by David Spell
Introductions were made and Johnson offered them coffee. She started off by telling them that her step-father was a retired green beret. He had told her that if she really wanted to know what was going on in an area, talk to the SF teams that were there. That got the two soldier’s attention.
Rebecca laid everything she had on the table. She asked them if they had heard anything about some crazy new chemical weapon. The two soldiers looked at each other. The captain nodded at his sergeant.
“Ma’am, we've heard some of the rumors. Rumors about some kind of crazy drug or chemical that kills some people and turns others into monsters. And we've talked to some villagers who claim to have seen some of these dead people come back to life and start trying to eat people.”
“Did you guys report any of this?”
The captain sighed. “Who are we going to report it to? No one is going to take these stories seriously. No disrespect, ma’am, but we've given good, confirmed intelligence to the Agency about different things that was never acted on. Why would we report something as crazy as this?”
Rebecca nodded. “I understand. It does sound crazy. What did you think when you talked to those villagers who claimed to have seen these things? Were they making it up? Were they drunk? Were they crazy? Or were they believable?”
The captain and sergeant looked at each other again. They weren’t used to the CIA asking for their opinion. The sergeant spoke up. “Ma’am, they seemed reliable. In a couple of cases, the village elders were the ones telling us this stuff. And they sure seemed to believe it.”
She nodded again. “I felt the same way when I interviewed my witnesses. What they were saying made no sense, but it was clear to me that they believed it. Would you guys be willing to help me?”
“What do you need us to do, ma’am?”
“I want to get closer to the border. There is a village that some of my contacts have told me we need to check out. They promised that all the proof we need is there, inside that village.”
“Why don’t you just let us do that, ma’am? There's no need for you to go.”
“I think there is. You said yourself that the Agency doesn't listen very well. I need to go and see what kind of proof is there. If it's bogus or bad intel, so be it. But if this is something new that the Iranians have cooked up, our government needs to know about it. I'll document it and make sure the evidence gets to the right people. But I need you guys to get me to that village.”
They were sitting in the parking lot of Rebecca’s apartment complex. She paused in her story, looking out the window, lost in thought.
“So, what happened? What'd you find in that village?” Chuck asked.
She looked at him. “It was just like today, Chuck. The entire village was full of zombies. We drove in in Humvees and then we stopped and walked in the last kilometer. We could smell them, the death and decay, from hundreds of meters away. Everyone in that village, men, women, and children had turned. They must have smelled or heard or saw us coming and then the fight was on. We counted sixty-three bodies when it was all over.
“There were six SF guys, me, and our interpreter. We ended up putting all the zombies down but I thought we were going to die. I only had my Glock with me and I burned through most of my ammo. I never went anywhere without a rifle after that.
“After all the shooting, I took some blood and DNA samples and that was the beginning of the zombie virus investigation. I also managed to get a short smart phone video before the shooting started.”
“I can’t believe those guys never mentioned anything about that to me," said Chuck.
“Operational Security. Those special forces guys are good at keeping secrets. I turned everything in to my boss at the field office and he forwarded it on to Washington. The wheels started turning, but very slowly. Even with the video and the DNA and blood samples, there was no immediate response other than the order to keep gathering intelligence.
“The last President wasn't known for his aggressive stance against terrorism. He always seemed more worried about offending terrorist nations than about protecting his own. We had a chance to get ahead of the virus but now it looks like we may have waited too long to act.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the new day dawning. The sky was just starting to turn pink.
“You know,” said Rebecca, “I saw you one time over there, in Afghanistan.”
“Oh, yeah? Hopefully, I wasn’t picking my nose or anything.”
She chuckled. “I was with two of the SF guys. They were going to go with me to interview some people but they needed to stop by the team house and pick something up. I stayed in the truck. You were lifting weights in that outdoor gym they had. You didn't have a shirt on, just like when I came to your house to try and hire you. I have to admit, I was impressed.”
He smiled. “I knew it. You've been stalking me.”
"I told the captain that I was being transferred back to the US to keep working on this investigation. I hinted that we were going to establish a presence in America to work on containing this thing. I tried to recruit him and some of his guys. None of the team guys were interested in getting out but the captain and the team sergeant both told me that I needed to recruit you. I'm glad I listened to them."
“So, tell me. What is all of this?” he asked. “Is the CDC Enforcement Unit legit?”
“Totally legit,” she said. “As you know, the CIA is forbidden to work inside the United States. We needed to create a way in which we could work here and try to combat this bio-terror threat. That was why the current President signed the Executive Order to create an enforcement branch in the CDC. We have the full backing of the President.”
“But why not just let the FBI handle it?” he asked.
“Have you ever worked with the FBI? Did you have any dealings with them when you were a local police officer?”
Chuck frowned. “Yeah, and none of the encounters were good. They're a bunch of arrogant…well, you know. They want all of the information you have but don't want to give you anything in return.”
“Exactly. Now, we may not have stopped this thing, but we've definitely slowed it down. Think how much worse today could've been. If we were depending on the FBI or waiting on them to act, the entire city would be infected by now.
“No, our goal from the beginning was to create teams of shooters who could respond quickly and not have to drag around the bureaucracy of some of those bigger agencies. And that's not just here in Atlanta. It's all around the country.”
“Shooters?” he questioned.
“That's what we are, Chuck. Look at who we hired. Of course, you guys are sworn police officers and have arrested people, served search warrants, and conducted investigations, but we knew that we were going to need teams of guys like you who could also come in and put these zombies down.
"You saw how much time we spent on shooting in your training. We didn't just hire anyone. We hired guys with a specific skill set because we knew this day would probably come."
They were still sitting in the Suburban. The adrenaline of the day had finally worn off and they could both feel their bodies asking for rest.
“So, why'd you decide to tell me all of this now?” Chuck asked.
Rebecca looked into his eyes. “Because you asked. Because I trust you. And because you'd already figured most of it out. Please don’t betray my trust. We can’t tell the rest of the guys. If this hit the press, it would cause a major firestorm. And if the media could shut us down, who would follow up on this and fight it? Our focus needs to be on stopping this thing before it sweeps across the country.”
He continued looking into her eyes. “You can trust me,” he said. “I do know that Andy already suspects something.”
“Let him suspect. Just don't confirm anything. He doesn’t need to know.”
She put her hand on the door handle and stopped. “It was really nice talking to you, Chuck. Thanks for listening. It's been a long, long time since I was able
to talk so freely. I probably shouldn’t have but it felt good getting all of that out in the open.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for trusting me. I'll tell you some of my deep, dark secrets sometime.”
She opened the door and got out. “I'll hold you to that, Mr. McCain. See you tomorrow.”
He watched her go up the steps to her apartment. After she was out of sight, he put the SUV in gear and headed for home.
Epilogue
The next day, Sunday, 1005 hours
Alejandro Estrada felt the small jet begin its descent into the John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York City. He had never been on a corporate jet before. His mom and dad would be so impressed, he thought.
He was the only passenger on the plane. Well, the only live passenger. His friend, Marco Connolly, was in a sealed casket in the storage area in the back.
Rebecca had called him Saturday afternoon and told him to be at the airport in Atlanta at 0630 hours on Sunday to escort Marco’s body home. She told him he would be using one of the Department of Homeland Security’s jets on the first leg of the flight. All commercial flights had been cancelled because of the bio-terror attacks. He would have to fly commercial coming home, whenever they started allowing the airlines to operate again. She had gotten him cleared to have his weapon with him on both flights.
The boss also filled him in on the details of the attacks from Friday. Alejandro knew that his teammates had been in the middle of everything but he hadn't heard any specifics. After being there when Marco was murdered, he was especially glad that his teammates were ok. He had watched the various videos from the interstate shooting and had been thrilled to see Fleming and Smith take out that team of terrorists and preventing them from getting to their destination.
Estrada's leg was still bothering him and he had a noticeable limp from where the zombie had bitten him. He had found out first-hand how the bio-terror virus enhanced a dead person’s strength. He was very fortunate to have escaped with only a deep bone bruise because of his kevlar-lined pants.
But now Alejandro had to face Marco’s parents and family. He had run the scenario through his mind, over and over, trying to find something that he could have done differently. If he had been a little quicker to check on him. If he had gone to the back of the house with him. If only. The guilt hung over him like a dark cloud.
Rebecca told him that he could tell Marco’s family the entire story. She said that she trusted him to share it in the most sensitive way that he could. He could edit the story however he wanted to spare them the gory details. With all of the other attacks around the country, including New York, there was no point in trying to cover anything up.
Alejandro limped into the terminal near where the small jet had parked. He was wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a navy blue blazer. His Glock 17 was under his jacket and he had two extra magazines in his pockets along with a folding knife. He was pulling a small carry on bag.
A man in a dark suit with a badge hanging around his neck stepped in front of him.
“Are you Estrada?”
“I am,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Alejandro Estrada.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Detective Frank Walsh. I was friends with Marco. We went through the police academy together.”
Two uniformed officers materialized and stood beside Walsh.
“These guys are part of the escort,” Frank said nodding at them. “Why don’t you guys go make sure he gets unloaded from the plane and then loaded into the van?” They nodded and walked off.
“I’m really sorry about Marco. He was such a good guy. He…” Alejandro felt his eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I…”
“It's going to be a few minutes before we have to leave. Let’s get a drink,” said Walsh. He guided Estrada into one of the airport's bars.
Normally, he didn't drink before lunch. Today was an exception, Alejandro thought.
They sipped their double Jack Daniels over ice and sat in silence for a few minutes.
“I heard you were with Marco when he got killed,” said Frank. “They told us that you tried to save him and got injured yourself.”
Alejandro nodded.
“I'd like to hear the whole story,” said Frank softly. “But, if you'd rather not, I understand.”
Estrada took a sip of his drink and then started talking. He told Walsh everything, including the part about Rebecca having to put him down.
When Alejandro was finished, Walsh wiped his eyes and swallowed the last of his drink.
“How is she, your boss, I mean? That had to be hard.”
“I think it really shook her up. But she didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it because the big attacks started the next day and she was right in the middle of those.”
“She sounds like a tough lady. Please tell her that I understand. She did what she had to do. And I want to thank you for trying to save him. You tried. That's all any of us can do in a situation like that.”
Walsh's words had a cathartic effect on Alejandro. He still felt sad over the loss of his friend but the guilt was gone. They got to their feet and walked out of the airport.
Marco’s flag-draped coffin was loaded into an NYPD van. A marked unit preceded it and a second squad car followed it. They both had their blue lights activated. Alejandro rode with Walsh in his unmarked detective car.
“Normally, we would've had a bigger procession than this but so many of our guys have been transferred to Manhattan. That's where we got hit the worst. They're trying to get a handle on this virus before it spreads throughout the city. I've heard the CDC guys up here have been in the thick of it with our PD guys.”
The body was taken directly to the Catholic church that Marco's family attended. Frank drove Alejandro to the Connolly’s home where he met Marco’s parents. They were so kind and gracious to Estrada that they ended up comforting him as he wept in their arms.
He gave them a sanitized version of Marco’s death and told them of their son’s important role in this new war on terror. Mr. Connolly asked about Alejandro’s background. He told them of his time in the army and of his time with the Los Angeles Police Department and talked about getting recruited to work for the CDC Enforcement Division.
Estrada spent over an hour with the Connolly’s. They thanked him over and over for bringing Marco home and promised to pray for him and the other officers who would continue fighting this war. Alejandro left their home feeling much better. He had drawn strength from them and he was ready to get back to work.
Later, Walsh picked up Estrada from his hotel and took him to Marco’s wake that was being held at his parent’s home. There were a few childhood friends there but most of the attendees were NYPD officers who had worked with Connolly. Alejandro was the special guest and was treated with honor.
Walsh introduced him to the group and without going into great detail, he let everyone know that Alejandro had put his life on the line trying to save Marco. He put his arm around Estrada’s shoulder and told everyone a little of his background, putting special emphasis on his time with the LAPD. He concluded by saying, “So, in light of our honored guest’s background, I'm renaming him “Hollywood.”
Everyone held up their drinks and laughed. “To Hollywood,” they said.
Alejandro held up his glass and smiled brightly. “Thank you for the new name,” he nodded at Frank. “Now, here’s to Marco.”
“To Marco!” the room echoed.
Thank you so much for reading When the Future Ended. I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, would you consider giving me a review on Amazon? Customer reviews are so important for authors and it will help us get the word out to more people about the Zombie Terror War Series.
The second volume of the series, The Darkest Part of the Night picks right up where When the Future Ended leaves off. The zombie terror threat is heating up but so is the relationship between Chuck and Rebecca. Zombie terrorists and a love story! What more could anyone want?
/> To find out a little more about me and my other books, including my non-fiction work, please check out my website at DavidSpell.com.
Thank you so much for reading When the Future Ended. I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, would you consider giving me a review on Amazon? Customer reviews are so important for authors and it will help us get the word out to more people about the Zombie Terror War Series.
The second volume of the series, The Darkest Part of the Night picks right up where When the Future Ended leaves off. The zombie terror threat is heating up but so is the relationship between Chuck and Rebecca. Zombie terrorists and a love story! What more could anyone want?
To find out a little more about me and my other books, including my non-fiction work, please check out my website at DavidSpell.com.
