Independence Day Plague (37 page)

“
Get out of the station!” he shouted. “Central!” he yelled into the earpiece again. “Patch me through to Metro Station Manger in L’Enfant Plaza.”

Sherrie’s voice cut in. “Don’t worry Mike, I’m on it,” as the fifty year old station speakers came to life.

“
May I have your attention please? This station is closing and everyone must exit immediately. No trains will run through here tonight.”

Curses and groans filled the air as people slowly turned and began filtering back up the stairs. The human knot loosened and Dorado moved forward. He thumbed his earpiece again. “Central, patch me through to all units.”

“
Roger, go ahead Lieutenant.”

“
The units guarding L’Enfant station. Until further notice, evacuate the station. No exception. Continue moving them out until you hear from me. Remember what our perp looks like. He's down here somewhere and will try to slip out in the crowds.”

“
You’re wrong.” The unfamiliar voice sounded close behind him.

Stunned, Dorado whirled around, his eyes scanning the crowds. It took a moment for him to realize the voice came through the headset. “Officer, identify yourself.”

“
My name is James Mitchell and I’m near you. I won't leave until I’ve done what I planned to do. The gentleman at the entrance loaned me his com-unit, you might say. He may not have noticed it is missing yet. Too many people were bumping into him.” A dry chuckle followed. “It's truly amazing what technology you can obtain if you know the right person and have enough money.”

Dorado growled, “If you set off that bomb, you’ll leave in a body bag.”

“
So be it.”

Sherrie’s voice cut in again, “Mike, the transmission is coming from upper train level, Green and Yellow platforms near the stairway. He’s right ahead of you.”

Unholstering his gun, Dorado moved out towards the ticket gate area and flashed his badge at the stationmaster in his glass booth. He pointed a finger at the man and the exit. The worried old man nodded once before joining the few still moving towards the stairs. Once through the gate, Dorado pressed his back against the cement wall. The platform was still filled with humanity. A few looked at him with alarm and moved away back into the entrance. The announcement to evacuate continued overhead. Slow to respond, hundreds of people milled about near the inner stairs and towards the train platforms.

Taylor’s voice came across the open channel. “Mike, I’ve got two men on their way down to you on the east side.”

“
Roger.” Then he saw the profile of Mitchell ahead through the crowds, waiting near the glass map stand that stood dead center on the train platform. “Mitchell, freeze! DC Police.”

A few startled screams filled the air as people pushed and ducked to get out of the gun’s path. A baby started to cry. Mitchell stood still for a moment, his back to the officer and arms loose at his side. He slowly raised his arms straight out and turned around.

“
It's not wise to shoot me.” The calm voice came through the com-unit earpiece.

As Mitchell turned slowly, arms outstretched, Dorado saw the black box in his right hand. Mitchell had two fingers pressed tightly down across a white bar while the other three were splayed open. A deadman switch. “They’re armed already.”

Dorado felt his chest tighten. “You don’t want to do that. I’ve been listening to you all day. You’ve been dealt a bad hand. I get that. I understand but you’re not a murderer. Look at these people. We’ve got young kids down here. You want them dying the same way your wife did?”

Mitchell looked pale and sweating. His right hand shook a little as he held the detonator high. “I didn’t want my family to die that way either. We weren’t given a choice.”

“
You have a choice now. We got a lot of kids down here. They don't have to die. Disarm the bomb and I’ll take you somewhere safe. I guarantee we'll take care of you. Your message is out now. No one can stop it. But these people don’t have to suffer.”

“
But they must know. We’ve got to stop the other weapons.”

Dorado stepped closer, gun held along his line of sight. “We need you to help us find the other vials. Think about it Mitchell, you’re the only expert left. We won't even know what we're looking for without you.”

Indecision crossed the man’s pale face. The hand with the trigger dropped a little. “You don’t understand. I’m one of their weapons…”

More muffles screams filled the air as two more men burst through the crowds. “DC Police. Put your hands up!” Cardell screamed.

Dorado shouted, “Cardell, no. Wait!” as Mitchell turned slowly towards him, extending the switch box.

Three shots caught Mitchell in the shoulder, chest and stomach. The man swung around with force of the impact, the box flinging out across the tracks. He fell against the bloodied map stand, then rolled onto the ground.

Within seconds, mini explosions fired off across the upper and lower platform as each ten-foot air handler blew out its grating. Bits of plastic debris rained down across the shrieking, panicking crowd followed by a fine mist spray shooting out from every air handler in every direction. The screams and crying became deafening as people stampeded away from the air handlers. Some dashed back to the ticket gates while others pushed away from the air handlers towards the train rail openings, pushing others down into the five-foot pits.

Dorado shouted into his com unit. “All units, we have a biohazard incident. Close the station down! No one leaves the station! Everyone is assumed infected. Do you have that? No one leaves the station!”

Taylor’s voice replied, “Roger, boss. We’ll stop them.”

Charro responded. “South entrance secured.”

After fifteen seconds, the sprays stopped. Dorado holstered his weapon and looked around. He tapped off the earpiece and swore, fighting down the rising panic. Marburg killed by bleeding out. For a second he pictured that the sticky wetness that dripped down the walls and drops gleamed across the red brick floor was turning black eating away the stone. In his head, the screaming frightened people turned from white face to red bloody masks, to blackened corpses. They were all infected. Everyone around him was destined to bleed out and die in a matter of days or weeks. “Oh God help us.” He whispered. He shuddered and forced himself back to the reality of the here and now. He started to shout, to gain control of the situation. With their routes blocked, the crowd slowed, turning around again, wiping fluid out of their eyes and mouths. Cardell, back soaked with spray, moved towards Dorado, gun still out and pointed down. “I got the bastard. You saw. I got him.”

Dorado growled at him, “You fucking idiot. Right now that’s not the only thing you got. Everyone’s infected. You, me, everyone. And there’s no cure.”

Cardell’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean?” he asked querulously. “What in hell do you mean?”

Dorado turned away.

“
What have we got, you son of a bitch.” Cardell screamed. “What did he do?”

Dorado snarled, “Get control of yourself and then calm those people. Get the fuck out of my face.”

He walked over to Mitchell’s body. People cleared a circle around them, pressing back away from Mitchell. The dying man's blood mixed with the spray fluid and spread over the platform. Dorado stood, looking down at him. Mitchell’s eyes fluttered open. He gestured with one finger for Dorado to move closer. Dorado squatted down, trying not to touch the wet concrete. The blossom of redness was bright against the man’s white shirt.

Mitchell coughed and redness appeared on his lips, “The people are safe. I couldn’t do it. Too many innocent dead already.” He tried to rise up. “It’s just salt water. I had to make you believe…” He coughed again and grasped his bloodied chest in pain. “You had to know it could happen and will happen soon.”

“
Don’t talk. We’ll get some help for you.”

“
No, too late.” Mitchell smiled. “I’m joining my family.” He wheezed and continued. “This is important. Burn my body. Don’t let people touch the blood. The infectious agent is in there. I am a survivor of Marburg. It didn’t kill me but…” he coughed again, wheezing now. “It may kill them.”

Mitchell moved the left hand from his pants pocket. He opened the fingers towards Dorado. Two small glass vials gleamed in the harsh overhead light. “It’s real. We existed. But I couldn’t use it. Find the other vials before it's too late.” Mitchell closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Dorado pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket. Enclosing the bag around his fingers, he picked the vials out of the limp hand. “Very dangerous,” the man whispered as his breathing slowed to nothing.

The rubber-capped vials held only a thimbleful of light brown liquid each. “God help us all” Dorado whispered again. He sealed the bag up tight and then gently wrapped the small package in his handkerchief before putting it into another sealed bag and in his coat pocket.

Wet people pushed away from the growing pool of blood coming from the body. Dorado looked into their wide eyes. Many of the children were crying. One man yelled, “What’s going on?” Other voices of anger and confusion rose.

Dorado stood and faced them. He shouted to be heard over the crowd, “DC Police. Calm down, everyone. We’re going to be here for a long while. Move away from this area and find a place to sit with your family. Cardell, find someone to shut the escalators off. ”

The crowd murmured restlessly. “We have a right to leave!” one man yelled back.

Dorado faced the crowd. “No sir, you do not.”

“
What’s happened?” a female voice, near hysterics, “Is that the bomber? All day the news has been talking about bomb threats. Is that him? Are we going to die?”

The crowd began to shift restlessly and move towards him. Blood from the body continued to spill on the ground. Dorado looked at it, a blackness oozing over wet red brick. Blood. Spill out. Infection. The words tumbled through his mind. He clenched his teeth, pulled his pistol and swung it at the crowd. A few screamed but they backed off.

“
Everyone, back away from me," he shouted. More shrieks sounded out. He continued more gently, "No one is going to die if you follow my orders.”

One uniformed officer moved closer to the blood pool and faced the crowd, weapon drawn and pointed upwards. Dorado nodded at him. “Okay now, listen up.” He shouted, loud and harsh. “No one leaves the station. If you try to leave, you will be shot, if not by me then by the police waiting at each exit. I need you to move away from this body. The man had a disease.” More gasps and the crowd pressed farther back against the cement railings that enclosed the upper platform. “If anyone has blankets or coats, I need to confiscate them so we can create a dam to stop this blood from spreading.”

Their eyes moved to the body. A brunette clutched her baby, “But you shot him. He's dead.”

“
His blood is still infectious. However, I think everyone will be okay as long as you don’t touch the blood. Help is on the way and we will need your cooperation tonight. Just move as far away as possible and find a place to sit for a while. You can go anywhere in the station as long as you don't try to go up the exit steps or out through the elevators.” After a few minutes, the edge of the crowd thinned as people filtered back into the relatively empty ticket area and lower stairs.

Dorado faced the uniformed officer. "Stay nearby but out of the blood. I'm already here so I need you to help control things."

The man nodded as Dorado pulled out several pairs of plastic gloves from his pocket, handing a set to the young officer.

His earpiece gave off a quick chirp and Dorado thumbed the on switch. Brian’s voice sounded loud, “Mike, you okay? Mike?” Dorado holstered his gun. A few strangers moved forward, dropping blankets and towels nearby. Dorado and the officer began placing them in a wide circle around the blood puddle.

He replied, “I’m here. Mitchell’s dead. We got liquid spray all over the damn place and an infected blood spill. Mitchell said the spray was just water but let’s not take any chances. The bastard had a deadman switch. Get HAZMAT with some decontamination units down here. Tell the HAZMAT leader that we know we have the possibility of Marburg virus in one dead patient. At least two men are potentially contaminated with his blood. We got about four hundred-plus that have been exposed to the clear fluid. No trains are to come through the tracks until we know what was in the spray. No one but HAZMAT comes down into the station. Assume everyone down here is infected.”

"Roger that. We’re secured up here and have alerted the hospitals and HAZMAT. HAZMAT will want to know who got the blood contamination so they can look up his records."

"It's me and possibly Cardell if he was in range for splash back."

"What about the suspect? Was he for real?”

“
Yeah, he gave me the tubes of the virus. I’ve got it in my pocket.”

“
Oh shit!”

“
Yeah partner, so let’s hurry things along, okay. This is going to take the rest of the night. And Brian, one more thing…”

“
Yeah.”

“
Call Sherrie and tell her I’m going to be okay.”

Chapter 17

July 7, 2026

Tuesday began with grey early morning rain. Dorado watched it streak across the window for a while before shifting slightly to read the clock. He had been awake all night of the fourth and most of the fifth as one of the last people decontaminated. He remembered giving his statement and evidence through glass walls in the infectious disease ward of Johns Hopkins. Once they got to him, HAZMAT immediately took the vials and nothing had been said about them since. Although he caught sleep between the seemingly endless tests during the two and half days in the hospital, Dorado felt surprisingly rested. The events of the last two days weighed heavily on him and he drove himself to stay awake to see it through to the end. It was over now but still sleep didn’t come easily.