by Jay Vielle
“Decent,” said Jake. “I was only so-so with a bow and arrow on this trip, he said, glancing over his shoulder and sharing a rare smile with his sons.”
“Yeah, try not to f—this one up, Dad. We might not be there to save you like we did with the bow and arrow screw up,” said Vinny.
“I’m sure that’s a story I’m going to want to hear on the way over,” said the Colonel.
The Colonel turned to Wendy, his erstwhile partner at Fort Detrick in Frederick.
“Wendy, if Jake and I are able to tranquilize Mrs. Fisher, it will be up to you to administer the REGN-EB3. This one’s totally on you, and it’s experimental. You could save her-- you could kill her. I have to tell you, this kind of op was not on our radar at all. We had determined the need to terminate the mutates with prejudice. We were never preparing to save any of them. If any of this works, you’ll get credit for it,” said the Colonel. “And it would be world-changing.” Wendy went up on her tip-toes and kissed the Colonel on his cheek.
“Thank you for doing this, Ray. I know how much trouble this was—and may yet still be for you,” Wendy said. The Colonel smiled.
“Seriously, Colonel. We can’t thank you enough,” said Jake.
“I literally owe you my life, Marine. This is small payback, but the best I can do at the moment,” said the Colonel. Jake smiled, looked him in the eye, shook his hand, and grasped his shoulder with the other hand.
“Okay, can you two finish flirting please, so we can get on with this?” I said.
“Is he always like this?” asked the Colonel.
“Always,” said Jake.
We suited up, grabbed our gear, and moved to the loading dock where a large Humvie waited for us.
“I thought I heard you ask for a Jeep,” I said.
“Too small. First sergeant saw our numbers and immediately made the change,” said the Colonel.
“Damn. He’s a good guy to have around,” I said.
“You have no idea,” said the Colonel. We hopped in the Humvie after Jake and the Colonel put their guns in the back.
“You want to drive, Jake?” asked the Colonel. A dressed soldier walked up the Colonel and leaned towards him.
“Sir, no civilian personnel are permitted to drive Pentagon vehicles,” said the soldier.
“Marine lieutenant, retired,” said the Colonel. “And I don’t remember asking your opinion, soldier.”
“Yes sir,” was his reply. Jake smiled as the Colonel tossed him the keys.
Jake pulled out of the Pentagon parking lot and eased onto the highway. “What route do you want to take, Colonel?” Jake asked.
“Well, my feeling is that we should drive north on the GW Parkway and take the Arlington Memorial Bridge across. You’ll get a complete view of the Mall from there, pulling up just behind the Lincoln Memorial. We can hold up there until we get reports of whereabouts for that pack. First Sergeant Ambrosian has notified our eyes in that area. We have a number of strike forces at key spots in the city, and two of them on the Mall. I should be hearing something soon,” said the Colonel.
We rode up the George Washington Parkway and saw the beautiful few from Ladybird Johnson Park alongside the Potomac River. As we merged onto Arlington Memorial Bridge, I could see the exits for Arlington Cemetery. I started to get goose bumps. The wind was blowing in our hair, as we had not yet pulled up our HAZMAT hoods, and my arm was hanging out the window as I rode past monuments. The whole thing was surreal. I felt like we were going into battle. Hell, we looked like we were going into battle.
The Colonel then put on the radio and turned it to a classical station. Seriously? Classical. At a moment like this, in a Humvie, I thought we should be riding into some classic rock from the 60’s. And then I was shown the error of my ways. The station began to play “The Gael” by Dougie McClean. It was the theme song of the 1992 flick, Last of the Mohicans, where Daniel Day-Lewis runs through the woods assaulting various murderous Huron war parties. If you’ve never seen it, you need to. My goose bumps went to full chills. I even saw Jake’s grin grow wide when it began, and he cranked it up high. The boys nodded in agreement, and Wendy looked like she was glowing. I’m such a nerd.
As we crossed the river the chills began to take hold, and I realized that this was it. This was what we had come for, what we had planned for, what we had fought for, stolen for, and endured hardship for. This moment. This opportunity. And the gravity of it came to me all at once. The Fisher men’s lives had changed, just like the rest of us, but the rest of their lives had not been determined yet. The outcome of this quest would determine that. And the gravity of it began to send massive doubts through my spine. What if we failed? What if we couldn’t find her? What if we did find her, but she was already dead? What if we found her, but couldn’t capture her? What if we were forced to kill her? Or the worst, cruelest possibility I could think of—what if we found her, captured her, treated her, and then she died? It’s rare when you can realize in the moment when you are embarking on a life-changing adventure. It can make you overthink everything if you’re not trained for it. I don’t know if the boys were. Jake tells me that wrestling prepares you for everything. That after you’ve wrestled, everything else in life is easy. Not sure that philosophy covered situations like this one. The boys had their game faces on again. That was hopeful at least. As I was crumbling here in the back seat, at least the men around me were ready.
Then I looked at Wendy. What must she be thinking? The men had a lot of work to do, and would need help from people all around them. Even so, if all of them did their work and successfully and safely secured Laura Fisher, then Wendy would have her turn. Was she right? Would the Ebola treatment she mentioned do the trick? She had no way of knowing. None of us did. These creatures were transformed by radiation and virus and their own DNA. Wendy, no matter how skilled, no matter how bright—could not promise anyone anything. If she failed, what would happen to her psyche. I know she felt something for Jake. She said as much. She told me to back off and trust her, and I guess that I did trust her. But the consequences of her success or failure sat not only upon that outcome, but how the men in the vehicle actually felt about it after the smoke was cleared. I worried for her, and I didn’t even know why. Her stake in this was minimal. The boys’ stake was everything. Their whole lives.
As if that wasn’t enough, then I started wishing I had more stake in this life. Jake was my friend, maybe even my adopted family. But my parents were in this town somewhere. And I was alone. I had nobody. There was no one I was risking my life for, nobody I was slugging a soldier for, riding a horse for, stealing boats for. I was alone in this. Suddenly I felt completely alone in a vehicle full of people. I looked around and questioned every relationship I’d ever had and how they had led to this moment.
I was thinking too much again. This goddamn music was doing it to me. I needed to snap out of it.
CHAPTER 16
We crossed the river and eased up to the Lincoln Memorial. The Colonel suggested we take a lap around the Mall. He had called in the vehicle and instructed it to be left alone at checkpoints.
“We’ll need to check in first. Jake, pull over here by the Smithsonian. We’re cleared to be here, no one will disturb us. I’m going to try to contact Strike Force Charlie.”
“Colonel, who is Charlie?” I asked. “Isn’t that the word for Vietnamese?” I got a look from Vinny as he cut his eyes.
“Charlie is the name of this particular unit. We give them an alphabet letter from the military. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta. You know. Well this one is Charlie. We also have Echo in this vicinity,” the Colonel said.
“An echo? Out here?” I asked. “Like in a canyon?”
“Oh my God, Mr. Reyes, shut up,” said Tommy.
“You bitches have no sense of humor,” I said.
“Right now? Are you kidding me?” asked Vinny.
“Boys, Mr. Reyes does this when he’s nervous. He starts going diarrhea of the mouth corny-ass punch li
nes non-stop to cover up his nerves. It’ll pass,” said Jake. “We might die of bad comedy exposure before it does pass, but it will pass eventually.” The Colonel laughed.
“Echo, this is Eagle One, over,” said the Colonel.
“Copy Eagle One, Echo standing by, over,” came the voice on the walkie talkie.
“Eagle One, we are at the rendezvous point. I need a location on the target, over,” said the Colonel.
“Roger that, Eagle One. Stand by. Clear,” said the voice.
“Eagle One, standing by,” said the Colonel.
I wanted so bad to be a smart-ass right now. My nerves were driving me insane, and Jake was right—I do get especially snarky when I’m nervous, and I was about a 10 out of 10 in nerves. The tension was thick enough to spread on a sandwich. The boys were holding their collective breath. Wendy was as still as a picture. I was shaking a little.
“Eagle One, this is Echo Unit, do you copy?” asked the voice.
“Echo, Eagle One, Copy Lima Charlie,” said the Colonel.
“Lima Charlie?” I whispered.
“Stands for loud and clear,” the Colonel whispered back.
“Eagle One, target is about half a click East of your location and moving your way. Currently in front of the American Indian Museum, over.”
“Echo, do you have a count, over,” asked the Colonel.
“Eagle One, Roger that. Target is showing four, that’s fo-er individuals. Do you copy? Over.”
“Echo, this is Eagle One, we copy, loud and clear,” said the Colonel. “Four individuals. We will need back-up on the ground and the paramedic unit standing by, over.”
“Wilco, Eagle One. Over and out.” The Colonel strapped his walkie-talkie on his uniform inside the HAZMAT suit and got out of the Humvie.
“You’re up, Marine,” the Colonel said to Jake. “Let’s see what kind of shot you are. Wendy, get your bag ready. Boys, Eddie—get ready to restrain the target. We can’t let her get away. Tommy, reach into the pocket of that bag hanging over the back seat. Do you feel them?” asked the Colonel.
“Zip-ties?” asked Tommy.
“Roger that. You may need to put them on your mother. Wrists and ankles. Give a set to your brother,” the Colonel said.
“Yes sir,” said Tommy. “You ready, Vin?”
“I guess so. Too late to back out now, right?” said Vinny.
The Colonel pulled out a large set of binoculars and looked through them towards the Native American Indian Museum. The mutates were supposedly in the bushes in front. I had gone there once in high school on a field trip with—who else? —Mr. Fisher’s History class. I remember it had the most aweseome cafeteria with all kinds of indigenous inspired food. I recall it have some really cool displays as well. There was even one there for my people—the Inca—of South America. Now we were a couple of blocks away from it and waiting for a ravenous band of mutated people led by my friend’s wife. Surreal.
“They’re staying close to the buildings, Jake. That’s not good,” said the Colonel.
“Why not?” I asked.
“It means that if we surprise them we may be too close. They could attack or hide behind nearby obstacles, blocking our shots and putting us in danger. We really need to flush them out into the open center of the Mall. It will give us the clearest shot there.”
“What would get them out there?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not sure they would be scared off by us, more the contrary. And Echo Unit is too far to come down and start shooting—they’ll be here by then. They do chase after anything they can eat,” said the Colonel, almost to himself.
“Okay,” I said. “Time to earn my keep.”
“What are you doing?” Wendy said frantically.
“I’m not strong enough to hold down a mutate, I don’t know how to handle a gun. But I was the fastest kid on the soccer team in high school. You guys have sacrificed plenty on this trip. I’m just dead weight. Time for me to earn my keep, I said.
“Eddie, don’t be stupid,” said Jake.
“Way too late for that,” I said, and I took off running towards the open center field of the Mall. It was massive. I crossed the street in front of the Smithsonian’s main office, “The Castle,” and bolted through the small line of trees in front of it. From there, it was wide open. I had been here when they had massive demonstrations, tournaments, concerts. There was lots of room to run. But I had to catch their attention, so I started singing at the top of my lungs. What song, you ask? What else—Eye of the Tiger by Survivor. I have no idea why, but I felt like Rocky in his third movie, so out I went.
“Rising up, right from the stree-heet, took my time, took my cha-hances,” I sang.
It didn’t take them long at all. Three of the four bolted through the trees right for me. They ran like apes, sometimes on all fours, sometimes knuckles barely touching the ground, kind of at an angle. The noise they made was horrifying, somewhere between a screech and a wail.
“Oh shit, here they come,” I said out loud. “But where’s Laura?”
“Dad, I see three of them, but not Mom. Where is she?” asked Tommy.
“I don’t know, son. She must be hiding in the trees,” Jake said.
“Shit, those things are fast. They’re closing on Mr. Reyes,” said Vinny.
“Jake, get your dart ready,” said the Colonel.
“Locked and loaded sir. But the main target is not visible.”
I couldn’t wait. I took off running down the Mall. I passed the direct line of sight of Jake and the Colonel and kept sprinting towards the Washington Monument. I was staying ahead of them, but they weren’t slowing. I wasn’t sure how long they could keep up, but was afraid their mutation might push them literally until they dropped without thinking. And I was already thinking I was getting tired.
“Dad, she’s not coming out,” yelled Tommy.
“I know, son. She’s smart. She probably expects a trap,” said Jake. “Colonel, what do we do?”
The Colonel was silent. He looked at the running ape-like mutates starting to gain ground on me, looked back at the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laura Fisher, then back at the mutates.
“Colonel, please advise,” said Jake.
“Take the last one,” said the Colonel.
“What? Why?” said Jake.
“Take the last one. Just do it. Now, while it’s in range,” he said. “If we don’t get Laura now, we can experiment on this one. See if the treatment works with no risk to her.”
“You’re right,” said Jake.
Jake lowered the scope onto his target and followed it. He took two slow, deep breaths, then squeezed the trigger.
Bullseye.
The tranquilizer dart hit the last mutate right between the shoulder blades. It writhed in pain, arching its back and trying in vain to reach the dart. It spun and howled, dropped to the ground and tried to rub the dart off itself. After a few rolls it was successful. The dart came out, but the shot had done its job, and the mutate was slowing.
I was elated. I even did a Rocky jump with both hands up and yelled ‘yes,’ and pumped my fists.
Then I noticed that the first two mutates were closing on me fast.
“Holy Fuck,” I yelled, and turned and began sprinting again. I closed on the Washington Monument and high-tailed it past 12th Street. They showed no signs of slowing.
“Medic One, Medic One. This is Eagle One, do you copy?” asked the Colonel.
“Eagle One, this is Medic One. We copy, Lima Charlie.”
“Medic One, we have a target down, we will need restraint system. Do you copy?” said the Colonel.
“Wilco, Eagle One. We copy. We are on the move. We see the target.”
“Medic One, alert Medic Two. This is not the Main Target. I repeat, this is not the Main Target. Restrain the downed target and alert Medic Two. Main target is still at large. Do you copy?”
“Copy Loud and Clear, Eagle One. Wilco. Medic One en route, Medic Two being alerted.
>
“Jake, get in the car,” said the Colonel.
“Why?” said Jake. “The mutate is down.
“That’s not the problem. The medics will get the downed one,” said the Colonel.
“So what’s the problem?” asked Jake.
“Eddie’s in trouble,” said the Colonel.
And I was. My lungs were burning now and I could feel my legs starting to wear down. I crossed 14th Street and was coming up the slight incline right by the Washington Monument. There was open ground everywhere. My instincts were telling me to find a place to hide. Find something to put between me and the mutates. I looked past the Washington Monument and got an idea. I was hoping I could lose them at the World War II Memorial. Tall structures, even some water, steps. Anything to slow them down. But for now, they were picking up speed. And I was giving up ground.
Jake jumped in the Humvie and did a U-turn on the sidewalk and took out a fence post in front of the Mall, narrowly missing the statue of Joseph Henry. Vinny winced, expecting his dad to hit the statue. He sped the wrong way down an empty Jefferson Drive towards me and the Washington Monument.
“Echo One, Echo One, May Day. This is Eagle One. We need assistance. One of our unit is being chased by two targets, just beyond the Washington Monument. We need targets terminated with prejudice, pronto,” said the Colonel.
“Negative Eagle One, we are not in position for that shot. We are too far away sir.”
“Echo One what is your location?”
“We’re on top of the Capitol building, sir. We have a drone there, but it is not weaponized. We see your guy. He’s in a HAZMAT suit moving west towards the World War II Monument. Targets are closing fast. That suit is slowing him down.
“Echo One, how about Charlie One?” said the Colonel, frantically.
“Negative Colonel. They are across town. Can you take the shot, sir?’
“We’ll see, Echo One. Stand by,” said the Colonel.
“Vinny, get that large briefcase in the back,” said the Colonel. Vinny unstrapped his seat belt and reached over the top and hauled a large plastic case into the seat with him, almost hitting Wendy and his brother.