Fugitive Spy

by Jordyn Redwood

  Ashley set her face in her hands and wept.

  SEVENTEEN

  Casper and Ashley were placed in the back of a special transport unit for the drive to Copper Lake. It was necessary for Jared to keep them alive to make sure Russell fulfilled his end of the bargain. That the cure was where Russell said it was. That what Russell delivered eradicated the disease.

  And he had two human subjects to test it on to ensure what he sold was the genuine product and not a placebo.

  Inside, the vehicle looked like a gutted-out ambulance with protective sheeting. After the doors were closed, Casper stood up and tested the lock. There was no opening it from the inside.

  As the hours passed, he could see Ashley start to exhibit symptoms of the disease. Had they made the pathogen even more virulent than when it had hit Black Falls and Aspen Ridge? Had it mutated?

  It was possible...even probable.

  First came the red flush of fever—just a hint to Ashley’s cheeks. She began to shiver uncontrollably; her teeth clattered as she huddled into herself for warmth. The thin sheets that sat on the end of their gurneys provided little warmth, but Casper was glad for it as he didn’t want her bundled up trapping more heat.

  Ashley lay on her side, her eyes red and rheumy. Her nose began to run, a clear drainage. He left his own thin mattress, sat next to her and placed his lips to her forehead. It was like touching scorched earth.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her, offering a weak smile.

  “Not good.”

  Casper placed his fingers in the groove of her wrist. Her pulse was fast, but strong. Hopefully their captors would be human enough not to let them suffer without some simple medications like Tylenol for her fever. After feeling her pulse, he kept both of his hands around hers. It was like holding a hot, vibrating coal. He closed his eyes and prayed.

  Lord, help me find a way to give Ashley the cure. Ashley is strong. She’s already lived through so much, but I don’t know if she can survive this without help...without Your help. I place myself at Your mercy.

  Her voice brought him back. “Why aren’t you sick?”

  Why aren’t I sick?

  It was a valid question. He’d been so concerned about her and the quick onset of her symptoms that he’d thought little of himself. It was hard to determine how long they’d been on the road, where mere minutes could seem like hours, but considering the sun was coming up he’d guess at least eight or more hours.

  When they looked at the infectious pattern of the other victims, it seemed anyone that came into contact with those showing symptoms came down with the disease. Ashley scratched at her chest. Casper peered closer. The redness wasn’t just fever—a rash was blooming on her face and arms.

  These symptoms were more aligned with smallpox infection than Ebola. Evidently the smallpox was winning the emergence fight.

  “I was vaccinated for smallpox when I joined the CIA because of the work I was doing. Maybe that’s blocking the smallpox effects of the pathogen, which declares itself first. Were you ever vaccinated for smallpox?”

  Ashley lifted one scrutinizing eyebrow. Evidently not.

  Why wasn’t Russell with them? Did they not worry about him getting infected?

  “Do you think your dad would have given himself the cure? To protect himself?”

  “To see if it worked,” was all she could say.

  Testing the vaccine on himself? It was against most ethical codes, but it made sense though for the person that Casper knew Russell to be. He was flawed, that was for sure. His sense of protecting his family had distanced him so much from them that they didn’t know who he was—his character.

  If Russell knew Jared’s penchant for releasing this pathogen covertly, he’d have to do the same with the cure. Testing it on himself first seemed like a viable option since the normal research ethics boards weren’t available to him. He’d likely done it even before he tested it on the two patients from Aspen Ridge.

  “He’s immune,” Ashley said.

  “How does that help us?” Casper massaged his forehead. The blows Jared had delivered to him didn’t quite surpass the previous assault by his henchmen, but Casper’s growing headache was making it hard to think.

  Lord, I need a way out of this with Ashley alive. You placed her in my life for a reason. I was beginning to think it was so that we could be together. Not just for now, not just through this crisis, but for always.

  It struck him as funny—how he was developing feelings for someone considering the nature of their circumstances. It wasn’t dinner and a movie.

  It was running from death and mayhem, and not really running...but being caught.

  “Leverage,” Ashley said.

  The word was so soft that the tumultuous noise of his own thoughts almost caused him to miss it.

  “What did you say?”

  Ashley shifted, her face twisted with pain. Body aches. Muscle soreness. All signs of smallpox...but they could also signify the beginning stages of Ebola. “Jared used leverage to get my father to do what he wanted. We have to get leverage over Jared.”

  Casper thought about it. Russell gave up the location of the cure because of his love for Ashley. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her suffer and die before his own eyes. What did Jared value more than anything? Power? Status? Position? Those were all givens. What could Casper do at this point in time to threaten those?

  Think, Casper. Think. What do you know about Jared? What is it that you want him to do above anything else? I want him to publicly confess this plot. To turn himself in. How do I get him to do that? What can I take that Jared values that is within my control?

  Suddenly, the issue became crystal clear.

  Jared’s life.

  Problem was, Casper couldn’t kill him, and he’d have to drive him to confession.

  The only thing Casper had at his disposal to put Jared into a state of confession was the pathogen he and Ashley were infected with. However, Jared would have to feel the effects of the illness before he’d even consider opening his mouth.

  How do I infect Jared before he has access to the cure?

  * * *

  There was a fire brewing inside of Ashley and the embers grew with each beat of her heart into flames that seemed to be randomly rupturing the cells within her body. A hammer incessantly banged at the inside of her skull. It hurt to open her eyes. The constant motion of the ambulance caused her stomach to roll.

  The only comfort was Casper sitting next to her, his hands in nearly constant contact. Checking her temperature, feeling her pulse...simply holding her hand. There had been few instances in her life of a man caring for her in this way. Putting his own comfort aside to do everything he could to ease her suffering.

  The lighting in the back of the ambulance was dim. There were no medical supplies, nor were they given anything like water. Ashley’s temperature, increased pulse and respiratory rate were adding to her dehydration—none of which would help her fight off the infection.

  During her brief glances at Casper, she could see worry and frustration twist his face almost to madness. At times, he had taken to banging on the window that separated the driver from the back compartment to the point where it was exacerbating the jackhammer inside her brain. Oftentimes, she would reach up haphazardly to try to grab his arm to stop the extra noise.

  Without her knowing how many hours had passed, the ambulance lurched to a stop. After what seemed like another hour, the back doors opened and cool air brushed against Ashley’s skin like a healing salve. Casper released her hand and Ashley tried to sit up, but found the normally simple act impossible.

  “Why are we stopping?” Casper asked.

  Ashley forced her eyes to focus. Two of the men were standing behind the truck dressed again in their yellow biohazard suits. Something large and orange was tossed into the bac
k of the ambulance, landing squarely on the floor between their two gurneys.

  “Make sure she stays alive.” Jared’s voice.

  They only care that I live until they get what they want.

  The door closed and she heard a high-pitched zing of a zipper releasing. “What’s in there?” Ashley asked.

  The first thing Casper showed her was a needle and a syringe. “Everything we need to put my plan into action. First, let’s see if we can get you feeling a little bit better.”

  First thing, he placed a thermometer in her ear. “One hundred five.”

  No wonder I feel like my skin is on fire. It is.

  He took her blood pressure. “Low. Too low.”

  Her stomach knotted. Low blood pressure could be a sign that the infection had gotten to her bloodstream. Was it possible that it had happened so quickly? It could also be simpler—that she was dehydrated.

  A rattling of a pill bottle. Casper rummaged near the top of her bed and found a release that raised her head up. “Take these.” Six pills. Two white and four blue. “For the fever.”

  Her throat was lined with sandpaper. She wanted to refuse them, but knew that battle was futile. Maybe if her temperature came down, she’d be able to help Casper with whatever his plan was. She took the water bottle from his other hand.

  One by one, she got the pills down. Each time she swallowed, it felt like she was forcing a pile of rocks into her stomach. Next out of the duffel bag were some IV fluids. Casper unfurled a bright orange strip of plastic and tightened it around her left arm.

  Ashley’s tongue rolled over her cracked lips. Could any of these things actually help? The death rate associated with smallpox was better than Ebola’s, but having both? Was the death rate 100 percent?

  My father will stop cooperating if I’m dead.

  There was a pinch to her hand and before she knew it Casper had the bag of IV fluids up and hanging.

  “I’m going to draw some of your blood into this syringe.” He held it up so she could see it. It was one of the smaller sizes, which could hold just a milliliter of fluid.

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to infect Jared with it.”

  Ashley shook her head. Had she heard him correctly? “How will that help? We’ll be at the place where the cure is and he’ll just administer it to himself. That’s not going to get us anywhere.”

  “That’s why I have to do it before we get there. If Jared fears death, maybe he’ll do what I want him to do. Your father has only given him the location of the cure. If I had to guess, Russell is still keeping some information close to the vest—like maybe he hasn’t given Jared the codes for entry.”

  She started to shiver again as the IV fluids coursed through the veins in her arm. Casper yanked the sheet off his gurney and put it around her.

  “What do you want Jared to do?” Ashley asked.

  “Make a full confession of his crimes and tell us who is involved in the plot to release the bioweapon.”

  Ashley laid her head back down and closed her eyes. There was no easy way to say it.

  Casper’s plan was crazy.

  EIGHTEEN

  Casper didn’t have to guess what Ashley was thinking. The brief, incredulous look in her eyes before she closed them had said it all. The plan was insane. He’d be the first to admit it. The plain truth was that he didn’t have any other weapon. If he lunged and tried to break the integrity of the suit, Jared’s men could just shoot him on sight.

  Whatever he planned to do, he had to draw Jared close to him.

  Sunlight faded outside the windows. Casper overanalyzed every sensation of his body. Was his temperature increasing? A constant ache settled into his bones. Was it the pathogen or merely being beaten twice a week? Ashley slept more than she was awake. Every so often, he would nudge her just to make sure she would respond. The IV fluids had helped her heart rate and blood pressure normalize. Her temperature was lower, and her shivering had ceased. For the moment, she looked peaceful.

  Over and over, Casper worked the plan through his mind. He was also banking on the fact that Jared would keep Russell from them as he was the only other physician who could offer treatment. He and Ashley hadn’t seen Russell this whole journey during their infrequent stops. Just Jared’s two goons. Casper’s ruse had to be convincing enough to get Jared close to him.

  Casper’s body rocked as the ambulance turned off the highway, definitely taking a slower pace. It heaved like it was driving over rutted roads and then came to an abrupt stop. Casper lay down on the gurney. This time when the door opened, Jared and his two men stood at the base.

  “Get up!” Jared yelled.

  Resisting the urge to look at Ashley, Casper opened his eyes. The temperature in the back of the ambulance was sweltering, which aided Casper’s plan in making him look ill. He sat up, but then slumped to the floor, wedged between the two gurneys.

  “Go get him,” Jared ordered.

  At each shoulder was a pair of hands. They slid him across the tile and let him fall onto the road. Gravel tore at his skin and he could feel the warm release of blood from the wounds. He’d landed in the best way possible, so that his hand was somewhat pinned next to the pocket that held the syringe.

  One of the three men delivered a kick to his back. Gritting his teeth, he remained as still as possible.

  “What do you want us to do?” one of them asked.

  “Check and make sure he’s alive,” Jared said.

  “He was warm when we touched him,” the other noted.

  A rush of exhaled air punctuated the coming night. “He could still be dead,” Jared said.

  Casper slid his fingers to the top part of his pocket and gripped the plunger of the syringe. As he pulled it out, he gently unsettled the cap so the needle was exposed.

  A man, who Casper hoped would be Jared, settled an arm on his hip and shoulder. Just as he was turned onto his back, Casper opened his eyes, confirmed it was Jared under the biohazard suit, arced his arm until the needle buried itself into Jared’s shoulder and injected the contents of the syringe. He heard a satisfying hiss of air leaking from the puncture site.

  Jared scrambled away from Casper clutching his arm. “What did you do?” he screamed. His cohorts reached for their sidearms.

  Never had Casper seen armed men draw in biohazard suits. It was like some funky science fiction Western, but they were quick and Casper held his hands up in surrender, the syringe visible in one of his hands. “Only what you did to us.” Casper threw the syringe at his feet. “Infected you with whatever you infected us with. I’m guessing your dual pathogen called ES1.”

  Jared motioned for one of his goons to pick up the syringe. They wouldn’t go near it.

  “It’s Ashley’s blood,” Casper said.

  Jared marched forward and picked it up.

  Casper got up to his feet. “Ever been vaccinated against smallpox, Jared?”

  The two men kept weapons trained on Casper. “Actually, I have been.”

  “Then my guess is that you have some time before you begin feeling just as bad as Ashley.”

  “You think I’m going to take your word for this?” He brought the syringe close to Casper’s face. “This joke you’ve played is going to do nothing more than hasten your death sentence.”

  “That is...if it was a ruse. I assure you, it wasn’t.”

  “Well, we’ll see. Go in and get Ashley up. It’s time to see what her father’s been hiding.”

  Casper turned around and entered the back of the ambulance. He disconnected the bag of IV fluid that had been running, but kept the IV in place. Gently, he picked up her small frame and rested her on his shoulder, stepping back onto the ground.

  When he turned and took the building in, his heart fell. What he’d imagined would contain the stockpile for the cure would be a massive wareho
use. What stood before him was nothing more than a house in the middle of the desert. A large house, but still.

  As he turned, one of the men pressed the tip of his gun into Casper’s back. Russell waited with the door open. As Casper passed it, he saw another facial scanner to the side that Russell used to gain access. Once inside the house, Russell weaved through a couple of small passageways until he came to a staircase. At the bottom of the brittle wooden steps was another door, a punch code lock to the side.

  Once that opened up, everything about Casper’s impression of the facility changed.

  Underneath that simple house was a fully functioning lab and medical suite. How had Russell gotten the money to fund this? Was he working with someone? Or was it from the original sum Jared had given him? Casper hoped Russell had an ally...someone they could trust. Maybe that someone could help them. Then it dawned on him. Vladimir had likely been his confidant. They’d likely worked together on the cure, and that was probably why he was dead.

  Russell motioned them to a bank of rooms and slid one of the glass doors open. Casper rested Ashley on the bed and connected her to the small portable monitor that sat there. Jared stomped into the room and pulled the hood off his head. Casper didn’t regard that as the wisest of moves considering Jared didn’t know if what Casper had told him was the truth or a lie. At Jared’s command, the two gunmen hustled Russell into the room, as well. Then again, anger made men do irrational things.

  Jared held up the syringe examining its contents in the bright light. “How long will it take you to test this for ES1?” he asked Russell.

  Even from Casper’s position, he could see the blood inside. Evidently this was enough to convince Jared of the veracity of his statement.

  “You’re assuming I have a test and the lab equipment to run it, which I don’t,” Russell said.

  Jared threw the syringe across the room and turned on his heel, his breath seething through clenched teeth. He wrestled out of the remainder of his suit, sweat causing his shirt to cling to his skin. His hands were clenched into tight reddened fists.