“Now an innocent girl has to die?” Ryan said. “No, you should have told me this before.” Ryan started to rub his hand on his pants then stopped. “I won’t be involved in the murder of some poor girl.”
I won’t kill her.
Ryan gave Calida a quick glance and she raised an eyebrow.
“Then I must bring in—”
“No,” Ryan cut him off. “It’s okay, I’m going with her.”
“Very well,” the Director said. “Now you must return to the lab. I will need a new tracking sensor prepared for implantation tomorrow. We must change to a new frequency as requested by covert elements in the area.”
“Why use the sensors at all?” Siri asked. “Ryan will be mind-locked with her at all times.”
“This is a dangerous area,” the Director said. “What if something should befall our good Doctor Ryan? There are IEDs, mines, and many other ways to die. The sensors are backup.”
“What about the ongoing research?” Ryan asked.
“Oh, I’m sure your capable assistant and Professor Balken can handle things until you return.”
“Great,” Ryan said. The thought of giving up control of his lab to the Professor bothered him more than he would admit.
“We all understand our roles, yes? Very good, now we must not waste any time. We have three days to prepare and then you two must be ready to leave.” The Director pushed himself up to his feet and tapped the ashes out of his pipe. “American dignity rests in your hands,” he said and smiled at Calida. “The hands of a vampire. Do not allow yourself to fail.” The Director made a gentleman’s bow toward Calida and Siri and left the cell.
“Well, he opened the door and I walked right through it,” Ryan said.
“We both did,” Siri agreed.
“Why are you willing to help me?” Calida asked. “After you saw what happened to Christopher?”
Siri looked at Calida. “Because you’re not responsible, are you?”
Ryan watched Calida shake her head and look away from Siri.
“All right,” he said. “I have to get to the lab. I just hope it’s still in one piece when we get back.” He reached down and lifted Calida’s chin. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “You were trying to talk to me last night and I didn’t listen. There’s a monster at this place and it’s not you.”
Ryan returned to his laboratory and was immediately assaulted by one of his assistant’s loud hip-hop mixes. He walked over to the computer Henry used for his music and turned the volume down.
“You don’t mind?” Ryan shouted toward the back of the lab where Henry was assisting Professor Balken with a piece of equipment.
“Sorry, but you weren’t here,” Henry shouted back. “And the Professor said it was okay.”
“Of course, my young lad,” Professor Balken said. “Music has always provided inspiration to scientific endeavors.”
“Just keep it down, please,” Ryan said.
Henry finished assisting Professor Balken and walked up to where Ryan was preparing to sit down in front of his main workstation. “So she actually came here into the lab?” he asked.
“Yeah, too bad you missed it,” Ryan said. “She looked great.”
“She can just walk around the grounds now whenever she wants? Is that safe?”
Ryan shrugged. “Where are we with the last sequencing runs?”
Henry pointed at the display. “The last one completed ten minutes ago. Just bring it up and take a look.”
Ryan started the sequencing control program and opened up the latest batch file. He looked at the results for a moment and let out a long breath. “We now have confirmation that she really does age for seven days and gets a fresh start . . . she’s amazing.”
Thank you.
“Stop it.”
“Um, stop what?” Henry asked.
Ryan closed his eyes. “Nothing, I was just thinking out loud.”
“How about I leave you and your senior moments alone for a few minutes?” Henry asked. “I’ll go listen to Manic’s tribute mix and you can let me know when you’re ready.”
“Who’s tribute?”
“One of the west coast’s music producers was killed over the weekend.”
“When you say west coast you’re talking about California?”
“How many west coasts does this country have?”
“What happened to him?”
“His yacht blew up while he was on it. They recovered his body and the crews, but there’s still a woman missing. They’ll probably never find her. Shame really, people from Manic’s club said she was a real beauty.”
“And this yacht just exploded for no reason?”
“The reports are starting to say it was about heroin and gang war crap.”
Ryan connected the dots and decided to move on. “I want you to prepare another one of those coated two-way implant transmitters,” he instructed Henry.
“I’ll give you the frequency to set it at, but I’m also going to program it to change frequencies with a special command.”
“Don’t you want me to finish up with those last blood samples first?”
“No, this takes precedence.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ll be taking a little trip.”
“Where?”
“To a place with lots of sand and sunshine.”
“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“For the moment. Just let me know when you have the sensor setup so I can make the programming changes.”
“Uh, no problem,” Henry said and disappeared through a door to one of the storage rooms.
Ryan turned back to his workstation and began to make some editing changes to his main search program. After just a few minutes he noticed Henry emerge from the storage room and walk toward him.
“What did you do with sensors four and five?” he asked.
Ryan looked at the small plastic case Henry was holding. “Nothing,” he replied as he peered inside the open case and noticed that four of the five compartments were empty. Only one of the miniaturized sensors was nestled in the case’s foam. “I thought only two had been used so far.”
“That’s right,” Henry said. “I logged the date and time they were handed over to those ballistics wackos. We should have three more left but there’s only one . . . sensor three.”
“You sure it’s number three?”
“Four and five have that end bulge to accommodate the increased payload and electronics.”
“You’re right. So where are four and five?”
“They’re not in the case.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Ryan said. “I guess there’s nothing we can do about it right now. I only need one prepped for tracking, but it’s odd though, don’t you think?”
“We spent weeks getting that special coating to stand up to the pressures and shock of a bullet impact on the ballistics gel. And then you made me shoot them into that nasty pig carcass.”
“I’m really not senile, Henry. I remember how much effort went into these things. The last two that we constructed had the small proximity charges installed inside the casing.”
“Right, the first three were merely for tracking, but the last two followed the updated specification request from ballistics and had that ultrasonic proximity alert installed.”
“I still don’t get why that was part of the spec.” Ryan rubbed his chin. “And how about those five millimeter power units they gave us to run the things?”
“I felt like ‘Q’ when putting them together.”
“We know that the first two tracking sensors are still inside Calida. I even saw a couple x-rays where they were clearly visible. But what’s the purpose for units four and five? Why would you track and then blow the charge while it’s inside the body?”
“Maybe it’s so after an agent shoots a vampire he has time to ask questions before setting the thing off,” Henry said grinning.
“I doubt it.”
“Wel
l, I’ll get the remaining tracking sensor ready for you,” Henry said. “Maybe the other two will turn up.”
“I don’t like it that we don’t know where they are. Each one could blow your hand off so be careful where you look.” Ryan turned back to his workstation and continued with his programming changes. But there was something about the missing sensors that bothered him. The only way they could have gone missing is if someone had removed them from the case.
The Director leaned back in his chair as he looked out the window behind his desk and continued with the telephone conversation.
“Everything is in place?”
“Yes, Mister Vice President.”
“Then you have the green light to proceed with the operation.”
The Director turned back toward his desk and put his pipe down. “They leave for the target area in three days.”
“And what if the meeting with this Amir takes place during the day?”
“She is a creature of survival—and to survive she knows she must not fail. She will find a way.”
“I’ll require daily reports on her progress.”
“Of course.”
There was a long pause on the other end.
“Now about this Doctor Ryan, is he dependable?”
“Dependable? I haven’t given that much thought. But he certainly is expendable.”
“And yet he is your lead scientist.”
“Oh yes, so he is, but the research has taken a new, and possibly, more rewarding direction.”
“How so?”
“Doctor Ryan has made exceptional progress in understanding the subject’s genetic and biochemical mechanisms. He has identified the process that has given her this great longevity.”
“Yes, I read today’s report, remarkable.”
“There appears to be a quicker way to gain these abilities of hers.”
“This new element called—what is it?—untrihexium.”
“Doctor Ryan has given it a more formal name. It is now officially called Vampirenium.”
“Scientists always think they’re clever.”
“Yes, Mister Vice President.” The Director chuckled. “I believe that we must recover this stone.”
“I shall pass your recommendation along to the president. The immediate goal must be the elimination of the target.”
“That is the goal.”
“So our Doctor Ryan’s usefulness is nearing the end?”
“That would be my opinion.”
“It’s a dangerous place where he is going.”
“Very dangerous to be sure.”
“And what about Doctor Lei?”
“I feel she can still be helpful in finding where these caves might be. She knows the historical evidence better than anyone at this time.”
“And her loyalty?”
“Possibly shaken of late, but I am confident I can persuade her to get back on track with the agency.”
“Very well, that is all for now.”
“I will keep you informed of any new developments.”
The phone call ended and the Director reached for his smoldering pipe.
Chapter Sixteen
Firebase Maholic, Afghanistan
The C-17 transport made a rough landing at Kandahar Air Base. Ryan feared the plane was going to crash into the middle of a black nowhere when a row of brilliant blue-white lights passed just below the right wing followed by the wheels touching down on the hard runway with a jolt. Calida, of course, tolerated the long flight from Andrews far better than he did. When the plane came to a stop it took Ryan a moment to get his legs working again. Calida, he observed, quickly stood up and headed toward the back of the plane looking as fresh as when she got on.
As soon as they grabbed their gear and walked down the large, steel ramp that extended from the open rear of the plane, they were hurried inside a military transport bus. The driver noisily found first gear and the vehicle rumbled along a road next to the runway called Warrior Way that led them out of the main gate.
“What is that?” Ryan asked a few minutes into their trip as two white streaks flashed across the night sky.
The Army Ranger sitting across from him glanced out the window. “107s,” he replied and returned to the magazine he was reading using a small flashlight.
“What are those?”
“Rockets.”
Ryan suddenly placed both hands on the half-opened window. “They look like they’re going toward the airfield.”
The soldier again looked up. “Yeah, so?”
“Does it happen every night?” Calida asked.
The soldier put down his magazine. “Not every night, Ma’am, maybe two or three times a week. The Taliban have been firing the rockets at us more frequently of late.”
“Maybe they shouldn’t keep the runway lit up like that.”
“Don’t worry Mister, they almost never hit anything.”
“Almost never?”
“Even these clowns get lucky once in a while.”
“Don’t pay him any attention, soldier,” Calida said. “He worries too much.”
“Call me Sergeant Bob, Ma’am.”
“I like that.”
“Special Ops soldiers aren’t allowed to reveal their real names.” The soldier looked at Ryan and frowned. “Your friend there doesn’t look like he’s seen much action.”
“Her friend hasn’t.”
“And what about me?”
“You look just fine, Ma’am.”
“You’re very nice, Sergeant Bob.”
“These eyes see only the truth.”
Ryan rubbed his temples for a moment. “So where are we going right now?”
“You’ll be staging out of Camp Maholic, which is the main Special Forces base here in southern Afghanistan.”
“Why is it called Camp Maholic?” Calida asked.
“It’s named after a master sergeant who was killed in a firefight against the Taliban two years ago during a rescue mission. We lost two and the enemy over a hundred. Still wasn’t an even trade.”
“Is the base just for special forces?”
“It’s mostly Green Berets, Ma’am, but there are some other units like us Rangers who train and conduct covert ops out of the base.”
“I’m sure it’s a great place,” Ryan said.
“Sure is. We get top notch grub from the cafeteria that has a fireplace and on the main court there’s a fountain with our three catfish.” He then looked at Calida and smiled. “We even have a swimming pool.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I don’t get paid to have a sense of humor, Mister. But the base was the main compound of the Taliban’s supreme leader until his lease expired in 2002.”
“You’re right. You don’t have a sense of humor.”
“Do you get many women visitors?”
“Sure do, just last month we had three Hooter’s calendar girls visit. They were real lookers, but you’re at least as pretty, Ma’am.”
“I might have to take you up on that swim.”
“It’s almost freezing,” Ryan said.
“The pool is heated.”
“You’re kid . . . never mind.” Ryan knew he was being outmaneuvered.
“We do a tough job here so our commanders make sure we know how much they appreciate our efforts.”
“Sorry Sergeant, I’ve just always had a mental image of you guys sneaking around in and out of caves.”
“Cave hopping is our specialty, Mister.” The sergeant broadly smiled. “But don’t sweat it—you’ll get your chance to see caves first hand.”
“So you know why we’re here?”
“I know where you need to be, Ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll be heading up your insertion team.”
“You do a lot of insertions?” Ryan asked.
Calida and Sergeant Bob looked at each other, shook their heads, and laughed.
“Never mind,” Ryan said and he began to wonder if Calida’s greatest ability was being able
to instantly blend into any situation. He made the only choice available and ignored them for the rest of the ride.
Camp Maholic was a sprawling compound that was far more luxurious then would be expected for a firebase. It was originally built in 1996 to be used as the presidential palace for the Taliban’s supreme leader. But for the last seven years it had served as a US and coalition staging base to hunt out those very same militants. The irony between what the compound was originally built for and its current use wasn’t lost on Ryan who, as soon as the bus stopped, grabbed his gear and hopped out.
“You’ll need to take us to our quarters,” Ryan said. “I believe you have special instructions on that, correct?”
“Thank you,” Calida said as Sergeant Bob took her hand and helped her off the bus’s high final step.
“It’s all taken care of . . . you two will be staying down in the bunker.”
“Great.” Ryan looked at his watch. “Let’s see . . . sunrise will be here in about—”
“Four hours,” Calida said.
Sergeant Bob glanced at his own watch and then looked at Calida’s wrists. “Right on the money, Ma’am. Some people just have a great sense of time.”
“Unbelievable.” Ryan shook his head and he fell in behind Calida and her escort. The base itself was marginally lit and as they walked around some of the structures, Ryan noticed that a crest with skulls and crossed arrows had been painted on the exterior walls all over the compound. As they passed the entrance to one of the larger buildings, Ryan paused for a moment to look at another painted skull that had devilish red eyes and wore a red and green turban.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sergeant Bob called back to Ryan. “It isn’t going to bite you.”
“If you only knew how funny you sound,” Ryan said, too softly for the soldier to hear, although Calida looked back at him.
The entrance to the bunker was marked by a crater made when coalition forces had dropped a two thousand pound precision guided bomb during the early days of the war against the Taliban. There was no door just a black opening in the side of the crater. Ryan and Calida were led through the entrance and down a hallway that made a ninety degree right turn and ended at a metal stairway that took them forty feet down into the bunker’s lower levels. Blast damage was still evident although repairs had been made.
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