The Sixth Level (Secret Apocalypse Book 2)

by James Harden

  It didn't take long for the global media to become suspicious of the US military's involvement in the quarantine procedure.

  They had blockaded the entire Australian coastline, preventing anyone, even aid ships like the Red Cross from getting in. Naturally they said it was part of the quarantine measure. But the real reason was they didn't want any camera crews or journalists getting in. They didn't want any leaked footage of what it was really like on Australian soil. And they didn't want any more blood on their hands. They knew if anyone got passed their blockade they were done for. They weren't coming back. Not alive anyway.

  Blockading the entire coastline was no easy feat especially since Australia is the largest island on the planet. It was a huge effort and took the combined forces of the US Navy, the British Navy, and what was left of the Australian Navy.

  There's a well known saying that Kenji's father use to drill into Kenji. It was posted on their fridge in their kitchen and on Kenji's bedroom door.

  Those with the most invested are the last to surrender.

  The military had invested everything. They had invested billions of dollars, soldiers, innocent people. They now had twenty-two million lives on their hands. You can't get anymore invested than that. It was one of the worst disasters in human history. An extinction level event. And the scary thing was a whole lot more people could die. Millions more. Billions more.

  So yeah, the military were invested. And they were going to do everything in their considerable power to stop this thing.

  The weird thing was the military or the allied forces if you will, they were the fall guy, the patsy. Who was in charge?

  Kenji said the military's mission in Australia was the quarantine. He said they were on clean up and containment duty. Someone else was pulling the strings. So who was it? Was it some secret organization? Maybe a multi-national pharmaceutical company? How much were they paying the military to be the face of this disaster? What was the benefit? Was it a new biological weapon, like Doctor West said it was? Or something else? Something worse?

  I know I sound like a crazy old conspiracy theorist but in my mind there was no other logical explanation. The military must have had a damn good reason to be taking this kind of heat.

  We made our way into the stadium and to my surprise the conference was going to be held on the actual basketball court.

  There was a podium situated at one end of the court and a long table with at least a dozen chairs just to the right of this.

  Also to my surprise I was told or ordered I guess, to sit at the table. The military wanted me front and centre, right in the spot light. The PR guy walked passed me on his way to the podium and gave me this smug look like he was saying, ‘You wanna play games and be a star on YouTube? Then you can sit out the front here with the rest of us.’

  The table was full of high ranking military officers, generals and admirals. The vice-president was there as well. In front of each seat was a folder full of notes. Microphones were positioned in front of each person.

  I've never felt so out of place in my life. Luckily, Daniel took a seat next to me, which made me feel a little less nervous.

  The place was buzzing as the reporters and journalists took their seats. They filled the court and even some of the seats in the stands.

  The PR guy took the podium and cleared his throat. I could see his hands shaking with nerves. A thin layer of sweat had formed above his top lip.

  The buzzing ceased.

  He thanked everyone for coming at such short noticed and gave a brief introduction and explanation about why they called the press conference.

  Basically, it was to put to rest the rumors and internet chatter about the Oz virus and the situation in Australia. He never actually mentioned my video but it was obvious that's what he was talking about.

  Ultimately, they wanted to clear the air and make sure everyone was as well informed as they could be.

  Gee, what a nice guy.

  He gave the crowd and the cameras a nice warm, friendly smile. This guy was good and he was getting into a rhythm now. I noticed that his hands had stopped shaking.

  "So first things first," he said. "We need to give you all a bit of back ground information on the Oz virus. From certain classified intelligence reports we know that the virus was developed by a network of extremely advanced and extremely dangerous terrorist splinter cells in the late 80's early 90's. We don't know who exactly created it or where it originated from. What we do know is that an earlier strain of the virus was used in the first Gulf War. Again, we don't know who used it. But we saw firsthand the devastation. It had a one hundred percent kill rate. No one survived. We kept this hidden. It was classified above top secret. We didn't want anyone, especially our enemies, or other terrorist cells to even know that this virus existed. We were providing support and security to an organization who had taken on the arduous task of trying to develop an anti-virus, and a vaccine against this weapon. As you know, to develop a cure you first have to understand the virus, how it acts, how it survives. We were close to a break through when we had a containment failure in a research facility in Australia.

  "Our biggest fear has always been that one of our enemies would develop a weaponized version of the virus. And as such it is our top priority to develop a cure. We have always taken the utmost precaution and safety measures in our research facilities. The containment failure was an unforeseen tragedy."

  I sat their shaking my head. They were lying. At least, I think they were lying. They were so good at it even I started to doubt myself. Now they sounded like the good guys, like they had taken on this terrible burden. They sounded like they were protecting the entire world.

  It was genius.

  A reporter shouted a question from the back. They didn't wait for question time or even raise their hand. They just blurted it out. The voice was full of fear. "Is the virus airborne!?"

  "No," The PR guy replied. "In its present form, the virus can only be transmitted through blood or saliva."

  Another reporter raised their hand to ask a question. "Who is the mystery organization you are working with to develop an anti-virus?"

  "That's classified."

  "What were the details of the intelligence reports about the use of the virus in the first Gulf War? How was it contained back then?"

  "That's classified. Please, Ladies and gentlemen if we could keep this moving along we have a lot of information to get through. There will be a full Q and A session at the conclusion of the conference. We have a lot of ground to cover. As you know, the secondary objective of this press conference is to announce the Military's plan to rescue Maria Marsh. She is the only person on record who has shown any resistance to the Oz virus."

  The same reporter kept up his aggressive line of questioning. "How do we know that claim is true?"

  "To be honest we don't know," the PR guy answered. "And we won't know until we can run some definitive tests on her."

  "So we're going to risk soldier’s lives on an unsubstantiated rumor?"

  "We have it on good authority that Maria Marsh is not only resistant to the Oz virus but that she is completely immune. Considering what she could mean for our research I'd say she is definitely worth the risk."

  "Who’s authority?"

  "Rebecca Robinson has given a detailed eye witness report. We are acting on her authority."

  Suddenly the heat was on me. I could feel all the cameras, the microphones and Dictaphones and the reporters eyeballs focus on me. They wanted to know if Maria Marsh was really immune. They wanted to know if this whole mission was worthwhile or if it was just a waste of time and energy and hope.

  "She's immune," I reassured them.

  I was then prompted to speak up as no one could hear me properly. Daniel then leaned over and repositioned the microphone in front of me so that it was closer to my mouth. I leaned forward and repeated myself. "She's immune."

  "How do we know that?"

  "Well I guess I can't be sure. But
I was there. I saw everything. She came in direct contact with the infection..."

  "What does that mean? Can you elaborate please," a reporter asked, interrupting me.

  Whatever happened to waiting for the Q and A session, I thought?

  "She was bitten by another person. A person who was infected. She was bitten on the ankle. At first we thought she was going to turn..."

  "Turn?"

  "Yeah. I... I don’t know how else to describe it. When a person becomes infected, when the virus takes over they change. They turn. Maria started to change. We decided that we needed to..." I choked on the words. It's hard to believe what we were going to do, what we were prepared to do and what we had to do to survive. "We needed to take care of her," I said. "To put her out of her misery before she turned, before she became a threat to the rest of us."

  "A threat?"

  I look at PR guy to see if it was all right to divulge this bit of information. He nodded his head.

  "A person infected with the Oz virus, will attack a non-infected person to spread the infection. They become aggressive and violent. We needed to make sure she didn't attack us."

  "So you were going to kill her?"

  I lowered my head. "Yes. But it never came to that. We didn't have to. The virus never took over. She didn't turn. In less than a few hours she had fully recovered."

  "Why wasn't this information made known during your previous interview?"

  I opened my mouth to answer but the PR guy took over once again, getting the spotlight off me. "The virus is extremely fast acting," he said. "Observable symptoms include violence, aggression, increased strength and facial hemorrhaging. Rebecca’s report indicated that Maria Marsh displayed none of these symptoms."

  Daniel reached over and held my hand. It was a timely show of support. The whole thing only lasted a few minutes but I felt like I'd been squeezed in a vice and dragged over a bed of hot coals.

  "How will you find her?" a reporter asked.

  "We have her coordinates from a radio transmission that was broadcasted on the 23rd."

  "The 23rd? Why has it taken so long to act? It’s been over a week now."

  "These things need to be planned. Soldiers need to be briefed and mobilized. We have to be prepared. We have to take every precaution when embarking on such a dangerous mission."

  "Has there been any other contact with the survivors?"

  "No."

  "So how do we know they are safe? How do we know they are still alive?"

  "They are situated in an extremely safe location," The PR guy assured.

  Another lie, I thought to myself. They had been running for their lives in that last transmission.

  After a brief question and answer time they introduced the Special Forces rescue team. Apparently such a public introduction and divulging of mission information has never happened before.

  They introduced the team via satellite link up from an aircraft carrier anchored in the Tasman Sea about one hundred miles off the coast of Sydney. I wondered if it was the same aircraft carrier I saw leaving the harbor the day I escaped from Sydney.

  The rescue team were the best and the brightest. They were the strongest soldiers the US Navy and Australian Special Air Service - the ‘SAS’ had to offer. Their leader looked strong. He was a veteran of both Gulf Wars and he had served in Afghanistan. I wondered if he had served with my father.

  But there was something about him I didn't like. He didn't just look confident. He looked over confident. Arrogant. I got the impression he thought this mission was going to be a cake walk. And that scared me. He didn't know what was waiting for him in Sydney. How could he? Even if he had been briefed on the virus, there's a difference between reading about it and experiencing it up close. The team leader spoke briefly and assured us and the rest of the world the mission would be a success. His men were the best operators in the world. And the Australian SAS soldiers would provide firsthand knowledge of the local terrain.

  He said according to Private Kenji Yoshida's radio call for help; they knew exactly where the targets were hiding. Luckily Yoshida was able to get Maria Marsh up to the higher levels of one of the skyscrapers in the CBD of Sydney. He said in an urban warfare type of environment, the high ground is the safest place to be. It offered them a great tactical advantage, and a great deal of protection. It would simply be a matter of landing a chopper on the building they were seeking refuge in and extracting them. He even made a joke about how doing this kind of thing usually involved being shot at with rocket launchers and anti-aircraft guns. Not having to deal with any of that would be a sweet relief.

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

  He went on to say they usually operate in complete secrecy so the preparation for this rescue was a bit weird. But they understood this wasn't the usual, run of the mill mission. And as such it's taken a little bit longer to prepare for. He said they deconstruct everything and think of everything that could go wrong. They make counter-measures and contingency plans.

  Again, he assured everyone they would find Maria Marsh.

  A cure would be created.

  Australia would be saved.

  The world would be saved.

  Everyone clapped and cheered. Everyone but me.

  Chapter 3

  It was hard to sleep that night. There were just too many thoughts whirling around inside my head, all of them jostling for position.

  Daniel and I arrived back at the penthouse close to midnight. And I headed straight for bed. Daniel said he had to go back out for a debriefing mission. I didn't care. I just wanted to sleep.

  As I jumped into the enormous king-sized bed in the master bedroom I wondered how much longer I would get to stay there in the lap of luxury. One thing was for certain, the military wanted me. I guess I was the face of the apocalypse.

  I assumed they still wanted me for interviews. Especially since they were rescuing my friends. Well, one of my friends. They wanted me for the reaction and the reunion and the tears. I bet the whole thing had already been planned. They were so sure the mission would be a success.

  I even overheard the PR Guy talking about how they were going to fly Maria's parents in from France or wherever they were for special exclusive interviews and the emotional, tear-filled reunion. They were gearing up for a television ratings bonanza.

  As always, when I tried to sleep, the flash backs started up. Bad flashbacks. They're always so real, so life like. When they start up it’s impossible to sleep.

  Although I must admit sometimes there are nice flash backs. Like the time Jack and Maria and I were swimming at Bondi Beach and we got caught in the middle of a jelly fish swarm. It wasn't nice at the time obviously but whenever I look back, I can’t help but laugh.

  Jack and I came out in huge red marks where the tentacles and stingers had gotten us. Jack was stung worse than I was. He even needed some happy gas to ease his pain. We both had red marks for over a week. Maria on the other hand healed up real quick. A day later she didn't even have any red marks on her at all. She really was a tough girl. She had a jelly fish tangled up around her neck for crying out loud. But she was fine.

  And in a weird way it brought us closer together as friends.

  That was a nice flashback. It even brought a smile to my face. But ultimately that memory would lead into some nasty, terrifying, not so nice flashback. Like the time at the casino when Maria was bitten by one of the infected and Jack was preparing himself to take care of her, to shoot her.

  Thinking about that over and over was enough to make me break out into a cold sweat and keep me up all night.

  When I thought about stuff like that my heart would start racing. I could hear the blood rushing around my body and around my head. Everything was so real, like I was experiencing it all over again, like I could actually hear the moaning, screaming howl of the infected and the constant pop of automatic machine gun fire.

  Suddenly there was a banging on my bedroom door. I sat straight up and held my
breath.

  It took me a second to realize that it was someone knocking on the door, a person and not something else.

  I took a few deep breaths and waited for my heart rate to slow. "Who is it?"

  "Rebecca, it's me. It's Daniel."

  My heart rate picked back up and started beating like a drum. What was he doing knocking on my bedroom door this late at night? He knows not to come in here. Was he going to try something? Did he want to 'talk'? I totally did not want to talk. Not now. Not in the middle of the freakin night.

  "What do you want?" I asked.

  "We need to talk."

  Oh God. He was gonna do it. He wanted to talk about the kiss. "I don't want to talk about that now. Can't it wait till morning?"

  "No. It can't wait. I need to show you something."

  He didn't wait for me to respond or to say it was OK to come in. I could've been naked. But when I saw his face in the moonlight, I knew he didn't want to talk about that stupid little kiss. He looked different somehow. He looked more serious than I'd seen him these past couple of days.

  "What do we need to talk about?" I asked. "What do you need to show me?"

  He had an iPad tablet computer thingy in his hand. "I need to show you this."

  "What is it?"

  "It's footage of the rescue team. The mission footage."

  "Mission footage? How the hell did you get that? Wait, I thought the mission was scheduled for tomorrow?"

  "That's what I need to talk to you about."

  He was starting to scare me.

  "Rebecca, I haven’t been completely honest with you."

  "Honest? What are you talking about?"

  "I don't work for the US military."

  "Then who do you work for?" I asked as I tensed up. "And what are you doing here?"

  "I'm a mercenary."

  "A what?"

  "A mercenary. I'm part of a team of mercenaries. We're private contractors basically. We do jobs that no one else can do. Jobs that no one else wants to do."

  "So what the hell are you doing here?" I asked. "What job is this? Are you here to kill me?"