The Aegis Solution

by John David Krygelski

  From their vantage point, Elias, Tillie, and Leah saw more of Faulk's men, who were wounded and stunned from the grenade, run, stagger, or fall into their view. They took advantage of the shooting-gallery situation to finish them off as they appeared. It was clear that there was gunfire coming from the right of the hallway where Faulk, Boehn, and his agents were sequestered, as they attempted to react to the new direction of the fight.

  The rapid and deafening battle was short-lived, as Elias heard the unmistakable voice of Faulk shouting from around the corner. "DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT!"

  Elias stood quickly, followed by Tillie and Leah, and they trotted to the end of the hallway, an intersection which had become a killing ground, with Faulk's team as the victims. Elias peered carefully around the corner, not completely sure that their savior or saviors would not be equally disposed to shoot him. All of the black-garbed agents were dead or dying, including the wounded men from the earlier firefight and Killeen who had all been handcuffed in the open. Boehn lay against a wall, bloody and looking as if he had been tossed there by an angry giant. Faulk stood in the center of the corridor, raising his hands, and staring past Elias.

  Elias switched his gaze to the right. It took him a minute to identify the two men walking toward him with huge grins plastered across their faces.

  "Sweezea…Crabill!"

  "Hello, Doc," said Sweezea casually, his assault rifle perched jauntily on his shoulder. "How's that AK-47 workin' for ya?"

  Tillie, hearing the names, ran around Elias. "Tim…Jay!" She ran straight up to Sweezea and threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him down.

  Leah had moved into the intersection, pointed her rifle at Faulk, and barked harshly, "Get down, you bastard! Facedown!"

  Faulk did not hesitate, dropping to the floor in a prone position, his hands immediately laced behind his neck.

  She turned and looked at her husband, jerking her head in the direction of the two men who had saved their lives, as they reached the group. "More friends of yours?"

  Elias laughed, realizing that only a few moments ago, he had never dreamed he would have that pleasure again. "Yes, they are. And apparently Tillie's, too."

  Crabill was standing back and grinning at Tillie, when he noticed the blood from the shrapnel injury. "Mathilda, you're hurt!"

  She glanced down at the blood. "No shit, Sherlock!"

  He pulled his pack off his back and quickly removed the first-aid gear. "Come here. Let me take care of that."

  "It's not bad. Take care of her first."

  He looked at Leah and saw the hastily applied bandage on her shoulder and the still-flowing blood coming from beneath it, and trotted to her.

  Elias stepped nearer and took over the job of watching Faulk. Looking down at him, he snarled, "Got a good reason I shouldn't just pop your skull with my boot right now?"

  His voice muffled from being facedown on the floor, Faulk said, "I do. The vaccine. Even though you've won today, without it you die. All of you die."

  "Yeah? How soon?"

  "The release is scheduled for midnight tonight."

  "Where? Spreading something like that takes multiple locations."

  "Not this bug. One will do. But we are releasing it at one location for each continent. A total of seven spots."

  "How fast, Faulk?"

  "According to the computer models, three days…four tops."

  Elias was stunned and sickened by what he was hearing. Forcing his voice to be calm, he asked, "What's the survivability rate? All viruses have one."

  "It isn't a virus. It's an engineered mycoplasma in a cocktail. It attacks several bodily systems. Shuts them all down. Creates massive hemorrhaging. Survivability is zero."

  "Transmitted?"

  "It isn't only transmitted in the air, it actually lives and thrives in it. It multiplies as it spreads. That's what makes it so effective."

  "What kills it?"

  Faulk's tone, as he adjusted to the pattern of questions and answers from Elias, was becoming more and more conversational. "The usual. Extreme heat and cold. UV rays."

  "Don't the UV rays from the sunlight scrub it out of the atmosphere?"

  "It ebbs and flows. Sunlight kills it off when it is free-floating in the atmosphere. That's why we are doing a night release. But the bugs which have already moved into the available humans are safe from the UV. Once the pathogen is in a host, it starts replicating itself rapidly; a large enough percentage will be emerging during nighttime to continue the cycle."

  "Your demented group is going to want to emerge from the rat holes you'll be hiding in while the rest of the world dies. And I'm sure you won't want to have all your future generations dependent on the vaccine. How are you going to get rid of it?"

  "The first mechanism is that once there aren't any more hosts...."

  "You mean people."

  "Yes. Once all of the people are gone, the bug has nowhere to invade and multiply. We also built in a second mechanism, a fail-safe. The mycoplasma has been engineered with a preset life span and a preset number of generations it can reproduce. Then it goes sterile."

  During Faulk's answers, Wilson had walked closer to listen. "Why would you do this?"

  Hearing Wilson's voice, Faulk turned his head to the side to look at him. "Why do you think, Chapman? Of all people, you should understand."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The world has already gone to hell. You said so yourself in interviews. I believe your phrase was that the human race was ‘circling the drain.' You must agree that the already bad cultures, societies, and governments in the world have gotten even more vile, despicable, and degenerate in the past one hundred years. And the best are infected and cancer-ridden, merely waiting to die. Isn't that why you came to Aegis?"

  "Sir, you and I may share some concerns about the path mankind has chosen, but I cannot fathom your precipitous course. I find it repugnant."

  "Do you now? And what would you propose? Oh, that's right – running to Aegis and hiding in an overgrown atrium for the rest of your days, leaving behind you a society which might still benefit from your insights. No, I'm afraid, Chapman, that the human race reached a point similar to the Donner party. Either everyone dies a horrible death, or a few survive and can start again."

  "And you've appointed yourself as the selection committee for who lives and who dies?" As Wilson spoke, the rest of the group drifted over to make certain they did not miss the revelations.

  "Actually, no. I was an invitee. The genesis for this plan came from within the halls of power."

  Elias interrupted, "The White House?"

  Faulk sighed, as if he were tired of explaining himself to such dolts. "The White House and the Capitol. It doesn't stop there. France is involved. Germany, Italy, China, and Japan. There are more than forty signatories on the compact."

  "I can't believe this!" Sweezea groaned. "We're all gonna die, but all of the scumbag bureaucrats live to start a new world."

  "Bureaucrats and leaders," responded Faulk, "as well as the top people in commerce and industry. And we are realistic enough to realize that we'll need a military, so some of those who have received the vaccine are the cream of the crop of the armed forces."

  Crabill thumped Sweezea on the arm. "Cream of the crop! That's code for officers only. I'll bet there's not a ‘joe' in the bunch."

  "I'll be a …"

  "Enough of this!" Elias cut Sweezea off. "I think we have the picture. The elites, picked by the elites, got the shot, and the rest of us can all just die. Faulk, where's this vaccine that you're offering to us to save your own skin? I can't believe you carry around a few spare doses of the stuff."

  "I do have it. It's out in the transport."

  "I don't believe you."

  "I do, Elias." Wilson's voice was calm. "With what he is describing as being right around the proverbial corner, I can think of no more valuable currency than several doses of the vaccine. It makes sense that someone like Faulk would make sure he
had a good supply. From now until midnight, and probably in the few succeeding hours after the release, they would be worth far more than their weight in gold."

  Elias paused. What Wilson said made sense. And if they had a chance of surviving, they had to take it. He looked at Leah. "What do you think?"

  She had been listening quietly, as Crabill finished dressing her wound. "Worth a try."

  Elias poked Faulk with the barrel of the rifle. "Get up. Let's go."

  Faulk started to rise, when a voice shouted, "NO!"

  Everyone whirled around to see Rudy Kreitzmann leaning against the shattered corner and holding Elias' 9mm.

  Wilson faced him squarely. "Rudy, what are you doing?"

  His eyes still clouded, his words slurred, Kreitzmann stammered, "You…you can't let him get…get away."

  Wilson took a step closer. "We're not, Rudy. We're going to escort him outside, to his truck. We need the vaccines he has there."

  The scientist was obviously not thinking clearly. All he knew was that the man getting up from the floor was the same man who had used him as a patsy, infiltrated his staff, and exploited his subjects. His hand shaking, he raised the pistol and aimed it at Faulk.

  Then Wilson, surprising everyone, stepped in front of him and grabbed the pistol, looking Kreitzmann in the eyes. "Rudy, this isn't you. You are a scientist, not a killer."

  Kreitzmann, still feebly gripping the butt of the Beretta, stared at his colleague, his eyes clearing somewhat. The barrel was pointing directly at Wilson's abdomen, and Elias tensed, waiting for the sound of a gunshot. With a final, regretful glance at Faulk, Kreitzmann said, "You're right," and released his grip on the weapon. Wilson, without turning away from him, reached behind himself and handed the gun to Elias.

  For the first time they noticed that Kreitzmann was bleeding from his side.

  "He must have caught a shot out in the hallway," Elias shouted. "He needs some help."

  "Guess I'm the medic today," Crabill remarked sardonically and, with his first-aid gear tucked under his arm, walked Kreitzmann off to the side, slowly lowering him down to a lying position.

  They all heard the rapid approach of footsteps, and everyone but Leah, who was focused on Faulk, and Wilson, who was unarmed, spun in the direction, guns pointed down the hallway as a man came around the corner at a full run.

  "Don't shoot," Sweezea barked. "He's one of mine."

  They all lowered their weapons as the man approached.

  "Hutson, what'd you find?"

  "You were right, Sergeant. The entrance is trash. Completely demolished."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sheldon Kennerley was pacing in front of the glass wall of the exposure tank, shouting into his phone, when Bonnie Schwartz hurriedly entered the room. It was clear by her expression that she wanted to talk to him and that it was urgent. Covering the mouthpiece with his hand, he asked, "What is it?"

  Intimidated by his tone, she stuttered, "It's…it's the TV. You'd better come…you need to come see this."

  He was tempted to ask her to simply tell him what was wrong, but something about the look on her face made him realize that he needed to follow her. "I'll call you back! Round up the subjects and get them here now!"

  Without a word to Bonnie, he rushed past her to the outer lobby where there was a television. As he arrived, he could see that several of the staff were crowded around the set, watching silently. On the screen was a very still tableau. It was of the front yard of a house he did not recognize. There were numerous police cars and ambulances parked haphazardly on the street and in the yard but, other than the flashing lights, there was no movement. He began to ask what was wrong, then thought better of it and listened to the commentary coming out of the speakers.

  "At this point we have very few details. We can tell you that the police and fire departments have cordoned off the area in a ten-block radius. From one source, we learned that the Center for Disease Control has been notified, and all citizens are strongly urged to avoid this section of the city.

  "To recap what we know so far, at approximately 9:30 this morning, a man who lives on this same block, concerned about his neighbor, called 9-1-1. Police and an ambulance arrived within minutes and, after receiving no response at the door, the officers looked through a window and observed the resident lying, apparently unconscious, on the floor. They broke down the front door and entered.

  "That is where the details become somewhat sketchy. According to a police information officer, one of the paramedics made a distress call, asking for additional medical support. The call was abruptly ended before the dispatcher could get details as to what had happened on the scene.

  "It was at that point the decision was made to dispatch a bio-hazard team. Due to a variety of factors associated with mobilizing one of these specialized units, they did not arrive until more than an hour after the call. By that time, the police and paramedic personnel were seriously ill, with one having died on the scene. The stricken officers and paramedics were transported to a quarantine unit at Georgetown University Hospital. It is my understanding that all of them are now deceased. The entire neighborhood surrounding this house has been quarantined. Walter Reed Hospital has sent its own team to assist. All adjacent residents have been evacuated to a sequestered area for monitoring and possible treatment, if needed."

  Kennerley stared at the screen, unable to form any words. Bonnie, standing next to him, turned and said, "That house…that's Yolanda's."

  

  Sweezea, Hutson, Crabill, Tillie, Elias, and Wilson, working with tools from the gang box, had been toiling for an hour in an attempt to clear the tangled heap of steel that was blocking the exit door, cutting the struts into small pieces with a reciprocating saw and stacking the sections inside. Faulk was handcuffed to a riser in the corner of the hallway and had been quiet during the work. Twice, they thought they might be making progress, only to have more material crash down to fill the gap they had created.

  Despite the frigid winds penetrating through the obstruction, Elias was soaked with sweat, and his hands and arms were covered with cuts from the sharp edges of the debris. He turned to Tillie. "You told me before that you knew another way out."

  She was carrying an armload of twisted metal, which she dropped on the pile. "I do."

  "Have you ever used it?"

  "No. I've checked it out. But you can't get outside without opening a grate. It has a padlock on it. Should be able to cut the lock with bolt cutters."

  Wilson was walking past them and overheard the direction of the conversation. "How do we know it hasn't been covered with more of this detritus?"

  "We don't, but it's worth a try. Tillie, will you take me there?"

  She nodded.

  Elias whistled to stop Sweezea from operating the loud saw and explained his plan to everyone, which was to split the group in two, leaving some to keep working here in case they ran into the same barrier at the other point of egress. Tillie and Sweezea began filling a pack with a second set of tools, making sure to include a beefy set of bolt cutters, while Crabill rounded up cell phones from Faulk's men and made sure that their phone numbers were programmed into all of the speed dials.

  Elias walked over to Leah. "We need to talk for a minute."

  The two walked away from the rest of the group, making certain that they were well beyond the earshot of Faulk before Elias stopped and turned to his wife. "I haven't asked yet, but I think now's the time. I know that you couldn't possibly have the vaccine on you. They would have found it. But if you have it stashed somewhere, we have a way to communicate now; we can call and tell someone where it is."

  Leah's expression told him the answer. "I stashed it at the camp. Eric and Khalid searched the place thoroughly and didn't find it. I put it in the one spot they never really checked all that much, inside a wall in Khalid's quarters. I never got a chance to go back and get it."

  Her tone fell to a somber note. "I'm sure it was lost in the missile strike."


  Elias was painfully aware that they were running out of both time and options.

  "You stay here with Faulk. Hutson, Crabill, and Wilson will keep hacking away at this mess. Keep Faulk's cell phone handy. I'll take one of the other phones. If we get there and it's wide open, I'll call you. If you break through here, let us know."

  "We've been reunited for less than two hours and you're leaving me?" Leah had an impish smile on her face as she spoke. Elias leaned forward and kissed her.

  "Yep. I've discovered that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

  "Jerk!"

  He turned to Tillie and Sweezea, who were shouldering the load of implements, and said, "Let's go."

  

  "Tillie, I thought you told us that there was no outside drainage for the storm system?" Elias commented as they reached the cavernous basin.

  "I lied. It wasn't actually a lie. I was being very literal. The retention basin does collect all of the storm water. The water does percolate down into the soil at the bottom. But there's an overflow in case the amount of water coming in exceeds the capacity of the basin. It's about ten feet down from the top, and it extends past the perimeter wall of Aegis and dumps into an arroyo about four hundred yards outside the wall."

  They were once again standing at the concrete lip of the basin, staring into the darkness.

  "How do we get down to it?" asked Sweezea.

  "It's on the face of the vertical wall, about fifty feet that way and about ten feet down. The only way to get to it is by rope."

  Sweezea leaned out over the edge and looked in the direction she pointed, shining his light. "Rope's got to be tied to something. Looks like a smooth wall to me."

  "Told you, I went down it before, back when I had nothing but time. Follow me. I'll show you."

  Still wearing her backpack and carrying the shotgun, she casually stepped out onto the lip and walked to the right.

  Sweezea muttered, "She reminds me of the captain I left on the outside," and followed her, walking as surefootedly as a mountain goat on the narrow ledge.