Scourge: V Plague Book 14

by Dirk Patton

  “Sir?”

  “You’ve got something you want to ask me, Seaman. Go ahead. I don’t bite.”

  He was quiet for a stretch, then took a deep breath.

  “You’ve been on the mainland since the attacks, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are there any survivors, sir? Any chance?”

  Now I understood what he wanted.

  “Where are you from?” I asked, leaning forward and putting my arms on the back of the front seat.

  “Nebraska, sir. Omaha.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was at Offutt and out into the city a couple of weeks ago. Didn’t see any sign of survivors.”

  He nodded, glancing at me in the mirror again.

  “Could there be any outside the city? My family’s farm was about fifty miles west of Omaha. Middle of nowhere. Could they have survived?”

  I took a deep breath before I answered. Sure, it was possible. After all, there were a few. Titus in Idaho. The militia in Nevada. The guy at Luke Air Force Base in Arizona I’d encountered on the way to rescue Vance. But the odds were heavily stacked against the likelihood. Did I tell the kid the truth, or let him continue to hold out hope?

  “It’s always possible,” Rachel said, placing her hand on my leg where he couldn’t see. “We came across survivors in several places across the country.”

  He leaned to the side and looked at Rachel in the mirror before returning his attention to the road. Slowly, he nodded his head and didn’t ask anything else during the drive to the hospital.

  2

  I was surprised when Admiral Packard personally answered the door. His quarters were actually an imposing home set amongst lush, tropical landscaping. A squad of Marines had established a perimeter around the house and I could hear the beat of rotors as a Super Cobra patrolled the area. The same Marine Captain that had been standing close to him at the airfield peered at me from over the Admiral’s shoulder. I could tell he wasn’t happy about not being between us until he was comfortable I wasn’t a threat.

  “Major! Right on time. Please come in.”

  Packard opened the door wide and I stepped through into a sparsely appointed space.

  “Galley’s that way,” he pointed after closing the door. “Find yourself something to drink, then join us out back. I’ve got to check the grill.”

  He turned and hurried away, but the Marine didn’t budge.

  “You ever sleep?” I asked him.

  “When he does,” he grumbled, tilting his head at the Admiral’s receding back.

  I met his eyes, recognizing his devotion to protecting the old man.

  “Pistol in my right cargo, Ka-Bar on my belt at my back,” I said.

  “Figured you’d have something,” he said.

  I stared at him a long beat, but he didn’t seem to be interested in disarming me.

  “Know what you’ve done, and what you’ve been through,” he finally said. “Keep ‘em. You’re about the least likely Russian assassin there is.”

  “They could have turned me,” I said, grinning.

  He looked into my eyes and cracked a smile.

  “With the body count you’ve racked up? Hell, the old man’s probably safer with you near him. Any enemy that shows up will be more interested in killing you than him.”

  “Glad to help,” I said, feeling the tension between us drop off several notches.

  I swung through the kitchen, oops… galley, grabbing a cold beer out of the refrigerator. I could hear several voices coming through an open door and followed the sound out onto a large patio. The sun was down and the area was lit with lanterns hanging in the spreading branches of a massive banyan tree. Five men sat around a large table while the Admiral tended to a charcoal grill. Whatever was cooking smelled wonderful and my stomach growled loudly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten something that hadn’t been freeze dried.

  The conversations stopped when I appeared and the men got to their feet to greet me. Three were in uniform, but two were in civvies. The first to shake my hand was a Rear Admiral named Black, who growled his name before taking a long gulp of the drink in his hand and stepping aside. Marine Major General Reed peered at my damaged eye as he tried to crush every bone in my hand. If he hadn’t had two stars on his uniform, I’d have shown him what a real grip was. Then a Navy Captain named West who introduced himself as Packard’s senior aide.

  The two men casually dressed in jeans and button down shirts had held back, giving me a chance to give them a quick once over. Both were tall, straight and looked to be as hard as granite. I was betting they were SEALs, and wasn’t surprised when the first one introduced himself as Captain Britt, commander of DEVGRU or the Navy’s Special Warfare Development Group. He was the senior SEAL officer still alive. Last came Commander Sherman, a SEAL team leader.

  “How many men did you get out of Dam Neck alive?” I asked the SEAL Captain.

  Dam Neck, Virginia is where DEVGRU was based before the attacks. I didn’t imagine it had fared well in the immediate aftermath.

  “Not nearly enough,” he said. “Lost a lot of men that day.”

  I nodded, then the Admiral called that dinner was ready. Everyone stood around the table as he placed a heaping platter of steaming ribs in the middle. I was surprised when he returned to the grill and brought over a second, even larger one that was quickly covered in foil.

  “Captain Black!” he shouted.

  The Marine I’d talked to at the front door appeared almost instantaneously.

  “For you and your men,” the Admiral said, hoisting the wrapped food and handing it over.

  “Thank you, sir, but they’ll eat when they’re off duty.”

  “Rotate ‘em through, Captain. Those boys have had to stand out there smelling me cooking, least I can do is feed them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Black said, taking the platter and carrying it away.

  Once Packard was seated, the rest of us took our chairs. Using a large set of chrome tongs, he quickly piled each of our plates with food.

  “What did the doctor tell you, Major?” he asked after quickly devouring a rib.

  “Bullet fragment in my head, sir,” I said after chewing and swallowing. “Pressing on the optic nerve, but I already knew that.”

  “How’s your vision?” Captain Britt asked.

  “Right eye’s good,” I said.

  “Your left?” he persisted, peering at me from across the table.

  “No vision,” I said, involuntarily reaching up and touching the new eye patch I’d been given. “Doc says it may come back if he takes the fragment out.”

  “If?” the Admiral asked around a mouthful of ribs.

  “He wanted to do it tomorrow, sir,” I said, shrugging. “Told him no.”

  “No? Why?” Britt asked in surprise.

  “Not ready to be out of action just yet,” I said, not wanting to talk about my plans to go to Australia.

  I didn’t fail to notice the glances that were exchanged around the table after I spoke. There was a pause in the conversation as we kept eating, then Captain West spoke up.

  “What did you observe in the Phoenix area when you were there?” he asked, catching me completely unprepared by the change in topic.

  I wiped my hands on a wet towel and took a drink to buy a moment to compose myself. Why the hell were they interested in Phoenix?

  “Pretty much like every other city I’ve been in, sir, with one exception. Didn’t see any infected roaming around, other than a small group on Luke. Encountered a single survivor at the Air Force base, but other than that, nothing much to say.”

  “What about the city itself?” he asked.

  “Sir?”

  What the hell was he getting at?

  “Infrastructure. Roads. Buildings. That type of thing.”

  “Mostly intact,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “Roads are jammed with abandoned vehicles, but undamaged as far as I saw. Large swaths of neighborhoods are burned out, but
most the city is intact.”

  “Habitable, then?” Admiral Black asked.

  “Habitable?” I asked in surprise. “I suppose so, but there’d have to be a lot of cleanup. But we may have another problem. The infected are reproducing.”

  There was a stunned silence around the table. Captain West was the first to overcome his shock and speak.

  “Reproducing? As in having children?” he asked in a slightly horrified voice.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, nodding. “Several months ago, in Oklahoma if I’m remembering right, I saw a pair of infected that were mating. Other than creeped out, I didn’t think much of it at the time. But recently, I saw lots of pregnant females. And as we were escaping from Las Vegas, we came across a hangar full of new mothers and babies at the airport.”

  There was another long stretch of silence before West asked another question.

  “The babies. What were they like?”

  “Didn’t see them personally,” I said. “One of the women with my group went inside and I’m going off her report. She said they appeared normal, physically, other than red eyes. But they were calm, quiet and very alert. Unlike a normal infant.”

  “Which woman?” West asked, pulling out a pen and a small notepad. “We need to speak with her.”

  Uh oh. I’d just said too much, inadvertently drawing attention to Nicole.

  “Major?” he prompted after I didn’t answer immediately.

  “Well, sir, there’s something I’d better confess,” I said, not seeing a way out of the corner I’d painted myself into. “The woman who was partially infected, but didn’t turn fully? She’s the one that went into the hangar. She’s able to communicate with the infected. Control them even. And they don’t try to attack her. If not for her, we would never have made it out of Nevada.”

  It was very quiet around the table as all eyes turned to look at Admiral Packard. He was staring at me, meticulously wiping barbeque sauce off his hands.

  “Would this be the woman that was specifically excluded when Colonels Blanchard and Pointere evacuated their men from Nevada?” he asked me.

  “Yes, sir. That’s her. Sorry, sir. I was aware of your order, but wasn’t going to leave her behind. None of us would have made it without her.”

  Packard continued to stare at me, slowly folding his napkin and placing it on the table.

  “Colonel Crawford warned me you were a pain in the ass,” he said.

  I held his eyes, expecting to receive a royal ass chewing as a prelude to God only knew what kind of punishment.

  “But he also told me that he’d learned to trust your instincts. In this case, perhaps you’ve inadvertently provided us with a resource we didn’t have. Anything else you’ve done that I need to know about?”

  “Not that I can think of, sir,” I said, unhappy that I’d let him down, but still positive I’d done the right thing by bringing Nicole along.

  “Very well,” he said, turning to look at his aide. “Captain, let’s locate this young lady. She may be very valuable.”

  “Sir, I hope you aren’t thinking about putting her in quarantine,” I said.

  “Probably a bit too late for that, don’t you think Major?” he asked, then looked around the table. “Now, enough business for the moment. “How are my ribs?”

  Everyone nodded and told him they were great. He grinned, then looked directly at me.

  “Major, you’ve never been one to blow smoke up my ass, so you tell me. How are they?”

  Each of the officers turned to look at me.

  “Well, sir, these are about the best ribs I’ve ever had, and I grew up in Texas,” I said, earning nods of agreement all around the table. “But then, I’ve been living on MREs for the past six months, so I may not be the best judge.”

  There was stunned silence at the table for a beat, then the Admiral burst out laughing.

  “Leave it to the Army to keep me honest!” he said, shoving an empty plate towards the middle of the table.

  The conversation lightened up at that point. I answered lots of questions about fighting the infected and the Russians, and filled in some details that none of them were aware of. Captain Britt, when he learned the fate of Lieutenant Sam, told me about the other Sam brother and how he and his team had been killed by Barinov. That conversation put a damper on everyone’s appetite and unfinished plates were slowly pushed away.

  Admiral Packard called out and several Navy stewards appeared as if by magic. They quickly cleared the table, the senior man returning with several ashtrays, a cut crystal decanter of whiskey and seven highball glasses. He poured, distributing the drinks in order of rank, then vanished as silently as he’d arrived. Cigars were lit, the Admiral and myself opting for cigarettes. Once everyone had a drink in hand, he leaned forward and raised his glass.

  “To our fallen!”

  We all echoed the toast, each of us drinking deeply.

  “Major, there’s a lot going on that you aren’t aware of. Captain West, if you would,” the Admiral said, leaning back in his chair.

  The Captain spoke for some time, giving me a much broader picture of the world than I’d had while fighting for my life on the mainland. But more information is not always a good thing. As I listened to the horrifying news that the planet was dying, I looked around the table at the faces of the assembled officers. I saw anger and fear. As West talked about the Russians sharing American soil with us after we moved into Phoenix, I saw doubt in several of the men. The one thing I didn’t see was hope. But I couldn’t come up with an argument against the plan for cohabitation with the enemy.

  “How do we pull this off?” I asked when he paused to refill his glass. “How do we get the Russians to put down their arms and share a city with us? What’s to stop Barinov from finishing us off and taking whatever he wants?”

  “A bullet in the goddamn head,” Captain Britt said, throwing back his drink and reaching for the decanter.

  Captain West picked back up, describing the plans to assassinate Barinov and break Irina’s uncle out of prison.

  “That’s where you come in, Major,” the Admiral interrupted his aide.

  “Count me in, sir,” I said. “I was already planning to pay the son of a bitch a visit in the middle of the night.”

  “Tell me about your plan,” he said.

  I looked at him for a long beat, hoping I hadn’t just stepped into a big pile of shit. The whiskey had loosened my tongue a bit, and maybe I shouldn’t have revealed my agenda.

  “Just that, sir,” I said. “I was going to find a way to get to Australia, then Barinov.”

  “Planning to go AWOL?” Admiral Black asked, glaring at me.

  “It’s not AWOL if I resign my commission first,” I said, staring back at him.

  “That’s not going to be necessary, Major,” Packard interjected.

  3

  We talked until nearly midnight. The whiskey flowed, making me happy there was a driver waiting to take me back to my quarters. Plans were discussed in broad strokes and I got into an argument with the two SEALS over my eye. They insisted I was not combat capable due to my injury. I offered to give them a personal demonstration of just how combat capable I was.

  Admiral Packard had shut down the bigger dick contest and sent everyone on their way. I was scheduled to start working with the SEALs the following morning to develop and refine a plan to achieve both the goal of terminating Barinov and rescuing Admiral of the Fleet Shevchenko. Thanking Packard for the meal, I was the first to go, making my way through the large house.

  “Much as it pains me to say it, but those SEALs are right,” the Marine Captain said as he opened the door for me to leave.

  I glanced at his name tape, wondering if he was related to the gruff Rear Admiral I’d just had dinner with.

  “Right about what?” I asked.

  “Your eye,” he said. “Fucked mine up in Iraq. Detached cornea. Didn’t say nothin’, and missed a fuckin’ jihadi running in from that side. Damn near got m
y men killed because of stupid pride. Couldn’t have lived with that, and I’m bettin’ you couldn’t either.”

  I looked at him for a long moment before nodding my head.

  “Good night, Captain.”

  “Night, sir.”

  The young Seaman was waiting for me, leaned against the Hummer’s fender, having a smoke. When he saw me coming, he quickly stripped it and shoved the butt in his pocket as he hurried to open the back door. I waved him away and climbed in front for the ride to the VOQ.

  He dropped me off and I told him to be back at 0800 the next morning. Walking inside the building, I was mildly surprised to see the same Senior Chief who had been on duty when I’d arrived earlier.

  “No rest for the wicked, eh Senior Chief?” I asked as I walked by.

  “We all do our duty, sir,” he chuckled. “Good night.”

  I waved a hand in the air and headed down the hall, only slightly unsteady on my feet from the alcohol I was no longer accustomed to. It took a couple of tries, but I got the key to work and stepped inside my assigned quarters. No lights were on, only a faint illumination coming from outside through windows set high in the wall.

  After a stop in the bath, I walked softly into the bedroom, peering at the bed. Dog was curled up on the floor at the foot, and I could faintly make out Rachel’s form under a thin sheet. Her hair spilled across a white pillow, the contrast noticeable even in the dark.

  As quietly as I could, I undressed to my briefs and hung my uniform in the closet. I’d have to check in the morning, but was pretty sure it was still good enough to get another day’s wear out of it. As long as the front wasn’t covered in BBQ sauce and it didn’t reek of cigars and whiskey. Fuck. I’d have to put on a clean one.

  I slipped under the sheet and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. There was a lot to mull over and my mind was racing. It would probably be better if I went to sleep and thought about everything with a clear head the next morning, but it’s never been easy for me to shut my thoughts off like that. There was a rustle of fabric as Rachel moved, then I felt her cool hand on my bare chest.

  “Everything good?” she asked sleepily.