Extinction War

by Nicholas Smith

  “Can’t you just drop a bomb on the Colosseum? A bunker buster or something?” Piero asked.

  “We need to figure out what we’re dealing with first,” Piazza said. “We’ve already depleted most of our arsenal, and we’re running out of fuel for our birds.”

  There was a short pause on the other end, and then: “I know what I’m asking you to do isn’t going to be easy, but we need you, Sergeant.”

  “Roger that, sir. You can count on us,” Piero replied.

  “Us?” Piazza said.

  Piero hesitated and looked down at his only friend left in the world.

  “I have a … a mouse with me. He’s become a friend of sorts. Keeps me company.”

  He knew how crazy it sounded, and he expected Piazza to either laugh or tell him he was a madman. But instead, the lieutenant general simply said, “I don’t care if you have a goddamn unicorn with you. Once this is over, I’m going to make sure you’re both rewarded. Good luck. Over.”

  Piero slipped the radio back in his pouch and stroked Ringo’s back with his finger, smiling for the first time since he had seen the EUF fighter jet days earlier. If the mouse could have smiled, he probably would have too. The furry little creature seemed to be in heaven just eating the granola bar.

  “Maybe this time I should go on my own,” Piero whispered. His mood suddenly changed, depression setting in. That got Ringo’s attention. The mouse looked up with beady black eyes and nuzzled Piero’s hand. Leaving the hunk of granola on the ground, Ringo ran up his arm and jumped onto his shoulder.

  He grabbed his rifle, checked the magazine, and then slung his rucksack over his shoulder.

  “Okay then, my little friend, if you don’t want to stay here, let’s go meet this Queen.”

  Kate cupped her hands over the radio headset and listened to the message again. It was just as unbelievable the second time. She sat in an uncomfortable metal chair outside the clean room set up inside the belly of the Thalassa.

  “Reports detailing colonies of mutated Variants are all pointing at there being some sort of Queen controlling their activity. If these things are real, they are very elusive. The EUF is currently in the process of sending teams out for verification.”

  If only Pat could have been here to listen to this, she mused.

  Her old partner had been fascinated with the metamorphosis of the Variants in Europe. Dr. Ellis had come up with his own theories on why the juveniles were mutating, but none of them had included a Queen or the colony behavior described by the European reports.

  It still hadn’t quite sunk in that Ellis was gone. She had grown so used to bouncing all her ideas off him; Dr. Orlov and Dr. Bruno were no doubt brilliant in their own ways, but it just wasn’t the same.

  Picking up a set of handwritten notes, Kate continued reading over Dr. Bruno’s documentation of their work. Somewhere above her, Horn and his men were eating breakfast. After talking with Admiral Lemke about the conditions on the Thalassa, Horn’s team had been ordered to stay on the ship to protect Kate for the time being, an order that didn’t sit well with the European researchers.

  “That Italian lady gives me the creeps,” Horn had said to Kate earlier that morning.

  She agreed. Kate felt safer with Horn here, especially after their first conversation with Dr. Bruno and Dr. Orlov.

  Kate continued reading over the documentation. Ten test subjects had perished from the hemorrhage virus over the past seven months, their bodies dumped into the sea. Each of them had been first injected with the hemorrhage virus and was then given an experimental cure for the virus. It had cured the Ebola symptoms in more than half of them, but not the transformations brought on by the VX-99 nanoparticles.

  The transformations had continued in the other subjects, and each subject had been thrown into the sea, alive. It wasn’t exactly murder, since they had agreed to being infected, but it still seemed …

  Kate shuddered at the thought of what had taken place in this lab, but in the end, these scientists had given their lives to find a cure—something that her mentor, Doctor Michael Allen, had done during the first days of the outbreak, when he too had been infected. It was her job to help finish the work Allen and Ellis had helped her start.

  After reading over the last of the pages, she looked up to watch Bruno and Orlov working inside the clean lab. They wore bulky white CBRN suits with battery-operated air-filtration units, but the clean lab was far from being up to the standard of the one Kate was used to working in. It simply wasn’t possible to put something of the caliber of her old BSL4 lab on a ship.

  The scientists had done a great job of securing the equipment to the floor, and they had taken extra steps to ensure sensitive samples weren’t contaminated or broken if the ship hit stormy waters. They had a second air-filtration system, but they would have needed more fail-safe systems and a hundred other security measures to meet BSL4 standards.

  Kate stood and walked over to the comm-link button. “Doctor Bruno, I’ve read through your lab notes and have some ideas about VX-99, but first, how about you explain to me where you’re at in the process?”

  Bruno looked up from her lab station. “As you know from those reports, the experimental cure for the Ebola virus works eighty percent of the time, which just leaves us with the problem of halting or even reversing VX-99’s effects. Doctor Orlov has been focusing on that part.”

  Orlov finished with the pipette he was using and then secured his sample and stepped away from the lab station.

  “In short, I used ultra-high-performance liquid chromatography to separate and identify the chemical compounds in VX-99,” Orlov said. He used his gloved hands to gesture wildly as he spoke, kind of the way Ellis had done when he was excited. “That was a difficult and time-consuming project, but I was finally able to complete the separation just this morning. What I’m working on now is creating an antibody to target each of the VX-99 nanoparticles, just like you used when you were developing Kryptonite.”

  “Interesting,” Kate said, her mind already racing with possibilities.

  “That’s where I’m stuck, however, as once the VX-99 particles mature, there seems to be a point of no return. When we talk about a cure, we’re talking about one that can be used to stop and reverse only the beginning stages of infection.”

  “What’s the point of no return?” Kate asked. Her thoughts were on Beckham, but she buried the worries and focused on the work ahead.

  “We don’t know that yet,” Orlov said.

  “Perhaps explaining how Doctor Ellis and I created Kryptonite will help us brainstorm a way to target those VX-99 nanoparticles,” Kate said. Memories washed over her as she recalled her work with Pat. He had been a nerd, and a brilliant one. She wished he were here to help explain.

  “Doctor Ellis and I identified a protein, which we called the Superman protein, attached to oligosaccharide chains on the cell membrane of Variant stem cells. The protein enabled better, quicker interactions with the biochemical cascade associated with wound healing. In short, we created antibodies targeting the Superman protein.”

  “How were the antibodies delivered to the cells?” Orlov asked.

  “Chemotherapeutic drugs,” Kate replied. “We encapsulated them and coated them with these targeting antibodies. These were delivered to the cells responsible for the Variants’ fast healing. The Variant stem cells gobbled up the drugs attached via the targeted protein-antibody interactions and killed themselves.”

  “Genius,” Bruno said.

  Orlov spread his arms, indicating the lab equipment. “We have limited resources here, obviously, but we do have the ability to design our own nanoparticles that can attach to VX-99 within the blood system. That’s where we’re hoping you can help us.”

  “If we can find a way to do that, we’re going to need a facility to produce the nanoparticles and manufacture a supply of the cure,” Bruno said.

  Kate did a quick scan of the computer equipment outside the clean room. “I can help with the
development,” she said. “I’ll get started on some simulations to see which nanoparticles might work best.”

  Footfalls echoed down the ladder behind Kate. Horn made his way into the cluttered room outside the labs.

  “How’s it going down here?” he asked. His rifle was slung over his back, but she knew the other doctors and staff didn’t appreciate the military presence. She pressed the comm-link button and said, “Give us a minute, please.”

  Orlov and Bruno looked at Horn but then went back to work at their stations inside the lab.

  “Have you heard anything about Reed?” Kate asked.

  Horn shook his head. “No news. He’s been evacuated from Outpost Forty-Six and is on his way to the White House PEOC at the Greenbrier.”

  “When are you going to head back to the Abraham Lincoln?”

  “I don’t know. I’m worried about my girls, but I also don’t feel good about leaving you here by yourself.”

  “They’re excellent researchers,” Kate said, not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

  “As long as they don’t try and experiment on you. But if they do …” He hit a fist into his gloved palm.

  Kate didn’t exactly smile, but her lips did turn up at the edges. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  He looked through the plastic wall of the clean room and let out a snort. Kate imagined her friend was feeling much as she was—frustrated and missing his family. At least she felt a bit less alone with him here on the ship.

  “Hey, Horn, can you do me a favor?”

  He pivoted toward her and nodded. “Of course, Kate. What do you need?”

  “If you hear anything else about Reed … if things go badly at Greenbrier …” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought out loud.

  Horn understood what she was asking. “Don’t worry, Doc—if I found out Beckham needed my help, I’d disobey an order from Jesus Christ himself to save his ass.”

  18

  The sun was rising over France by the time Stevenson pulled the MATV onto a dirt road on the south side of the small farm village. The rendezvous point Colonel Bradley had sent them looked as though it was straight out of medieval Europe, with hedges framing the dirt road and wooden shacks built on top of stone foundations.

  Between the woods and the hedges that provided easy hiding spots, this was the perfect place for an ambush. In his mind’s eye, Fitz pictured Nazis attacking Allied troops and tanks during World War II.

  He was honestly surprised they’d made it here without a fight. For the past hour, they had raced down dirt farm roads under the cover of darkness at the vehicle’s max speed of sixty-five, stopping only when they detected a pack of juveniles prowling through the checkered farm fields.

  A Reaver had spotted them an hour earlier, but Fitz took care of the beast with a round from his MK11. Now they were approaching the village of Hardanges, about forty miles west of the national park they had left behind.

  As the warm globe of the sun crested the horizon, the surviving American and EUF forces had started moving across the countryside. Most of the monsters would retreat from the light and return to their lairs, so the soldiers would take advantage of the daylight and trek through the ashes to prepare for war against the Variants.

  In twelve hours or less, there would be all-out war, with almost fifty thousand human soldiers from dozens of countries participating in a final push to clear Europe of the Variants. For the first time since landing in Normandy, Fitz felt some confidence they would succeed. The air force was dropping everything it had left on the tunnels where the monsters had taken up residence.

  By the sound of it, the bombs were falling right now.

  A mushroom cloud rose above the Parc naturel régional du Perche. Alecia caught Fitz’s eye in the mirror.

  “Big bombs,” she said with a smile. “Good.”

  Fitz had never seen or heard children speak of war as the Ombres did. Alecia reminded him of Michel. He shook his head at how fucked up it was for children to have to go through a hell like this. If Beckham and Kate lived long enough to have their child, the kid was going to grow up in a desolate, decaying world where survival would be a constant struggle.

  Rico’s friendly voice prevented him from slipping further into those dark thoughts.

  “I don’t suppose they have many MOABs left,” she said, blowing a bubble that popped on her lips. Alecia watched Rico chew the gum with interest. Fitz reached into his vest and pulled out the half piece that Rico had given him earlier. He handed it back to the girl with a smile, narrowly missing Apollo’s wet muzzle.

  “Should have dropped nukes instead of MOABs,” Stevenson said. “Radiation bombs were supposed to kill those ugly fuckers, and instead it turned ’em into even nastier fuckers. Nukes would have gotten the job done.”

  “Watch your language,” Tanaka said from the back seat.

  Stevenson shrugged off the suggestion.

  “The radiation worked on the juveniles in the States, or did you forget that?” Rico said. “Besides, nukes would kill everything, and the fallout would poison whatever was left. The point of us coming here is to help the survivors of Europe.”

  Stevenson shrugged again. “I don’t see any survivors out here. We should be Stateside, helping our own.”

  Alecia raised a hand before Fitz could respond. “What about me? I survived out here for months with only Maman and my Ombre brothers and sisters.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Stevenson said. He returned his focus to the road. Fitz smiled at the girl and then shot a sidelong glance at Stevenson that told him to keep his trap shut.

  Tensions were high, and everyone was exhausted, even Team Ghost’s four-legged friend. Apollo rested his head on his paws and let out a sigh. The thump and roar of the bombs continued behind them, the drumbeat of war.

  “You hear that?” Fitz asked. No one answered the rhetorical question. “The real battle hasn’t even started yet. Once we link up with the EUF mechanized unit and the Twenty-Fourth MEU, we’re going to head out to join the main forces on a march to Paris. The worst Europe has to offer is standing, or slithering, inside the capital. We need to be prepared.”

  Another mushroom cloud rose into the air behind them, and the MATV vibrated from the shock wave.

  “Wow,” Alecia said. “Do you think that one killed all of the monsters?”

  Rico shook her head. “Not all of them, but a lot.”

  Alecia chomped the gum and patted Apollo on his head. She seemed to be enjoying herself, like a kid on a very violent field trip. Fitz was going to see if he could get her evacuated as soon as they met up with the Twenty-Fourth MEU.

  Fitz turned back to the front of the vehicle as the dirt road smoothed out into asphalt. The sun spread a blanket of orange over the village of Hardanges.

  “Looks deserted,” Dohi said.

  The MATV passed the final row of hedges and drove down the narrow road lined by stone walls. Two armored trucks and a pickup bearing the white and blue colors of the EUF were parked at the end of the street, behind a barricade of barbed wire and concrete blocks. An old church rose above the barrier.

  Stevenson drove at a snail’s pace. Brick and stone buildings with moss-covered roofs and white shuttered windows lined the left side of the street; a garden of yellow and brown shrubs lined the right.

  “Park it here,” Fitz said when he noticed smoke fingering away from the rooftops to the east.

  “I hope we’re not too late,” Tanaka whispered from the back.

  Fitz brought his binoculars up and magnified the white pickup truck and the two armored vehicles parked at the roadblock, which were basically retrofitted United Nations vehicles.

  “You see anyone?” Stevenson said quietly.

  Fitz scanned the area and then lowered the binos. “Machine-gun nest and vehicles are empty, and that church is all boarded up. No sign of hostiles.”

  He directed Stevenson to keep driving. The MATV crawled down the street, passing a boarded-u
p building on the left with a white picket fence out front. On the passenger’s side was a two-story brick structure of newer construction with a minivan parked out front. Judging by the deflated tires and shattered windows, it hadn’t moved in a while.

  About a hundred yards from the church, Fitz instructed Stevenson to stop. They sat in silence, watching the sunrise spread over the damp rooftops. A bird cawed in the distance, and Fitz slowly reached for the rifle that was propped up against the side of his seat. They were protected by several inches of armor, but he still felt exposed on the road.

  Rico pumped a shell into her shotgun, breaking the silence. Something was off, and the other members of Team Ghost could sense trouble. It wasn’t just the smoke and deserted streets.

  Fitz picked up the radio and brought it to his mouth. “Lion One, Lion One, this is Ghost One. We’ve arrived at the rendezvous. Place looks deserted. Please advise. Over.”

  Static crackled from the speakers.

  Fitz waited for several minutes before trying again. More white noise fluttered from the radio on each attempt.

  “Shit,” he mumbled.

  “Want me to keep driving?” Stevenson asked.

  “No,” Rico said. “This road is far too narrow. We won’t be able to turn around if it’s a trap. Let me check it out on foot.”

  “Absolutely not,” Fitz said.

  “I’ll go with her,” Tanaka said.

  “Me too,” Dohi added.

  Apollo sat on his hind legs, looking to Fitz for orders.

  Fitz sighed. It was either wait here or let them check out the area, but this time he couldn’t go out there with his team.

  “We’ll be careful,” Rico said.

  Dipping his helmet, Fitz reluctantly gave the order after another scan of the street. With Bradley not answering and no sign of the EUF, Team Ghost had to do something.

  The three soldiers got out of the vehicle and walked around the front of the MATV. Apollo took point, with Dohi and Tanaka fanning out at combat intervals. Rico walked at the rear, her sawed-off shotgun at the ready and her M4 slung over a shoulder.