by Bobby Akart
Second, there was a high likelihood that gunfire could be exchanged with Hassan and other jihadists inside the Southwest Plaza. Collateral damage was a real concern.
Finally, they needed to stop more shoppers from entering the building. The moment that happened, alarm bells would be set off on social media, and then the media would descend upon them, creating a bona fide circus.
Taylor’s phone rang, interrupting Hunter’s thoughts. “It’s Sanders,” he announced to Hunter. “Let’s step into the hallway so we don’t interrupt Sergeant Collins and his staff.”
Hunter followed Taylor out of the mall management’s office. Taylor held the phone flat so that Hunter could hear as well.
“Gentlemen, we’ve secured the car. Out of an abundance of precaution, we’re waiting on the Denver PD bomb squad and a hazmat team before entering it. We’re still checking security footage, as I know you are.”
“Sir,” Hunter interrupted. He looked to Taylor, who provided Hunter the phone. “I believe we need to act very quickly to secure this building. As soon as the specialized vehicles associated with hazardous materials and bomb disposal show up on the scene, a panic could ensue.”
“Should we proceed to an orderly evacuation of the building?” asked Agent Sanders.
“Negative, sir. On the contrary, nobody can leave, or if they do, they must be cordoned off in the parking lot. It’s possible that hundreds or more of these occupants at this time have been infected with the plague bacteria, using an aerosol method of delivery. I suggest that we immediately close the mall to new occupants and instruct the police to seal off all exits by funneling people into an area close to the building, but no further, until they’re medically cleared.”
Sanders was silent for a moment while he digested Hunter’s suggestion. “I don’t know if they have the manpower to restrain a couple of thousand panicked citizens coming through lord knows how many exits.”
“Over a hundred, sir,” said Hunter.
“We found him!” shouted Sergeant Collins from the mall office door. “He’s in the east end, second floor, looking over the rail. Head for the Dillard’s entrance now!”
“Agent Sanders, they’ve located Hassan. Taylor and I will move in. Sir, you need to secure this building immediately.”
“I’m calling the governor. We’ll need the rapid deployment of the Colorado National Guard. Get this guy!”
Hunter joined Sergeant Collins and Taylor in the office to study Hassan for a moment before they made their move. “We can’t move on him yet,” said Hunter.
“Why not?” protested Sergeant Collins. “We have a procedure for this based upon mass shootings. Everyone is instructed to shelter in place. Store managers secure their roll-up steel grated doors to prevent anyone from getting in. It’s like an orderly fire drill. Mall personnel move into place to escort shoppers out of the main exits into the parking lot.”
“That won’t work this time,” said Hunter. “We’ve got to allow the Denver PD and the National Guard time to get into place. Once the mall begins to evacuate, everyone will need to be quarantined and then medically cleared.”
“For what?” asked Sergeant Collins.
“The plague.”
Chapter 45
Day Forty-Two
Southwest Plaza Mall
Littleton
“Time is not on our side, Hunter,” said Taylor. “I see where you’re coming from. We can’t cause a panic because we may end up sending a thousand infected people into the streets. You know, however, as soon as the police presence begins to build outside, word will spread and we’ll have a full-blown panic on our hands. Not to mention, all of the above will spook Hassan and he might get away.”
“Trust me, I understand,” said Hunter as he watched the surveillance cam pan the upper level near Hassan’s position. Sergeant Collins was now seated at a computer, studying the live feeds from the first floor.
“There,” he shouted, pointing to a burka-covered woman with a child. “Watch her. It’s very subtle.”
Hunter and Taylor looked over his shoulder as he rewound the footage. Then he replayed it in slow motion. The sergeant was excited as he narrated the clip.
“Watch as she walks by the woman pushing a stroller. Wait for it. Watch her left hand. There! Did you see that?”
The woman’s hand slipped out from her burka and her thumb depressed the top of a small device that resembled a perfume bottle. The mom pushing the stroller never noticed. The burka-covered woman continued her casual walk through the mall, occasionally spraying a passerby or people sitting on one of the numerous benches along the walkway.
Sergeant Collins forwarded the video to show live footage. “Look, going the opposite direction. It’s another woman, this time without a burka. Look at her shopping bag. It has a hose coming out of it. There’s a sprayer attachment of some kind. She’s simply spraying hard surfaces like handrails, doors, and seating. The whole mall will be covered with this stuff.”
Hunter went back to the other terminal, where the assistant continued to monitor Hassan. “Have you seen anyone approach him?”
“No, sir. He never looks anywhere except down toward the first floor,” she replied.
“He’s admiring his handiwork from a safe distance,” mumbled Hunter. “John, he won’t stay much longer. As his operatives canvass the first floor, they’ll eventually take the escalator to the next level. Hassan won’t stick around for that.”
“Let’s take him down,” said Taylor.
Hunter admired Taylor’s gung ho attitude, but capturing Hassan would take finesse. The man was too cunning to walk up to and arrest. “Sergeant Collins, is there a service hallway that leads to Dillard’s from our location?”
“Yes, I’ll show you,” replied Sergeant Collins. He escorted Hunter and Taylor to the rear of their offices, where he directed them to follow the corridor until they found a door marked rue21, a clothing retailer adjacent to Dillard’s. From there, a hallway would lead them into the mall, just behind Hassan’s position overlooking the rail.
Hunter had a request of Sergeant Collins. “Sergeant, please call Agent Sanders, whom you spoke with earlier. Tell him we’re moving on Hassan. Thanks.”
Hunter and Taylor raced through the back hallways until they reached the entrance pointed out by Sergeant Collins. “John, I need you to get into position at the Dillard’s entrance. If I’m made, Hassan will bolt for the nearest exit, which will be through there. The door into Dillard’s is up ahead. When you see me emerge, we’ll move on him together.”
“Sounds good,” said Taylor.
“One more thing,” said Hunter. “If he senses it’s over, he might try to take us with him. When the time comes, wear your mask and gloves. Don’t let him get too close, John. There is no cure for this plague bacteria.”
“But the news reports said antibiotics—” started Taylor.
“They’re wrong, John,” said Hunter, who grabbed his partner by the shoulders. “Listen to me. There is no cure. Do not let Hassan take you down with him. Understood?”
“You bet. Let’s roll.” Taylor trotted to Dillard’s rear door and entered the storeroom. Hunter made his way into the hall, which led to the mall’s shopping area. He reached the opening and saw Hassan casually resting his elbows on the shiny chrome railing, observing the activity on the first floor.
Hunter waited until Taylor emerged through the women’s perfume counters, wearing his mask and gloves. Despite the tense situation, Hunter mused that Taylor’s attire was appropriate. Hunter often gasped for air after passing through the scent-filled air from offers to spray the latest fragrance on every shopper.
The two men made eye contact and Hunter put on his mask and gloves. His eyes were taken off Hassan for a few seconds during the process, so Hunter didn’t notice the two young women who stopped next to Hassan on the far side to look over the rail. They briefly attracted Hassan’s attention, so Hunter made his move.
He began to approach when Hassan�
��s peripheral vision caught Hunter’s reflection in the chrome rail. The two men made brief eye contact before Hassan spun and grabbed one of the women around the neck while deftly pulling a sidearm from under his shirt. The move, which took less than two seconds, could only have been accomplished by a well-trained operative.
“Drop the weapon, Hassan,” screamed Taylor as he emerged through Dillard’s entrance.
Hassan swung the girl around like a rag doll, wildly moving his weapon from target to target. The girl, who had remained quiet out of utter fear, finally found her voice and shrieked. This attracted the attention of everyone in the west end of the mall. The stampede for the exits happened within seconds thereafter.
“It’s over, Hassan,” said Hunter as he cautiously approached his target, the red dot sight illuminating Hassan’s head as it turned back and forth.
Hassan screamed in proper King’s English learned during his schooling in London. “It is over, infidel! But not in the way you state. We have started the final jihad and praise Allah through your blood, which will spill through your noses and mouths.”
“Drop the weapon,” Taylor demanded, which drew a response from Hassan.
“Allahu Akbar!” shouted Hassan in response.
What happened next stopped Hunter in his tracks. Despite the frenzied screams of the mall occupants as they scrambled for the exits, someone echoed Hassan’s words.
Hunter looked down to the lower level.
Hassan shouted again, “Allahu Akbar!”
This time more Islamists shouted back in the voices of males, females, and children.
“Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!” came the chorus from below them.
“Taylor, are you hearing this?” shouted Hunter.
“We are everywhere, infidels!” shouted Hassan.
The chants echoed through the mall, causing the screams of the panicked shoppers to be subdued out of fear. “Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!”
Hunter, undeterred, pressed the fight. If Hassan’s operatives were armed, he and Taylor would be outnumbered very soon. “Last chance, daesh coward. You’re not a soldier. You are a weak sissy. You have no balls, daesh coward.”
“Your words do not deter me, infidel,” screamed a now angry Hassan in response. The word daesh is pronounced similar to an Arabic word that means someone has been defeated or trampled on. It is considered an insult to those who identify themselves as part of the Islamic State.
Hassan pressed his weapon against the young girl’s temple, causing her shrieks to stop and her eyes to grow wider. “Death to America. Death to the infidels. Allahu—”
“Shut up,” whispered Hunter as he squeezed the trigger.
BOOM—BOOM.
The rounds from Hunter’s P320 found their mark, echoing throughout the mall, then exploding on impact as they obliterated Hassan’s head. The dead terrorist leader’s body remained upright momentarily before collapsing in a heap on top of the young woman he’d held captive.
Taylor rushed to assist her before Hunter shouted, “John, stop! You can’t get closer.”
The chants of Hassan’s operatives stopped and one man fired wildly in Hunter’s direction, but the bullets ricocheted off the mall’s ceiling. Automatic fire filled the air from below as members of Denver PD’s SWAT team killed the shooter immediately.
The woman finally extricated herself from Hassan’s body and ran screaming through Dillard’s, leaving Taylor and Hunter alone to stand over Hassan’s body.
“Nice shot,” said Taylor.
Hunter nodded. “I’d heard enough of his mouth. This was not going to end well for the girl, and killing Hassan was inevitable.”
“What’s next?” asked Taylor, who immediately ducked when more gunfire erupted in the east end of the mall. Hunter and Taylor quickly retreated to the entrance to Dillard’s.
“I think today’s ball games need to be called off. This city is about to freak out. Law enforcement will have their hands full with the chaos. They don’t need to worry about maintaining security at sporting events.”
“I’ll call Sanders to see what he wants us to do, but my vote is to head back to the office.”
Hunter nodded as he watched the blood of Hassan ooze across the floor toward his feet. He immediately wondered if Hassan’s blood contained the plague, causing him to step back a few paces. Hunter had not become paranoid at the thought of contracting the disease. He was acutely aware of everything that surrounded him, especially people—whether dead or alive.
“Yeah, let’s go back, John. I think I’m done.”
Taylor shot Hunter a puzzled look, which he did not return or explain. Hunter’s mind was made up. This was his last rodeo.
PART THREE
WEEK SEVEN
Chapter 46
Day Forty-Three
CDC Operations Center
Atlanta
Janie made copious notes as Dr. Spielman led the morning briefing following the statements made by the President on the prior day. The plague pandemic now dominated the news and international reports began to find their way into American television sets, newspapers, and social media. In addition to updated numbers, Dr. Spielman was also sharing a huge jump in American cases reported in thirty-seven states.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in my opinion, this is officially a pandemic although the World Health Organization is remarkably unable to declare it as one at this time,” continued Dr. Spielman, who was coming under fire from the media following the President’s remarks. “Yesterday, the President didn’t do us any favors in our efforts to keep this disease from crossing our borders or containing it now that it has arrived.”
Baggett stood at the rear of the room and scowled at Dr. Spielman. Baggett continuously looked at the CDC’s activities through the prism of politics and budget constraints. Janie was very much aware of the friction between Dr. Spielman and D-Bag. She only wished Mac was here to see the battle for herself.
Dr. Spielman continued. “The President has provided some good advice by recommending social distancing. On the other hand, by encouraging people who are, quote, symptomatic to immediately seek medical treatment without accurately defining those symptoms has made a bad situation for our nation’s hospitals and clinics much, much worse.”
He threw his pen on the conference table in disgust. Janie was aware of the director’s reaction to the President’s press conference because she had been in the hallway outside the small conference room, where he watched it live behind closed doors. When the President implied the CDC was caught unaware, and hence, unprepared or incompetent, Dr. Spielman had lashed out in anger. Others up and down the hallway had heard his reaction as well.
“I will not allow the reputation of the CDC to be besmirched by the press or those in government who are attempting to deflect blame for their own inadequacies,” said Dr. Spielman. “Accordingly, from this point forward, we’re going to take the proverbial bull by the horns.”
The group of seventeen scientists and department heads erupted in spontaneous applause for the director’s statement. Only Baggett remained emotionless. Dr. Spielman raised his hand to tamp down the enthusiasm.
“The first order of business is to tell the truth about the plague. I’m talking about the origins in Guatemala, the spread throughout Europe, and the potential it has for American citizens. Further, we need to get very specific on the incubation period, the contagious phase, and the symptoms to watch for. I believe that the only way to get a handle on this situation is to be open and honest.”
The group nodded their approval and spoke amongst themselves. Dr. Spielman looked through his notes before speaking again.
“This evening, I will be making the rounds on the nightly news casts via live-to-tape interviews on CNN, Fox News, and the three mainstream news networks. My intention is to inform the public about the threat we face and how the CDC is working to avert a crisis. But most importantly, I want them to know there is a way to protect themselves without putting others at risk.”
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Again, the CDC staff nodded and voiced their approval. Janie was proud that the big boss was finally taking control of the public discussion. She only wished Mac hadn’t been dismissed before she could see this. Two weeks ago she’d tried to lead the charge on warning the public, and she’d lost her job as a result.
For that, Janie blamed the President and Baggett. Janie felt the urge to shoot D-Bag a dirty look, but when she turned to find him at the back of the room, he was gone.
Chapter 47
Day Forty-Three
DTRA/CIA Facility
Fort Collins
Hunter’s question echoed in her mind. How close are we to going off the cliff? The cliffside free fall Hunter was referring to was the day they were unsafe being in public either due to contracting the disease or when humanity began to destroy one another. Mac once read in a novel that we should never underestimate the depravity of man. She was beginning to see what the author meant.
Finally, she admitted it aloud to an empty conference room, “Mac, we’re on the cliff. You know it’s already happening. People are dying. Sure, it’s going to get worse, but we’re already there.”
Mac rubbed her temples as she debated what to do. Hunter firmly believed that he’d killed one of the masterminds behind the plot to create and distribute the modified version of the Madagascar strain of the plague. However, it was too late.
Her original epi curve was a little too dire, but the revised model created by Dr. Leigh’s ASSURE program wasn’t exactly rosy. The numbers coincided closely with real-time data being streamed to her from Janie in Atlanta. In the United States, over ten million were reported infected now. This number would triple each day. There were a hundred thousand deaths attributed in the last three days, with another quarter million lives likely lost to the plague pending confirmation via autopsy results.