The Zombie Terror War Series (Vol. 6): Where The Vultures Gather

by Spell, David

  “Do you think this cartel is going to try again? Are we going to be safe on the base or whenever we move back into our apartment in DC?”

  McCain shrugged. “I don’t know. After I give this interview, I’ll check back with the admiral and see if the CIA has been able to turn up any more info.”

  Earlier, after speaking with Eddie and Andy, Chuck had called his boss at the CIA, retired Admiral Jonathan Williams, the Director of Operations for the Agency. The admiral had been unavailable so McCain had spoken with Williams’ assistant, Shaun Taylor. Shaun had listened quietly, asking an occasional question as Chuck related the events of the morning.

  “Get back to Washington as quick as you can, Chuck. I’ll get to work on this right away. The admiral will probably want to meet with you tomorrow. Do you or any of the other guys need anything in the way of security? We can pull in some assets from Clark’s group to look after you guys.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Chuck answered. “Kevin knows Andy, Scotty, and Eric. He can coordinate with them about what they need at Belvoir.”

  Colonel Kevin Clark was the other Assistant Director of Operations for the CIA. His primary role was in international para-military operations but when the bad guys start targeting agents’ families, everyone jumps in and does whatever needs to be done. He was the perfect one to provide additional security.

  Clark had risen to the rank of major as a United States Army Airborne Ranger. He and Scotty Smith had served together for a time in Iraq. When Kevin finally decided to retire, he had been offered a commission as a lieutenant colonel in the Georgia National Guard. He had served happily in that capacity for two years until the zombie virus had been released.

  With the communications and power grid down, Clark did what any good Ranger officer would do: he kept fighting. He took the tattered remains of several guard units, organizing and training them as an effective guerrilla force, fighting and killing both zombies, as well as roving gangs of violent criminals in the Metro-Atlanta area.

  Kevin eventually linked up with Chuck, forming part of the force that eliminated the Tijuana Cartel presence in Atlanta. Admiral Williams had been so impressed with Clark that he was able to secure him a promotion to full colonel and had offered him the job with the CIA. Clark and McCain did not see a lot of each other, their work taking them in different directions for the agency, but they shared a genuine respect.

  “So what’s the story on those two detectives?” Beth asked, the rural Georgia landscape rushing past. “I’m sensing some bad blood there or something.”

  “Or something. When I was a corporal, I was Eve’s field training officer. I was working third shift at the time. The second night out, she let me know that if I wanted to pull behind a building, we could have some fun. I was recently divorced, but you can’t do that on duty. Plus, I was never big on dating people that I worked with.

  “And, I didn’t trust her. We’d just had some training on sexual harassment and unwanted conduct. She wasn’t bad-looking but I just had this feeling that if I accepted her offer, I’d be selling my soul to the devil. I was a corporal, she was a patrol officer. If I had sex with her, she could turn that around on me and say that I used my position to seduce her.”

  “At least she has good taste,” Elizabeth smiled.

  “Don’t give her too much credit yet. Anyway, I declined her offer and met with the sergeant later in the shift and told her they needed to give her to another FTO. When I explained why, he agreed with me and they assigned her to a female training officer. I guess not too many men had refused her offers of sex because she’s hated me ever since. Of course, it didn’t help that I caught her screwing a married cop one night a few years later.”

  “You caught them? I bet they were so embarrassed!”

  Chuck laughed. “For sure. They had met up after work. A neighbor or somebody called in suspicious activity at an elementary school. Josh was my backup and we parked in front and walked around to the rear. We didn’t know what we had. It could’ve been a drug deal going down for all we knew.

  “We got to the back of the school and saw two cars. We gave their tags to dispatch and then snuck right up on them and flipped on our flashlights. Eve and, at that time, Corporal, Jerry Henson were going at it. The windows were kind of fogged up so we didn’t recognize them at first.

  “I was on one side and Josh was on the other and we snatched open the back doors of what turned out to be Jerry’s minivan. There were clothes scattered everywhere and they were both butt-naked. I started to yell at them about trespassing and having sex behind a school, but at the same moment me and Josh recognized them.

  “Before I could even open my mouth, Josh said, ‘Well, hey, Jerry. Hey, Eve. Y’all have a nice night.’ We closed the doors and started laughing. We howled all the way back to our police cars. Every time we saw each other for the next few days, we busted out laughing.

  “It wasn’t long before the story had gotten all over the department. That’s another reason Saunders hates Matthews and me. She thinks we went out and told everybody. The truth was, we didn’t say anything. It was a dispatcher friend of hers who had sent us to the call. When we gave her the license plates on the cars, the dispatcher ran the tags and got their names. She put two and two together and it spread like wildfire.

  “Of course, everyone suspected that they had a thing going. I mean Eve slept her way from one easy assignment to another. She never could cut it working the road so she did anybody she could to get easy office jobs. Anyway, it wasn’t long before Jerry’s wife got wind of his indiscretions and divorced him. They had two small kids at the time and she took him to the cleaners. It was no surprise that when Henson made sergeant in detectives he found a spot for Saunders.”

  Beth shook her head in disbelief. “I thought we had a lot of drama on that technical school campus. Do you think they’ll try and use this investigation to get back at you? She acts like she still has a chip on her shoulder.”

  Chuck nodded. “She’s got a whole tree on her shoulder. Yeah, Eve would love nothing better than stick it to me if she could. I don’t trust her at all. Jerry, on the other hand, is a pretty good detective and he’ll make sure everything gets handled correctly. I think they were both a little shook when they saw my DHS credentials. They understand that they aren’t just dealing with a retired lieutenant from their department.”

  McCain turned into police headquarters and Matthews parked next to him. Grace got out of Josh’s truck, a huge grin on her face.

  Chuck shook his head and looked at Josh. “You told her, didn’t you?”

  “It’s a funny story,” Matthews shrugged, laughing and leading them into the building.

  Investigator Saunders was waiting inside the lobby. She nodded towards the two women and said, “The civilians will need to wait out here.”

  “Corporal Saunders,” Sergeant Matthews answered, “I’ll be responsible for allowing Lieutenant McCain’s wife and friend in the building.”

  Elizabeth could see the fury behind the detective’s eyes but the corporal wisely kept her tongue in check as Mathews pulled rank on her. Josh led them down several hallways to the CID wing of the building. A number of officers greeted both him and Chuck as they moved through the building. No one, however, even acknowledged Eve.

  “Hey, Chuck. You coming out of retirement? We could sure use you.”

  “What’s going on, Josh? When you guys having tryouts for the SWAT Team?”

  “Hi, LT. Are you OK?” a young officer asked. “I was out searching for that van. No luck yet.”

  McCain stopped and shook his hand. “I’m alright, Tim. I wished I’d have had you with me when those guys broke in. I needed some extra firepower,” he said, tapping the bandage on his forehead.

  Tim smiled broadly. “Thanks, LT. We miss you around here.”

  When they arrived in CID, Josh made sure the two women were comfortable in a small reception area. Sergeant Henson met Chuck and led him into an interview room. The
detective pointed to where he wanted McCain to sit so the interview could be video recorded.

  Saunders entered the room and stood against the wall, her arms crossed. Henson fidgeted with some papers on the table.

  “Your wife seems awfully young,” Eve commented.

  Chuck leaned back in his chair, not taking the bait.

  “You men go through your mid-life crisis and start looking for those young girls.”

  McCain laughed at the detective. “Eve, you’re the last person on the planet to be offering relationship advice. How many mid-life crises have you been involved in?"

  Saunders face flushed and her eyes flashed. She stepped towards Chuck, her mouth open, about to reply.

  “Eve, that’s enough,” Jerry ordered. “We have an interview to do and I expect you to conduct yourself in a professional manner.”

  The woman’s mouth hung open, shock on her face at being dressed down in front of the retired lieutenant.

  “We need to wrap this up,” he continued, softening his tone. “I just got off of the phone with someone at Homeland. They very courteously told me that Agent McCain was needed back in Washington ASAP.”

  The admiral’s influence does go deep, Chuck thought.

  “So, with that in mind,” Henson said, “let’s get started. Eve, would you hit record on the camera?”

  An hour and fifteen minutes later, the interview was winding down. Chuck had described the events of earlier in the day, stressing the fact that the gunmen had smashed their way into his home, leaving him no option but to use deadly force to defend himself. It was no act; McCain had been in fear for his life. The bloody bandage on his head testified how close he had come to being killed.

  Saunders had grilled him about shooting at the men who were fleeing across the yard. The suspect’s vehicle still had not been located, but Chuck had freely told the detectives of his shooting at the fleeing felons, confident that he had hit them with his shots.

  “So, you admit you tried to kill the suspects who were running away,” the corporal pressed, “even though they no longer posed a threat to you?”

  “Eve, you know the law as well as I do,” McCain answered patiently. “One of them shot at me as they were trying to get away and they had already demonstrated their murderous intentions. Until we find them, they pose a significant threat to the public.”

  Henson cleared his throat. “Chuck, you seem pretty sure that a Mexican cartel is behind this attack. What leads you to that conclusion?”

  McCain hesitated. “Can we turn the video off for a minute?”

  The sergeant nodded at the corporal and she turned off the camera.

  “Did either of you hear about the Tijuana Cartel invading Buckhead about eight or nine months ago?” Chuck queried.

  Henson and Saunders both looked confused. “What do you mean ‘invaded?’” Eve asked.

  Chuck gave them a generic version of the event and an airbrushed account of how the situation was dealt with. The detectives looked stunned.

  The sergeant shook his head. “How could that happen? Two hundred cartel members capturing six blocks of an American city?”

  “Remember, that was at the height of the zombie virus crisis,” McCain answered. “All the local police departments including APD weren’t really functioning. The National Guard had pulled out of the city by that time. After the communications grid broke down, I sent all the CDC agents home and told them to get their families somewhere safe.

  “The Tijuana Cartel took advantage of the vacuum and moved right in. Eventually, an operation was launched. When we went in, we rescued over forty women who had been captured and were being used as sex slaves. These are really bad people. Most of the women had husbands or boyfriends who were executed right in front of them by the cartel. They made the women watch as one of the gangsters put a bullet in his head.

  “I don’t have any idea how they tracked me down, but they also went after two of my men. Two of my agents were out on a mission in inner city DC. One of their homes was torched. The other’s wife and son were shot and are in critical condition.”

  Saunders might not have liked McCain but she was appalled at the brutality of this gang. Forty women held as sex slaves? Breaking into McCain’s home and attempting to kill him? Shooting a federal agent’s family? Burning down another’s home? Who were these people?

  “When you check the bodies in my living room, you’ll see that they have ‘Tijuana’ tattooed inside their right arms. That tattoo isn’t for everyone in the cartel. Only those with confirmed murders are allowed to wear it.”

  The sergeant motioned for the corporal to turn the video back on. The senior detective quickly wrapped up the interview with McCain, only mentioning the possibility that a Mexican cartel was behind the attack. For the moment, this information would be kept under wraps. There was a knock on the interview room door. Eve turned off the camera as Jerry spoke with a uniformed police officer for a few minutes before turning back to Chuck.

  “They found that van. It pulled into a business park near the airport off Highway 316 just a few miles from your house. It didn’t get that far, after all, but drove around behind the building so they couldn’t be seen from the road. Two more dead guys and a seriously wounded one inside. The ambulance is transporting him to the hospital.

  “Okay, Chuck, we’re done here,” Henson said. “If we have any more questions, I’ll give you a call. You know the routine. This will get forwarded to the DA’s office for review. Also, please stop by the range on the way out and let them get the ballistics on your guns. Officer Peters will escort you to keep the chain of custody intact.”

  As McCain left the room, he heard Henson telling Saunders to go over to where the van had been recovered and oversee the investigation there. The sergeant would be heading to the hospital in an attempt to interview the wounded man. The officer Chuck had spoken to earlier in the hallway, Tim Peters, was waiting with Josh, Beth, Grace, and an African-American man wearing black tactical clothing.

  Jimmy Jones, face burst into a smile when he saw McCain. “What’s up, Chuck? Man, what happened to that hard head of yours? I bet that bullet just bounced off, huh?”

  McCain chuckled and shook his friend’s hand, embracing him in a man-hug. Jimmy always had a way of making him smile.

  “Seriously, you OK?” the CDC agent asked.

  “I’m good, buddy. An AK round blew a chunk of wood into my head. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

  Jimmy nodded. “It sounds like you took care of business. When I was a young Marine second lieutenant, my grizzled sergeant first class asked me if I’d been in any shootouts. Man, I was still wet behind the ears and hadn’t even been deployed yet. So this big SFC said, ’Sir, there are two things you need to do after you get into a firefight. The first is to make sure the SOBs are dead. The second is to pour yourself a healthy dose of Jack.’”

  “I sure wouldn’t turn a drink down,” Chuck grinned, “but Beth and I are going to be heading back to DC just as quick as I let the range officer do a ballistics test on my guns. Maybe I can get a sip on the plane.”

  Jones had attended the University of Alabama on a track and field scholarship, earning a Criminal Justice degree. After college, Jimmy had entered the Marine Corps as an officer. Jimmy had done two combat tours to Iraq, one as a lieutenant, the second as a captain. He had loved the Marines, but when his mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he had resigned his commission to be by her side during her last year. After she succumbed to the disease, Jimmy had joined the Alabama State Patrol, consistently leading the troopers in big drug arrests and in locating fugitives as they drove through the state.

  When Jimmy had decided to up his game and join the DEA, he had come across Rebecca Johnson’s radar and recruited into the new CDC Enforcement Unit. After serving as Eddie Marshall’s assistant team leader, Jones was eventually given his own team. He didn’t have the muscle of Chuck, Scotty, or Eddie, but Jimmy was the fastest human being that McCain had e
ver seen and was cool under fire. He had shown on more than one occasion that he was very good at leading men in combat.

  Officer Peters nodded at McCain. “LT, I’ll walk you over to the range if you’re ready?”

  “Sounds good, Tim.”

  Jimmy spoke up again, looking at Chuck. “Officer Peters here told us a story about you beating up some poor drunk guy.”

  McCain glanced at Tim, whose face had turned bright red.

  “Sorry, LT. Mrs. McCain asked if I had any funny stories about you. I told them about when I was a rookie and I rolled up on a drunk guy stumbling down the middle of the road. I was trying to talk to him and figure out where he lived so I could take him home.

  “You were my sergeant at the time and you pulled up and listened for about ten seconds. When that drunk told me to do something physically impossible, you grabbed him and slammed him down on my car, handcuffed him, searched him, and tossed him in my backseat. His face left a big dent on my hood. I’ll never forget what you told me. ’Don’t try to reason with a drunk. Usually it’s better to just lock them up and be done with it.’”

  “Words to live by,” Jimmy commented, getting a laugh from everyone.

  “Come on, Tim. Let’s get over to the range,” Chuck smiled.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Turkish Delight

  Interstate 80, Shelby, Iowa, Monday, 0325 hours

  Omer Deniz’s bladder told him that they needed to stop. A sign indicated a rest area just two miles away on the deserted stretch of interstate. It would be good to stretch his legs, the fugitive thought.

  “Pull over at that rest area,” Omer told his driver, Mohammad Qasem. “I need to piss.”

  Mohammed nodded. “Good idea. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open and I need a smoke.”

  Omer glanced at the side mirror on his door, noting that the other team was staying several car lengths behind, in the inside lane. The two vehicles had been swapping the lead periodically on their cross-country trek. Two minutes later, Qasem activated his right turn signal, the second car easing back over behind them to make the pit stop, as well.