Excluding bathroom breaks, Albert had only left the lab three times. Once to be interrogated and tortured in the locker room, a second time to stretch his legs after complaining about his unjust, perpetual confinement, and three days before when he was brought into the gymnasium and asked to reconfirm everything.
Every waking hour of every day, he was forced, though in part curious, to work on Alex's blood; to study and discover the source of Alex’s immunity and ultimately to create a real vaccine.
"Get up," Fikejs ordered, entering the lab without forewarning.
On his side, Albert had been awake but pretended to be sleeping. "Oh, is it time to go already?”
Fikejs unlocked the handcuffs while Ryan performed a thorough pat down of Albert's person. “Better not try anything.”
“I would never dream of it.”
“Alright, Staff Sergeant, he’s clean.”
Fikejs grabbed Albert under the armpit and said, “Come on, let’s move.”
At the door, Albert looked back and said, "Wait, the samples!"
"What about ‘em?"
"Well, Staff Sergeant, unless you want them contaminated and useless, I need to tend to them."
"Can it wait?"
"Is it a common Marine trait to be that dumb? I defer to my previous statement."
Albert received a smack to the back of the head, courtesy of Ryan.
"You have two minutes."
"Then two minutes it will have to be. I will be sure to work quickly."
"You do that," Fikejs replied with equal sarcasm.
Albert opened a drawer under the sink and pulled out a plastic jug. "Oh Staff Sergeant, I know how much timelines mean to you, but in order for me to quickly and thoroughly complete what I need to get done, I will require more distilled water." He shook the near-empty bottle to corroborate.
"Fine. Ryan, go get some."
"Thank you," Albert smiled, then turned around and sneered.
Fikejs remained behind, watching from the door. He checked his watch and asked, "How close are you?"
Albert opened a battery-powered refrigerator. Inside, he removed trays of Alex's blood. "As I told Sergeant Major West, I will not be able to complete a vaccine here. Without going into the specifics, I am preparing everything I can. I need a professional laboratory and in case you hadn't noticed, high school microscopes, candles instead of Bunsen burners, and plastic test tubes will not suffice,” he said, tossing around the amateur equipment. “Assuming you get back from your suicide mission, I will complete the first trial at a CDC remote facility in Cloverston."
"Aw, bad guy doesn’t think we'll make it back?"
"At the risk of another brute slap to the head, I will keep my answer to myself."
"Staff Sergeant!" came a shout from down the hall.
“What is it, Mason?”
"I need you down here, sir!"
Fikejs looked at Albert and said, "If you try anything, and I mean anything, I will break whichever hand you don’t need."
Looking around, Albert held up his hands and shrugged. "What could I possibly do and where could I possibly go?"
"Coming!" Fikejs yelled back. A moment later, he passed by the last glass windows, out of sight.
“And that’s my cue.”
True, Albert did not have an option to escape; there was only one way in and out of the room. Nor was he able to arm himself. All unnecessary equipment was stripped from the lab. There were no sharp items, no knives, nothing he could use as a weapon, and he knew that Fikejs was good; the Marine would search him upon return.
But neither escape nor attack was the objective behind the surreptitious delay, for sabotage was his plan.
Albert had spent the previous evening assessing his current predicament, and by the time Fikejs arrived, he had formulated a plan. In the unlikely event West’s team accomplished their goal, the only card Albert had left to play was his ability to make a vaccine.
Whether he stalled for too long or ultimately created a vaccine, Albert knew West would never allow him to be set free. So, to buy himself more time, Albert opened the vials of Alex's blood and poured them down the drain, careful not to splash or leave signs of the devious behavior. By the time Fikejs had returned, Albert managed to destroy all but one vial.
“Hey! You done yet?”
Albert placed the empty trays into the refrigerator and replied, "Oh, you are back. I trust everything is okay?"
"Everything is fine," Fikejs replied, despite his facial expression conveying the opposite.
Ryan set the freshly topped jug of distilled water on the counter. "Anything else, princess?”
"No, you are much too kind," Albert said, knowing the Marine’s smile was as fake as his.
"You have-"
"Fifty-three seconds. I know. I have been counting."
Using the distilled water, Albert cleaned three glass slates. Next, he applied Alex's blood each one, followed by droplets of an additional chemical compound, and then inspected the slates through the microscope.
Keeping his eyes on the lenses, Albert said, "As it turns out, the samples are not quite ready for the next step."
"If you're trying something Stone-”
"Would you like to inspect the sample to confirm? No one here is qualified to understand what I am doing. You can beat me if you don't believe me, but that will not change the result and my conclusion that the samples need more time."
Albert faked a sneeze and turned away from the Marines who didn't bother shielding their faces. "Gesundheit," Albert said sarcastically. "God Bless me. Look what I've done. I contaminated the rest of this sample."
Fikejs watched Albert pour the last vial of Alex's blood down the sink. "It's a good thing you have plenty more.”
Facing away from the soldiers, Albert couldn't help but smile. "Yes, it is.”
After another thorough pat down, Albert was led out of the chemistry lab and into the gymnasium where the mission personnel were waiting.
"This is it? This is who is joined your suicide squad?" Albert snickered as he saw the group in its entirety: Fikejs and his twelve Marines, Travis, Steve, Charlie and the only townspeople to volunteer were TJ, Becca and a tough looking local sheriff named Betsy. "Now I definitely feel obligated to say good luck. You're going to need it."
“Shut up,” was the varied but collective reply.
West took the moment to whisper an update into Fikejs' ear. The Marine took the information, frowned, but thanked West with a handshake.
"Now that we’re all here, I wanted to say something,” Fikejs began, “Many of you haven't been to war, and make no mistake this is. You know our mission, you know our goals, and you know what is at stake. We have rehearsed for this, but as prepared as we can be, I cannot promise you a safe return. You know that and I won't lie to you. But what I can promise is that if we stick to the plan and everyone does their part, we will succeed. While most people will never know what you are about to embark on, we will, and I don’t know about you, but that’s all I need. So before we go, I want to thank you all for being a part of this."
"Touching," Albert said under his breath.
"Anything else, Sergeant Major?"
"I think you covered it.”
“Clark?”
The leader of Fullertown stepped forward. “Best of luck to you all. And on behalf of the people in this town, thank you. You are heroes, each and every one of you. Good luck and Godspeed.”
"If everyone's ready, we’re Oscar Mike."
0640 hours
Shanna Finley tossed and turned until the she finally awoke. She looked at the watch resting on the nightstand and panicked.
"You overslept! No, no, no," she repeated to herself, scrambling to get out from under the twisted sheets.
Her position with West hadn't changed. West chose the mission over her. Despite her words the night before, she wanted to give him a proper goodbye; for all she knew this could be the last time she ever saw him alive.
Hal
fway down the staircase, she observed West’s sheets folded and pillow set on top of them. "Please don't be gone already!"
In the kitchen, she found Dylan, sitting by himself, reading a magazine from 2008.
"Have you seen Craig? Did they leave already?"
"Charlie and him left the house about an hour ago. Why? Everything alright?"
Shanna ran out the front door without answering. Her bare feet slid through the moist grass and left imprints on the concrete until she found herself in the middle of the two lane street. She looked down the block at the high school, but there was no sign of the mission personnel or the truck they planned to take.
"No, Craig," she mumbled.
Embarrassed by the passersby, Shanna sauntered back to the house, and collapsed on the front deck. It wasn't so much of a planned motion as she could feel her legs giving out beneath her.
"I'm sorry,” she sobbed, hands covering her face. “Please come back alive, please."
"Come back? I'm still here," came a familiar voice from the curb.
Shanna's eyes darted upward. "Craig?"
West started to limp forward, but Shanna ran over and wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head against his.
"I don’t understand? I thought you left with the team?”
West pulled back and wiped the wetness from under her eyes. "I decided to sit this one out..."
The response and his decision made her smile and cry more.
"They know what they are doing. Besides, with my leg and hand, I'd probably be more in the way."
“I don’t care why, just that you came back to me,” Shanna said, voice slightly stuttering. Instead of waiting for him to make a move, she planted her lips on his and did not stop kissing him for a long while.
The romantic moment finally ended when she opened one eye and noticed townspeople stopping, pointing and staring at them.
"How about some privacy?"
She giggled, embarrassed, but couldn't be happier. “Yes please.”
***
At the kitchen table, West sat with Dylan while Shanna prepared breakfast.
As though it was still a dream, Shanna looked over every few seconds to confirm West’s presence.
"Good morning, everyone," Lisa said, appearing from around the corner. She yawned and let out a full body stretch. Her smile was as bright as Shanna’s.
“Morning, Lisa.”
“Morning.”
"Based on last night, I'm sure it is a good morning," Dylan said last.
West cracked a smile but looked down, opting not to comment.
Lisa blushed.
Shanna tossed a towel over Dylan's shoulder and eyed him contemptuously. "Someone forgot his manners. Ignore him, honey.”
"I didn't mean it like that, eh. Just that...hey I'm all for it...I mean I haven't gotten laid in a long time," Dylan said, struggling for the right words. Then he caught a look from West. "Ya, I'll shut up."
Shanna grabbed Lisa by the hands and led her to the couch. Predominantly using sign language to communicate, she began, "Girl, I need details.”
Lisa pulled a lock of hair behind her ear and blushed again. "I’m not sure I feel comfortable-"
"No, no. I don’t meandetails. I mean the other stuff. How did it happen? Was it romantic? How was it? Those kind of details. Sorry it's just been so long since I've had girl talk."
"It's okay, I understand. Maybe after breakfast?"
"Deal.”
"Hey has anyone seen Alex this morning?" Lisa asked, scanning the downstairs.
While Dylan sipped on coffee, Both West and Shanna replied,
"Not since last night."
"Why?"
Lisa bit her lip. "Me neither. He wasn't there when I woke up. Maybe he's in town?"
Unnoticed by Lisa, Dylan looked down and away, suspiciously pushing something deeper into his pocket.
***
"I'm so sorry, Lis," Alex said, driving away from Fullertown.
Pedal to the floor in Tom Brason's 1955 Thunderbird, Alex was determined to catch up to the others. The clutch was stuck, but Alex freed it and put the beast into third gear.
The exhaust rumbled as he bulleted down the highway. He shifted to fourth gear, eyes oscillating between the road and the retro odometer dial. The needle move past 80 MPH, but he wasn't satisfied; he had twenty minutes to make up.
Alex looked into the side mirror. He didn't expect to see Lisa, but guilt prompted the action. "I'll see you soon, baby. I promise."
Outskirts of the Niagara Falls Visitors Center
December 14, 2009
0856 hours
"We're almost there. Four minutes," Albert said, leading the guerrillas.
Fikejs had the butt pad of an M16 pressed tightly into his shoulder and the barrel pointed on Albert’s back. "Let's hope so."
Behind Fikejs, the others kept pace, crouching low while moving behind dozens of abandoned cars in the Niagara Falls Sightseeing Tours parking lot.
“Still fucked that West isn’t coming,” grumbled Mason.
Ryan, too, vented his bitter thoughts. “I’m with ya, Mas. I mean who preaches our need to do this, sets up the mission, then bails morning of? Fucking cow-”
“Hey,” Steve interrupted. Despite the low volume, his voice carried a powerful tone behind it. “If you want your nose more broken than it already is, feel free to finish that word. Otherwise, shut the fuck up. You don’t know the first thing about West. He is the furthest thing from a coward.”
“The man served his country proud and put his life on the line more times than me, Steve and all of you combined,” followed Travis.
“Whatever. Like Mason said, it’s pretty fucked up.”
“Noted, Corporal. Now keep your comments internal.”
“Roger that, Staff Sergeant.”
Exactly four minutes later, Albert arrived at a water management facility. The building was small, and its concrete exterior had been subjected to gang and end-of-the-world graffiti.
"What now?"
"Well, Staff Sergeant, we need to get inside,” Albert replied matter-of-factly.
Mason nudged Albert. "Well go on then, smartass.”
Albert’s frown displayed the vexation he internalized. "The door is locked from the inside, you Scottish half-breed. This was never meant to be an entrance, so I'm not sure how to-"
Before he could finish, Becca whispered, "Amateurs. Allow me."
She pulled out a hairpin and began picking the lock.
“Chesebro, where’s my update?” whispered Fikejs.
The Marine with a chin-strap beard finished the transmission and then stored the satellite phone. “West answered and I told him we are just about to enter and to maintain radio silence. He knows to wait ‘til we broadcast again or fifteen minutes have passed.”
“Good work, soldier.”
“Thanks, but I’m not a soldier and that was easy,” Rebecca interrupted facetiously. She proudly stepped back from the unlocked door. “Good to go.”
“Nice work, sis.”
Travis nodded his head. “Impressive.”
“Where’d you learn that?” asked Ryan.
“Investigative journalism has its perks,” Becca replied, winking.
Ryan blushed. “I just might be in love with you.”
The other Marines chuckled.
“What, too soon?”
“Marines,” Fikejs hissed, “Game faces. Now.”
Becca shrugged and whispered, “Maybe, maybe not, Green Eyes. Buy me a drink when we get back and we’ll see.” Then she slapped Albert's butt and said, "After you, princess."
Albert had no time to muster a reply as Fikejs grabbed the handle and pushed inward. "Like the lady said, after you, princess."
The single-story structure appeared to be almost entirely computer controlled. A low mechanical hum was constant as the automated system continued to operate the pumps and dials.
Albert walked over to the only staffed station. A wheeled chair res
ted in front of a computer terminal. The monitor displayed the words “Niagara Management Company.”
“That’s a front if I ever saw one,” mumbled Mack.
Albert logged into the network using an identification name and passcode committed to memory. However, immediately upon pressing the “enter” key, every piece of electrical equipment in the room powered off.
"What happened?"
"What'd you do?"
"You screwed us, didn't you?"
Despite a myriad of complaints and threats, Albert felt no obligation to answer them, because seconds later, they received their explanation.
A hologram, via four sensors from each corner of the room, illuminated a section of empty space.
The projected image was of a slender woman, dressed in conservative business attire. "Doctor Stone? I am quite surprised to see you. I had heard you were deceased."
"As you can see, MIA, I am very much alive."
"This is great news. I shall go inform your mother."
"No, MIA! Wait!"
The artificial intelligence’s image blinked away but came back instantly. "I don't understand. Why would you not want me to share this news?"
"Don't tell her, because..."
MIA tilted her head as a confused human would.
"Because I want to surprise her. Yes, that’s right."
"Very well..."
Then a rush of mechanical sounds caught everyone off guard. A giant panel with pipes slid open and track lighting illuminated a downward sloping path.
"You have my confidence, Doctor Stone."
"Thank you, MIA."
"But I must say, Doctor Stone, I do not recognize your associates. You are permitted, but as per standard operating procedures, they must remain until security can process them. Furthermore, I see that they are armed. You know that weapons are strictly controlled by the Guard and no unauthorized personnel are admitted into the facility without the expressed permission of Mr. Brennamen and/or your mother."
"She's on to us," Mason whispered to his cousin.
Flenderson’s brow also began to sweat. He looked nervously at Fikejs and Fikejs to Travis.
The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side Page 72