by J. W. Vohs
That truth bothered Chien a great deal as he considered the costs associated with hiring Red Eagle personnel in such numbers. Usually they worked for the government, one of the few institutions that had both the need and the money to employ the security company. Apparently there were people on Mount Desert who were very rich indeed, and he feared that they had apparently bought his soul along with his Ranger skills. As he continued to consider the possible ways he could try to make right what he had done wrong earlier in the day, a voice called out his name above the din of the powerful shower-head.
“Yeah, what do you need?” he shouted back.
“The boss just called, and he wants you to bring your best squad to the helipad in twenty minutes; we gotta VIP coming in and he doesn’t want to take any chances on the security situation after what happened at the bridge.”
Chien angrily shut the water off before loudly demanding, “Does he know what my men went through today?”
“Pretty sure he does, sir. But you’re the best he’s got, and you know it as well as he does. I’m sorry colonel; I did volunteer to organize a detail myself, but he wasn’t havin’ none of that.”
Chien wiped his face and called out, “Tell Maxwell to prepare his squad. I’ll lead them over myself. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“Hey, sir, everyone’s pretty damned shook-up about what happened at the bridge today; no apology necessary.”
* * *
As ordered, twenty minutes later Chien had one of his squads at the helipad. They were told to set up a perimeter forty meters out in every direction, which was accomplished just as the sound of the approaching chopper became audible to everyone in the group. When the craft touched down a few minutes later, Chien looked toward the open door in time to see an Army officer leap to the ground and follow a small delegation of waiting civilians into a nearby building. As soon as the VIP was out of sight, the helicopter shut down its engines, and a few minutes later the pilots exited the cockpit and entered the building their passenger had previously been led into. When word came over the radio that the security detail was dismissed, Chien ordered Maxwell to lead the squad back to the barracks while he went in search of the chopper’s crew chief.
The colonel found the first sergeant still inside the bay, sliding a few duffels toward the door. Chien took his helmet off and addressed the crew chief, “Hey there, Sarge, I’m Tom Lee with Red Eagle. Left Seal team Six last year and thought I’d ask someone still in the game what’s going on out there.”
The crew chief reached back for another duffel as he explained, “Well, the pilots don’t know squat, but the VIP is some major from USAMRIID. Since their commanding officer is with the president, I assume that a major is the best they can scrounge up right now.”
“Huh,” Chien exclaimed, “wonder why they’re out here at all?”
The sergeant grunted with exertion as he lowered the bags to the ground before replying, “Before President Brocktin called General Barnes to Washington, we flew him out here once to meet with these people.”
Alarm bells started ringing in Chien’s mind, but he played it cool by saying, “Must be nice to have connections when a pandemic is threatening the world.”
“Yeah,” the crew chief agreed, “guess that us peons will have to take our chances while the rich folks get first dibs on the vaccine.”
Chien didn’t have to fake the shock that crept into his voice as he asked, “Have you heard that this meeting is about a vaccine?”
“Not specifically, but I figure that the VIPs around the country want to keep a close eye on developments in that direction. I can’t guess any other reason why we’d be flying a USAMRIID major all the way out here when there’s a war going on in the rest of the country. Plus, the major has two large suitcases with him that he hasn’t let out of his sight for one second; you probably saw him carrying them when he left the bird. My guess is that he’s got medical stuff in there.”
Chien silently considered that sobering thought before replying, “Well, I just gotta worry about this island, sarge. If that USAMRIID guy does have a vaccine, I hope it works and the government can get it into mass production. You just take care of yourself out there.”
The First Sergeant hefted the duffels and grunted his thanks before heading off to the building where the meeting was presumably taking place. Chien began slowly walking back to the barracks, still trying to figure out what he was going to do with himself while attempting to digest the information he’d just picked up from the crew chief. There was obviously a very wealthy, powerful group or individual on Mount Desert Island that possessed enough influence with the government and the military to have access to the latest USAMRIID research related to the outbreak of the zombie virus. He had no idea what they were up to; but he was rethinking his previous belief that the rich folks were here to merely wait out the pandemic in safety. Now he suspected that the reason Red Eagle was on the island was more sinister than to simply meet the security concerns of a bunch of frightened fat cats. He had lost three men under his command today while helping to slaughter American citizens, all because someone with money could afford to pay him to do so. If that wasn’t bad enough, apparently everything he’d done today was related to some sort of conspiracy concerning the virus. If he’d had any doubts before, they’d vanished during his conversation with the First Sergeant; he was done here.
One trait common to most elite soldiers was their ability to quickly recover from emotional and physical trauma, and Colonel Longstreet was no exception. In spite of the turmoil churning in his mind and heart, as well as the uncertainty of what his next course of action would be, Chien returned to the barracks and quickly fell into a deep, healing slumber that he badly needed. When morning arrived, he went to breakfast with some of his men and then sought out the commander of the Red Eagle contingent on the island. The man everyone referred to as “The Boss” was actually named Colten DeHaven, a sixty-something, fit, and frightening-looking mercenary who’d started his career as an eighteen-year-old grunt in Vietnam in 1971. He was a private, quiet sort, but Chien had no reason to doubt the stories he’d heard from other employees about Colten’s adventures in conflicts around the world since deciding he didn’t want to come home after his stint in Southeast Asia.
This morning Colten DeHaven looked even more dour than usual, his haunted eyes appearing dull and lifeless as he stared into his coffee cup for long periods of time while listening to Chien’s report on the fight at the bridge. Finally he held up a hand for silence before proclaiming, “Colonel Longstreet, your version of what happened at the roadblock is close enough to the others I’ve heard that you don’t need to go on.”
Chien just sat quietly waiting as DeHaven frowned into his coffee cup. Finally, he set the mug on his desk and stared at the colonel for at least a full minute before speaking. “I need to talk to someone, Longstreet, and you’re one of the few people on this island I respect. I’m not necessarily saying I trust you, but I do respect your record and reputation. All I can do is ask you, on your honor, to remain silent about what I am about to share with you.”
His eyes bored into Chien’s with an intensity the former Ranger would never want to see in an approaching enemy’s face. He wouldn’t cross this man unless there was absolutely no alternative to doing so. “Sir, I give you my word.”
DeHaven nodded once in recognition of Chien’s vow and then began to quietly explain his concerns. “That VIP you and Maxwell welcomed to the helipad last night was a major from USAMRIID. The people who are paying for us to be here asked me to attend the meeting that took place last night between their leaders and that medical officer. I know they took my confidence for granted; they apparently forgot that my first allegiance is always to my men. That’s why I’m talking with you now.
“The USAMRIID officer told everyone that they’ve developed a vaccine, that all of their people at Dietrick are being inoculated as well as the president and his staff. Next, the vaccine will start going out
to the troops as fast as it can be manufactured. The major brought four hundred doses along with him, saying that General Barnes wanted to make sure his friends here would be safe from the virus even if the infection manages to get past our lines.”
DeHaven stopped talking, and after a long pause where he showed no sign of resuming his story, Chien tried prompting him by saying, “That seems like great news, sir. Why do you seem so troubled by it?”
The mercenary grunted a humorless laugh and explained, “You and I both know that skill and ability only take you so far in our business; if you don’t have good instincts, you won’t last long on modern battlefields.”
When Chien nodded his agreement, DeHaven continued, “So we first heard about this virus, what, two weeks ago? How in the hell does USAMRIID have a vaccine so quickly? The world’s greatest minds haven’t been able to stop AIDS after more than thirty years of trying, so how come this virus is so easy to figure out? I’ll tell you what I think, Longstreet, this virus didn’t come from nature. I think the damn thing was engineered. Makes sense that whoever made the virus also developed a vaccine for it.”
He hesitated for a few seconds before declaring, “I smell a rat.”
Chien waited respectfully until he was certain DeHaven wanted a response, “Even if that’s true, why does having the vaccine delivered here bother you? We all want to live through this thing, and a vaccine seems like a good tool to have in your survival bag.”
DeHaven just stared back and frowned before explaining, “I don’t care all that much for Americans—haven’t cared since ‘Nam. But I don’t purposely kill civilians, especially women and children. What happened at the roadblock yesterday was heinous; we butchered a bunch of desperate, terrified, civilians trying to get their families to safety. Why? Did they represent some sort of threat to national security? No, we killed those people because some wealthy bastards are paying us to isolate them from everyone else because they are frightened too. So we killed one group of scared people because another group of scared people paid us to. Now I have reason to believe that the people paying us to kill are involved in some sort of conspiracy to gain access to a vaccine before everyone else. I may be a mercenary, Longstreet, but I’m not a monster.”
Chien grimly nodded as he explained, “I’ve been in battles all over this damn planet, but yesterday’s little dust-up has me seriously considering checking out for good. I feel like I’ve lost my way, somehow, and what we did yesterday was proof. Hell, I know we’re all professionals, and we just reacted to being attacked, but as soon as I had time to think about what happened at that bridge I started losing it. Sir, I don’t want to leave any of you behind, but I’m done with this mission.”
DeHaven smiled wryly and agreed, “Me too.” He looked down at his desk as if making a difficult decision before adding, “Our employers want me to order our men to take the vaccine while they use the rest for their group. I’m not gonna do that. There’re two hundred kids on this island that should have it before any Red Eagle troops are inoculated. I want you to stick with us for a few more days. If headquarters learns about my refusal to accept the vaccine they might can me, and you’d be the logical choice to take my place. If you eventually want to eat a bullet over that nastiness at the bridge, well, you wouldn’t be the first to do something like that. But I want you to think about trying to make amends for what happened out there before you off yourself. I believe we’re both redeemable, and there’s still a just battle for us to fight.”
The disillusioned colonel felt a spark of hope, “I’m listening.”
“I have twenty-three men in this outfit that’d follow me to hell and back; I trust them completely. You have anyone like that here?”
“No sir, I just haven’t been around long enough to be able to vouch for anyone else’s loyalty. I’d be happy to join your group though.”
DeHaven nodded his approval, “Good, you’re hired.” He looked at his watch before continuing, “In thirty-eight minutes we’re marching into the building where the USAMRIID major set up shop last night. We’re going in locked and loaded, and we will use lethal force if necessary to accomplish our mission. We’re gonna take that little slime-ball down to the local clinic and make him inoculate the first four hundred children and parents who show up for it. You still in?”
Chien felt a weight lift from his heart as he smiled, “Damn right I’m in.”
* * *
The operation was simple, and the motivations of the men conducting it were good, all of which produced a sort of euphoria in Chien’s mind as they crashed through doors and windows before ordering everyone in the house down to the large family room. The USAMRIID major was obviously frightened, but did his best to hide his fear as he demanded, “What’s the meaning of this? I’m an officer in the United States Army and you’re a bunch of Red Eagle goons holding me at gunpoint!”
DeHaven shouted from behind his balaclava, “Shut your yapper before I smash your ugly teeth down your throat. I need you alive for the moment, but I don’t need you talking. We’re here because nobody on this island has the balls or ability to stop us from being here. You’re gonna give those vaccines you brought to as many children and parents as possible on this island, then I’m gonna fly back to Dietrick with you and we’re gonna pick up enough for the rest of the civilians here.”
The wide-eyed major frantically shook his head, “I have my orders, sir. Half of the vaccines were administered last night after the meeting, and the rest are for you and your men.”
“Who’d you give the vaccines to?” DeHaven snarled the question.
“Well,” the medical officer stammered, “I was told to make sure I inoculated the people in charge of the island, but they made me administer the vaccine to others first, mostly folks who work for them. They told me that they want to see what the side-effects of the medication are, even though I informed them that our own people at Dietrick have already been inoculated and some have survived bites from the infected. But I still have the vaccines that are supposed to go to security personnel here, so there’s no need for you come crashing in here like this.”
“Christ on a crutch,” DeHaven muttered to himself before shouting, “None of my men will accept inoculation until every civilian on Mount Desert has received the vaccine!”
He turned to Chien, “Get this situation under control, and help the doctor change his underwear. I’m gonna find our employers and have a little chat with them.”
A half hour later DeHaven returned with word that the group of wealthy citizens paying for Red Eagle’s services hadn’t been informed by General Barnes that a vaccine was being sent to them, and they wouldn’t accept inoculation until they spoke with him directly. They’d also insisted that all of their friends and employees who’d been vaccinated the night before had volunteered for it.
Chien ordered the USAMRIID to major set up shop at a small table covered with vials of the vaccine, and soon there was a line of nearby residents waiting for their turn to be inoculated. He finally pulled DeHaven aside and whispered, “Maybe we shouldn’t be offering this thing to anyone; there’s gotta be a reason the high and mighty don’t want it.”
DeHaven shook his head slightly, “Why should those rich bastards be USAMRIID’s test animals for this thing? They feel secure here, which they probably are for the time being, so why shouldn’t they play it safe and see how the field trials go before they take it. And that’s what this vaccine is going through right now, a field trial. I mean, the fact that USAMRIID’s people are accepting it says a lot about how safe they believe it is. Did you fully inform the people here about the circumstances and our concerns?”
“Yeah, but they all feel it’s worth the risk. They’re convinced that people come and go from this island every night right under our eyes, so it’s just a matter of time before the infection shows up here.”
DeHaven looked over the line of mostly women and children as if he was weighing options, “Well, I guess a lot of Americans are having t
o make some damn tough decisions these days. They’re right about it just being a matter of time here on the island; we simply don’t have the manpower to keep this much coastline under constant surveillance.
“Look, head back to HQ and tell the squad leaders to make sure our spotters on the water are changing locations every six hours. Then you get out to the bridge roadblock and do anything short of surrender to avoid any more bloodshed there. Use your imagination. I’m gonna stay here and keep an eye on this major, make sure he stays here. Maybe he’s got coms with Dietrick and can order more vaccine sent to the island, or we might need to accompany him there and take it. I won’t do anything without letting you know.”
As Chien turned to leave, DeHaven reached out and lightly touched him on the shoulder, “Thanks for doing this, colonel.”
Chien gave a slight smile, “Rangers lead the way, sir.”
* * *
Following the one-sided battle of the day before nobody tried rushing the roadblock at the bridge again, but a small delegation of refugees did come forward under a white flag and ask to speak with the man in charge. Colonel Longstreet went out alone to meet with the shabby-looking civilians, who mainly wanted to know where the bodies of their dead were. They all seemed relieved to learn that their loved ones had been buried, perhaps worried that the dead had been drug off by the infected or tossed into the ocean once darkness had set in. Chien told the refugees that Red Eagle had been forced to protect its people, and that the presence of competent snipers supported by covering fire left no doubt that the civilians had planned to use deadly force from the beginning.
A tall, middle-aged woman with gray-streaked hair pulled back into a ponytail explained, “Most of the shooters were members of a motorcycle gang that arrived three days ago. I knew they were trouble from the beginning, but some of our people believed the gang-leader when he told them that Mount Desert had been taken over by a group of super-rich people with more resources than they would ever need. After the White House fell, he didn’t have much trouble convincing a dozen of our men to join his group of thugs in the attack on your position. Of course, our people were the ones who blindly charged into your mines . . .