“What’s got you so excited, Chris?”
“The tapes! I went through the tapes! You wouldn’t believe what I found!”
“Okay, calm down. What did you find?”
“He didn’t do it!”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t blow up the boat!”
“Then who did?”
“It wasn’t us. It just blew up, almost exactly twenty minutes after you said he left shore.”
Kane’s eyebrows slowly rose.
“As if it were on a timer.”
“Exactly.”
“But who the hell would rig their own escape boat to blow up after twenty minutes?”
And that’s when Leroux dropped the bombshell on Kane.
Eglin AFB, Florida
Dawson was exhausted and pissed off. They had been interrogating Anton Koslov for over an hour now, and had gotten nowhere. He kept insisting only Fowler knew where the doctor was being held. Dawson didn’t believe him, but Koslov kept insisting. Dawson wasn’t sure what his game was, why he would keep up this pretense of not knowing anything, when he had a Presidential pardon against any prosecution. All he had to do was cooperate.
And he wasn’t.
“So, now that Fowler’s dead, what are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how will you get paid?”
“I was paid in advance.”
“For how long?”
“What do you mean?”
“How long are you under contract?”
Koslov seemed to be caught off guard by the question.
“Actually, my contract is up at the end of the month.”
“Kind of coincidental.”
“What do you mean?”
“The world’s going to end at the same time your contract does.”
Koslov shrugged.
“So?”
“So, where are you going to spend all that money—I assume it’s a lot of money?”
“Oh yeah.”
“So where are you going to spend it if the world has gone to hell?”
“It won’t all go to hell, and with the kind of money I was paid, I will be part of those that rule in the new world order.”
Dawson harrumphed.
“From what I can see from the news, if anybody will be ruling this planet, it will be women, not men.”
“Less competition.”
“And a lot of anger directed at you since your face will be known to every survivor on the planet as the man who did this to them.”
“Groupies.”
Dawson had to admit the man had a flippant answer to everything, and it was tiring. The man wasn’t scared at all. Was it because he figured he was safe on a military base that was quarantined? Or was it something else?
“You realize that we’re putting you into an isolation ward with the victims of your disease if you don’t cooperate. Your pardon will still be in effect. You’ll be a free man, treated like any other infected citizen.”
“I’m not infected.”
“You will be once you’re with them.”
“Perhaps.”
“So the antiviral is more specific than just men. It’s men with some other trait?”
“I didn’t say that. I honestly have no idea what he’s targeted. I only know what the news tells me, and in Russia you learn not to trust the news.”
“So you were given some sort of vaccine?”
“Vaccine? Never touch the stuff. Don’t you know that scientific experts like Jenny McCarthy say they cause autism?” He smiled. “In Russia we get Oprah.”
“You shouldn’t take medical advice from Playmates. You just might get your kids killed, or your neighbors’ kids killed.”
“Don’t have any kids. Hate my neighbors.”
This is getting nowhere.
There was a knock at the door. Dawson opened it to find Kane standing there. He motioned Dawson to join him in the hall. Dawson looked at Koslov who was eyeballing Kane with what seemed to be amusement. Don’t let his age fool you. Dawson walked from the room, closing the door behind him.
“What is it?”
Kane whispered something in his ear, and his jaw dropped.
Unbefreakinleivable!
Langley Field, Air Combat Command
Lieutenant Colonel Chernov dialed the number he had been provided with, refusing to accompany the soldiers to the awaiting vehicle, his finger held up defiantly in the air. After several rings the call was answered.
“This is Mr. White.”
“Sergeant Major, this is Chernov. What the hell is going on?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“I’m here and they’re taking me to Langley. Where is Koslov?”
“He’s here with us, in Florida.”
“Then I need to be there, not in Virginia!”
“Agreed, sir. Put me on with the commanding officer there, then I’ll make a phone call.”
Chernov handed the phone to the Captain who was growing increasingly impatient if his pacing were any indication.
“This is Captain Lewis. Who is this?” – “Sergeant Major?” – “Listen, Sergeant Major, I have my orders, and this man is coming with me to Langley.” – “I don’t care how high you think your orders—” – “I see. The President. No, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to wait ten minutes. Very well, Sergeant Major. You have ten minutes.”
The Captain tossed the phone back to Chernov, who turned his back on the man and faced his pilot, Major Bodrov.
“We lost the Cold War to these people?”
Bodrov laughed.
Decontamination Zone, Interim LSU Public Hospital, New Orleans, Louisiana
“Are you okay?”
Katherine looked up to find Dr. Johnston rushing over. She patted Corkery on the chest and gave him a look of gratitude as he removed his arm from her shoulders.
“Thanks, I needed that.”
“Any time, Doctor, my shoulder is always free of charge.”
She chuckled, wiping her face dry with a kerchief from her pocket, then looked at the concerned face of Dr. Johnston.
“I’m okay, just having a moment.”
“Nothing to be ashamed about. I’ve had several, but none with a young shoulder to cry on.”
Corkery stood and patted his shoulder. “Come on, Doc, you know you want to.”
Johnston laughed then sat down in the vacated seat. Corkery was about to walk away when Johnston held up his hand.
“You might want to hear this as well, Doctor.”
“What is it?” asked Katherine, her emotions again compartmentalized.
“I’ve got some good news, if you can call it that.”
“What?”
“Well, the CDC has confirmed that there hasn’t been a single case of the BRCA1 variant of the antiviral outside of New Orleans that can’t be traced directly back to the Saints game. It appears there have been no secondary infections.”
“Thanks terrific news!” exclaimed Corkery. “Does that mean they’re going to lift the quarantine?”
Johnston shook his head.
“No. The second variant seems to be concentrated here, which makes sense since the truck stop with the canister of antiviral was just outside of the city, and probably half the traffic was heading into the city, the rest heading around the country. This is still the epicenter of both outbreaks, so the quarantine stays in place.”
“Seems rather pointless, considering its all across the world.”
“I agree. I think it’s now more optics than anything else. The President wants to be seen as doing something. Lifting a quarantine when so many people are sick would seem foolish to an uninformed public. I’m guessing that if we don’t have a handle on this in a few days, he figures nothing will matter anyway. But if we do, he’ll have only pissed off a few hundred thousand voters in New Orleans, rather than having appeared weak and overly compassionate to two hundred million voters.”
“You’re
a cynical man, Dr. Johnston. I think you and I would get along just fine,” said Corkery.
“If we make it out of this, we’re all going for beers. Next person who cries, pays.”
Katherine playfully slapped him on the back of his hand then stood up.
“That’s enough ‘me’ time. I’m going to check on our patients.”
Langley Field, Air Combat Command
“You have them?”
“Yes, comrade Colonel.”
Lieutenant Colonel Chernov smiled. Finally, something is going right.
“Hold them until I get back to you. They aren’t allowed to communicate with anyone.”
“Understood, Colonel.”
“I will contact you soon.”
Chernov ended the call, stuffing the cellphone back in his pocket as a Humvee pulled up, a Major jumping out and running toward him.
“Colonel Chernov?”
“Yes.”
“I’m terribly sorry for the confusion. If you’ll come with me, we’ll have you where you need to be in a jiffy.”
A jiffy?
He decided not to ask.
“Very well.”
The major turned to the captain and his men.
“Captain, you’re dismissed.”
The Captain snapped to attention with a crisp salute.
“Yes, sir!”
He turned and left with his men as they double-timed it back to wherever they had come from.
Chernov didn’t care. He climbed in the Humvee and the major held up his hand when Chernov’s pilot Bodrov tried to join them.
“My orders are for the Colonel only. You can remain here until the Colonel returns, or you can be refueled and begin your journey home. It’s you choice, Major.”
Bodrov turned to Chernov.
“Your orders, sir?”
“Return home. There’s no reason for you to risk catching the virus.”
Bodrov bowed slightly.
“Thank you, sir. It’s been an honor.”
He snapped to attention and saluted, Chernov returning the salute from the backseat of the Humvee.
“Do svidaniya, Major.”
“Do svidaniya, Colonel. I trust that I will indeed see you again.”
The Humvee began to roll and Chernov leaned back, his mind in Moscow, dreaming of the frigid Moskva River and skating in Gorky Park during his youth with his childhood sweetheart. He had married her, but she had died during childbirth, and the boy, his son, soon after.
It had been devastating, and he had sworn to never repeat it, instead marrying the Army and his country. He remembered the horror of watching his tiny child die and how long it had taken him to get over both their deaths.
And he knew if he couldn’t get Koslov to talk, it was an experience that would be repeated billions of times over.
Eglin AFB, Florida
Dawson snapped his jaw shut, not sure how long it had sat there open in shock. The bomb Kane had just dropped changed everything, but at the same time, unless they got Koslov to talk, it changed nothing.
“Let’s see how he reacts to this news,” said Dawson, opening the door to the interrogation room. Entering, he sat down at the table across from their prisoner, Kane standing behind him, in the corner, saying nothing, simply staring at Koslov, his rippling arms crossed across his chest.
Dawson tapped a finger on the table and Koslov looked at him.
“Yes?”
“You lied to me, Anton.”
“I did? I don’t recall lying. What did I lie about?”
“Scott Fowler is alive.”
Koslov chuckled, a smile spreading across his face.
“You finally figured it out, huh? You know, it was my idea.”
“Why don’t you run it by me?”
“I hired a decoy. Everything would be tracked back to the decoy, then if we were ever raided, we’d destroy the compound, and our Fowler double would escape. After twenty minutes into his hour long journey, the boat explodes, and everyone thinks he’s dead.”
“Did the double know that part?”
Koslov grinned.
“Nyet.”
“So where is Fowler now?”
Koslov shrugged.
“You’d have to ask him.”
Dawson jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Kane.
“Do you know who he is?”
Koslov shook his head.
“Never had the pleasure.”
“He’s CIA. Highly trained in interrogation techniques including torture. Due to the current situation, the President has lifted all rules. We’re allowed to do anything we want, including torture you. To death if necessary.” Dawson leaned forward. “If you don’t answer my questions, you will answer his.”
Koslov smiled slightly.
“I doubt it.”
Dawson stood up.
“I warned you.” He turned to Kane. “Your turn.”
Kane walked over to Koslov, shooting him in both knees.
Eglin AFB, Florida
Chernov was escorted into a quarantine area and made to wait again, but at least this time the wait wasn’t long. Within five minutes a Sergeant Major appeared on the other side of the glass, his face grim, as grim as the pilot’s who had flown him down here in a two-seater F/A-18F Super Hornet in record time. He imagined much of the country looked like this.
There wasn’t much to smile about.
“Colonel Chernov?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Sergeant Major White.”
Chernov smiled, understanding the need to maintain the man’s cover.
“Nice to finally meet you, face-to-face, sort of,” he replied, tapping on the glass.
“Sir, currently you are quarantined in an interim zone known to be virus free, but where the personnel are awaiting blood test results. We are in an area we can’t guarantee is virus free, as we had to interrogate our prisoner, so volunteered to be potentially exposed. You may join us here in hazmat gear should you wish, or await blood test results, and interrogate the prisoner remotely.”
“Sergeant Major, just let me in there. I don’t give a damn about any virus.”
Dawson’s lips thinned as he nodded, apparently impressed with his Russian balls.
“Very well, sir.”
Dawson left his room and moments later Chernov was escorted through several doors, sprayed down again then let through a final door where the Sergeant Major “White” greeted him with a slight bow.
“Colonel, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to where the prisoner is being held.”
“Is he okay?”
“Define okay?”
“Alive?”
“Last time I saw him, yes. He won’t be for long unless you can get some answers out of him. We’ve had our best try, but he just seems impervious to pain, and doesn’t seem to care whether or not he dies.” Dawson paused. “He’s really rather remarkable.”
“He is that,” agreed Chernov as they approached a door. Dawson knocked, and a moment later a young man exited, blood on his clothes and knuckles. “Lieutenant Colonel Chernov, this is Mr. Black.”
Chernov nodded.
“So, did you get anything out of him?” asked Chernov.
“Yes, but not what we wanted, nor will we. He’s dying. He’s got less than three months to live, and is hopped up on so many pain killers, he barely feels a thing. I shot him in both knees and he barely winced.”
“You shot him? Mr. Black, that’s a violation of the Geneva Convention!”
“Colonel, there is no Geneva Convention here. Geneva’s dying like the rest of the world. Under Presidential order we have been authorized to use any and all means to get what we need in order to stop this virus,” replied Mr. Black.
Chernov nodded.
“Fortunately for you, Russia agrees.” He filled his chest with air, squaring his shoulders. “Let me speak to him.”
Mr. Black opened the door.
“By all means, Colonel. Good luck.”
Chernov entered the stark white room and nearly gasped. Blood was pooled on the floor beneath both knees, now bandaged up, and his former comrade’s face was bloody and bruised. The so-called “Mr. Black” had certainly done a number on his old friend, but from as far as he could tell, there was no permanent damage except the knees. But if his friend only had a few months to live, then he wouldn’t have much more use for them anyway.
“Colonel? What are you doing here?”
“Major. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” asked Chernov as he sat down across from his friend.
“I messed up, sir.”
“Clearly. And why didn’t you tell me you were dying?”
Koslov looked away.
“I don’t want people’s sympathy.”
“You won’t get it from me. Not after what you’ve done.”
Koslov looked back at Chernov.
“I deserved that. But if you think you’re going to be able to appeal to my better nature to give you the information you need, you’re wasting your time.”
Chernov stretched his legs out and crossed his arms, getting comfortable.
“Anton, my old friend, I know you too well. You are dying, that I did not know, and it was the only piece of this puzzle that I was missing. Now that I have it, I know everything.”
“Forgive me, Colonel, but you know nothing.”
Chernov smiled.
“I visited your parents.”
Koslov’s eyes widened slightly and the muscles in his throat contracted for a split second as he swallowed, the micro-expressions written all over his face revealing all the truth Chernov needed.
Koslov recovered.
“And how are they?”
“Oh, they are living quite well. I especially like the television. I would get one myself if I could afford it.”
Koslov scratched his wrist.
“My father won the lottery, offered me some of it, but I told him to spend it on themselves.”
“That was very nice of you. Bullshit of course, but still, a very nice sentiment if it were true.”
Koslov didn’t reply, merely scratched his cheek, then winced slightly as he reset his broken nose. He didn’t respond.
Containment Failure (A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller, Book #2) Page 27