by Mike Kraus
The vehicles were pouring out of the compound in droves through the exit she had created, escaping the rapidly rising flood waters. With any luck the soldiers and marines would be able to quickly relocate to a new location without losing too many supplies or any men. What would happen next, though, was something she didn’t want to ponder. Sending soldiers into a city full of a viral plague sounded like certain death for those involved.
Chapter 2
Driving down the road wouldn’t have felt like such a waste of time had Linda been traveling on literally any other road in the entire country. The road she and Frank had taken into Philadelphia was the best one—initially at least—to take back east, though, and she begrudgingly took it. It was hard not to feel like the last few days had been a waste, though, and in more ways than one.
With all of the disasters to have befallen Pigeon Forge she was certain beyond a doubt that her parents—the chief reason for her travel south—were gone. She had also spent a great deal of time and energy working with Frank and while she had expected them to go separate ways at some point she felt emotionally exhausted by the entire situation thanks to their argument.
The larger, overarching reason for feeling like her time had been wasted was Omar. Linda couldn’t help but feel responsible for the terrorist attacks taking place. She reasoned that if she had somehow managed to work a little harder or make just one or two more contacts then she could have gotten to Omar and stopped him before he had a chance to unleash his violence upon the United States.
Her injury, all but forgotten during the commotion at the base, was bothering her as she drove and she did her best to ignore it. It wasn’t bleeding and she doubted it was infected but she wished she had remembered to get a medic there to check it out. The half-assed patch job done by Frank and herself had held it together, but she didn’t know what sort of physical labor was going to be required in the days ahead.
With the torrential downpours well behind her, Linda tried to enjoy the sunny skies while they lasted. The sky was blue with few clouds, the trees were still shedding their colorful autumn leaves and everything—aside from the destruction scattered here and there on the road—seemed serene and peaceful. If Linda hadn’t been driving a three-ton armored military vehicle that handled like the Titanic then she could have almost believed that it was just another average day.
Linda’s attempts to focus on the positives of her drive were soon derailed when she heard a sound in the distance behind her. She looked in the mirror and saw a vehicle far behind her honking its horn and flashing its lights. As it got closer she realized that it was another Humvee, though dark green in color. It was impossible to identify who was driving or riding inside, but the vehicle drove erratically, swerving all over the road. Whoever was driving it was experienced with handling large vehicles, though, as Linda thought more than once it was going to flip or crash only to be surprised as it stayed firmly on the road.
“What the hell?” Linda’s eyes flicked back and forth between the mirror and the road as she tried to figure out what was going on. No one from the Army or Marines surrounding the city would have been driving like the person behind her and with all the commotion and confusion going on she wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had stolen a vehicle. Already feeling paranoid by her recent theories about Omar, Linda immediately jumped to the assumption that the person behind her was going to try and run her off the road.
Looking ahead and to the sides, Linda saw that the clearing on the left side of the road was nearly at an end and a line of fencing and large trees was at the end of it. The road going along past that point was clear as well so she eased off the accelerator, letting the massive vehicle slow itself down as she shifted into second gear.
The vehicle behind her didn’t slow down with her, though, and it swerved to the left to overtake her. Right before it drew neck-and-neck with her Humvee she hit the brakes and turned the wheel to the left. She braced herself as her Humvee slammed into the one that had been following her. The driver, while skilled, was taken completely by surprise by her maneuver. She saw the driver’s form flailing about in the driver’s seat, struggling to keep the vehicle under control, but the impact was too great to handle.
The green Humvee went flying off the road into the thick grass and dirt, slowing down dramatically as the wheels dug into the wet soil. The green Humvee didn’t slow down enough to avoid slamming into one of the large oak trees at the edge of the field, though, and the sound of the impact was a sickening crunch that made a grim smile of satisfaction cross Linda’s face.
She hit the brakes on her vehicle and pulled to the side of the road before parking her Humvee, grabbing her rifle and jumping out. She headed down into the field, walking slowly with her weapon at the ready. Linda circled around the back of the Humvee, keeping it at a safe distance while she tried to get a view of the driver to see what condition he was in.
As Linda drew close the driver’s side door flew open and she moved her finger to the trigger, ready to fire. The person that emerged did so slowly and haphazardly, groaning as they slid out and onto the ground. The figure was a man, though his back was towards Linda, and he was clutching his chest in pain as he coughed weakly.
“God… dammit…” The man’s voice was faint but Linda recognized it instantly. She lowered her rifle and broke into a run as the mask of anger and suspicion left her face and was replaced by worry.
“Frank?” Linda shouted as she ran up to Frank and turned him over. He coughed again and winced, his body shaking from the pain and shock of the wreck.
“What the fuck, Linda?” Frank spat the words out at her, looking at her with an expression of betrayal in his eyes.
“Holy shit, Frank! I didn’t know it was you!”
“Who else did you think it was who would be driving after you and honking and flashing their lights?” Frank started trying to push himself up to his feet but stopped and clutched at his chest again. “If I broke a rib I’m going to tear it out and stab you in the face with it, you asshole.”
Watching Frank lying on his back in the grass with the Humvee’s radiator hissing steam and listening to the birds and the wind in the background suddenly seemed extremely amusing. Linda tried to hold back a giggle but couldn’t, then broke into a full-blown laugh as she plopped down onto the ground next to Frank. He, in turn, gave up on trying to sit up and put his head back, breathing heavily for a minute before he looked at her.
“What the hell’s so funny?”
“You. Being so indignant right now. I’m just wondering what made you think that it was a good idea to come driving up on me like one of those meth-heads.”
Frank snorted, his temper waning as he listened to Linda still chuckling next to him. “I had been driving for a while and when I saw you I wanted to get your attention.” He shifted positions on the ground, moving a few inches to the side to get his back off of a tree branch and groaned from the pain. “I’d say it worked.”
Linda nodded. “Sure did.” Her laughter died out and her smile faded as they sat for several more minutes in silence while Frank continued to catch his breath and assess his injuries. When she finally spoke she did so without looking down at Frank, choosing instead to look out across the grassy field. “So why are you here, Frank?”
Frank sighed. “Because I’m a stubborn son of a bitch.”
“I can see that. Why, though?”
“After our argument I got my stuff, got a vehicle from the Colonel and started heading south. It took me an hour or two of driving before I calmed down and realized that you needed me to come along with you so I turned around and came back.” Frank slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and turned around to sit next to Linda with his back to the Humvee.
Linda scoffed at his statement and shook her head. “Me… needing you? Ha. For what?”
“Well I did save your ass… how many times was it? At least three. Maybe more than that?”
Linda rolled her eyes. “I had those
situations under control. Besides, what about your parents?”
“You ever see the movie Tremors?”
Linda frowned as she thought. “I think so. Years ago. It was about those underground grabber things, right?”
“Graboids. Yeah. I watched it all the time growing up. There was a character on the show named Burt. I can’t remember his last name. But he was the kind of guy my parents are. Lived in the middle of nowhere, had enough food and water to last years and enough guns in his basement to outfit a small South American country.”
Linda chuckled. “So they’re well-armed, huh?”
“That’s an understatement.” Frank took a deep breath and opened his jacket and pulled up his shirt. His chest was red and there were already several small bruises showing up along the line where his seat belt had been located. “Dammit. That’s going to leave a hell of a mark.” Frank gingerly touched his rib cage, wincing in pain. “I don’t think anything’s broken. Hurts, though.”
Linda glanced at Frank’s chest and patted her leg. “I keep forgetting about this stupid thing till it hurts so bad I feel like I couldn’t walk if I had to.”
“You should’ve gotten it checked out back there at the base.”
“Yeah. I should’ve done a lot back there at the base.”
Frank and Linda lapsed into silence for a moment until she spoke again. “So what happened to the whole ‘don’t abandon your parents’ shtick?”
Frank shook his head. “My parents don’t need help from me or anyone else. Your parents, though…” Frank paused and sighed. “I’m not going to pretend I think you made the right choice to leave.”
Linda could feel herself getting angrier with each passing word and she tried to talk but Frank cut her off. “Just shut up and listen to me, okay? I don’t think you made the right choice but maybe you did. That’s for you to deal with. I shouldn’t have said some of what I said to you. While I was driving I did a lot of thinking and realized that if what you’re saying is true, about this Obar guy—”
“Omar.” Linda slipped the word in quietly.
“Omar, yes. If your ideas about him are true and everything you told me about you pursuing him is true then you need my help. And I have to help you.”
“What makes you think I need your help?”
“Because if you screw up and fail then that’ll be on my head.”
Linda snorted and turned to look at Frank. “You sure don’t seem confident in my abilities to handle myself.”
“Lady,” Frank said, smiling at Linda, “if the last few days is anything to go on you need somebody there watching you twenty-four seven. I’m surprised you didn’t run off the road already.” Linda slugged Frank in the arm and he toppled over, barely holding in a laugh through the pain in his chest.
“I really don’t want you here, you know.” Linda pulled Frank back up. “This is my war, not yours.”
The smile disappeared from Frank’s face and he grew deadly serious. “Every single red-blooded American is in this war now. Including me. I’m not a soldier. I’m a pencil-pushing accountant who got laid off and had to drive eighteen-wheelers to pay the bills. I was lucky enough to have parents who showed me how to handle a gun and I can take care of myself. All things being equal I’d rather live on the grid than off. But this?” Frank shook his head defiantly. “No way. I’m not letting this slide. No, I’m with you. If you know who did this and if they’re planning something even worse then I’m with you every step of the way.”
When Frank got to the end of his impromptu speech he realized he was out of breath and Linda was staring at him with an odd look on her face. He gasped for air a few times until he stopped feeling light-headed and Linda replied.
“I’m sorry, Frank. I don’t say that often but I mean it. I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did. And maybe you’re right about Pigeon Forge. But I think I’m making the right call given the situation. And if I am right and I… we can figure a way to stop this asshole then a lot of people won’t have to die like so many have.”
“Apology accepted.” Frank nodded and ground his teeth together. He pushed off from the vehicle and stood up swiftly, grabbing for the open door of the vehicle to keep from doubling over from the pain. He held out a hand to Linda and she took it, standing awkwardly as she favored her injured leg.
“Good.” Linda nodded. “Grab your stuff. We’ve got a war to fight.”
Chapter 3
“Follow me, please.”
The statement is simple, but it is more than a request. It is an order with an implication that if it is not obeyed then there will be severe consequences. Linda stays close to the secretary she is following, ensuring she doesn’t fall behind by more than a few feet. She knows full well what the implication of disobedience entails inside the normal-looking office building.
Sitting on the bank of the Potomac River just a few miles from the CIA’s headquarters in Langley, the building is seven stories high—ten if the basement levels are included. Its exterior is faux brick and the windows are for appearances only. No signals are allowed in or out of the building except through monitored hard lines.
Security, to the layman, appears lax but Linda knows it to be anything but. Electronic monitoring of the physical and digital world inside the building is at an unprecedented level due to the extreme level of secrecy required for the work that goes on. The building also functions as a test bed of sorts for deploying advanced monitoring techniques to other facilities both within the CIA and other government bodies.
While no armed guards are visible from the halls, Linda is well aware that a small army of them are located on and around the building. Any attempts to disrupt security, steal anything or even piss off the wrong person will be met with varying degrees of force. Due to her background she knows that she’s being watched extremely carefully so she makes sure to keep her hands visible at all times and do everything she’s told to do.
After passing through numerous halls and up two flights—one by elevator and the other by stairs—Linda and the man she is following arrive at their destination. A nondescript door with a keypad and simple numeric identification number on a tag above the keypad are the only indications that they have arrived at their destination.
The secretary turns to Linda. “Turn around, please, and place both of your hands on the wall in the designated positions.” She obliges the request by placing her hands on two handprints and the secretary knocks on the door one time before entering a code on the keypad. A biometric scan is performed of both the secretary and Linda using scanners in the keypad and on the far wall, ensuring that both of them are who they say they are before the door opens.
Linda turns around at the sound of the opening door and the secretary steps aside, motioning for her to enter the room. She won’t be allowed out of the room without an escort out of the building and the secretary must ensure the door is closed and locked before he can return to his duties.
Inside the small office a woman sits at a computer, furiously pounding on a keyboard. Linda steps inside and nods at the secretary who pulls the door shut and locks it. The woman at the desk doesn’t look up at Linda, continuing to type for a full two minutes before finally stopping. She turns and glances at Linda before nodding at her.
“Ms. Rollins, I presume?”
“Call me Linda, please. You’re Mrs. Callahan?”
Sarah Callahan, a fifteen-year veteran of the Central Intelligence Agency, stands up from her desk and extends her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Linda. Call me Sarah. Have a seat, won’t you?” Sarah walks around the desk to a coffee pot sitting on a table. “Forgive my manners. We don’t typically get visitors and I don’t get out much these days.”
“No worries at all.” Linda flashes a smile and accepts a paper cup filled with coffee with a nod. “Jack said they work you hard here.”
Sarah sits back down behind her desk and sighs wearily. The intense, focused look that was on her face when Linda walked in is gone, replaced b
y a look of someone who is about to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. “It’s been hell lately, I don’t mind telling you. But that’s not why you’re here.” Sarah straightens in her chair and looks at Linda. “You must have something juicy on Jack for him to get you clearance to be brought in here.”
Linda laughs. “Yeah, well, they didn’t exactly make it easy on me. I’m pretty sure my time in the Marines worked against me.”
“That makes sense, I’m sorry to say.” Sarah takes a sip from her cup of coffee. “So what is it I can help you with?”
Linda glances around and licks her lips, still unsure about sharing the information she has brought. Sarah, immediately understanding her nervousness, points at the ceiling. “It’s unmonitored in here for video and audio. Shocking, I know, but we get a tiny bit of privacy at least.”
Linda nods with relief. “I’m glad for that. There’s no easy way to talk about this so I’ll try to give you the highlights first and you tell me what details you think might be important.”
Sarah remains silent as she sips on her coffee so Linda clears her throat and continues. “As you’re probably aware my squad was a victim of an unorthodox attack during the invasion. It’s my belief that we were essentially used as guinea pigs to test new weapons tech developed by Farhad Omar. I’ve done some digging but all I’ve been able to come up with is tenuous proof that he did it. Which is something I already know. What I’m trying to find out is how to catch the bastard and bring him to justice.”
Sarah sits quietly, watching and listening with intense interest to every syllable Linda utters and every movement she makes. Trained for years on how to spot someone lying as well as how to read a person Sarah is convinced that her initial impression of Linda was correct. She finishes her cup of coffee and throws the paper cup into a trash can before pulling her chair back up to her desk and placing her hands on the desk.