Caught in the Web

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Caught in the Web Page 14

by Jason R Davis


  “Shit,” he heard the specialist say under his breath.

  Wade wanted to correct him. It wasn’t just shit they were walking in. They were in deep shit, the kind that was deep enough to bury them all…and none of them were ready for it.

  How could they be?

  CHAPTER 11

  What is madness and where does it end? Where does it begin? The world is lost in insanity. Is it because we do things too quickly, or because the world moves too slowly? Decisions take forever to make, but when they are made, systems get put into place to make the process move faster. What happens when life becomes automated? When thought is taken out of the process and the wheels move on their own while the driver is asleep at the wheel? Isn’t that how the worst accidents happen, when no one is awake at the controls? Or did we ever truly have control?

  Not for the first time that morning, the general wondered if maybe that was what was happening. While he wasn’t out on the line, he watched as the different reports came in to him…from the sergeant who was on the inner perimeter, to the colonel who manned the outer perimeter, to the satellite feeds that were updated every half-hour.

  And why? Why was he watching a town being quarantined on American soil? A town they had cut off from the rest of the world and were treating its citizens as though they were prisoners. The people there had rights, and they were treated no better than if they were overseas.

  No, that wasn’t true. So far, they had only locked down the town. Soldiers weren’t patrolling the streets and martial law hadn’t been implemented…yet. Would it ever get to that point? What would make them do that? What would push them that far, and how much farther would they have to go? They were already to the point of inner and outer checkpoints. This was a military offensive against their own people. What would it take to get to that next level?

  He shouldn’t think that way. This wasn’t them fighting an enemy. The troops weren’t there to fight the townspeople. They were there for quarantine. It was for their own good and for the good of the rest of population. Why? They still didn’t know.

  The process was all too damned automated. No one knew what was going on. The process had taken control. Phone calls had been made, and the town had been locked off before the question “why” had even come up. The perimeter had already been established before he had even received that first phone call.

  He was kept in the dark, his office hidden deep within a military bunker just south of Chicago. He was in Joliet, where the military had long ago established their hidden base beneath the public façade of the actual base. A base within a base, secrets within secrets. He was buried so far below that if a nuclear attack was to strike even the outer edge of the city, he would be safe.

  Protocol K called for him to take up shelter there. It wasn’t for all commanders across the country, it didn’t stretch that far, but because he was well within the region the protocol was activated in, he had been moved there and put in direct communication feeds so he could coordinate the situation. He had direct feed to it all. Then he would process it, make what decisions needed to be made, and pass on what information needed to the commander-in-chief and the chief of staff. However, when the time for decisions came, he made them. They were his decisions, but on paper and no names were recorded. He was simply the general, and the president was to be kept in the dark.

  Worst case scenarios had to be considered. The president had to be kept out of the loop so he had deniability, and the general had to be unknown so he had the ability to do what needed to be done without fear of repercussions. But so much was already done before he even decided on anything. So much in a no thought, wheels in motion, automated process.

  He had the report still open on his desk. It was a small folder, and some of the papers that should have been included in it were strewn out over the top cover. He had the dossier on the doctor, Brian Thompson, the man who had called in the protocol. There was also a history on Dr. Samuel Wilson, the doctor who had originally called the CDC.

  It didn’t seem possible that a lonely town doctor could call the CDC, get someone out there the same morning, and that person would call in the quick lockdown protocol. It just didn’t seem like that was possible. Katrina had been a disaster, largely because of how slow the National Guard had been to react, but here were two doctors able to move the United States military faster than the president had when there had been advance warning.

  That just didn’t seem possible, but there they were with a town cut off, and they still had no idea why or with what they were dealing. What had caused all of this? Was this Dr. Thompson some kind of idiot? Well, that seemed like it was a little harsh, and anyone who even knew about Protocol K had to have a significant amount of details about what, why, and how it would need to get called in.

  The man wasn’t a field agent. Would he be the best person to establish such a protocol? What if all of this came down to an over-reaction due to a doctor making a misdiagnosis? It’s not like there are no other protocols. “K” just happened to be the most extreme. There were still all the “A” through “L” protocols, all of which were less drastic. No, “K” was the most severe. The protocol that had been established to move faster than thought.

  The general looked at the picture of the man again. Some scrawny-looking doctor with glasses, just like he would expect to see. Nothing spectacular looked back at him…pinched eyes; long, thin nose. The man looked like he didn’t interact well with people. Not that the general had ever met him, but he just had that sense. Then again, that could just be him stereotyping what he expected. There were many scientists out there, and not all of them were that way.

  No, the general was pretty sure the picture gave off the sense that this man did not like being around people. It was probably one of the reasons the doctor was not out in the field.

  What were they going to do, and how were they going to proceed? The team from Atlanta should be going in soon. He had heard that they had landed not too long ago, and their mobile lab was already en route to the town. One good thing about Protocol K moving so quickly was that those systems that moved without direction moved smoothly, and he just had to hear about the updates. He wasn’t having to call, make plans, or give out orders. For the most part, they were just following off of a checklist, checking things off one by and one when they all locked into place.

  Either way, this was going to be a mess. If the doctor had been right to call it in, they had the job of cleaning it all up. If the doctor was wrong, then they had a bigger mess. How would they handle the media once the news broke? If this went to hell, it was going to be a nasty black eye on the current administration. It was probably a good thing the president didn’t have to worry about re-election, though he doubted there would be another democrat in there anytime soon after this mess.

  Maybe he should just fuck it up.

  Yeah, that would look good on his career, even though his retirement was only a few years away. No matter how it went, it wouldn’t be the worst thing he had ever done. He had many nightmares locked away, hidden behind lost nights of little sleep. Generals don’t become generals by making easy decisions. Nightmares of children screaming and burning babies were a part of his life now. He could never remember from when they were, but they always threatened him on the edges of his sanity.

  Maybe he should just retire and be done with it. He had years left, but he could take early retirement. He shouldn’t have to think about things like this. His time could be done. He didn’t need any of this.

  Yeah, but he could never walk away while the situation was still active. That was just not the way he was wired. No retreat, no surrender. Never walk away from a fight, even when it looked like you couldn’t win. There was no way he could turn away from this now. Maybe lesser men could, but he was not a lesser man.

  “Sir!”

  The general looked up to see Lieutenant Evan standing in the door. Evan had been his assistant for the last six months, and he was glad the kid still had that straig
ht edge to him. The general liked the “pop” to the stance. He hated to see how relaxed officers would usually become. There was nothing like seeing the newer officers still stand straight and have that “Gung Ho” spirit. Though, on bad days, sometimes the general just wanted to smack it out of him.

  He was becoming a grumpy old man, and today was one of the bad days. Right then, he just wanted to bark at the kid, yell at him to go polish some brass or some other menial task just because he seemed too eager to please.

  “Yes, lieutenant. What is it?”

  “We have a report that there are casualties in the town.”

  The general lowered his head. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew it was going to happen soon, but he had hoped he was wrong. He had hoped people would somehow be able to keep their calm so that it wouldn’t escalate.

  “What happened?” He heard the question croak out of him in a voice that he didn’t recognize.

  “I don’t know, sir. We don’t know how many yet. I just know that shots were fired. At least one woman is dead, but it sounded like that was an early estimate. Sergeant Wade hasn’t reported in with official word. We just know that someone tried to run the blockade and they needed to be put down.”

  Put down. The lieutenant spoke of it like they had been putting down an animal that had gotten out of control. Maybe that was one way to look at it. Maybe that was even the right way to look at it as it would do no good for him to start thinking of any of them as people. That was a luxury that he just did not have.

  “Thank you, lieutenant,” said a familiar voice from the hallway. “That will be all.”

  The general looked up to see Major Samuel S. Burns standing in the doorway, returning the young man’s salute, then waving him away. The major stood tall and straight, his silver hair high and tight in the military fashion. He had a handsome face, and it could easily be seen why he was often the “poster boy” for serving in today’s military. However, his smile, spread widely as he looked at the general and made his way into the room to sit down, never touched his eyes. Those cold, dark eyes could look into the general’s and see the sins hidden there. The general always had an uneasy feeling whenever he was dealing with the man, and he had a hard time suppressing the shudder that ran through him as they shook hands.

  Just how much younger the man in front him was, the general couldn’t say. His face always seemed like it never aged, and as long as he could remember, Sam had always been a major, was always around the Oval Office, no matter what president he served.

  “Hey, Sam.”

  “Dale.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “No? Why not. The president thought you might want someone here to whisper in your ear. I volunteered because I thought you might need a friend.”

  “Yeah? Is it getting that bad on the hill? Didn’t even know the president had been briefed yet.”

  “Just that a town was under quarantine due to an unknown biological agent.”

  “Unknown biological? Do you have intel that I don’t? We don’t know what the hell is in there yet. The team hasn’t gone in yet. We haven’t heard from either doctor, the one who called it in or the CDC guy who called in the protocol, and we have now got the town cut off from the outside world. So we have no way of knowing what is going on in there.”

  “Really? I was lead to believe that it was a dirty bomb. That this was a terrorist action.”

  “And from where did you get this?”

  “That’s what is being said on the hill. The NSA caught some chatter that something was in the pipeline. They were quick to jump on it, saying this must be it.”

  “Yeah, in a small town, buried deep in the Midwest, someone launched a biological attack on the U.S.”

  “We don’t know how bad this will spread. Dale, we can’t afford to let some deadly strain of the flu or anthrax get out. All it would take would be one release in small town in Middle America. This could be an attack.”

  “Do you see anthrax in your sleep now?”

  “Don’t you?”

  The general did, or similar attacks, but not for why the younger man envisioned. The general had been on the ground and had seen what chemical warfare was capable of. He had seen how it could melt away the skin, make organs explode inside the flesh, or make boils cover a child from head to toe, killing them within seconds of exposure. He had seen the horrors that had been ordered by the evil in men’s hearts, and he had once been the man who would be there to cover it up so no one ever knew.

  Over too many years of black ops, he had seen the worse that humanity was capable. He did have those nightmares.

  “So what is the situation?”

  “Like I said, unknown. The CDC should be going in soon.”

  “And we have dead bodies? People trying to run the blockades?”

  “As far as I know, just one person is dead. Like I said, you shouldn’t be here. The president needs deniability.”

  “The president can’t take bad press, no matter what it is. As it stands, he is the most unpopular president in U.S. history. He can’t take another hit and expect to get anything through Congress. Right now, he is having to fight just to keep his policies in place and not have them repealed. If this goes south, even his own party will be turning against him. Whether I am here or not, the president is going to get marked by this. It’s a town in the United States. We can’t go holding people against their will without good reason. And we can’t be having loose cannons shooting at people.”

  “What do you expect me to do? We can’t maintain the quarantine if we don’t keep up the pressure. My people need to be able to defend themselves, even against the population.”

  “They need to find another way. This needs to be finished and covered up. It needs to happen quickly, before making it way too far in the press.”

  “How do you expect to do that?”

  “How do you expect to do that?”

  “Sam, you’re not making this easy.”

  A short, clipped knock drew the general’s attention and he quickly called out, “Come.”

  The lieutenant entered, another folder under his arm. “Sir.”

  “Yes?”

  The lieutenant gave a quick look to the major and the general nodded for him to continue. “We have more reports. Sergeant Wade reports there are multiple people dead. They were trying to force their way through the blockade. He was able to push back some, but two families and one motorbike rider were killed. They are taking care of the bodies now, making sure to follow proper protocol.”

  Yeah, not that the proper protocol was going to do anything to save those men. The sergeant didn’t know it yet, but the moment he had accepted his orders and had gotten his troops into that town to set up the perimeter, he had written his own death sentence. If this all went south, there was no way anyone from that close to the town would ever be able to get out of there…unless the CDC was able to get in there and either identify that it was just a false alarm, or was able to work out some kind of cure.

  And if this all turned out to be a false alarm, there was no saving any of their careers. Damn, this protocol moved way too fast. Who approved such a thing? There were only ways to make this worse, and he couldn’t see anyway for this to turn out favorable for anyone.

  “Thank you, lieutenant.”

  “There’s more, sir.”

  “Yes?”

  “We have gotten the latest satellite feed.” The young man stepped deeper into the room, the general noticing the little sidestep the man did to avoid getting to close to the major. Then he grabbed the images from inside the folder and put them on the general’s desk. “From what we can make out, multiple riots have broken out in town. That falls in line with some of the earlier reports of violence.” The man pointed to what looked like a parking lot around a strip of buildings. There was a large group of people surrounding one man.

  “We also have these.” The man set down another image, this one also in a parking lot. The picture showed
a large group of people surrounding a car. It was a good image, better than the first. There was the group around the car, but then a smaller group off to the side. The car door was open, and there seemed to be a body being dragged from it, what was probably splatters of blood all over the ground, and a small group around where the body was probably lying.

  “There are other images in the folder. Various streets that groups of people are walking down. It’s not clear as to what they are doing, but looking at the evidence, it seems like these groups are looking for more people to attack.”

  The general’s eyes were wide as he looked up to glare at the major sitting across from him. “It has to be biological. Some kind of nerve gas.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Get on the horn. Find out the ETA on the CDC. We need them in there. We need to know what this is, and what can be done about it. Tell them to get their asses moving!”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Tina!” Jason called out before he was even past the first door and into the back hallway of the bar. “Tina!” The door slammed behind him, shaking in its frame. The heavy spring attached to it sounded louder than usual, making his voice seem to be cut off by the sound. He rushed through the little hall and stepped out into the cool darkness of the bar.

  “Tina!” He looked at the group that huddled around each other at the other end of the bar. They were craning their necks to look out the window, as though somehow changing that slight angle of their body would allow them to see a little better. He studied the group, looking for his aunt. He was hoping to find her, grab her, and get her… Get her where?

  He and Denise had planned on getting Tina, then they would rush out of town. He had promised the woman that. It was the only way he had coaxed her into staying with him as he came back for his aunt. Now they were there and they would all get out of town.

  Why, though? Now that he was in the bar, a place where he felt safe, a place that he had promised to watch after, why would he run? This was where he had grown up. Long before his mom had worked out a way to buy the bar and had only been a bartender there, this had been where she raised him. This was where his mother brought him, her friends as his daycare, as she worked behind that long stretch of wood. It was where he had learned to throw darts and play pool. Video games had been the poker and the slot machines, and he had lost many quarters learning to play them. As much as he always said he wanted to get away from the place, to live a life outside these walls, this was much more a home than the house on the other side of town. He had known these walls much longer.

 

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