Maxwell cut him off. “Nice to meet you,” he said to the other men, then jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. “Sir, my orders are to retrieve you and get out of here in a damn hurry,
sir. I don’t have time to chat.”
Barker was taken aback for a moment, then nodded. “Of course they are. Once these people are safe.”
“Sir, I—”
“That’s an order,” Barker said. “These people saved my life; the least we can do is return the favor.”
Maxwell ground his teeth, then moved forward to the edge of the roof, glancing through the optical sight on his M4 rifle. “All units, we are now at Condition Bravo.” There was a soft
crack as the suppressor on his rifle muffled the noise. “Walker down. Clear west.” He turned back to the men on the rooftop. “Stay here, sir. We’ll take care of it.”
With that, he and Alpha Two hung briefly from the edge of the roof, then dropped to the ground. Spreading out, they formed the western end of an arc across the village, moving out into
the desert. Alpha Team moved quickly, their NVDs picking up and amplifying the ambient light, allowing them to see even the slightest of movement in the darkness as though it were noon.
Maxwell counted four more walkers of his own, with the other members of Alpha picking up two or three each. He shook his head, wondering how they could’ve walked into this, mentally promising to take Gardner down a peg or two when he got back for the bad intel, yet again. For now, though, it appeared that the incursion had been contained. “Alpha, report in.”
“Alpha Three, clear.”
“Alpha Five, clear.”
“Alpha One, clear.”
There was a pause, as everyone waited for Alpha Four to report. As the pause got longer, Maxwell got worried. Jonas was normally quick on the trigger, so to speak. “Alphas One, Three,
and Five, locate Alpha Four. We’re retrieving the package and will join you.” He signaled to Alpha Two and they ran back toward the southwest house, where Barker was waiting on the
ground with Tareq and Hassan. “Sir, we may have a problem. I need you to come with me now, sir.”
Barker nodded, then motioned to Tareq and Hassan. “Come with us.”
Maxwell groaned — on the inside — but said nothing as they all moved east to the last known position of Alpha Four. He certainly wasn’t going to slow down for either of the locals,
but as it turned out, the old man was keeping up without even breathing hard. Must be the desert air, Maxwell thought.
As they rounded the final corner, he called out, “Friendlies!” He took in the scene as he slowed and stopped; the other members of Alpha Team were standing over Alpha Four, propped
up in the open doorway of a house. Moving closer, Maxwell could see a crying child inside, held in the arms of an obviously frightened young woman. A man even older than Hassan stood
nearby, a fireplace poker held at the ready. Alpha Three, the team’s medic, finished examining Alpha Four, and glanced over at Maxwell as they ran up. Maxwell nodded to one side, and Alpha Three joined him, away from the others.
“I did what I could for him, major,” said the medic. “It’s a Code White.”
Maxwell swore. “How the hell did this happen?”
“Apparently that walker managed to almost get inside,” the medic said, motioning to the remains of a walker off to one side. Maxwell hadn’t even noticed it. Alpha Three continued. “He
grabbed the thing and threw it down, but in the struggle, he got tagged.”
“Have you—”
“Already taken care of it, major. He’ll have enough time to get back to the ship, and then it’ll be very quick. We’ll have him in sickbay before he goes, make him comfortable.”
“Damn, damn, damn! This isn’t supposed to happen to us, for shit’s sake!”
The medic didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, and he knew it. “Thanks. Round up everyone else, I want us out of here in five.”
“Yes, sir.”
Maxwell walked over to the stricken Kozac, squatting down to eye level. “What the hell, Jonas?”
Kozac grimaced, flexing his bandaged arm where the walker had bitten him. “Sorry, sir. I saw it breaking in, saw the little girl ... couldn’t shoot, what if it’d gone through the door? What would you have done, major?”
Maxwell shook his head. “The same damn thing, probably.”
“She’s no older than my little girl, major. I couldn’t—”
Maxwell held up a hand. “I get it. You know what happens now, right?”
Kozac went a little grey, but nodded. “I’ve still got time to help.”
“Damn right you do. Now get off your ass and let’s get out of here.” Maxwell stood, helping the wounded man to his feet.
The old man came to the door, the young woman looking over his shoulder, and began speaking quickly in Arabic. Hassan noticed and came over with Tareq and Barker following. He
held a hand on Kozac’s shoulder, keeping him there for a moment while the two talked.
“He says to tell you that he, his daughter, and his granddaughter owe you their lives,” Hassan said to Kozac. “He says he does not think he can ever repay you, but whatever you want, you may have.”
Kozac coughed and shook his head. “Please tell him thank you, but it’s not necessary.”
Hassan dutifully repeated the American’s words to the old man, who shook his head as well and spoke loudly. Hassan turned back to Kozac. “He is most insistent. He says he must
show you the proper respect.” The older man disappeared inside the home, and returned a moment later, holding out his hands to the young SEAL, who tried to refuse. Hassan spoke up again. “He will be insulted if you do not take the gift.”
Maxwell leaned in and whispered in Kozac’s ear. “Just take whatever it is. We need to get out of here.”
“Yes, sir,” said the SEAL, and took the gift from the old man. “Shukran,” he said.
Maxwell nodded and smiled at both of them, then spoke to Hassan. “Elder, we must leave. Dawn is coming soon.”
Hassan wasn’t the only one to suddenly glance at the lightening sky, and he nodded. “Yes, you must get John Barker away from here. It is likely the militia will be coming, after all
the gunfire. We cannot hide him.”
Maxwell held out a hand. “Good luck to you.”
“And you.”
Maxwell turned to find Barker peeling off the dirty jumpsuit he’d been wearing, handing it back to Tareq with a firm handshake. “As-salaam 'alaykum, Tareq,” Barker said.
Tareq nodded and smiled. “Wa 'alaykum salaam, friend John.”
Maxwell stepped to his side. “Sir, we have to go.”
Barker turned and shook hands with Hassan as well, then looked at Maxwell. “Let’s go.”
Finally, thought Maxwell as Alpha Team headed for the coast. I’m going to have Gardner’s head on a pike for this. He glanced over at Kozac, knowing the man was on borrowed
time. I might even do it myself, if I get the chance.
****
Captain’s Quarters
USS Forrestal
0630 Hours Local Time
There was a creak as Barker opened the hatch to the Captain’s Quarters, stepping inside. He closed the hatch behind him, then stood at attention.
“Commander Barker, reporting as ordered, sir,” he said.
“At ease, commander,” said Captain Armstrong, seated behind his desk. Armstrong was of medium height, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. “I trust you know Captain Batzler of
the Nimitz?” he asked, motioning to the man seated in one of the other two chairs in the room.
Captain Batzler stood up as Barker moved to shake his hand. Tall and thin, the captain was greying at the temples and had a no-nonsense way about him. “Only by reputation, sir,” said Barker, shaking the offered hand firmly. “Good to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, commander,” said Batzler.
Barker nodded to the SpecOps soldier, standing in the corner. “Major.”
“Commander.”
“Have a seat, commander,” said Armstrong, hitting a button on his desk phone as Barker sat down. “Are you there, Mr. Gardner?” There was a pause, and then a voice came from the speaker.
“I’m here, captain. Thank you for facilitating this meeting. Or should I say captains? I assume your compatriot is also in attendance?”
“I am, Mr. Gardner,” said Batzler. “Let’s get on with it. I have a ship to run.”
“Yes, indeed,” said the voice. “One more item to check off, though: Major Maxwell, are you there?”
“I’m here, Gardner. Like the captain said, get on with it.”
“Very well. Commander Barker, you are in a very unique position, in that you now hold knowledge that could be highly detrimental to the well-being of the United States. In short, you
could, if not properly handled, pose a serious threat to National Security.”
“I see,” said Barker, not sure exactly what was going on. Who the hell is this guy? “And you are…whom, exactly?”
“Oh, my apologies. I thought that had been explained. My name is Henry Gardner.”
“Let me guess, you’re a civilian contractor.”
“In a manner of speaking. Now, as to—”
“Because, like nearly every other defense contractor I’ve ever met, your answers to straightforward questions are either evasive, lies, or provide so little information as to be
pointless.” Barker could’ve sworn he heard a snort from Maxwell, but ignored it. “Let’s try this again: who are you?”
There was a pause, and when Gardner came back on the line, his tone was considerably colder. “For now, commander, all you need to know is that your ultimate fate is in my hands. Do not test the limits of my patience again.”
Captain Armstrong was giving him the fisheye, so Barker sat back in the chair and said nothing.
“Very well,” continued Gardner. “As I was saying, you’re in something of a unique position. Outside of the men in that room with you, only a handful of other people - less than a
hundred, out of the entire population of the United States - knows what you know.”
“And what is it that I know, Mr. Gardner?” Barker asked, although he was sure he could guess.
“That zombies are real.”
“So, I was right. That’s what they were.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed. There’s a bit more to it than that. You see, we can’t just have people with this knowledge running about all willy-nilly. It’s ... untidy. So you have a choice: either be remanded to our custody, and spend the rest of your career - if not your life - working for us, or continue doing what you’re doing now, but never saying anything about what you’ve seen.”
“That hardly seems like a choice.”
“Very astute observation, commander. There are a one or two caveats you should be aware of, should you choose the latter option, however. One: if you ever tell anyone the truth of what you’ve seen, you will disappear.”
The finality of the statement left no illusions in Barker’s mind as to what Gardner meant.
I won’t disappear, I’ll be disappeared into some deep, dark hole ... yeah, no. He thought of his beautiful wife and their four children, the newest barely a month old. “And the second caveat?” he asked.
“Should we need your expertise for an assignment, you will be called upon, wherever you are, whatever your current station is, you will be requisitioned.”
And doesn’t that just sound lovely, thought Barker. He says it like I’m a piece of spare equipment, sitting in a drawer. And perhaps to him, that’s all I am.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Not at this time. Are we agreed?”
Barker didn’t even have to think about it, the mental image of his family still strong in his imagination. “Yes, we’re agreed.”
“Excellent! Major Maxwell will provide you with some additional briefing material on our organization, which you will destroy immediately upon committing it to memory. Protocols,
contact procedures, that sort of thing. You are not cleared to discuss this matter with anyone not affiliated with AEGIS. Is that clear?”
“Clear. What’s AEGIS?”
“The major will fill you in, as I said. Major?”
“Here,” said Maxwell.
“I understand Mr. Kovac did not survive the mission.”
“No, he did not. He was Code White on scene, and terminated upon return to the ship.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gardner said, and Barker didn’t think he’d ever heard a more complete lie in his life. If Gardner cares about anything, it’s not about the guys he’s apparently
putting in harms’ way. “Please return the body as per standard protocols.”
“Acknowledged. Will there be anything else?”
“Not at this time. Good day, captains, commander, major.” There was a click and the line went dead.
“I hate that guy,” said Barker and Maxwell almost in the same breath. Barker continued first. “Sir,” he said, turning to Captain Armstrong. “I get why I’m here, and why the major is, but why are you two here?” he asked, indicating Batzler.
“We’re here,” said Batzler. “Because we were briefed before deploying. Libya is something of a ‘walker hotspot,’ from what Gardner said. Not that I believe anything that man
says.”
“It’s true, captain,” said Maxwell. “We’ve been getting some pretty scary intel out of this region for awhile. Nothing like what we saw last night, though.”
“And your man, Kovac?” asked Armstrong. “He’s dead? From a bite?”
“No, sir.”
“But you said—”
“He’s dead, sir, certainly. But it wasn’t the bite that killed him.”
“Then—”
“I killed him, sir.” Before Armstrong could interrupt again, Maxwell came over to the desk and leaned on it with both hands, the bunched and knotted muscles visible under the skin
beneath his rolled-up uniform sleeves. “Let me stop you there, sir, and commander, you’ll need to know this, so listen up, sir. There is no cure. There is no treatment. If you get bitten, you die. It’s that simple."
“What I did for Jonas Kovac was what I would do for anyone here, and what I would want done for me. It’s a toxin, experimental, insanely expensive to produce, and in very short
supply. It allows the victim to continue functioning at a high level of efficiency, but only for a short time. After that, they drift off to sleep, and never wake up. It hasn’t been approved for field use yet, hence the test.”
He stood up and walked to the hatch. “But it’s a damn sight better than turning into one of them. Commander, I’ll have the briefing packet delivered to your quarters by one of my men.
See that you don’t lose it. And welcome home.” He turned, securing the hatch behind him.
“Any questions, commander?” asked Armstrong.
“Just one, sir.”
“Oh?”
“I’d like some leave, sir. My baby girl was born just under a month ago. What with this ... well, I need to remember what I’m fighting for, sir.”
“Under the circumstances, I think we can make that happen, commander. What’s her name?”
“Catherine, sir. Her name’s Catherine.”
****
Maxwell Recreational Hall
Austin Green Zone
Z-Day + 22 Years
The young boy squirmed on his lap, and John tickled him again. The older boys weren’t so easily distracted, though.
“What happened then?” one of them asked.
“What happened? Well, I went home, met my daughter, and lived my life.”
“Did you ever see walkers again?”
“Not until I joined your parents in Bunker Eight, Jeremy.”
“Was Gardner as bad as they say?” asked the boy.
“Oh, that he was, and worse. Did I ever tell you—”
The door to the rec hall slammed open, and General Frank Anderson entered, with the normal entourage he didn’t seem able to shake these days. Commander John Barker - retired -
chuckled, and shook his head. Glad that’s not me, he thought. It took a second for him to realize that the general was headed straight for him, and he put the boy down, standing as the head of Bunker Eight’s military forces walked up. Even though he kept in good shape for his age, being that he was on the wrong side of 70, it took longer to stand than he’d have liked.
Fight the MonSter: Find a Cure for MS Page 11
