Yorgi removed his mask, grabbing some air. Kenzie joined him, flouting the rules, and then Smyth followed suit, giving Hayden a blank stare when she spread her arms helplessly.
“Rebels,” Dahl said, still walking.
“I’d say rogues,” Kenzie said. “Sounds better.”
She moved up beside him.
“If I weren’t so well disciplined I’d bloody join you.”
“Don’t worry. We can work on that.”
Drake nudged her in the back. “You know he went to a private school, don’t you, Kenz? You’ll never break him.”
“Mossad have their ways.”
Dahl glanced back over his shoulder. “Will you two shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.”
“See what I mean?” Drake said.
“Concentrate on what?” Alicia asked. “Numbers one to four?”
“Here we are,” Dahl said. “Lab 7.”
“You count up all that way yourself, Torsty? Wait, I think I have a sticker somewhere.”
Hayden pushed her way to the front. “Formation, people. Watch the back. Watch the elevators, both banks. I need Lauren on the comms, talking me to the bio-weapon, and I need the lab secure. Think you can do that?”
Without pause, they parted and took up their positions. Drake and Hayden were left to enter the lab on their own. First, they entered an outer office, littered with paraphernalia, every available surface cluttered with all manner of instruments. Drake had no idea what they were but they looked vital, and expensive.
Beyond a glass wall lay an inner, secure room.
“Lauren,” he said. “Lab 7 consists of two rooms. Outer and inner. The inner is probably a control room for chemicals, capable of being sealed off and vented.”
Nothing. The comms were dead.
Drake stared at Hayden. “What the—”
“Sorry, Matt. Hayden. Labs are always frequency shielded so signals can’t get in and out. Lab 7 is on a different level to the rest of the facility and it took us a moment to turn the extra shielding off.”
“No worries,” Hayden said. “Where next?”
“Inner room. There should be a glass cabinet. Do you see it?”
Drake went over to the large glass wall. “Yep. Right in the far corner.”
“The bio-weapon obviously doesn’t look like a weapon. It should be stored in a canister about the size of a coffee flask. It can be identified by the code PD777. Got that?”
“Got it.” He went over to the door’s key code panel and typed in the override code. “Nothing.” He sighed. “Could this room have a different code?”
“Let me find out. Problem is, all the bosses, techs and lab people are in there with you, sleeping.”
“Not to mention the Russians, Swedes and Israelis. Be quick.”
Drake listened as Hayden checked with the team. All was quiet, eerily so. Then Smyth growled through his coms.
“Movement on the eastern staircase. Here they come!”
“I got movement on the western one,” Mai reported. “Hurry.”
“Hold those elevators,” Hayden said. “We’re gonna need them real soon.”
Drake considered shooting the glass. No doubt it would be bulletproof and potentially dangerous. There were glass cabinets in the outer room too, stocked with tubes and canisters that might contain any number of poisons.
Lauren shouted out a new code. Drake punched it in. The door swung open. He ran for the back of the room, slipped open the cabinet and started searching for the canister. Hayden stayed behind. Watching their backs, each team member keeping line of sight with the next.
Drake sifted through canister after canister. Each one bore an imprint in black, bold letters and numbers, and they weren’t organized. A minute passed. Smyth opened fire up his staircase and Mai did the same a few seconds later. They were under attack, praying nobody was idiotic enough to send a grenade into the fray.
“Got it!”
He lifted the canister, took half a second to remember it contained a bio-weapon that could destroy at the very least—America, and tucked it under one arm. “Time to go.”
As one, coordinated, they began the retreat. Mai and Smyth covered the stairs until Drake and Hayden reached the corridor and then Yorgi and Dahl covered them. Mai and Smyth retreated fast as Alicia pressed the elevators’ button.
Doors whooshed instantly open.
“Faster!” Mai shouted, appearing fast around a corner. “They’re seconds behind me.”
She fired back, pinning them down.
Smyth came the other way, shielded now by Dahl, both men backpedalling for the doors.
And then the alarms began to sound, a huge claxon-like booming that filled the ears and sent the senses into overdrive.
“What the fuck is that?” Drake shouted.
“No. Oh no!” Lauren screamed back. “Get out of there. Get out of there now! They just released something into the system.” She paused. “Oh my God ... it’s sarin.”
It was already flooding through the roof vents of the corridor and the side vents of the elevator.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Drake quelled the initial surge of fear at the mention of the name sarin. He knew it was deadly. Knew it was considered a weapon of mass destruction. He knew Smyth, Yorgi and Kenzie had taken their masks off.
And he saw how what was said to be a colorless, odorless liquid seeped through the vents.
“I never doubted they stored sarin here.” Hayden jumped at Yorgi. “But this ...” She grappled with his mask.
Drake knew almost anything could be manipulated, engineered or generally re-imagined. The only limit was the imagination. A liquid nerve agent was infinitely pliable. Now he went hard for Kenzie, but saw Alicia and Mai were already there. They had the Israeli’s mask on, but her eyes were already closed, her body slumping.
Sarin could kill in one to ten minutes depending on the dose.
“No,” Drake said. “No, no, no.”
Smyth slid down the side of the lift, already unconscious before Dahl managed to jam his mask fully over his face.
The elevator shot up, back to the ground floor.
“What do we do?” Hayden shouted over the comms. “How long do they have?”
“Who?” Lauren reacted naturally. “Who’s hurt?”
“Just get a goddamn lab rat or a doctor and tell us what to do!”
Kinimaka hefted Smyth over one shoulder as the doors swept open. Drake saw him about to rush out, then threw himself out first, knowing the Hawaiian had probably forgotten about the waiting Swedes, Russians and Israelis. Immediately he could see what looked like a faint steam leaking through all the high-level vents. His heart dropped. “It’s been released up here too.”
“The whole facility,” Lauren said. “I have a lab technician right here.”
“Don’t need him,” Kinimaka breathed. “We need atropine. Where’s the fucking atropine?”
A new voice came on the line. “How many people infected? And to what level?”
Drake swept the area, ran for cover, weapon aimed. Alicia backed him up. Movement ahead made them pause.
“Fuck that!” Hayden cried. “We have three of our own and dozens of people already unconscious in the lab. You have to get in here with an antidote, and you have to do it now!”
“Sarin is deadly,” the man said. “But it can take an hour to kill. We’re on our way, believe me. We were prepared for this. Tell me, are the victims having difficulty breathing?”
Drake looked back. Hayden took a moment to check. “Yeah,” she said with a catch in her throat. “Yeah, they are.”
Drake saw Dahl now move over to Kenzie, gently remove her from Alicia and cradle her in his arms. He stared straight at Kinimaka. Nobody else. Nowhere else. The world was gone and only one thing remained in the Swede’s conscience.
“Mano. What do we do?”
The big Hawaiian sniffed. “Atropine, and an auto-injector.”
The voice responded immediately. “
Med bays are situated on every floor. Several antidotes are included in each bay and atropine is one of them. You’ll find auto-injectors there too. Just stab it into a thigh muscle.”
“I know what to do!”
Drake waited for the lab tech to tell Kinimaka where to go then led the way. No sneaking, no dodging behind tables; this time they went heads up and balls out, holding their fallen friends, daring any rogue nation to be stupid enough to take them on. The floor was still littered with bodies, only now those sleeping forms were curled up, wracked with pain, some already shuddering.
The front doors were destroyed. Men wearing masks and suits rushed in.
Drake kicked a chair aside and then spied the med bay in one corner of the room. He sprinted. A Russian body lay to the right, clad in Kevlar, the one they’d shot. Two more lay next to it; convulsing and dying. The sarin hit them hard too. The release of the chemical had effectively stopped the battle, and SPEAR still held the bio-weapon.
Hayden forged ahead, not holding a weapon, and wrenched the med bay door open. Inside, a dozen ampoules faced them, all full of glistening liquids. They were clearly marked, and Kinimaka bellowed at the atropine; Mai pulled out an auto-injector and filled it. Kinimaka jammed the needle into Smyth’s face just a few seconds before Dahl did the same to Kenzie. Alicia and Mai handled Yorgi and then the team sat back on their haunches, exhausted, numb, scared that the hope that filled their hearts now felt so desperate.
Minutes passed. Drake turned to Kinimaka. “What happens now?”
“Well, atropine blocks the effects of sarin. They should come around.”
“Watch for side effects,” the lab tech said. “Hallucinations, mostly. But dizziness, nausea, blurred vision ...”
“Don’t worry,” Alicia said. “All of that’s nothing worse than a pub lunch for Team SPEAR.”
“Dry mouth. Fast heart rate ...”
“Yup.”
Still more minutes passed and Drake stared helplessly at Yorgi’s face, wishing a hundred times a second that some life would flood back into it. Hayden asked the tech if they could flood the sarin out of the system and allow everyone to remove their masks but the situation was barely under control. Whoever released the sarin still might have other plans.
“We’re in the system too now,” Lauren assured them. “The FBI brought some high-level computer geeks down who’ve been poking around for a while.”
“Any news on the other Special Ops teams?” Hayden asked.
“We think so. Just getting confirmation. It’s all a bit of a muddle in there.”
Drake tapped Yorgi’s cheek, to the right of his mask. “Tell me about it.”
The Russian moved slightly, raising his arms. His eyes fluttered open and he stared unseeing, straight at Drake. He coughed, tried to remove his mask, but Drake kept it in place. Atropine or no atropine, it was best to leave nothing to chance. Smyth struggled too and then Kenzie; Dahl breathed a long, audible sigh of relief. The team took the chance to share a brief, weak smile.
“Let’s get them out into the air,” Hayden said. “We’re done here today.”
Lauren came back on the comms. “They’re okay? All of them?” She still had no idea who had been infected.
“So far so good, love,” Drake said. “Could do with a doc to check ’em over though.”
“We have a dozen out here.”
“Coming to you now,” Hayden said.
The team reformed and helped each other out of the front doors. Hayden clutched the bio-weapon to her chest, unsure even now who she could trust. She posed the question to Lauren across the comms.
“It needs taking to a safe facility in Dallas,” Lauren said. “I have the details here. They’re waiting for you.”
Hayden stared over at Drake, eyes weary behind the mask.
It never ends.
Drake knew exactly what she was thinking. By the time they reached the ambulance set-up, removed their masks and found Lauren though, they were already starting to feel a little refreshed. Drake found pleasure in being brought a hot coffee and Alicia bleated for a bottle of water. Mai took it away from her, drank, then offered her a sip from the used bottle.
Kenzie reached up, grabbed it away from Mai, and sighed. “Why do I see four of you?”
Alicia reclaimed the water. “Still alive then? Hey, does this count as a three-way?”
Drake had been watching. “Y’know something? I’ll know when it’s time to quit this job when you two stop trying to wind each other up. That’s when I’ll retire.”
Lauren left Smyth’s side for a moment as a barrage of information came across her central comms system. This would include messages from the obnoxious guy in DC, the local Dallas operation and, to a lesser extent, the Secretary of Defense.
She waved for the group to listen up before remembering she could use the comms. “Hey, ah, well, hi. I’m gonna give you the address in Dallas and you should get on your way. The longer that bio-weapon stays loose the greater the danger. Now, we have a little bit of clarification. It seems the initial sleeping agent which was introduced to affect almost everyone working in the lab was triggered by a redundant code as soon as you opened Geronimo’s coffin. It seems they think the cult may now not still exist, but at least one person might still be working for them. The sarin was also triggered by the same code and no doubt by the same person. An insider? Maybe. But don’t forget we had to take down the lab’s shields so a signal could have gotten in.”
“You need to check for people leaving before the sleeping agent did its work,” Hayden said.
“On it. But there’s more. Bodies have been counted.” She took a breath. “Our lab people and innocent civilian have fared well. They all seem to be responding to the atropine. It’s assumed, since they were asleep on the floor, that they received only weak doses, and help came quick. Now, the IDs are hard, but since we knew the positions of the Russians and Swedes we have to assume we’re correct. Three Russians dead, two missing. Two Swedes dead, one missing. And three Israelis dead, two missing.”
“They didn’t get atropine?” Dahl asked worriedly.
“Sure they did, but after the civilians. And it did hit them more aggressively.”
By now, Smyth, Yorgi and Kenzie were on their feet, looking refreshed and hungry for action. Drake wondered if it might be one of the aforementioned side effects.
“Yorgi,” he said. “Look at Alicia. What do you see?”
The Russian smirked. “Ice cream and hot chilies?”
Drake grinned. “He’s fine.”
Alicia frowned hard. “What the hell does that mean. Yogi? Yogi? C’mon, mate. You know I love you, but if you don’t spill I’m gonna have to kill you.”
Drake pulled her away toward the waiting cars. “Well done, love, you just proved his point.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Speed was their choice, their savior, their God, and their best way to stay alive right now.
They had no illusions about what might await them on the way into Dallas. It didn’t matter how many cops assisted; how many FBI SUVs and SWAT vans lined the route, the people they were up against were among the best in the world and they would find a way.
Depending on who they were really working for.
Drake saw the vehicles they’d been provided with for the short run through Dallas—two government issue, four-wheel drives—and pulled up short.
“That really ain’t gonna work.”
Remembering the car park and its contents, he nodded to a pair of parking spots near the exit.
“They will.”
Lauren voiced her agreement. “I’ll get the FBI to sort it out.”
“Quickly.” Drake was already headed that way. “Everyone? Load the fuck up. We’re about to need every bullet we’ve got.”
With Hayden in their midst they dashed toward the cars—a stealth-black Dodge Challenger and a baby blue Mustang with two white stripes down the bonnet. Dahl honed in on the Mustang, which was fine because Dr
ake wanted the Challenger. Police cars screamed away, preparing to clear a route through the center of Dallas. A chopper hovered nearby, warned away because of the likely probability that Special Forces teams could shoot it down. Both cars were new enough to be hacked—the FBI didn’t need the keys.
Drake climbed in, along with Yorgi—who grabbed the passenger seat—Hayden, Alicia and Mai. He fired the engine up, grinning happily.
“Now that,” he said, “is a sound I’d get out of bed before six a.m. on a morning for.”
Alicia ignored it. She was used to his childishness, and had let everyone know it.
Drake revved the engine. Dahl fired up the Mustang alongside and the two men grinned through two sets of windows, together at last.
Hayden tapped the canister against the back of his seat. “Bio-weapon.”
“Umm, yeah. Okay.”
He floored it, spinning the wheel and the car around a tight space in the car park and racing for the exit. The vehicle bounced over uneven asphalt, front end lifting and rear end scraping. Sparks flew.
Behind Drake, Dahl saw the sparks flashing across his windshield, covering it in fire for over a second. Clearly, he wasn’t happy.
“ ’Kinell, Drake. Were you trying to hit that?”
“Just drive,” Hayden came back. “The secure building’s only nine minutes away.”
“Yeah, on a race track maybe,” Smyth said. “But this is Dallas, and these two ain’t race car drivers.”
“You wanna shot, Lancelot?” Drake breathed. “Climb over that Swede and take it.”
“Whatever.”
“Are you angry?” Alicia joined in. “Surely not, Lancelot.”
“Can we—” Hayden tried again.
Lauren’s voice overrode hers. “Hostiles are inbound,” she said, then: “Don’t get shot, Lancelot.”
Drake held a great deal of oversteer by finessing the wheel and using both lanes of the road. A cop car stood ahead, blocking other drivers from crossing their path. The Challengers shot past a junction, high-rises now surrounding them. The Mustang blurred past half a second later, almost nosing the Dodge’s rear fender. Drake glanced up into the rearview and all he could see was Dahl’s gritted teeth.
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