The Death Trilogy (Book 2): The Death: Eradicate

by John W. Vance

  Lori had tried to eat but found it impossible. Her appetite was completely gone. She caught David’s hateful gaze but ignored it.

  The dinner finished with shallow but pleasant conversation between Horton, David and Eric. Lori stayed quiet except for the few times she acknowledged a question, and then it was just a yes or no answer.

  A range of emotions ran through her as she watched her husband and son. They seemed like strangers in some ways. A distance she hadn’t felt before was between them, and she hated it.

  The chef appeared one more time but now presented a cake. The three-tiered cake was covered in a thick chocolate frosting, and on the very top written in icing was ‘Welcome Home, Lori’.

  Seeing the cake and inscription, Lori clenched her jaw.

  “Who wants a piece of cake?” Horton asked.

  “I do, I do!” Eric said, sounding like a kid.

  “Why not? It looks delicious,” David said.

  Lori sat speechless, and when Horton insisted, she shook her head.

  “Very well, two slices of cake,” Horton said and nodded to the chef, who promptly cut the cake and laid it on small plates in front of David and Eric.

  Like the dinner, Lori remained quiet while David, Eric and Horton chatted.

  For Lori, the time seemed to drag on forever. With the attempt to poison him gone, she needed to find a way to do it but how and when. His suspicions were raised now that he knew she had made an attempt.

  David patted his belly and leaned back against the tall dining chair. “That was so good. What was the sauce on the pork?”

  “It was a truffle reduction sauce, but I had the chef add a surprise ingredient tonight courtesy of Lori.”

  “What was it?” David asked.

  Lori looked at David, and then pivoted towards Horton, her brow curled and skin ashen.

  Horton looked at Lori and said, “Please, Lori, share with us all, what was the special ingredient?”

  She didn’t need to ask him what he was referring to, she knew. Her body grew rigid, and tears began to stream down her face.

  Horton abruptly stood and signaled to a camera in the corner.

  A half-dozen armed guards burst through the front door and ran into the dining room.

  David and Eric looked all around, confused by what was happening. David looked at Lori and asked, “What did you do?”

  Horton loved these types of moments; he had always enjoyed the big reveals. So often the things he and the Order had done went without anyone’s knowledge, and he disliked that. He knew why he enjoyed these reveals, it was because he loved to show off just how smart or cunning he was. He walked around the table once and took his place at the head of the table before speaking. “I had the best time tonight. Getting to know you and your wonderfully bright son was a treat,” he said to David. “However, in all things there is so often collateral damage that is done. One cannot build a new world without destroying the old, and one cannot have a new relationship without one ending.”

  “Chancellor, you’re scaring us. You’re scaring my son,” David said, his arm outstretched across Eric’s torso.

  “Mr. Roberts, you and your son have been nothing but pawns on my chessboard. I brought you here so I could keep you close so that when Lori returned, she could watch what remains of her family die.”

  Lori had heard enough. She pounced from the table and lunged at Horton with a fork in her hand.

  Two guards grabbed her quickly and forced her back in her seat.

  “Damn you, Goddamn you!” she screamed.

  Horton laughed and continued, “Earlier today, Lori put poison in this decanter.” He pulled an empty decanter from the tray and placed it on the table. “I don’t know what it was, but I figured it would be fun to see just what it did, hence our little dinner party tonight.”

  “Damn you to hell!” Lori screamed.

  “That wonderful loin had a truffle and whiskey reduction sauce, and dessert looked magnificent. That was a whiskey-infused chocolate cake.”

  “What have you done?” David asked, first looking at Horton then to Lori.

  “All I did was give you the poison that your lovely wife gave me. If there’s an antidote, you look to her for that,” Horton explained.

  “Lori, what was it?” David asked.

  “I’m so sorry. Believe me, I’m so sorry,” she cried, tears freely flowing from her eyes.

  “Lori, what was the poison?” David asked, his face gripped with fear.

  Eric bent over and began to puke.

  Horton looked repulsed when Eric began to throw up. He turned to one of his men and ordered, “Get them out of here; send them to the lab. Tell Doctor Mueller to monitor them.”

  Four guards grabbed them and pulled them forcibly out of their chairs.

  Lori struggled to free herself, but it was futile, the two men easily overpowered her.

  “Don’t hurt them, please; I’ll do whatever you want!” Lori pleaded.

  “I’m not hurting them, Lori, you are. I only used the whiskey you poisoned in our meal. Now if you have an antidote, then I’ll let you give it to them.”

  “I don’t have anything, I don’t know if there’s an antidote or not,” she answered, her eyes begging for mercy.

  David and Eric cried out as they were rushed off towards their fate.

  Horton walked over to Lori and looked down. “What exactly did you put in the whiskey?”

  “I can’t remember exactly, polonium something.”

  “Hmm, polonium, never heard of it,” Horton snapped.

  “Please, I’ll do anything, anything at all, just try to help them.”

  He leaned over till he was just a few inches from her face and said, “You had your chance to live in the new world but gave it all away. You think I want you back? I only wanted you back to punish you. Guards, take her away.”

  “Where to?” one guard asked.

  “To the lab with her family, let her witness what her actions have caused.”

  The guards hauled her up by her arms and dragged her away.

  Horton sauntered from the dining room into his office and picked up the phone. It rang several times until someone answered it.

  “Doctor Mueller here.”

  “Doctor, Chancellor Horton. I have some new test subjects coming your way. The man and boy have been poisoned with polonium; put them in a space together. I also have a woman coming down too. Sedate her, then—”

  Mueller interrupted him and asked, “Where did you get the polonium-210? That is extremely rare.”

  “Never mind that, let’s get back to the woman. Listen carefully; I need you to do exactly as I say.”

  Pine Bluffs, Wyoming

  The magistrate hit the red button on the satellite phone handset and placed it on his desk. He chewed on his lip and leaned back in the thick leather office chair and began to rock. The call had come from a source inside the DIA, and the report was not what he had wanted to hear.

  He picked up the phone again and touched a couple keys but stopped short of pressing the green call button. His eyes rolled in his head as he pondered whether he should make the call or not. The other parts of his plan were in motion. It had taken him a long time to get to this point, but if Lori had been found out, then the plan might not come together at all. He had to assume he had been compromised and the other parts would also fall apart as well. His thumb still hovered over the green call button. If he hit the button, he’d call off the operation and order his forces to fall back to a predetermined rally point and regroup. They knew her part of the operation could be a failure, so they had made a contingency just in case. However, he didn’t want to stop it, the wheels were in motion and they could still be successful. He pressed the green button, and the phone clicked then began to ring.

  “Martin here.”

  “This is the magistrate. What’s your location?”

  “An hour outside of the drop-off for Captain Priddy.”

  “How long before you’
re in place?”

  “Three hours. Have we gotten word from Ms. Roberts?”

  The magistrate paused. His natural desire was to tell him the truth, but to do so would force him to question the operation’s success. He needed Martin and Travis still moving towards their objectives, but he didn’t want to sacrifice his Scraps. They were good people and he needed them.

  “We haven’t gotten word from her, but a source there has told me she failed. I need you to contact your second in command in Denver. Tell everyone to fall back to their secondary rendezvous points and wait further instructions.”

  “Roger that,” Martin said. “I’ll contact Captain Priddy and have him wave off too.”

  “No, he needs to proceed.”

  “But, sir, that was not part of our contingency.”

  “The bomb needs to go forward. We always talked about doing this, so let’s do it.”

  Martin was silent as he contemplated this shift in the plan.

  “Are you there?” the magistrate asked.

  “I’m here, sir. I’ll contact my people, but I’m requesting I go forward with Captain Priddy.”

  “No, I can’t lose you now.”

  “If you want this to happen, then me going with him helps ensure that. Remember, he only has one hand.”

  The magistrate gripped the phone tighter, he hated to be questioned, but Martin was right and he couldn’t argue with him. “Go with him. Priority is to plant the bomb, secondary is getting patient zero and third is reclaiming Ms. Roberts. Keep Captain Priddy under control and focused on the priorities.”

  “I’ll try, sir, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be successful.”

  “And you know what to do if you get caught?”

  “Yes, sir, I realize what I’m risking here.”

  “Very well, good luck. We’re going to evacuate the town and move towards our secondary location. I hope to see you there soon.”

  “Take care, sir,” Martin said and hung up.

  The magistrate put the satellite phone down and stood up. He walked around his large desk and exited his office. In a small waiting room just outside, his aide was busy writing. “Get in touch with Carolyn and Franklin. Order an evac. We’re falling back to our secondary. This is a priority evac; we leave in an hour.”

  Hour North of Denver International Airport

  Travis took the helmet from inside the Humvee and began to slam it against the hood violently.

  Martin had asked once for him to stop but soon realized he needed to vent. Knowing he cared for her made him resist pressing the issue.

  One hard slam after another Travis brought the helmet down until he heard the fiberglass hood crack and splinter. He inspected the damage but still hadn’t exhausted his fury and hit the hood three more times before stopping.

  “Can we get down the road now?” Martin asked.

  Travis walked back and forth the length of the Humvee. He stopped when he caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the rear driver’s side window. He looked at himself sporting the green camouflage uniform of the Marine Corps but with a different name tab sewn above the angled top right pocket. Disgusted by himself and everything, he took the helmet and slammed it into the window. The impact from his Kevlar helmet did nothing to the inches-thick ballistic glass. Angry that his attempt failed to break it, he swung his arm back to hit it again.

  Martin had seen enough. He grabbed his arm and said, “Enough. Take your anger out on our mutual enemy not our vehicle.”

  Travis pulled his arm away and said, “Get off of me.”

  “Listen, we don’t have time for this bullshit. Let’s ride.”

  Looking at the helmet in his hand, he thought about what Martin just said. His anger was piqued, and all he wanted to do was smash things.

  “It’s just you and me. Now go jump in the passenger side. I’m driving us in.”

  Travis brought his gaze back up and said, “Okay.”

  Martin walked around him and got behind the wheel. As he closed the door, he heard a loud impact. He turned around and saw that Travis had hit the window again.

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

  “Get your ass in the vehicle; we got a job to do.”

  The remaining forty-five minutes it took to get to the first checkpoint was filled with rehearsing just exactly what they were going to do.

  After much discussion, it was decided that after the bomb was set in place they split up. Martin argued that doing so jeopardized the second part, but there was no convincing Travis. He was dead set on finding Lori even though he didn’t know where she was. His first assumption was the brig, and that would be guarded heavily; just how he’d get in and get her, well, he thought he’d just have to play it by ear.

  While Travis was doing that, Martin would be attempting to recover patient zero.

  When the first checkpoint came into view, both men sat up straighter and tried to look the part. They zigzagged through the S curve of jersey walls and sandbags until they stopped at the fortified guard station.

  Martin looked for their man but didn’t see him. “Shit, where is he?”

  “This is going to be fun,” Travis smirked, pulling out his pistol and resting it between his legs.

  A black uniformed guard walked up and said, “Who are you, and what’s your business here?”

  Looking around, Travis could see the military was not manning the checkpoint like they had when he had been there. Now DHS agents were all they saw milling around. This development must have just happened, or their source’s intelligence was horribly wrong.

  “We’re coming in from Camp 19; I’m transporting Captain Miller here. He has orders to be the new supply commanding officer at the DIA,” Martin said.

  The guard looked at Martin clad in his army uniform and then cocked his head and examined Travis. “Do you have paperwork?”

  Travis buried the pistol in his lap, opened his right cargo pocket and removed a set of papers. He handed the folded stack across the wide console to the guard’s waiting hands.

  The expressionless guard flipped through the paperwork, then raised his eyebrow; he looked back in and said, “Looks good.”

  For an instant both Travis and Martin felt at ease, but the guard’s next request shattered that.

  “Hold here for positive ID. I’ll get the scanner.” The guard walked away, chatted with another guard and disappeared into the small structure.

  “I’m not going to pass the retinal scan; you do know that?” Travis commented with his jaw clenched.

  “I’m not either,” Martin said, looking at Travis, a dour look on his face. He unsnapped his shoulder holster and pulled out his H&K pistol. “Not what I imagined would happen, but if we’re going to have to fight our way out of this, let’s not screw around.”

  Several men exited the shack and walked over. One was wearing a military uniform.

  “That’s our guy, right there, that’s him,” Martin said, a tone of excitement in his voice.

  The military-uniformed man walked up with a small black box and said, “Good evening, gentlemen, I’m Staff Sergeant Gomez. Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s get you to ID yourselves here.” Staff Sergeant Gomez, a large man with broad shoulders, handed the scanner to Martin.

  Martin obliged, and after a second of looking into the eyepiece, a loud beep sounded.

  “Looks good, Staff Sergeant Smith, thank you. Please hand the scanner to the captain.”

  Martin did as he said when another man walked up. He was wearing black fatigues and had a pissed-off look on his face. “Staff Sergeant Gomez, you know we’re under a lockdown. Orders are to not allow anyone in till further notice.”

  “But this man is supposed to report to supply.”

  “Supply? You think supply is critical?” the man barked.

  “Not sure who you are, but I was requested specifically by the chancellor himself. I’m here to help with logistics for the lab.”

  The black-fatigued man peered in and grimaced at Travis. �
��I don’t care where you’re going. We’re under strict orders; no one is allowed in.”

  “How about I escort them in?” Gomez said.

  The man looked at Gomez and said, “No.”

  “Can I make a call to my commanding officer?” Travis blurted out. He was now just winging it.

  The man answered him with disdain, “We can do that. Pull over there and park; stay in your vehicle.”

  Martin looked at Travis with a concerned look. He wanted some sort of direction.

  “How many have you counted?” Travis asked.

  Martin looked and said, “Upon approach, about a dozen.”

  Gomez pointed to a small gravel space a dozen feet just past the shack for them to park.

  Slowly Martin pulled the vehicle there and stopped.

  “I tried,” Gomez said, looking inside at Martin and Travis.

  “Hi, I’m Martin, and this is—”

  “Captain Priddy, I know. You’re a wanted man,” Gomez said.

  “Any suggestions?” Travis asked.

  “Well, unless you have a contact at the office, your orders will come back as bullshit,” Gomez answered.

  Not needing to hear anymore, Travis got out and stood. He looked back at Martin and ordered, “Grab a grenade. I’ve got these three. After the spoon flies, hold it for a count of two before tossing it into the window.”

  “Roger that,” Martin said and promptly followed his instructions. He grabbed his rucksack and pulled a high-explosive grenade out of a pouch on the outside.

  “So this is how it’s going down?” Gomez asked.

  Martin gave him a look and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

  Travis’s hard-soled boots crunched on the gravel as he approached the shack.

  He took long strides and was almost there when a guard yelled, “Stop right there.”

  “Is there a head in there? I gotta piss,” Travis said.

  “Get back in your vehicle,” the guard ordered.

  “Can’t a guy take a piss?” Travis barked.

  “Wilkens, chill out, man,” Gomez said as he walked up to the guard and stood next to him.

  “But you heard the commander,” the guard said and repeated the last orders he had received, “These men must stay in the vehicle.”