by David Spell
“You were a total professional. I was the one who kept telling myself, ‘Don’t say anything stupid.’”
Rebecca linked her arm through his as Chuck walked her to her apartment. She turned to look at him and said, “Can you come in for a drink?”
“Of course. I never turn down drinks from beautiful women.”
She had another glass of wine and he enjoyed a tumbler of her Glenlivet twelve-year old single malt Scotch. They talked for a couple of hours about everything and about nothing. They were just enjoying being together.
“It’s getting late,” he said. “I need to go.”
She nodded and slid closer to him on the couch. He put his arm around her and started to say something. It was obvious that he had something on his mind. She waited.
“Feel free to say ‘no,’ but next weekend, on Saturday, I’m driving over to Athens to spend the day with Melanie. She wants me to meet the boy that she’s dating. I need to go and decide if I need to kill him or not. But, I was thinking, maybe you might want to come with me? I’d love for you to meet my daughter and you could give me a woman’s insight into her boyfriend.”
Rebecca laid her head on Chuck’s shoulder. He wants me to meet his daughter, she thought. That’s a good thing but are we really at that point in our relationship? We’ve only been out twice. On the other hand, I don’t think it’ll hurt anything and it would be good to meet her. And, it would give me a little more insight into this man that I think I’ve fallen in love with.
“Chuck, I’d love to meet Melanie. And I’ve never been to Athens. That would be fun.”
McCain audibly exhaled.
He was so nervous asking me that, she thought. He’s trying to be so considerate and he’s been a complete gentleman with me. Plus, he really wants me to meet his daughter. That’s so sweet.
She kissed him on the cheek and pulled his face towards her. They kissed passionately for several minutes before he pulled himself free. He kissed her on the forehead.
“I need to go,” he said again. “As much as I hate to leave such wonderful company, I need to get my beauty sleep.”
They walked to the door and he kissed her again before she let him out. What have I gotten myself into, she thought. I think I’ve fallen in love and I have no idea how to do relationships. At least Chuck seems like the guy to learn with, she hoped.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Back into the Heart of the City
CDC HQ, Wednesday, 1030 hours
There was a knock at the door of the offices for the Enforcement Division in the lower level of the CDC. Scotty happened to be in the hallway carrying his empty coffee mug for a refill and heard the knock. After the attack on Chuck a couple of weeks earlier inside of their secure area, they were much more cautious in whom they let in.
Smith opened the door slightly and saw a slim young man in the gray cargo pants and black polo shirt uniform of their unit. He knew they were expecting a new guy but he hadn’t met Chris Rogers yet. Scotty swung the door open and said, “Well hello, young man. Does your mother know where you are?”
Chris’ eyes got wide at the sight of the huge man with the bushy beard filling the doorway. He recovered quickly, though. “No, but when I left your mom this morning, she told me that if I saw you to have you call home.”
Smith’s face broke into a huge grin and he stuck his hand out. “Ha! Come on in. I’m Scotty and you’re going to fit right in.”
Eddie stepped out of his office and saw Chris. “Scotty, are you bothering our new officer? Who let you out of your cage, anyway?”
Smith continued laughing as he walked back down the hall. When he passed Eddie, Chris couldn’t help but notice that Scotty made Eddie look small. And Eddie was a big man. Rogers figured Marshall was at least six foot three and a solid two hundred and thirty pounds. Scotty had to be two inches taller and twenty or thirty pounds heavier.
Eddie shook Chris’ hand and led him into his office so they could talk. He sat down at his desk and Chris sat across from him. “So, how was your training? You were the first guy to get the abbreviated version.”
“It was intense. I probably shot more in the last week than I’ve shot in my entire law enforcement career.”
“And what did you think of Roy?”
“Yeah, Roy was really something. He wouldn’t answer any questions about himself. What is he? Some kind of a spook?”
“Good question. We have a couple of spec ops guys on the teams here and they figure him for a Navy SEAL turned contract instructor.”
Chris nodded. “He’s good. And shooting those circles, that was a whole new level. Because of working with you guys at that mall, I figured out pretty quickly that he was training me to just focus on head shots. That’s a pretty big shift for a cop, though, since we’re so used to shooting center mass.”
“Well, at least you had some context. When the rest of us trained with Roy, we had no idea what was going on. We just thought it was a drill to tighten our groups up. Then, when he took us to the shoot house and we started shooting people targets, the only thing he counted were the head shots. And when the zombie virus kicked in, we all found that we were making head shots without any problem. Thanks, Roy.”
There was a knock on the open door. Chris turned around and saw another really big man step into the office. He wasn’t quite as tall as Eddie but was more muscular.
“Hey, Chuck, I want you to meet Chris Rogers. He’s our new team member.”
To Chris, Eddie said, “Chris, this is Chuck McCain. He’s the other team leader. That big guy you met earlier, Scotty, is on his team. Chuck was in the middle of the incident at Six Flags while you were helping us at the mall.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” said Chuck, shaking Roger’s hand. “I hear you bailed Eddie and Jimmy out at that mall. Thanks for taking care of them. Everybody knows that when you need something done right, call in a street cop.”
They all laughed and Chuck took a seat in the empty chair next to Chris. Rogers found himself staring at Chuck. “Can I ask you a random question, Mr. McCain?”
“Just call me ‘Chuck,’ and fire away.”
“Were you ever an MMA fighter? I’m a huge MMA fan and I think I saw you fight live a couple of times at Cowboys and Cowgirls Country Bar.”
“That was me. I haven’t had a fight in almost three years but I fought pretty regularly for a while. Did I win when you saw me?”
“I saw you fight twice. You knocked one guy out in like thirty seconds. And I think the other fight, you lost a decision.”
“Yep, one of my heavyweight fights. Most of my fights were at light-heavyweight. I only lost four times. They were all by decision and they were all to heavyweights.”
Eddie noticed the look of awe on Chris’ face. Chuck had never fought for the UFC or one of the other big promotions, but he had had some success fighting on the local circuit in the southeast. It took a special kind of man to get into a cage with another man for the sole purpose of trying to beat that man senseless.
“Are you a martial artist?” Chuck asked.
“Not really, but I did wrestle all through high school.”
“That’s still pretty impressive. Wrestling is very practical for police officers. I wouldn’t recommend wrestling with a zombie but for taking down live people, it’s great.”
“So, you got sworn in last week and Roy signed off on your shooting?” Marshall asked Rogers.
“Yes, sir. I guess I’m a legitimate CDC Enforcement Officer now, huh?”
“Sounds like it. We’re glad to have you. We’ve been running a man short for a couple of weeks, since we lost Marco. You’ve been a cop for a few years so you know that this is a dangerous line of work. The stuff we’re dealing with now, though, is even worse. You’ve seen it. You were with us when those terrorists hit that mall out in Douglasville. The reality is that we’re running into similar kinds of situations much more regularly now.”
“That was you guys at Peachtree Meadow high school
last week, wasn’t it?” Chris asked. “The news didn’t identify you but it was pretty easy to read between the lines.”
Eddie nodded and pointed at McCain. “Chuck and Scotty killed around a hundred zombies just by themselves. They got separated from their team and were protecting some of the students. They almost got overrun.”
Chuck laughed. “At one point, I thought we were goners. There were just too many of them. And no matter what Scotty acts like or says, he’s somebody you want standing next to you when things go south. That boy can fight.”
Marshall let what Chuck had said sink in. “So, Chris, we’re glad you’ve joined us and I know you’re going to fit right in. I heard you busting Scotty’s chops. We’ll all be helping you get up to speed on the stuff you need to learn. Normally, our new guys go through a two month training course. In your case, though, Rebecca knew we needed someone right now and we all feel that you’re quick enough and bright enough to pick up what you need to know as we go.”
“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate you putting in a good word for me with Ms. Johnson. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hiring process go more quickly or more smoothly.”
“She does have the ability to pull some strings, doesn’t she, Chuck?”
“That she does.”
“What do we have planned for the next couple of days?” Eddie asked Chuck.
“Tomorrow, we’ll spend the day at the shoot house unless something comes up. I think Rebecca wanted Chris to collect all of his equipment today and read some of the training curriculum for bio-terrorism and some other things. She wants to talk to him when she gets back. She’s in one of those intel briefings with the FBI and the DHS and will be back after lunch.”
CDC HQ, Wednesday, 1400 hours
After lunch, Rebecca called for a meeting with both teams in the briefing room. After everyone got settled in, she publicly welcomed Chris.
“Thanks for joining us, Chris. I’m sorry that you’re going to have to pick up things on the run but we really needed someone and you showed us what you could do in the attack in Douglasville.
“I just got back from an intel briefing with our friends from the FBI and the DHS. You guys have already heard that a Somali national, Mohamud Ahmed, has been identified as a person of interest by the FBI in relation to the incident at the high school last week.”
She was holding a small remote and pushed a button on it. Ahmed’s picture flashed up on the wall.
“The FBI’s lab has been working around the clock trying to figure out how the infection started at that high school. Their findings and what they saw on the video surveillance footage are the reasons that Ahmed is now a wanted man. Warrants were signed this morning. At the time, he was working for Coca Cola and was responsible for servicing the drink machines at that school. It looks like he planted bottled drinks that had been infected with the virus in the drink machines at the school.
“The scenario is that Mohamud placed a variety of tainted drinks in several machines at the school early that morning. Surveillance footage shows that he was there before the students started arriving, servicing the drink machines. And, of course, as the students showed up, many of them just had to have a Coke pick-me-up before class.”
“How did the FBI make the link between the infection and the bottled drinks?” Chuck asked.
“Several of the zombies had partially consumed bottles of soft drinks or water in their backpacks. One of their sharp forensics experts decided to test one of the bottles and it came back positive for the zombie virus. Then, they went back to the school and checked every drink in every machine. There were still a few in the machines that were infected.
“Now, here’s where it gets really good. They found fingerprints on a couple of the bottles for Amir al-Razi. It looks like he and Ahmed are working together. The terrorists opened the drinks breaking the seal, added a few drops of the virus, put a little glue on the underside of the bottle cap, and then screwed it back on. It wasn’t perfect but it clearly fooled a lot of high school kids.”
“What do we know about Ahmed?” asked Andy.
“I’ve been doing some digging on him, Andy. He came here as a refugee five years ago. He got the job as a route driver with Coca Cola and hasn’t raised any red flags at all. His supervisors at Coke said he was a model employee.
“But, I found out that his father and his uncle were both killed in the Battle of Mogadishu in 1993. Remember the movie, Black Hawk Down? Mohamud’s dad and uncle were probably killed by some of Scotty’s people, the Army Rangers.”
Smith quickly jumped to his feet and stood at attention. “Rangers lead the way, ma’am.” He then sat back down.
Andy and Jimmy, both former Marines, rolled their eyes at their friend. “Only when the Marines aren’t around,” Jones quipped.
Rebecca smiled. “And, it gets better. Ahmed’s brother was a pirate who managed to get himself killed by some Navy SEALs when he tried to hijack the wrong ship.”
“Sounds like Mohamud comes from one unlucky family,” said Jimmy.
“It sure does. That happened two years before he came to America. So, we may have a guy looking for some revenge for his dad, brother, and uncle.”
“And now, he and al-Razi are working together,” added Eddie.
“That’s right. Here’s where we’re at. A nationwide lookout has been issued for Ahmed’s silver Honda Accord. Amir’s rental car is now listed as stolen, also. That’s a brown Ford Focus. Of course, they could have dumped both of them and stolen something new.
“The next thing that you guys need to know is that the national media has really helped us by not blasting the zombie virus story around the clock. But the reality is that it’s spreading everyday. The other cities that got hit are having a tough time. Alejandro, have you talked to your family in LA?”
Estrada nodded. “They say that parts of the city are closed down. Entire neighborhoods are sealed off. They said that their neighborhood has only had some isolated incidents but they have friends in other parts of the city that have had to flee their homes because of the zombies.”
Johnson nodded. “Dallas, Houston, and New Orleans are like ghost towns. Their downtown areas were hit really hard by the virus. New York’s was originally confined mostly to Manhattan but in the last week, it has spread to Brooklyn, Queens, and even onto Long Island.
“Washington DC’s attack may be the most devastating of them all. So many people were infected who then carried the virus to Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia. Like I said, the media, for once, is helping us by not creating a frenzy, but the DC attack has the potential to infect the entire East Coast. Especially, when you factor in the attacks here in Atlanta.”
“Is there any progress on a vaccine or some kind of antidote for this thing?” Eddie asked.
“Nothing. A week or two ago, they thought they were making progress. Azar Kasra sabotaged some of that research. I stopped by the lab upstairs earlier today and they said that this is one of the most complex viruses anyone has ever seen. They’re working in three shifts, around the clock, but right now, it sounds like they aren’t even close to solving it.
“While I was talking to the epidemiologists upstairs, one of them told me that one of the really scary things is how this virus seems to get stronger over time. In other words, what they have extracted from victims to test and run experiments with seems to have gotten stronger. I’m telling you guys this because with al-Razi and Ahmed running around, whatever of the zombie virus they have left is going to be even more dangerous.”
“It already turns people into murderous, flesh-eating monsters,” said Luis. “How can it be any worse?”
“For one thing, it looks like the speed of death to turning into a zombie is much faster. And, when they injected the stronger virus into laboratory rats, they became stronger and faster zombies in a much quicker time. In other words, we’ve seen the time of infections vary widely from minutes or maybe even days before turning people. It loo
ks like from here on out, minutes is going to be the norm, rather than hours or days.”
“Nice. I do love my job,” said Scotty.
“One last thing,” said Rebecca. “With the war between the United States and Iran just getting started, there’s a real concern that there will be more attacks like the ones we’ve already seen involving the zombie virus. There’s no way that Iran can beat us in a conventional war. With these bio-terror attacks, though, they’ve really hurt us. We need to try and find Amir and Mohamud. There may be more terrorists operating in Atlanta, but we know these guys and we need to find them as quickly as we can.”
MARTA Station, City of Chamblee, Thursday, 1100 hours
Jimmy pulled the Ford Interceptor into the MARTA parking lot and parked behind the marked City of Chamblee police cruiser. The Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority is Atlanta’s rail system and covers the city thoroughly. Jimmy, Alejandro, and Chris got out to talk to the uniformed police officer who was parked near a silver Honda Accord. The CDC officers were all wearing their tactical equipment. They had been training at a shoot house and had come straight from there when Chamblee PD had called them.
A young Asian officer shook hands with the three federal officers. “I’m Corporal David Lee. Thanks for coming out.”
“What have you got?” Jimmy asked.
“This silver Honda is the one that you guys have been looking for. It’s registered to Mohamud Ahmed. He did a switcheroo with the license plate. He stole the tag that’s on it from another Honda Accord and probably put his plates on that car. This one isn’t even reported as stolen yet.”
“Good work,” said Estrada. “How’d you find it?”
“We got the look out you guys issued for his car and I was just checking the parking lot. I drive through here a few times a shift to keep an eye on things. This isn’t the best part of town so we try to maintain high visibility in the area. I figured that since I was here anyway, I’d run the three silver Accords that were parked in the lot. This one wasn’t here a couple of hours ago.
