Lethal Game

by Julie Rowe

  She checked her watch and discovered she’d slept for a couple of hours. Not enough, but it would have to do. She stood and went to stare at her microscope and decided that since all her testing had turned up no useful results, it was time to change tactics and start testing for pathogens that didn’t necessarily fit the symptoms.

  Something nagged at the back of her mind.

  The mid-afternoon sun beat hot wings over her face and neck as she walked the short distance to the sleeping tent. Stalls stood guard between the lab and the sleeping tent. Inside Henry and Macler were talking softly. Norton appeared to be sleeping.

  She crawled over to the two men with concussions, pulled out her pen light and checked their pupils. Then she went out the same way she came in.

  “Hey,” Henry whispered, having followed her out. “Um, are they okay or are they dying?”

  “They’re fine. I would have said something if they weren’t.”

  “So, you’re a no news is good news person?”

  “Yeah.” Wasn’t everyone?

  “Okay.” He went back into the tent.

  Sophia entered the lab and considered all the work she’d done. She’d tested for everything that matched the symptoms. Time to try testing for things that didn’t match exactly, but were sort of close. Viruses that affected the brain were a good place to start.

  She prepared new slides of the samples and performed a test that had been used in the field in Tanzania and showed excellent accuracy.

  She looked at each slide with the microscope.

  Then she did it again.

  Both samples were positive.

  Positive.

  For rabies.

  The symptoms didn’t match, but maybe someone, Akbar, had tinkered with the virus like he had with his anthrax strain. The problem was, viruses were harder to work with, control and produce in any amount. This particular virus had been plaguing humans for thousands of years, but had never caused widespread disease for a reason.

  Rabies could only be transmitted under specific circumstances, and could hibernate inside its host for anywhere from weeks to months. Once symptoms manifested though, it was universally fatal.

  This variant of rabies killed in a day, not weeks or months.

  One day.

  If it was Akbar, he seemed to want to speed the disease process up. Not a good prospect for the people he was making sick.

  Something dropped onto her hand.

  She glanced down. A blood drop. As she was studying it, another hit her glove. Crap, she was having a nosebleed.

  Sophia stripped off her gloves and grabbed a couple of squares of gauze to wipe her nose, but it kept bleeding.

  She sat down, pinched the bridge of her nose and let her mind consider the puzzle she’d discovered. What variant of rabies presented like this?

  None.

  No one had so much as hinted at any animal bites. So, where did it come from and how was it infecting so many people?

  She didn’t have an answer for those questions either.

  Her nosebleed seemed to stop, so she left the lab, but Con wasn’t in sight. Neither was Smoke or River. Stalls still stood guard.

  “Where is Sergeant Button?” she asked Stalls.

  “He went to talk to that Len guy. He said he’d be back.”

  Sophia returned to the lab tent and called Max. At least she tried to call Max. She couldn’t get a signal. That was strange. Her satellite phone was working a couple of hours ago.

  She strode out again and headed straight for the hospital tent. Before she got there she could see Dr. Blairmore listening to a patient’s chest. She walked straight toward him.

  As soon as he saw her he snapped, “What do you want?”

  “I’ve determined the pathogen.”

  He seemed to come to a complete stop. Not even breathing. “What?”

  “I’ve determined the pathogen.”

  His tone changed entirely, became hopeful. “What is it?”

  There was nothing hopeful about a rabies virus that killed in approximately twenty-four hours. “Can we speak privately?”

  He hesitated, she could see him arguing with himself about it, but good sense won over pride. He led her to a sheeted-off area where he and his team must rest, wash and eat. It was empty.

  “It’s rabies,” she said to him, her voice just louder than a whisper.

  He frowned. “It can’t be. The clinical picture doesn’t match and no one’s been bitten. Death occurs too rapidly to be rabies.”

  “I know that. I tested for everything I could think of that could match what you’re seeing, but everything came up negative.”

  Dr. Blairmore’s frown deepened. “You can only diagnose rabies from infected brain tissue.”

  “I snuck over to your pile of dead and took two samples while everyone was busy with the air-drop.”

  He shook his head and threw up his hands. “Do you have any idea how large a mistake that was? If the local leaders find out—”

  “Do you have any idea how many people this virus can kill?” she interrupted. “Because it’s killing in a day, Doctor.” She pointed at the sick and dying people on the other side of the tarp. “I know it’s rabies, but I don’t know how people are being infected. Especially, in the large numbers we’re seeing here. I studied rabies in university. There are no known variants that do this.”

  He stared at her blankly.

  “Have you noticed any bite marks on any of the sick?”

  “No.”

  “Are the aid workers getting sick?”

  “Only a few.”

  “So, it’s either airborne, ingested or perhaps contact with contaminated body fluids.”

  For the first time since their first encounter, he looked thoughtful rather than hostile. “I think if it were airborne, we’d be seeing even more sick.”

  “Do you have any rabies immunoglobulin?” she asked.

  “We always bring a little in case someone on the team is bitten by an animal, but only enough for a couple of people.”

  “I tried to call out a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t get a signal. Could you try?”

  He nodded and walked stiffly over to a locked box. He pulled out a cell phone, turned it on and dialed a number. His face froze after a few seconds and he slowly lowered the phone. “I don’t have a signal either.”

  She glanced around. “Where’s Len?”

  “Oh, he said he was going to sleep...” Dr. Blairmore glanced around. “But he doesn’t seem to be here.”

  “Well, that’s not good.” Getting help was her next priority. “Can you keep this quiet until I can consult with my CO? We don’t need to have the population here panicking.”

  “Yes, of course. Panic would be...bad.”

  Very bad.

  She left the area and headed out of the hospital, but stopped walking halfway to the lab tent.

  Stalls wasn’t visible, when he should be standing guard.

  She walked a little closer and saw something dark and shiny on the sand between the lab and sleeping tents. A little closer and she could tell what it was.

  Blood. A lot of it.

  Her breathing seemed to echo in her ears as she looked in the sleeping tent first. Henry, Macler and Norton were all there, but the knife wounds on their necks and blood all over the tent told her they were dead.

  She slithered out, her mind intent on getting herself out of the area as quickly as possible and finding Connor.

  Len was standing between her and the lab tent, the rifle in his arms aimed at her, an entirely unsavory smile on his face.

  Len, who she hadn’t liked from the first. Len, who was supposed to be Connor’s friend. “You killed them.” It was a statement, not a question.
<
br />   He shrugged and said like he had all the time in the world, “Collateral damage.”

  His confidence made her stomach hurt. She looked around, but there was no one to help her. “Where are Connor and the others?”

  Len’s expression was coldly calculating. “Somewhere nice and safe and out of sight, just in case I need them.”

  “For what?”

  He walked toward her slowly. “To make sure you do what you’re ordered to do.”

  “By you?”

  “No, sweetheart.” He reached out to grab a lock of her hair that had come loose.

  She shied away, but that only seemed to make him happier. “I’m the muscle, my business partner is the one who needs you for your brain.”

  Idiot.

  “I knew you were stupid the moment I met you,” she said to him, letting disgust bleed into her words. “Stupid and, very soon, dead.”

  “Who’s going to kill me, sweetheart?” Len asked stressing the name. “You?”

  She grunted. “The person behind all this death. You’re only useful to a point, and when your usefulness ends, you’ll just be another one of those poor bastards over there.” She pointed in the direction of the mass grave. “Dumped in a hole.”

  “That would be bad for business,” said a voice she’d never heard before.

  A man emerged from her lab tent and walked toward her. He looked to be in his late forties, balding and bearded. He stood about five foot ten at the most, and looked incredibly average.

  “Mr. Akbar?” she asked.

  The smile he showed her did nothing to warm his eyes. “Dr. Perry. I’m very happy to meet you at last.”

  “Why would you want to meet me at all? I’m young, female and in poor health. Hardly a threat.”

  “Of all the people I consider a threat, you’re in the top three.”

  Now she knew for certain he was nuts. “Why?”

  “Your knowledge of the rabies virus, of course. I knew it wouldn’t stump you for long, and I see I am right.”

  She deliberately slouched and rolled her shoulders forward. “You didn’t destroy anything in there, did you? That’s my favorite lab.”

  “Certainly not. I need it and you.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  She glanced at the sleeping tent. “Or what, you’ll kill me like you killed them?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know why I wanted you?”

  “Whatever it is, it can’t be worth setting fire to a hotel and killing those men in that tent. They were good men.”

  Akbar’s insincere politeness disappeared like it had never been. In its wake was a very, very angry man. “Yes, yes, good men who take orders and do what they’re told.”

  He came closer and she had to force herself not to back away.

  “It was good men like them who killed my family. My wife, children and parents.” He came a little closer to her. “They were good people too, but there was no mercy for them. I have none for you or any other American soldier.”

  “Dude,” she said, her lips twisted with irritation, “I think the butter has slipped off your noodles.”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Len laughed. “She means you’re crazy.”

  Rage transformed Akbar’s ordinary face into that of a monster as he yelled at Len in Dari.

  Len looked utterly surprised for a moment before he managed to control his reaction.

  “Now do you see what I see, Len?” Sophia asked. “Do you see death on his face?” She moved her gaze from Len’s face to Akbar’s. “He’d kill the whole world if he could.”

  Akbar controlled himself enough to let his facial muscles relax and settle into a cold expression devoid of emotion.

  His eyes couldn’t hide it though, his hatred for everything and everyone. When his family died, any conscience this man had died, too.

  He walked toward her, stopped a couple of feet away, then hit her hard enough to knock her off her feet.

  Stunned, she lay on the sand, one hand landing in part of the blood pool that had belonged to Stalls, the other braced to defend herself from another strike.

  “Now you will listen to me, you stupid woman.” He said the last word like it was something dirty. “You will do as you’re told or I will kill you and the remaining men who came here with you.”

  She stared up at him and tried not to give away how ridiculous she thought he was. She was already dying.

  But Connor, Smoke and River might still be alive. She would have to play his game until she knew for certain what their conditions were.

  “I’m guessing you want me to manipulate your rabies virus in some way?”

  He nodded.

  “That is not a fast process, nor is it an easy one to control.” Disgust and contempt stretched the muscles of her face. “Besides, it looks to me like you have a perfectly good killer virus as it is.”

  “No, it’s missing something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Easy transmission from person to person.”

  Good God, combined with its rapid onset and death, that would give it the potential to wipe humanity off the face of the Earth. “You don’t need me for that. You did a good job of speeding the lifespan of the infection up.”

  “Methods of transmission was one of the key things you studied in your dissertation,” Akbar said. “Some of your conclusions would have required a deep understanding of how the rabies and related viruses are transmitted. Some are transmitted more easily than others.”

  He’d read her dissertation. That was unfortunate. She couldn’t hide what she knew and didn’t know. What she didn’t know was how to change a rabies virus’s mode of transmission. It wasn’t something she’d even thought of at the time.

  “That’s true, but I don’t know how to change the ease of transmission for rabies. It doesn’t survive well outside the body.” She glanced at the hospital. “Humans die from it, they can’t carry it like some bats or foxes can. It’s just not a good candidate for causing a pandemic.” What she couldn’t understand was why he’d chosen it in the first place. There was a legion of more easily transmitted deadly diseases. “Why rabies?”

  “Death is painful, for both infected and non-infected,” he said like he was some kind of emotional vampire, excited at the prospect of feeding off other people’s pain. Then he looked at her again and said, “You will work on the problem or you will die.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? My little lab is great for diagnostic work, but not research. Not for what you want me to do.” It would also take time. Time this nut bar didn’t have. If she and Connor didn’t report in, Max would know there was something wrong and investigate.

  “Don’t worry, Dr. Perry, I have additional equipment waiting for you at another location. As soon as my transportation gets here, we’ll be leaving, but you can start now.” He strode closer and she shrank away. “You’re smart for a woman. Figure it out, make progress, or I will kill one of them right now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “How do I know you haven’t killed them already?” Sophia asked. There was no trusting a man whose only goal was death on a mass scale.

  Akbar glanced at Len. “Show her.”

  The mercenary grabbed her by the arm and hauled her into the refugee camp.

  At this rate, she was going to have bruises on her arm for the rest of her life. That struck her as so ironic, she laughed.

  “What’s so fucking funny, sweetheart?”

  “You’re gonna die, asshole, and I think that’s hilarious.”

  “You should be a little nicer to me,” he said in her ear. “I’m the only thing standing between you and all these sick, hungry, desperate people.”

  “Well, aren’t you Mr. Goo
d News today.”

  The idiot thought that was funny.

  They passed down a narrow walkway between makeshift tents and shanty-type dwellings until they arrived at a ruined collection of buildings made of rock and clay.

  People drew back from Len like he was the carrier of a deadly disease.

  So, he was known to the populace. That meant he’d been working for Akbar for a while, maybe even the entire length of time he’d been here. Perhaps he’d used Dr. Blairmore and his aid group as a cover.

  “You do know that as soon as your usefulness ends,” she said to Len, “he’s going to kill you.”

  “Only if I don’t kill him first.”

  Wonderful, she was dealing with two sociopaths instead of one.

  He dragged her past two men holding Russian-made rifles into a stone-walled room with a roof made of rotting wood. Four vaguely human shapes huddled against the far wall, either lying on the sand or sitting up at awkward angles.

  She recognized two of them immediately. Connor and Smoke.

  She surged forward, but Len yanked her back.

  “Connor? Smoke? Are you all right?”

  “You touch her, you motherfucker, and I’ll make you hurt for a very long time,” Connor said in a voice so broken and ragged it was barely discernible as his.

  Len leaned close to Sophia’s ear and said, “He’s got a thing for you.”

  She ignored him, her focus on Connor. The shadows created by the uneven roof made it hard to see. “Are you injured?”

  “We all are,” he said.

  Only Smoke moved. Were the other two so badly injured that they were unconscious or unable to move? Panic welled up, unfamiliar and uncomfortable. She shoved it down with cold logic. She couldn’t help them if she had a meltdown.

  “Details,” she ordered.

  “Does she give the orders in bed too, Button?”

  “I wouldn’t know, asshole.” Connor’s laugh was full of pain. “Stab wound to my left thigh and possibly a couple of cracked ribs. Smoke took a John Wayne shot to the shoulder. River caught a bullet with his arm and kept fighting. Len kicked him in the head and he’s been down ever since. Stalls got stabbed too, but he lost consciousness a little while ago.”