxed.
“Say no more, man,” Hunt said. “Every ex-wife says that.”
Ali would be proud of him, bonding with the men under his command. She’d probably find it hilarious.
“I’m sending the two boys out to collect more eggs. I want to start a second culture of the virus so if the first works, there will be more ready a day or so later.”
A couple of the men winced, but no one voiced any concerns.
Coban came running into the room, yelling, “A plane crashed outside the village!”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alicia’s stomach churned as she ran for the entrance of the building and its wide windows, Max a few steps in front of her. The rest of the team, what there was left of it, crowded around the windows when they reached the trashed reception area.
The smoke from the crash was easily visible down the valley, but that was all they could see.
“We need to get higher,” she said to Max.
“Take Jessup with you,” he said, pinning her in place with a gaze that was one part horror, one part fear and all the way angry. “I want a report in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” She glanced at Jessup, who nodded at her.
“You know a good spot?”
“Yeah.”
“Lead the way, Kemosabe.”
“Call me that again and I will kick your ass,” she said in a mild tone most women would use to chastise a four-year-old.
His lips twitched, but he managed not to smile. Good for him. She was in the mood to kick some more ass. She looked at Max again and had to force herself not to react to the change in his face.
Before, he’d been all military, concerned for the team and for the situation. Now, there was a heat in his gaze that made her want to crawl all over him. If there’d been any chance to do it without an audience, she’d have done it.
Instead, she had to stuff her need to reassure him, that she could do this—was in fact, the best soldier to do this—and hope he read between the lines.
“Ten minutes,” she said, her voice huskier than was professional. “I promise.”
His nostrils flared and she knew he wanted to say something, but he looked so damned combustible she was afraid anything he said would blow up the fiction that they weren’t involved to smithereens.
So, she left before he could comment. Left with Jessup on her heels and a single-minded focus of getting the intel they needed and back again as fast as possible.
Despite the speed of her departure, she hadn’t sacrificed stealth, making sure no one was following them as they worked their way up the mountain. It took only four minutes to reach the spot she’d used before for reconnaissance. Only a few seconds to determine that the news was all bad.
“Does that look like a drone aircraft?” she asked Jessup as she sighted down the scope on her weapon.
He was doing the same. “Yep, one of ours.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “When is that drop supposed to happen?”
“About thirty minutes.”
“This couldn’t be that plane, could it?”
“Maybe this one was taking pictures for the desk pilots at the base.”
“Fuck, I hope so.”
They both watched armed men swarm the smoking wreckage, then walk away with pieces of the machine.
“Fuck, that’s not good,” Jessup whispered. “There’s a lot of technology on those birds.”
“Hopefully nothing they can use right away.”
“Seen enough?”
“Yeah.” She broke cover and they made their way back to the battered-looking building they’d taken over.
Jessup was silent for most of the way, but about a minute out he asked, “Do you think Max can cook up a vaccine that will work?”
She glanced at him, but he was watching their perimeter. “If anyone can, it’ll be
Max. Or are you really asking if any of us are going to survive this killer flu?”
“That too, I guess.”
“I don’t know.” She continued to watch her own perimeter while taking quick glances at Jessup. How worried was he? “I do know that Max hasn’t given up and neither have I.”
“Don’t get your thong in a bunch, Stone, I’ve just never seen a bug kill this many people so fast. There can’t be much doubt that it’s a weapon.”
She was going to ignore the thong comment. “Was the Black Death a weapon? Was the Spanish flu? Both of them killed large portions of the population, and both were naturally occurring pandemics. Until we know for sure, we can’t assume anything.”
“Well, aren’t you the voice of reason.”
“What the fuck is with the sarcasm?” she asked, out of patience for male bullshit.
“I thought since you’re banging the colonel you’d have some intel the rest of us don’t.” It was said in a casual tone, the kind a guy used to talk about the weather. That just made it a bigger insult.
Hmm, punch him, shoot him...punch him, shoot him? “You are, without a doubt, a moron,” she told him.
Jessup shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”
“Go fuck yourself. I don’t assume you’re fucking the man in front of you when you’re nut-to-butt in the dirt, do I?”
“Yeah, but—”
She cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Here’s a newsflash, I don’t work with morons.”
He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She didn’t bother answering. They reached the hospital and went inside. Max and the rest of the team were waiting for them.
“It looks like a drone.” She kept her tone tightly professional. “It’s too early for it to be the drop aircraft. This one might have been scouting. The machine is already being picked over by scavengers.”
“Not good news, but not really bad news,” Max said. “For the moment, anyway. How many men did you see picking through the debris?”
“About a dozen, which isn’t very many.” She thought about that for a moment. “Either we’ve put a serious dent in the bad guys, or a lot of them are sick.”
“Or dead.” Max glanced at his watch, then nodded at her. “You’d better get to the drop site.”
