In Harm's Way (27 page)

“Good grief... the chow hall is the
one place
on a military installation... any branch for that matter... where innuendo, rumor and plain ol’ bullshit gets passed along as
fact
. Hell... word of this probably spread faster than a Bangkok whore’s legs and probably more efficiently than
Omega
itself,” Desantos railed.

“I’m sorry. It was never our intention to leak this because there is no way of knowing if the antiserum is going to be effective long term. I fully intended on waiting until we observed him for at least twelve more hours before bringing it to your attention. In a perfect world we would study Mister Luckiest Man on the Planet for weeks or months before getting our hopes up. For all I know Mister Stockton could still be carrying the virus... he may even succumb later and die...
again
.”

Desantos finally relented and rubbed his rheumy eyes. “My hopes were riding high, Doctor. I was looking forward to interrogating this
Alpha fucker
. Pardon the language unbecoming of a General... but I’m damn tired.”

Suddenly the air pressure changed inside the room and Doctor Hanson backed her way through the hanging slats of the inner air seal, a cup of steaming coffee in each small fist. Upon seeing the General chatting with her mentor, the usual demure civilian scientist suffered a sudden bout of Tourettes. “Oh fuck me... shit. Forgive me for the potty mouth General... curse words usually
are not
in my vernacular. Take this Doctor... but be
very
careful it’s
hot
. I just got some on my hand,” she lied.

Five-foot-two-inch Jessica Hanson squirmed as the intimidating soldier glared in her direction.

“Ms. Hanson,” Desantos growled.

“Yes sir?” She stood rooted and wrung her hands, waiting for the boom to drop.

Desantos bowed his head, letting his chin rest on his sternum, and began to work the back of his neck. “Every person on this base... all the way down to the door kickers and the sharpshooters culling the dead downtown… are abuzz about your
cure,
Ms. Hanson. Will you kindly bring
me
up to speed about your
cure,
Ms. Hanson?”

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I was so tired... the highs and the lows. I just blurted it out.” She shook her head slowly side to side. “Believe me, I tried to reel the words back in but I couldn’t spin it any other way.”

Fuentes sipped his coffee and watched the woman wilt under the General’s line of questioning.
Maybe she’s finally going to learn from this
, he thought.

Desantos raised his head and looked the lady in the eye. “The genie’s out of the bottle now... so we’re going to have to keep up this charade no matter what happens to Mr. Stockton. The morale of the soldiers, marines, airmen and even the civilians in Springs depends on it.”

Thinking the civilian scientist had learned her lesson, Fuentes intervened. “Doctor Hanson, go and check Stockton’s vitals and let me know immediately if there are any changes... for the better or the worse.”

Hanson, feeling like she was being sent on a time out, cast her eyes down and said, “Right away sir.” Then she addressed the General directly. “Once again... I am embarrassed and very sorry for my actions... if I could turn back time I certainly would.”

“You and me both, now carry on ma’am,” Desantos said dismissively.

Once Hanson was out of ear shot Fuentes continued. “Are you saying we are to
lie
to them? Because this
charade
will require quite a bit of
lying
... and not just the
little white lie
type either,” he said, clearly taken aback.

“You used that man like a lab animal and you already lied by omission... in a roundabout way, and for both of your sakes you better pray the agent pulls through,” Desantos warned.

“Doctor... General...” Hanson blurted as she frantically burst through the inner air seal. “Mr. Stockton’s condition has changed.”

Fuentes sensed the first ice pick stab of the migraine probing his brain.
Maybe it’s payback for putting six inches of hypodermic in Stockton’s brain and prolonging his agony
, he thought as he dug his thumbs into his temples. The doctor flattened his lab coat with both palms and composed himself, fully ready to perform last rites and fire up the cranial bone saw and see what went wrong under Agent Stockton’s dome. Fuentes, not awed by rank, went through the air seal ahead of the General.

Hanson leaned over the gurney, eclipsing the patient’s upper body and head.
After Fuentes angled around Hanson he noticed that the man was still tethered to the bed, but oddly he wasn’t fighting his restraints.
That is odd
, he thought,
maybe he is finally dead and didn’t really turn after all
. Stranger shit had happened in the world of science. At any rate, Fuentes was going to pick the man’s brain,
literally,
and see how Omega had reacted to the antiserum.

“Hanson, check his liver temperature so we’ll have a better idea of time of death.”

“No need Doctor,” Hanson said without looking up from whatever she was doing.

Desantos, clearly agitated, said, “Now is not the time to start doing things your way,
Doctor
Hanson... you are already skating on thin ice.”

Hanson backed away from the bed, a wan smile crossing her face. “He’s pulled through. I was leaning in so I could hear what he had to say. He wants to know if Gill or Jessie made it out of the airport a
live... it seems they were onboard another helicopter.
I told him I didn’t know.” She looked at the General and continued. “And that’s the truth... I’m not in the business of lying.”

Desantos shot her a chilly look and took Fuentes by the elbow to confer in private. “What’s the best prognosis?” he inquired.

“If he’s asking questions... with specificity... pretty
damn
good I think. He was gone.
Dead
. No pulse or respiration for six minutes with no oxygen getting to his brain. I am amazed he’s even able to talk, let alone hold a conversation or ask questions. It’s either a miracle from on high or Omega can be beaten. You can go ahead and speak with him General. It’s not going to kill him...” Fuentes offered.

Desantos had to see it with his own eyes. He didn’t believe anything could defeat the virus. It even looked like God had thrown in the towel and said, “
No mas mankind, you’re on your own
.”

DHS Agent Archie Stockton was hooked to a heart monitor. His heartbeat depicted by moving green pixels steadily and silently blipped along. Desantos marveled at the man’s skin tone
--
it was about the same color as Mike Junior’s. This man, he thought, looked healthier than most. Desantos wavered, wondering whether he should try to talk to the big man.
Fuck it
. “Agent Stockton, can you hear me? My name is Mike... I heard you had a hell of a flight from New Mexico. Hanson told me you had some friends and fellow agents that you were concerned about.”

S
tanding on her tip toes, Hanson whispered a quick reminder in the General’s ear, “Gill and Jessie
are the names of his fellow agents.”

Desantos leaned close to the agent and said, “Archie, I understand Gill and Jessie were on another helo.”

The mere mention of the fellow agents caused the man to stir. He slowly opened his eyes a crack. “Can you kill the lights?” he said, his voice raspy and hoarse.

“Hanson, extinguish these,” Desantos said, pointing at the bank of klieg lights hanging over his head. “How are you feeling Agent Stockton?”

After taking an inventory of his body, the agent said, “My whole body feels like I’m being jabbed with pins and needles... like when your foot falls asleep and then wakes up, only much worse and all over.”

Fuentes moved to the foot of the bed and took over the questioning. “Do you remember being bitten?”

The agent shook his head vehemently, denying the doctor’s allegation. “No. Not a chance. One got ahold of my shoe while another... a kid. A fuckin’ dead kid tried to climb me like a ladder. I remember it clawing my leg and then falling away from the Black Hawk.”

Desantos stood silently, hands on hips.

“What else?” Fuentes asked. He noticed the man’s heart rate spike.

“Just waking up to the pretty lady’s face... that’s it.”

Fuentes eyed the monitor and said, “Get some rest. I’m going to see that we have some food here for you in case you get hungry.”

Holding his hand up, “Can you free me?” the agent asked.

Fuentes remained silent and let the General field the question.

“Unfortunately... not just yet, it’s for your safety Agent Stockton. But soon...” Desantos said nodding his head. He hated playing the bad guy when he didn’t want to.

“Fuentes, a moment in private please,” Desantos said. Then he followed the wiry doctor into the autopsy room.

The rancid-smelling Alpha perked up; its cold emotionless eyes tracked the meat across the room.

Fuentes was growing tired of the operator’s brash personality and in-your-face attitude. He stood his ground, looking up at the tall warrior. “
Yes General?
”

“Good work Doctor, but keep this under wraps until that man moonwalks from one end of this tent to the other. I want
you
to make the call. Anything you need to make more of the antidote or... ”

“Antiserum,” Fuentes said correcting the General.

“Anything at all... get a hold of me personally or Freda Nash if I’m not available. Please keep an eye on Hanson from here on out. No more solo safaris for her.”

Desantos’ sudden display of respect surprised Fuentes. He shook the General’s hand and said, “We will get to work on the next batch right away and I’ll be sure to keep Hanson in check. Also I wanted to thank you and your men for rescuing us from the CDC. I wasn’t so gung ho about leaving at the time... but it was the right move.”

“My pleasure Doctor,” Desantos said as he parted the air lock.

“
Hanson!
” Fuentes yelled.

The Alpha cracked every vertebra in its neck whipping its head around to see where the noise originated from.

“Stand down
Archie
,” Fuentes said with a small chuckle.

Hanson poked her head through the slats. “Is he gone?” she asked.

“Forget about the General. What you did was incomprehensible. If what the General told me is true... the whole base is riding high on a pink cloud.”

With a pained look on her face Hanson silently held her arms to the front, palms up. It was an apologetic show of submission that she used when the words wouldn’t come.

Fuentes knew that Hanson’s transgression wasn’t deliberate and it pained him to discipline her. He had always considered her the daughter he never had. Furthermore she was the hardest working and most detail oriented co-worker he had ever had the pleasure of working with in a lab setting. “Do not let it happen again,” he whispered. “Let’s get to work. We need to brainstorm and find a way to mass produce enough antiserum to keep the soldiers going so they can clean up the United States. If we are successful then mankind just might survive this little Omega beastie.”

Outbreak - Day 9

Mess Hall, Schriever AFB

It was well after midnight and without a doubt Brook, Raven and whoever else was bunking in the Grayson hut at the moment were fast asleep.

Cade firmly believed the mission wasn’t over until his weapons were put to bed wet. He broke down the Remington, swabbed the barrel and cleaned and oiled all of the moving parts with his old friend Hoppe’s No. 9. He took his time and meticulously reassembled the sniper rifle, double checking the bolt and the trigger pull. Lastly he inserted a magazine and cycled a few rounds through the high powered beast. His trusty Glock 17 received the same breakdown, cleaning, and scrutiny and then went back into the holster on his thigh. The SCAR didn’t require his attention because the only action it saw was the butt stock-to-teeth variety.

Earlier Desantos indicated that he had something to take up with Fuentes and he had set off alone to the research tent.
Lopez and Maddox stayed behind with Ari, Durant and Hicks helping them prep the helo for the next day’s mission.

Cade decided to go get a bite or at the least some of Schriever’s famous paint-removing coffee. Sleep when you die,
that
should be the motto of the Tier-One operator, Cade mused.

***

Cade passed on the eggs. He noticed they were runnier than usual.
Must be getting low on powder.
A handful of health missiles and a big cup of caffeine would have to pass for a meal.
The little sausages (that were
not
on Brook’s short list of approved foods) were the closest thing to real protein he had eaten in a couple of days. Even doused with a gallon of Tabasco, the bland packaged MREs that had sustained him for days just didn’t taste like food.

Good thing Brook wasn’t around to cluck her tongue and remind him what ingredients went into a sausage. Being married to a nurse sure had its advantages, and unfortunately its drawbacks. He was thankful the advantages far outweighed the latter.  Cade smiled inwardly. He wished it wasn’t so late. He badly wanted to see Brook and Raven before he was pulled away on the next op. Lord knows he could definitely use a little company to help take his mind off of the men he had just sent to hell.