by Rounds, Mark
“Little Bear has used me as a punching bag too many times,” said Macklin nodding, “but we can’t hit them that hard and still get out. We need to go now. Call Carlos and have him meet us at the house on the South Hill.”
“Carlos is gone,” said Ngengi simply.
“Too bad they killed him,” said Macklin.
“He’s not dead,” said Ngengi. “He left. He has another master to follow.”
“What about you?” asked Macklin getting scared and angry at the same time as he remembered being abandoned at the airport at the beginning of the Plague. “Are you going to bug out too, the first time I turn my back?”
“I have no other place to go,” said Ngengi quietly. “Nergüi took me when all the rest of the Patrons said I was too … primitive. I have only him to save me from a slow, painful death.”
“And now me,” said Macklin seizing the opportunity. “With Strickland’s drug, we can be free of Nergüi and his twisted brethren.”
“But I owe Nergüi …” said Ngengi indecisively.
“So do I,” said Macklin, really seeing Ngengi for the first time. For all his fierceness and ruthlessness, he was still a child in many ways and needed a father figure. “But Nergüi is out of reach. This drug and these soldiers we will train with it are his last hope. I still intend to build the army he needed but I don’t think I can get it done before they tire of toying with him. Everything our source in Tacoma has sent tells me that they have thousands of troops who are alert and disease free, not like the scum we must deal with. The only way we can get to him is to be ready and watch for them to move him. Then we can strike.”
“Will they move him?” asked Ngengi who was now grasping for something to hope for. “They have their fortress …”
“They’ll have to,” said Macklin who was acting more confident about this story he was building that he really was. “Nergüi is tougher than they know. He has outlived Genghis Khan and been in spots tighter than this. He will bide his time and be ready, likely shamming frailty until he has an opening. The best thing we can do is be ready. To do that we must survive. Go get the remains of our forces here, we will still gather at the South Hill house.”
“Why?” asked Ngengi. With that question, Macklin knew he had him.
“We will need the Slash and the weapons there to get back on our feet. There are also some guards there we can use. Then, before the Government’s troops here can move on that house, we will be gone.”
“Where are we going?” asked Ngengi, who had now totally transferred his allegiance to Macklin.
“We will need to find another facility that is out of the way,” said Macklin. “Somewhere they won’t think to look. We won’t need a research site. Any chemical processing plant will do that’s near the Oregon grape plant Strickland went on about. It’s all over the northwest so that will be easy. Now go and meet me in ten minutes. I have one more thing to do.”
Ngengi headed off down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, Macklin went to the closet where he had tied his informant. He opened the door and saw a terrified lab technician.
“I have one more question,” said Macklin ripping off the duct tape that gagged his informant. “Tell me the answer and I’ll cut you loose. Lie and I’ll leave you here. Where is Strickland’s stash?’
“In the safe in the storeroom!” said the desperate informant.
Macklin slapped another piece of duct tape over his mouth.
“If it’s there,” said Macklin over his shoulder, “I’ll be back, you keep quiet until then. If I am discovered, you’ll die here.”
Macklin closed the door, never intending to open it again. Whether the man lived or died was no concern of his now. He needed to get his hands on enough of Strickland’s drug before Nergüi was well and truly dead.
Chapter 17
July 15th, Wednesday, 10:44 pm PDT
Madigan Medical Center, Joint Base Fort Lewis-McChord, Tacoma WA
Nergüi was slowly moving his charges down the hall. Vaughn and Lassiter had proved very resistant to his persuasion and it had taken more time than he had intended. Now that he had some modicum of control, they shambled along carrying the chosen woman, Amber. He had left the others unconscious, not caring if they lived or died. Amber had stirred a couple of times, but he had been able to keep her from reaching full wakefulness.
The sounds of a large helicopter hovering over the building distracted Nergüi and scared him more than he was willing to admit. He had to move faster than these cretins were unwillingly able to move. All this effort tired him and so he stumbled, momentarily losing his concentration. Again Amber struggled and this time, Nergüi felt a pain like an ice pick being shoved behind his eye.
“ARRGH!” shouted Nergüi grasping his head. “NO. YOU. DON’T!”
Nergüi’s grip on Chris faltered so he could lower Amber gently to the floor. Chris stumbled toward a distracted Nergüi and struck out at him with a clumsy right cross. The blow caused Nergüi to open his eyes and refocus on Chris.
“You think that puny excuse for a blow will injure me?” said Nergüi.
“Ah … Ah … Oh God!” shouted Chris as he stumbled back in pain.
“You all think this puny attack will stop me?!” said Nergüi now back in control of his own mind. “You will suffer for this and ask to die before I am done. Whaa …”
While he had been threatening his three charges, Mary Kline and stumbled out of the ward and had quietly followed Nergüi down the hall, and as he was gloating over thwarting Chris’s attack, she crept up on him and jabbed an auto injector firmly into Nergüi’s backside.
“What have you done?” shouted an enraged Nergüi. “You will die for this!”
Wordlessly, Mary slipped slowly down the wall and Nergüi began to fill her mind. Amber was able to shake free of Nergüi’s tendrils and hammered him hard.
“You bastard,” said Amber as she came to her feet. “You made me kill your henchman and now you are trying to kill a helpless pawn who angered you. NEVER AGAIN!”
Something snapped open in Amber’s mind, as if a turbocharger suddenly ramped up the power she could deliver, and Nergüi, battered as he was, lost his hold on Amber and her friends. Chris again staggered to his feet and planted a perfect haymaker on Nergüi’s jaw, finishing what the Slash had started, knocking Nergüi senseless.
“I hope the bastard is dead!” said Chris panting as he stood over Nergüi. He was nearly done in from fighting off Nergüi’s attacks and was wobbly on his feet.
“No such luck,” said Amber who was now deeply in Nergüi’s brain. “He will live, though that dose of Slash would likely kill an unconditioned horse.”
“He … he … used me,” said Mary from side of the hall where she had taken cover. “I felt sorry for him, and he used me.”
“He won’t use anyone again,” said Lassiter who finally regained control over his limbs. “Damn my head hurts. I think as soon as we get this … thing … back in restraints, we all need to see a doctor.”
Just then, pounding down the hall, came Major Eveleth and his operators along with General Bossell.
“Is everything under control here?” said Bossell looking around anxiously.
“It is now,” said Amber with a distant look in her eye, “It is now.”
July 15th, Wednesday, 10:51 pm PDT
Providence Medical Research Center, Spokane WA
Captain Stutesman followed a Ranger fire team as they their worked their way down the hall.
“Ball park!” shouted Jen when the Rangers nodded that they were ready.
“Wrigley!” shouted Price from the big lab space on the first floor.
The Rangers ran forward and secured the door just as the Air Force Special ops team opened the door, weapons at the ready.
“Captain Stutesman here!” shouted Jen from the door.
“Lieutenant Price here!” shouted Jeremy in reply. “This floor is secure, come on in!”
Jen again nodded at the Rangers w
ho remained watchful but conscientiously pointed their weapons away from the entry.
“Coming through,” shouted Jen who then walked through the door, M-4 on a sling and M-9 pistol holstered.
“Stutesman,” said Jen extending her hand.
“Price,” said Jeremy returning handshake. “You’re the new Flight Commander for Alpha Flight in the 109th?”
“Guilty,” said Jen. “What’s the situation here?”
“I have four wounded and three KIA to evacuate. There are also over twenty civilians who have to come out of here. Some of them are children. There are still organized hostiles in parts of this building as I don’t have enough men or ammunition to clear it. As they complete their missions, my fire teams are to report here to await your orders. ”
“I have ten wounded,” said Jen, “and four KIA. Any of the civilians infected?”
“A few, but they seem to be in remission,” said Price. “My PJ ran the test and they’re clean.”
“What?” said Jen in disbelief. “In remission?”
“Didn’t they brief you?” asked Price.
“Just that we have a high value target to evacuate.” said Jen. “A guy named Strickland.”
“That’s the one,” said Price pointing to Robert Strickland, “Only he has a whole research team to take out. Not just one guy.”
“If they are truly in remission,” said Jen thoughtfully, “or they have developed a palliative with fewer side effects than Slash, that would make him ‘high value’ alright. This guy Strickland must be …”
“It’s not ‘this guy’ Strickland,” said Robert Strickland somewhat haughtily as he broke away from the cluster of lab technicians, “it’s DOCTOR Strickland. Now is there some issue with the Infected on my team?”
“No sir,” said Jen recovering quickly and going into full briefing mode, “We have some logistics problems to deal with. We will have to remove personnel from this site in two lifts. The Lieutenant and I will have to prioritize who goes in what lift is all.”
“In that case,” said Robert Strickland, “I volunteer to stay back until the second lift.”
“Sorry sir,” said Jeremy shaking his head. “My orders were to get you out the most expeditious way possible. My original thought was to have you go out with the choppers that brought us in. But the size of your team precludes that, especially since one of the UH-1’s that brought us in developed a chip light and had to abort. We are down to one UH-1 and two Little Birds. We can’t even get all the casualties out via air.”
“The situation is worse than that,” said Jen. “We lost two Humvee’s on the way in. We were a little cramped for that last bit.”
“What’s your plan, ma’am?” asked Jeremy.
“I have an idea,” said Jen, noting that Jeremy had not made any bones about her taking command and in fact just assumed that would be the case. “Let’s get that Ranger Lieutenant over here so I only have to say this once. Dr. Strickland, if you would please remain here also, I think it would expedite what we have to accomplish if you heard this also.”
“Dietrich here, ma’am,” said a young officer with extremely short hair. “US Army Rangers at your service.”
“Where is Sergeant Finkbiner?” asked Jen, looking around the room.
“The Air Force was just making sure that this position was safe enough for the Rangers,” said Sergeant Finkbiner as he entered the room.
“Very good,” said Jen shaking her head. “Price, have your PJ coordinate with my medic and prioritize our casualties and get the most critical ones headed back in the choppers when they return.
“Dietrich, you will take the convoy back to Fairchild. We will load up the semi with Dr. Strickland’s team and as many casualties as you can carry. I will instruct my First Sergeant here to offload my combat teams but leave you all my vehicle crewmen.”
“I don’t mean to intrude,” said Dr. Strickland,” but do we have enough trucks to take out my lab equipment? We also have enough material in process to develop several hundred more doses that would perhaps double our current supply.”
“Sir,” said Jen trying to be diplomatic, “we don’t have enough vehicles to get all the people. We’ll try and move it out in the second lift.
“Dietrich, when you get back to base, please try to impress upon the Colonel the value of Dr. Strickland’s cargo.”
“I will speak with him myself,” said Dr. Strickland.
“That would be a good idea, sir,” said Jen who then turned her attention to her subordinates. “Price and I will fort up here and wait the return of the ground convoy. I will coordinate a second air mission to get the remaining wounded out and perhaps resupply our ammo situation. We will also move the high priority items to the roof for extraction.
“Dr. Strickland,” said Jen catching her first shirt’s eye, “Could you help Sergeant Finkbiner tag these items?”
“Sir, come this way,” said Finkbiner with a wink over his shoulder.
“Begging the Captain’s pardon,” said Dietrich after Dr. Strickland and Sergeant Finkbiner had left, “but my Rangers are the most competent ground element you have, despite the staff sergeant’s slight misconception. It would make the most sense to leave us here, intact, to hold out until relieved.”
“As much regard as I have for my Air Force Flight,” said Jen smiling just a little, “I will concede that your Rangers may be slightly more competent, which is why I am sending you off in command of the Convoy. Remember that our primary mission is the recovery of Doctor Strickland and his team. Your troops are best qualified to make that happen so it’s now your problem.”
“Yes ma’am,” said Dietrich.
“How is everyone’s ammo supply?” said Jen, though she already had a rough idea of the bad news she was about to get.
“We’re about spent,” said Price. “Most of my troops have a magazine in the well and maybe a spare. Our M249’s are down to less than a box of ammo each. Pistol and shotgun ammo is no better. Most of our explosives were used to breach the front door.”
“Ma’am,” said Finkbiner, “Our basic load is expended. We have also burned through most of our resupply. I have taken all the ammo from our wounded and we have loaded all our weapons and have a few spare magazines to share. Most of our machine gun ammo and all of our explosives are expended.”
“Ok,” said Dietrich. “I’ll strip my troops down to the bare minimum of ammo and leave you with …”
“You’ll do no such thing,” said Jen forcefully. “Rather, we will make sure that, to the maximum extent possible, each of your troops has a magazine in the well and a spare and that each of your machine guns has at least a partial belt. Your mission is primary, Dietrich. Get those civilians back to base. Then report to Colonel Phillips and coordinate our extraction. Bring additional lift for Strickland’s cargo. I think we can hold out until dawn. Debrief your team before the Rangers leave. Lt. Price take that data and generate the best picture you can of the forces left in this building. Do it yesterday.”
“Yes ma’am,” said Price, who pulled out a pad and started taking notes. “Off the top of my head, I think we ought to surrender the lower floors and develop a defense on the top of the building. If push comes to shove, they can take us off with the helicopters.”
“Are there any more assets we can use?” asked Jen looking around the room.
“A few,” said a battered looking Native American, “I am Little Bear, the Ghost Who Walks. I have some warriors outside who could help.”
“I was briefed that there might be some … irregular … support,” said Jen eyeing Little Bear somewhat dubiously.
“Once you have secured the top floor,” said Little Bear, “I will call my warriors in. They are good shots and patient hunters. No one will approach us without warning.”
“Um …. Er … OK,’ said Jen momentarily flustered. Then she gathered her wits and continued. “That’s my plan, gentlemen. Any questions?”
July 15th, Wednesday, 11:02 pm PDT
Madigan Medical Center, Joint Base Fort Lewis-McChord, Tacoma WA
“What’s our status?” said Antonopolous as he looked over the waiting room where Amber, Chris and Captain Lassiter were being treated. In truth, it looked like more like a collection of casualties than a significant portion of his intelligence assets. Amber’s face was pale and her eyes were closed, as if she were asleep. Captain Lassiter was holding his head and complaining of a severe headache and there was a med tech bandaging Chris’s knuckles, as if he had been in a bare knuckles brawl.
“Nergüi is back in restraints,” said Lassiter waving away the proffered injection for pain. “However, his jaw is broken and several teeth are loose. It will be a while before he is eating solid food again.”
“I trust that was necessary,” said Antonopolous.
“I wish I’d knocked his head clean off,” said Chris wincing a little as the technician tied off his bandage.
“It was necessary,” said Amber, her eyes still closed. “Had he not struck, I doubt I could have prevented him from killing Mary Kline. Even so, with the dose of Slash he has in his system, it will be days before he is conscious enough to interrogate again.”
“If you’re ready,” said Antonopolous more kindly, “I have someone else for you to interrogate. Are you up to it?”
“Something has changed inside of me,” said Amber, “I can see much more clearly than I ever could before. I am ready. Tell me about the person you wish me to interrogate.”
“His name is Hector Ramirez,” said Antonopolous, “or at least that what his driver’s license says. He hasn’t said anything to us other than to curse at us in Spanish. One of the Special Forces troops with him who has a Hispanic background and who escorted him back to base said that it sounded the same as when he and his cousins were caught stealing watermelons from his grandfather. He said it was an old form of Mexican Spanish cussing and pretty colorful, too.
“We think he was the one who had turned a highly placed officer and controlled his fiancée who was infected and addicted to Slash, to extract information from him. We want to know about the structure of his organization, who he reports to, anything like that.”
