Eden's Exodus (Plague Wars Series Book 3)

by David VanDyke

  “Again, why?” asked Enrique.

  “Because the Free Communities and the United States are not the best of friends right now,” said Spooky. “Your product will hopefully help keep the norteamericanos preoccupied with other things besides hunting down and killing Edens. That will mean shipping the product to Unionist controlled areas, and avoiding non-Unionist areas. I want their hands full with their own problems, and to discredit them if possible.”

  Enrique mused for a few minutes, before eventually nodding sharply. “I like what you’re laying down. I think we might be able to do business. But you mentioned two reasons I would cut a deal. Is there another one?”

  “Oh yes, I almost forgot.” Spooky waved toward one of his aides, who brought a laptop and a tiny table to set in front of Enrique. He then hit a button and walked away.

  Enrique’s eyes widened as a video ran, tinny sounds proceeding from the speaker.

  “I trust you recognize your man?” said Spooky.

  “Razor,” said Enrique through clenched teeth. The video looped at the point where the hammer was pounding the nail into the wood and the man on the video screamed.

  “That was filmed right here,” said Spooky conversationally. “As a matter of fact, I think that’s the same chair.” He leaned forward and stared down at the wood below Mendoles’ crotch. “Yes, that’s it. See the base of the nail and the blood?”

  “You sick bastards,” whispered Enrique.

  “Oh, come now,” said Spooky. “We both know that you have had your people do much worse to people far more innocent. This man was evil, a serial torturer and murderer. If you will simply look at this objectively, you will notice the sheer artistry of our methods. We obtained the identity of your insider without even having to kill him or harm his sister.”

  “Would you have?” asked Enrique with what seemed, to Spooky, manufactured anger. “As an Eden, could you have?”

  Spooky’s mouth twitched. “I can do what needs to be done, or find someone else to do it for me. Now, I need to hear you say you will do as I tell you.”

  “How am I supposed to sell this to my people? They won’t look favorably on working for a bunch of Edens.”

  “Then don’t think of it that way,” said Spooky, spreading his hands. “Tell them you negotiated a deal that gets the Colombian government off your back and opens new distribution channels in the U.S. All you had to give up is your attacks on FC personnel and selling locally. Your people will see that as a win.”

  Enrique mimed mulling this over for a few seconds, but Spooky could see the man had already decided to agree. “I think that will work. It’s not like I really have a choice anyway, is it?”

  “Oh, you always have a choice,” said Spooky. “There’s always the hard road.”

  “What makes you think I won’t simply go back on my deal? You know, once I’m safe again and out of your clutches.”

  “Only this,” said Spooky. He pulled a small pistol from a shoulder holster inside his jacket and shot the man in the thigh.

  Enrique screamed. “What the hell was that for? I thought we had an agreement.”

  “We do,” said Spooky, “Let’s just call it insurance. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. More than fine, in fact.” He checked his watch. “Give it ten minutes.”

  Once that time had passed, Enrique stared at his leg in amazement. The wound had already begun to heal, and the ceramic fragments were being pushed out of the skin to drop onto the floor.

  “It’s something new we developed,” said Spooky. “Nonlethal rounds that also infect the target with the Eden virus.”

  “The Eden virus?” said Enrique, stunned. “You didn’t!”

  “Oh, yes. I did.”

  “You bastard.”

  “Why does everyone want to question my parentage?” said Spooky. “But you might want to keep this a little secret between us. I understand in the criminal underworld, being an Eden might ruin your street cred as a cold-blooded murderous thug. All you have to do is keep acting scary and barbaric. That shouldn’t be so hard.”

  Enrique hung his head and uttered a string of gutter curses.

  “Don’t look so melancholy,” said Spooky. “You entered thinking you were going to be tortured to death and you leave with a deal to assure the stability of your business…and immortality as well.”

  “If we’re done, can I go now?”

  “Certainly,” said Spooky, turning to his henchmen. “Let’s cut our new partner loose.”

  Two came forward and sliced through the duct tape and flex cuffs.

  “And get him some new pants,” said Spooky. “All that blood and the hole might be hard to explain without the wound. I think we have some that color in the back. What are you, a forty-five, forty-six?”

  “Forty-four,” said Enrique sulkily.

  “Well, you’ll be down a few belt sizes soon enough, Gordo. One of the benefits of the virus. Better start exercising or eating less in public so you don’t draw suspicion.”

  “Just let me out of here,” said Enrique, taking the trousers he’d been brought and pulling them on.

  Spooky ordered, “Drop him off somewhere downtown with his cell phone so he can call his people. Make sure no one messes with him until he’s picked up.”

  Enrique had begun walking toward the back of the building between his two guards when Spooky stopped him with his voice. “Mendoles. Remember none of this was personal. Don’t make the mistake of making it so, because nothing you do can protect you from me if I want to reach out and touch you again. It’s all business, my new friend. Do your part, and everything works.”

  Enrique started to speak, but then shut his mouth, turning to resume his exit.

  Chapter 18

  Cassandra sat in front of her laptop and checked the clock again. It was almost time for her teleconference with Markis and Spooky, and she had begun to feel the passage of every second as a blow against the trapped Edens.

  Numerous emails had flown back and forth, but she needed to speak to Markis to get his final agreement. She also wanted Spooky online so he couldn’t deny receiving his instructions or claim he misunderstood. If he had objections, she intended to make him state them up front and deal with them.

  Cassandra noticed Markis log on, and a few seconds later, the video came through. Markis and Spooky sat side by side in the Chairman’s office.

  “Good to see you, Cassandra,” said Markis.

  “You too, DJ,” said Cassandra. “How is everything? You look tired.”

  “I am tired, but that comes with the job, so nothing to be done about it.”

  “Hello, Tran,” said Cassandra.

  “Good to see you,” answered Spooky with what seemed to her a false camaraderie. “Daniel has passed on reports about the situation. I am intrigued by the offers from Prince Richard.”

  “I hope that word has gone no further. I promised only to tell Markis.”

  “I do understand OPSEC, you know.”

  “Yes,” said Markis, cutting off an argument. “Cassandra, why don’t you lay it out for me and tell me what you think. You’ve been heavily involved in this situation since Husnia first established contact, and in many ways I look at this as your baby.”

  That’s a good sign, Cassandra thought, and believed she detected the barest hint of a frown from Spooky. “As of now, Denham is still on his way. I believe there’s a very high degree of likelihood that he will succeed at making it to the Edens.”

  “Do you agree?” Markis asked Spooky.

  Spooky nodded. “Skull is a hard man to stop when he gets the bit in his teeth.”

  “The Edens at Cumba are still holding out,” continued Cassandra. “As far as we can tell the Ethiopians have been content to keep them confined and wait.”

  “Probably intending to starve them out,” said Spooky.

  “How much food do they have?” asked Markis.

  “A few weeks at most,” replied Cassandra, “and they’re already cutting their rations, but
I don’t think the Ethiopians are going to wait that long.”

  “Why is that?” asked Markis.

  Cassandra ran her hand through her hair. “We’ve gotten indications that they’re getting reinforcements and obviously preparing. Orders were issued from Prime Minister Tongali shortly after the Caliphate Ambassador visited. Al-Raziq appeared to leave happy, and we know how they feel about the Edens.”

  “Did you get a copy of the orders?” asked Spooky.

  “We’re still working on that, but I think we can say they’re going to force the military to deal with the Edens.”

  Markis frowned. “And the Ethiopians still haven’t responded to our repeated diplomatic overtures to discuss things. Any luck with your back-channels?”

  “No,” said Cassandra. “Our sources tell us they are very concerned about offending the Caliphate, which is only looking for a pretext to invade Ethiopia. Tongali has to comply if he wants to keep his country out of their clutches for a while longer.”

  “So what you are saying is that we’re running out of time,” said Markis.

  “Exactly.”

  Spooky spoke. “All of this is for nothing if they have nowhere to go. If Kenya is not willing to receive them, we are risking our people for no reason. We may even be endangering the very Edens we are trying to help.”

  “Prince Richard has agreed to use his influence with the Kenyans,” said Cassandra.

  “Has he been successful?” asked Spooky.

  “Not yet, but I hope to have an update on that soon. I believe we have to proceed under the presumption that he will be successful.”

  “What I’m getting out of this is that everything rests on Prince Richard’s influence with the Kenyans,” said Markis. “That’s a very shaky foundation on which to mount a rescue mission. Spooky has briefed me on how risky this operation was even before things started to go badly. Are we sure we want to go forward?”

  “I understand,” said Cassandra, “but what we don’t want to do is pull the plug too early. What does it hurt to keep our man in play and go ahead and send in the team?”

  “They’re not ready yet,” said Spooky. “They need more time for training.”

  “Sending them in any later risks complete failure,” said Cassandra. “Just get them to Kenya. They can train and prep some more there. At least they’ll be close.”

  “Just get them to Kenya?” said Spooky. “How? We were counting on the Israelis to work that out for us. Odds are they have tipped the Kenyans off. They could get rolled up the minute we set down.”

  Cassandra chuckled. “This is what you do, right, Spooky? Covert ops? And isn’t this what your team was designed for? If we’re not going to use them to save several thousand innocent Edens when we have the chance then what the hell are they good for?”

  Spooky frowned, apparently knowing full well she was trying to box him in with Markis. “Perhaps we should wait on the final word from Prince Richard regarding the Kenyans.”

  “If we wait,” said Cassandra, “it could be too late. Those Edens are our people. Getting them out will prove the FC means what it says. It could be a huge symbolic victory that will bring people over to our side.”

  A sneer leaked through Spooky’s mask of friendliness. “I think you need to be a little more objective about this. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

  “What about Denham?” asked Cassandra. “Even if the mission is a no-go, don’t you need the extraction team on the ground to get him out anyway?”

  “Skull is capable of getting himself out of trouble. Besides, it makes no sense to endanger twelve lives to save one.”

  “But you just said it makes no sense to endanger twelve lives to save ten thousand. You seem to be arguing both sides of the question.”

  “It is not that simple,” said Spooky. “There’s a lot to consider.”

  “You’re stalling, Spooky, and I’m wondering why. What’s your hidden agenda here?”

  Spooky spread his hands. “Only the good of the FC.”

  “Sure doesn’t seem that way. When did you get timid, anyway?”

  Spooky clearly understood that she was trying to bait him into saying something damaging, for he simply shrugged and smiled.

  Markis held up a hand. “Let’s take it easy now. We’re all on the same team.”

  “Yes, but apparently we’re not all trying to get to the same goal line,” Cassandra replied.

  “If we are going to use sports analogies,” said Spooky, leaning forward, “we must first clarify what sport we’re playing. Is this a race or a ball game?”

  “Both of you quit bickering like a couple of children,” Markis said. “If we had known from the beginning that the Israelis were not going to support us, would we have agreed to go forward with the mission?”

  “Absolutely not,” said Spooky. “We pull the plug. It’s not personal. It’s a bad mission.”

  Markis nodded and started to speak, but Cassandra cut him off.

  “Daniel,” she said. “I’ve read those messages you sent to Husnia. Whether you want to admit it or not, you made her a promise. She certainly used that promise to encourage her people to run. You gave your word to nearly ten thousand men, women, and children that we are coming to help them.”

  “I never promised anything more than our best efforts,” Markis said.

  “Bullshit,” said Cassandra. “Leave that politician crap for your summit meetings. I need to have a conversation with the Daniel Markis I used to know, the one everyone believes in. The one who could and did make hard decisions.”

  “I am making a hard decision, Cass. That’s why I’m letting you argue your side.”

  Cassandra sighed. “What are all those overtures on our website for anyway? We tell people to hold on and reach out to us and not to persecute Edens. We tell them to believe, and guess what? Those in Cumba did. And now we’re going to turn our backs on them?”

  “This is my people we’re talking about putting at risk,” said Spooky to Markis.

  “You haven’t told me who’s on the team,” said Cassandra, “but I would bet money if you told them the mission, all of them would volunteer. Aren’t they all Edens?”

  “Yes. The are now.”

  “Then it should be fairly easy for them to see the right choice here. They would refuse to abandon these people. Frankly, I’m starting to have some serious concerns about why everyone can’t see that.”

  “That’s enough,” said Markis. “I’ve let you have your say and you’ve said it.”

  Cassandra bit her tongue and nodded.

  Markis turned to Spooky. “Can we get the team to Kenya?”

  “Sure,” said Spooky, “but you’re not going to like how it gets done.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it will involve the drug cartels.”

  Markis shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  “DJ,” said Spooky, “if you tell me to go suck eggs, you don’t get to tell me how to suck them. It’s my job to get my hands dirty on your behalf. If you want the job done, this is the way to do it.”

  Markis stared past the camera for a long moment, thinking. “Fine. That’s the least of all the evils. Ten thousand lives and our word, against more stains on our souls.”

  “Does this mean we’re a go?” asked Cassandra.

  “Yes,” said Markis giving Spooky a hard look. “The mission is on...for now. If Prince Richard doesn’t come through, we scrub and back out. That’s the best deal you’re going to get, Cassandra. Are we agreed?”

  Cassandra nodded. “Yes.”

  “Of course, Chairman,” said Spooky, his eyes glittering.

  “I’m afraid I have to go,” said Markis, looking at his watch. “Late for another meeting. You two keep me posted. Good luck, Cassandra.”

  “You too,” said Cassandra but the line had already disconnected.

  She closed the laptop and clasped her hands together in front of her to stop them from trembling with anger. Damn S
pooky. Obviously he had some agenda, even if it was only that he didn’t want to risk his precious covert ops team…but the whole point of forming that unit had been to try to get the Edens out.

  Why create something so specialized and then not use it?

  * * *

  Cassandra and Geoffrey got off the QM2 at Southampton and boarded a private jet for Nairobi, Kenya.

  “You look stressed,” Geoffrey said to her.

  “I am. Have you heard anything about Prince Richard’s efforts with the Kenyans?”

  “Nothing yet,” said Geoffrey as he sipped a glass of Scotch. “Don’t worry. He said he would talk to them so he’ll talk to them.”

  “There is a lot riding on that talk. I sometimes get the impression that you are taking all of this a little too flippantly.”

  “Cassandra, I know very well what is at stake but learned long ago that you cannot let yourself get too close to things. Otherwise, you’ll break.”

  Cassandra stared at him until he had given her his full attention. “In my experience the only place to see things clearly is close to them. Detachment is often an excuse to abdicate moral responsibility and a convenient shelter to hide cowardice.”

  “Is that supposed to be directed at me?”

  “If the shoe fits. Do you mind if I plug my laptop in and send a few messages? I presume you have a secure link on this plane.”

  “Of course,” he said. “It’s in the back.”

  “Thank you,” she said, getting up and retrieving her bag. In the rear of the plane, she hooked into their secure data stream after placing an FC security dongle between them. Cassandra didn’t think the Brits would try to download the contents of her laptop or install a backdoor, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Then she carefully composed a message to her deputy back in Colombia. She ordered him to give every bit of intelligence support he could to the trapped Edens. To hold nothing back, even if they didn’t have a secure link in Ethiopia.

  After sending the email, she closed her laptop. As she turned, she caught Geoffrey staring at her.

  Cassandra could have sworn he looked sad.