Gabriel: Only one gets out alive.

by mike Evans

  Both men pounded their chests and turned and ran out of sight. Imad and the other four men forced the hostages out of the room and down the hall. The non-elected speaker for the group asked, “Where are we going? If you don’t want anything from us what reason do you have to keep us, damn it? This is America and we have rights here. We have rights, damn you!”

  Imad thought about the tests and realized they did not need quite this many people. He gripped the man by the back of his collar, turned him, and pushed him back into the conference room. He said, “The reason that we had taken them is because we mean to kill you. We have been using your facility for quite some time with the help of its owners and scientists. You Americans did not see us because we were just lowly janitors, cooks, and mechanics; men like you felt that we did not warrant your respect.”

  The man was looking increasingly nervous being alone with him. “Then what were you doing all these months?”

  Imad smiled and brought out a large tactical knife, showing it to the man who flinched at the sight of it so near his face. He tried to put his hands up in front of his face, but they were zip tied behind his back and made it an impossible feat to be done. “That is a very easy question with a very complicated answer. We brought an Iranian scientist here; he is a genius of a man. We have modified a disease to kill all of your people. You will all die and there will be no survivors.”

  “What do you mean all of my people? Are you talking about a biological attack on America?”

  “Yes. And you… well, not you so much, but your colleagues, have all got a special part to play today. Depending on the outcome, there is a good chance that we will be able to move forth with it very, very soon.”

  The man said, “You are going to use us as test subjects?”

  Imad brought the knife up quickly, slicing through the front of the man’s neck. Blood poured from it, changing the color of his shirt forever and the man’s fate. Imad smiled and wiped the blade on the man's suit coat. “You did not listen; you will not be a subject. No, you will just die. Consider this a gift. The pain that your friends will incur is going to be much more painful to deal with.”

  The man opened his mouth to attempt to speak, but only blood came out, gurgling his words. Imad pushed the man over, smiling, looking at his blade, and thinking of how very primitive the kill had been. “If only it could have been this easy, then my father would be here today to bask in our glory with us.”

  He stared into the man’s eyes and watched the light in them fade away into nothing.

  *****

  Imad walked quickly to catch up to the group. He knew he was close when he heard the pleas and whimpering of the walking dead. There would be no place in the world to hide, once he unleashed this on society. There would be consequences to hell and back for the actions that he would set in motion today. He believed in Allah and knew that he was on the mission of the righteous and Allah would take care of them. Allah would see to it that they would survive today and many more days to come. Imad knew that if he could unleash this on America, then the rest of the world would be much easier to conquer. The interconnected Europe would crumble. The dead would lie in the streets, spreading their diseases to others.

  As Imad caught up to them, the hostages were refusing to go into the sterile room. Imad screamed at them, waving his pistol in the air. They figured they would die by these men’s hands one way or another. Imad walked up and pistol-whipped two of the men across the back of their heads, making their legs go limp and falling to the ground. Imad screamed at his men, “Are you trying to let them get away and escape, damn it? Get these fools into the room now! We are too close to fail! Unless, of course, you would like to take their places?”

  The men looked at each other nervously and gripped the fallen men by their necks and threw them into the room. The hostages screamed and punched on the double-sided mirror in the observation room. Imad’s men held their guns on them while the others secured the doors.

  Dr. Abul watched as the men and women were marched into the room. It was a clean room with zero germs. They had made sure it was perfect. There was a ventilation filter to keep the germs, and any air breathed in and out, from going into the rest of the facility or the outside. Even though the facility was far enough out in the middle of nowhere, they still were not ready to make the country crumble.

  They went to the observation room that housed Dr. Abul. He was sitting, looking over his final check of the research. Imad walked over and grabbed them from him before he could finish his notes. “Do you have it working now?” Imad asked.

  The doctor looked up, more tired and with more loss than he had ever felt in his life. He longed for his days in Iran with his family and wife. He remembered back when they were all happy and alive, living simple day-to-day existences. On nights when his captors allowed him to sleep, his dreams were nightmares, plagued with the sight of his wife being shot in the head in front of his own eyes.

  Imad stared intently at the research papers before saying anything else. “This research is good; this is very good. I think you have finally made a breakthrough, doctor. We have some more specimens to try your virus on.”

  Akbar looked up curiously. The window curtains were pulled closed and the glass was so thick that a truck could smash into. He said, “Yes I need to get more rabbits or rats please. I have gotten rid of almost all of them, and very soon I will be out.”

  “The men said that you are almost done. That is, if you are not done with the disease already.”

  The doctor stood, pushing up and away from the desk. He stretched his back and cracked his neck and fingers. “Yes, I believe we are near completion. I do not think that we need very much longer before you are ready, sir.”

  “Doctor, are you trying to postpone the inevitable? How much longer do you think we’ll wait for you to accomplish what you are working towards?”

  “Imad, I do not know how many more threats I can handle. I have lived in fear every day of my life since the day that you came into it. I do not need this; my children are living in darkness, not knowing their father—why they never see me or their mother. Why they aren’t in a home. So, please don’t take this for disrespect when I say that I think an existence in death, at this point, would be much less than what I am going through today.”

  Imad shook his head, smiling. “It is too bad that you aren’t having fun anymore. I wish that you were still enjoying yourself. You are going to be the most famous of scientists that have ever lived. Everyone will know who you are and exactly what it was that you did. They are going to cheer your name in our homeland and fear your existence in all others. They will not know what to do to survive or what they can do to hide. They will perish while we rise to greatness.”

  “My children, Imad. That is all that I care about. I do not want any credit for the evil that I’ve put together. There will be almost no one left once this has taken place. I want to see my children. I want to know how we are going to get out of the United States once this takes place.”

  Imad walked to the window and turned around. He smiled and said, “Your children are safe; we have kept them that way because we believe in you. I did not ever say anything about a ride back from the United States. I only promised you a ride here; I never said anything about you getting back home. You doctors, you are all so greedy.”

  As the doctor rose to his feet, Imad pointed his gun at him. “After all of this, do you want to leave your children orphans and alone? Is that what you want? You have done enough that I think either way we will be able to figure out what we need to do so that we can send the disease out.”

  He sat back down and raised his hands in defeat. “I am sorry. I will do what you ask; I cannot put my children through this. I must do what I can and I will do everything to try and get them back to Iran where they will have a chance to be safe. Are you planning on anywhere but America? I wish that you would reconsider this, but I know that you will not.”

  “After a year of pleading, I w
ould think that you would give up.” He pointed a finger up and down. “But you are one persistent son of a bitch, I give you credit for that. Your passion is what drives you. I am confident it is also what will kill you one day. Now, I want you to give me a sample of the drug for the clean room.”

  The doctor went to a large container, dipping in a small glass tube that held no more than two ounces of the potent liquid. He lifted it back out steadily and carefully, giving it the utmost respect that it deserved. He screwed on a top and pushed it into the wall to the observatory. He nodded to Imad, pointing to the button on the wall that would turn it into a gas form. “It is ready, Imad. Do you already have the animals in the room?”

  Imad smiled and nodded while he hit the button that would turn the liquid into a gas state. After it had a moment to begin filling the room, he opened the curtain. As the doctor peered into the dark room, Imad hit the lights, revealing the large group of people inside the room. They did not know what the cool mist was that was falling on their skin, but they were confident that nothing good would come out of tonight. The doctor screamed when he saw the people, tears instantly filling his eyes as he yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you brought me specimens!”

  Imad said, “Oh, but I did; the best kind.”

  “You have what you need, then. You have enough of it to end the world. Can I leave with my children, Imad… please? I have done everything that you…”

  Imad laughed. “Of course, you cannot leave. We must sit together and watch the outcome. You would be heartbroken if you did not get to see the fruits of your labor in their final stages, would you not?”

  Dr. Abul shook his head slowly, “No… no Imad, I believe that I can make do without seeing their pain.”

  Imad pointed at a metal seat. “Sit. I have grown tired of speaking to you. Always the same, never wanting to do anything. You never see the vision that we have. I think there is something wrong with your beliefs in Allah.”

  The doctor sat down, staring in shock and praying that when he was let go, he’d be able to find a sanctuary for himself and his children. He wanted to immediately begin a search for a cure. He knew if the time allowed it, he would have a chance. But he didn’t believe that Imad was a man of patience, nor that he would wait that long to release this death on America.

  Imad selected a chair and sat in it. He motioned with a rolling finger and the man behind the camera smiled. Imad said, “Good evening, ladies and gentleman of America and across the world. My name is Imad and I am the leader of the organization named Allah’s Hand. We were sent here, to your country, to help with the infestation of filth and scum. We are here to help cleanse your country. You will thank us, if your God allows you into the heaven that you believe in. The disease that we have cannot be stopped. It cannot be cured, and you will have no chance of escaping it. It will travel faster than anything you could ever imagine. I hope that in your next life, you can avoid the sins that you will pay for today.”

  The cameraman gave a thumbs up, then down when he saw a message that he did not understand flashing on the message system. “I do not know what this is saying, Imad. I do not know if we were able to get what you wanted.”

  Imad rose to his feet and looked at the message. “The battery is low, you son of a whore.” He let out a short breath. “You would die if we were home. You know that, do you not, Mohammed?”

  The man nodded his head. “Yes, and I would be deserving of it as well, Imad. A thousand apologies to you, Imad. I am very sorry. I will learn how to use it before we attack Europe.”

  Imad smiled, nodding his head slowly. “We will be making a lot of these videos, and I will need you to learn your jobs. I will need all of you to learn your damn jobs.”

  The men nodded, watching the people in the room. Their faces were turning blotchy and red rashes were spreading on their skin. Imad yelled, “How long does this take to work?”

  The doctor got up from his chair and approached the window slowly. He stared at the hostages, watching their eyes. He turned around, knowing that he would be going to hell for what he had done here. “It has started. Their skin will turn red, followed by rashes and sores. They will get a fever and go into convulsions. Then their brains will spasm and they will die.”

  “Yes, but how long do they have left before they are free from their sin?”

  The doctor stared, single tears at first followed by many more making their way down his dark cheeks. He stared through the two-sided mirror, thinking of his children and wondering if he had made the right choice. He wasn’t even confident that Imad would free him when he saw the end results of his modified disease. He placed his palm to the mirror, wishing to reach out and cure them. He smiled, thinking about his wife and found her voice in the back of his head, telling him that he was going to find a way to resolve the problem and that he would not be punished for what he had done. He was going to be forgiven by Allah because he was doing right by his family. Imad saw him smiling and took it wrong. He pointed at the doctor, yelling to his men, “Would you look at the humanitarian doctor! He is finally showing he has something between his legs. He likes it. Now, doctor, how long until the effects take place?”

  He stopped smiling as he looked up at all of the men, so proud of themselves and none feeling any remorse about the horrible things that they had just done. He stared for a moment at Imad and then looked back at the hostages. He looked down at his chart and realized that it was working much faster than he had expected it to. He looked up. “It is supposed to take days, but it appears to be taking effect much quicker than intended.”

  Imad looked through the window, a smile from ear to ear and clapped his hands in pure delight. He could not have been more pleased by this news. “How long do you think until they are completely taken out by the virus, doctor? I thought original plans would be weeks.”

  Doctor Abul turned around, shrugging. “Did you want me to take a few more weeks with the research? I might able to make the incubation period in people go longer. If they live longer, they would suffer more. If you just let me know what you want, it is my desire to obey. You know that I will do anything at this point to get my children back.”

  Imad held up his hands yelling loudly. “No! Don’t do anything stupid, doctor! If they can die quicker, that is best. We will have to spread it through the nation so it will fall faster than expected. This is good news, not bad.”

  After a few hours, they watched the people, no longer upright but resting against the walls. They were covered with sweat, their clothes damp from it, and the men had unbuttoned their once crisp dress shirts. Imad was walking on clouds at this point. His every plan was coming to fruition. He knew if his father could see what was happening, he would be in awe that America would finally be taken to its knees. He packed the briefcase with the contents of the disease. They had divided them into fifteen different containers, each one rigged with a timer. When the timers went off, the virus would be sent into the airways spreading it everywhere, turning the deadly liquid into an even more deadly gas form.

  Dr. Abul looked at the briefcase and asked, “You have many containers there, Imad. What do you plan to do with all of them?”

  “Very simple. We will be going across America; we will be going to the largest corporations in New York, California, Boston, Texas, Florida, and others. Not only will America, fall but its economy will as well. If there is no one able to do the work, the stock market will crash it will be a thing of pure beauty.”

  The doctor sat on the edge of the desk thinking about it all. He looked up nodding, “Imad, that is actually genius. You would cripple everything associated to America. People would not be allowed to get assistance from America. The countries that relied on them as a crutch no longer would be able to stand and would also fall.”

  Imad’s men smiled, proudly knowing in their hearts that they would be with Allah one day and treated as kings. Imad gave each of the men a quick embrace. Mohammed was the only one to go with him. As t
hey were leaving, one of the men asked, “What about the doctor and his children, sir? What do you want us to do about them?”

  Imad smiled, looking at the man, staring at him because his life depended on it. “We do not want him coming up with a cure, even if it would not be immediate. When these people die, I want you to kill them all. You can give him a dose of his own drug, but I do not want anything happening to the family until we know that it will work.”

  Doctor Abul said, “But you told me that if and when I was able to do what you asked, you would let us go. Do you have no honor? Do you believe in nothing?”

  Imad shrugged, “I owe you nothing. You are no better than one of them. It would seem by the looks of the patients that you have hours left to live, at best. Let him have a moment with his children before you give them all the drug. I don’t want anyone saying that I do not have a heart.”

  The four men staying laughed at this as Imad and Mohammed left to go on their chosen path.

  *****

  Jonathan saw what Gabriel was talking about and set the helicopter down on the opposite end of a field. He hadn’t needed Gabriel to point out the obvious and tell him that he should take the giant craft behind a bed of trees to land. Gabriel had barely let the chopper set down when he was already sliding the door open.

  Jonathan knew what he had to do and disliked the thought of drawing gunfire or attention, but at the same time, knew that if this unthinkable drug came to fruition and spread, there would be little he could do to save his own son. He stared at Gabriel for a moment, thinking that he was most likely America’s last hope. He knew there would be nothing bullets could do to fight the evil that they had created in that building.

  Gabriel got out and handed Jonathan one of the walkie-talkies he’d taken. “Stay on channel three. If you’re alive when we get out of this, then I might need a ride. We don’t know if they are even still there.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’m going to go out for a half hour and come back in buzzing the building. It should give you plenty of time to make it in there. Is there anything else that I can do for you? Do you need me to do anything to help besides that?”