by Dirk Patton
“Our normal would surprise you,” I said.
He looked at me for a few beats, trying to decide how to interpret that.
“Colonel Chase, there is no such thing as a zero-risk pregnancy. Some are higher risk than others, but none are risk free. At this point, both your wife and babies are doing fine. The goal is to ensure they continue to do fine, and the best way to achieve that is to mitigate as much stress in her life as possible. These two events were early warnings, nothing more. But we need to pay attention because the next time could be serious. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
I stared at him a beat then nodded my head.
35
Admiral Packard lit a cigarette as he settled onto the bench overlooking the harbor. Below, at the docks, crews worked feverishly on refitting cargo ships to carry the population of Hawaii across several thousand miles of ocean.
He’d always enjoyed the spot, relishing a break from the never-ending administrative details that demanded his attention, but it was no longer the pleasant retreat it had once been.
Since receiving the transfusion of Colonel Chase’s blood that had saved his life, his senses had been greatly heightened. Magnified exponentially. In some respects, he appreciated that. Especially since he no longer needed to use reading glasses.
But he was unable to venture outdoors without being slapped in the face by the smell of a dying ecosystem. It was everywhere. Cloying. A constant reminder that the clock was ticking for the human race.
He looked around when his new head of security mumbled that Captain West was approaching. The Captain was coming at a fast jog, which could only mean something bad had happened. Packard got to his feet as West pulled to a stop.
“We’re in contact with Captain Vostov’s group, sir! Point Mugu. They made it into the command center and Chief Strickland managed to get some sat gear working.”
“Have they approached any of Barinov’s senior commanders?” Packard asked, a flicker of hope flaring in his chest.
“No, sir. They’ve had some problems that set them back. But there’s something else. The Russians are doing something up the coast. Chief Strickland spotted a convoy moving north. BTRs for protection and thirty-seven high-capacity trucks.”
The Admiral frowned at the news.
“Thirty-seven? Do we know where they’re going? Vandenberg’s in that direction.”
“Not yet, sir. I’ve got Chief Simmons trying to locate them so we can get a peek at what they’re so interested in.”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good for us,” Packard said, stripping his cigarette and shoving the butt in his pocket. “Let’s go see the Chief.”
The Admiral took off across the lawn with West at his side, the security detail scrambling to catch up. They finally managed to restore a proper perimeter around the two fast moving men just as they reached the entrance to Jessica’s building. Packard breezed through the checkpoints without slowing and pounded down the stairs rather than wait for an elevator.
Captain West briefly considered commenting on the older man’s amazing energy level and stamina, then thought better of it. There was no reason to point out the obvious. He was just happy the Admiral was healthy and back in command.
“Have you found the Russian convoy, Chief?” the Admiral asked as he strode up behind Jessica.
She was hard at work, multiple monitors displaying the central California coastline.
“I’ve found them sir, but I’m not sure what they’re doing.”
“Show me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jessica clicked her mouse a few times then the massive screen in the front of the room bloomed to life. She zoomed slightly on a long line of trucks parked on a highway that bordered several giant farms. The fields were a lush green, overgrown from long neglect.
“Where is this?” Captain West asked.
Jessica zoomed out, giving them a better view.
“Northwest of Santa Barbara. Up in the foothills of the Santa Ynez mountains.”
“What are they doing?” the Admiral asked.
“Nothing, as far as I can tell, sir. They’re just sitting there, smoking. Almost like they’re waiting for someone or something.”
“Where does the road go?” West asked.
“Nowhere. It dead ends in another couple of...”
She stopped speaking when her console began beeping an alert. Typing quickly, she pulled the view out and the system drew a box around a helicopter in flight. They watched as it approached the location where the convoy was stopped and landed on the road, well away from the closest vehicle. Three men climbed down as a pair of soldiers hurried to meet them.
Jessica zoomed tight on the new arrivals. A Russian General and two men in civilian clothing. She clicked a couple of times and their images were captured and sent to the facial recognition system.
After a proper greeting for the General, all of the men moved to the edge of the pavement, pausing at a broad irrigation ditch that separated the field from the road. One of the NCOs from the convoy could be seen shouting orders and four soldiers grabbed a long plank from the back of a truck and carried it forward to span the gap.
Once it was in place, the pair of civilians led the way across, into the field. They immediately began collecting samples of whatever crop was growing, then returned to the closest truck when their hands were full. A small folding table with several portable instruments had already been set up and they got to work.
“What are you doing?” the Admiral asked softly, eyes riveted to the screen.
The two civilians worked for several minutes, taking samples of the vegetation and inserting them into the different machines. Then they stood, apparently unspeaking with their full attention focused on the instruments.
Admiral Packard wasn’t a patient man and would normally have left his aide to monitor the Russians’ activities, but this was just too damn strange. What the hell was in that field that was so important? What was worth devoting all of the time and resources?
Fifteen minutes later, both men suddenly leaned closer to check the results of whatever tests they were performing. The General, drawn by their movement, came up behind them and when they turned the smiles on their faces were quite obvious. The General asked a few questions to which he received eager nods, then turned and gestured to the sergeants who’d ridden with the convoy.
Orders were shouted and quickly men were leaping down from the trucks with shovels and burlap bags in their hands. Rushing into the field, they began digging up the crop, being sure to get the root of each plant. They were then carefully placed into burlap bags before being wetted down and loaded into a truck.
“What the holy hell are we seeing?” Packard asked.
“I’ve got no clue, sir,” West said. “But I’m sure as hell going to see what I can find out.”
“One thing, sir,” Jessica said. “I pulled up a survey map of the area. These fields are state-owned property.”
“Not commercial?” the Admiral asked in surprise.
“Not according to the data I could find, no sir. State of California is listed as the owner.”
He turned back to the screen, watching as the Russian soldiers worked. Bags were still being filled and loaded into the waiting trucks.
“Whatever they’ve found, we need to know what it is. Captain, are we still able to reach Chief Strickland on comms?”
“Chief?” West asked, looking at Jessica.
“Yes, sir. He has a portable satellite encryption unit he took from Mugu.”
Packard took a breath, pausing as he considered his options.
“Contact him, Chief. I want him to get eyes on that field and stay put in case any of our experts need something checked.”
36
“Gotta pull over,” Strickland said as he tapped the brakes and came to a stop in the middle of the highway.
“What is wrong?” Irina asked.
“That was Pearl Harbor,” he said, nodding at the s
at phone he’d just put down. “I’ve got to go back.”
“Go back?” Igor asked, a look of confusion on his face.
“Yep. My orders are to go back to Santa Barbara. That convoy I saw went to a farm a little farther up the coast and started digging up plants.”
“Plants?” Irina asked from the back seat. “What kind of plants? And why?”
“Beats me. Maybe they’ll tell me when I get there, but I got a feeling Hawaii is as in the dark as we are.”
“In dark?” Igor asked, shaking his head.
“Means they don’t know what the fuck is goin’ on.”
Igor nodded and turned to look at Irina.
“We cannot go back,” she said. “I still must go to Los Angeles and try to stop Barinov.”
“Orders didn’t say anything ‘bout the two of you,” Strickland said. “Just me.”
“We should go without you?”
He was quiet for a long stretch before turning to face Irina.
“Didn’t say I liked it.”
She held his eyes until he sighed and turned to look through the windshield at the dark road. They had been driving without any lights to avoid attracting the attention of a passing pilot. Without night vision the going was slow, but still faster than walking.
“You go?” Igor asked, breaking the silence in the truck’s cab.
“Orders are orders,” Strickland said with a shrug. “Besides, if there’s something about that farm that has Barinov’s interest, it’s best if we find out what it is.”
“How will you get there?” Irina asked. “We have been driving a very long time.”
“It’s about seventy miles. Only seems a long way away cause we’re having to go so damn slow with no headlights.”
“You cannot walk seventy miles. You have no weapon and we have seen too many infected.”
Strickland nodded slowly. He’d hoped they would be able to find weapons and ammunition at Point Mugu, but if there was a small arms armory, he’d been unable to locate it. All he’d come up with was a well-used combat knife that had been dropped in the middle of a parking lot. The leather wrap around the hilt was stained black from blood.
“You’re right. Gotta be coming to a town soon and I should be able to find a car.”
“If it start,” Igor said.
“Then I’ll be walking,” Strickland said with a shrug.
“Turn around,” Irina said. “There were cars at the Naval Air Station.”
“That’s backtracking almost twenty miles,” Strickland said. “Let’s just keep going and I’ll find something.”
“No,” Irina said firmly as she reached over the seat and put her hand on his shoulder. “We will help you find a car. You have not abandoned us and we shall not abandon you. Now, turn around. You are wasting time.”
She looked at Igor and quickly translated what she’d said so there was no doubt he understood.
“Da!” he said as soon as she was done. “We help!”
Strickland looked at each of them, seeing the determination on their faces. Smiling, he reached up and squeezed Irina’s hand then clapped Igor on the arm. Without any further conversation, he got the vehicle turned around and moving in the direction they’d just come from.
“You really think you’ll be able to talk the generals into tossing Barinov out on his ass?” he asked.
“I think I must try.”
He looked at Irina in the mirror and nodded understanding. After that, they drove in silence, turning into Point Mugu NAS just over an hour later. Strickland dropped their speed to no more than a crawl to give them time to scan for threats as well as a vehicle he could take. As it had been earlier, there were no infected. He didn’t understand why but wasn’t about to complain.
“There are a lot of cars over there,” Irina said.
Strickland looked across the empty tarmac of a runway, seeing more than thirty vehicles sitting dark and empty. It took several attempts before he found the right access road to reach them. Turning into the lot, he shut off the burbling engine and spent a minute listening to the silence outside the cab before popping his door open.
Igor immediately headed to a Corvette, looking back at Strickland as he smiled and pointed. Tempting as it was, the SEAL shook his head. The last thing he needed was to have to rely on a temperamental high-performance car with the ground clearance of a pregnant turtle.
Instead, he walked over to a fairly new Toyota SUV. It wouldn’t be near as much fun as the Vette, but it was a hell of a lot more practical for his needs. With a sigh, Igor joined him and quickly walked around the vehicle.
“Tire good,” Igor said.
Strickland nodded and pressed his face against the driver’s window to peer inside. He’d heard stories about people opening abandoned vehicles to be surprised by an infected that had been trapped inside. Fortunately, this one was empty.
“Need tool,” Igor said.
Strickland looked around and pointed at a hangar near the flight line. Its pair of doors were slightly open, a gap between them large enough to slip through. Getting back in the truck, they drove the short distance and he parked facing the opening.
“Gotta be quick,” he said. “Don’t want the lights on very long.”
Igor nodded and jumped out as Strickland flicked the switch. For a moment, he stared through the gap in incomprehension. Behind him, Irina took a sharp breath.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed.
“Igor, get in!” Strickland shouted. “Get in the fucking truck!”
Igor didn’t hesitate to run back to the door and leap aboard. When he could see into the hangar, he froze in shock. Hundreds of infected females stared back at them, each with a baby held protectively on her hip. For a time, all three of them were unable to speak or move.
“Just like Las Vegas,” Irina said so quietly Strickland wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.
“What?”
“We have seen this before. In Las Vegas.”
“Da,” Igor said, then turned to Strickland. “Go! Get away!”
His words galvanized the SEAL who hit the throttle and roared through a screeching turn. He slowed to go back into the parking area but Irina stopped him.
“They have called for others,” she said. “We must go before we are overrun.”
“Called others? They weren’t screaming.”
“They have a way,” Irina assured him. “I have seen it. We must get away.”
Strickland looked at her in the mirror, noting the sincerity in her eyes. With a nod, he accelerated for the main exit.
Before they could pass through the open gate, females began appearing at the limit of the headlight’s reach. Only a few to start, charging in at a full sprint, but more were right behind them. Strickland glanced at the speedometer then lowered their speed before the first body impacted the front of the Ford.
Jaw clenched, he gripped the wheel tightly and kept the power on as they pushed through the steadily growing mass of infected bodies. They were almost through the gate and could see clear ground beyond the tightly massed females. Strickland resisted the urge to feed in more power and batter his way through as quickly as possible. So far, the truck was holding its own and there was no need to risk damaging it.
Tires spun occasionally as the asphalt grew slick from spilled blood and body fluids. Strickland pressed a button on the dash, engaging the four-wheel drive system and the tires stopped slipping. They bulled through the gate, then he had room to begin steering away from the densest concentrations of bodies.
“Almost there,” he said, more to himself than his two passengers.
37
“What was that all about?”
I’d returned to the room, gently kissing Rachel’s forehead and putting the bottle of pills on a table.
“He’s worried about your stress levels.”
“Kind of hard to not stress out when I think there’s a nuclear bomb about to be dropped on my head, then our daughter gets kidnapped. Thank Go
d for Colonel Chapman!”
I smiled as I sat down on the edge of her mattress.
“Notice that?”
“What?”
“We’re calling her our daughter.”
“Guess she is. Now. How is she?”
“Seems fine,” I said. “The Admiral’s babysitting and Dog’s with her.”
“What happened with you?”
I filled her in on what had transpired after she’d left for the hospital.
“I was hoping you’d put a bullet in that cunt’s head.”
“Language,” I said with a grin.
“Not when it comes to people who fuck with my family,” she said, giving me a look. “How’s Joe?”
Oh, shit! With everything, I’d completely forgotten about him.
“Don’t know, but I need to find out. You okay for a few minutes?”
“Go!”
I gave her a kiss then hurried out of the room, heading for the reception desk. The hall was still packed with cops and I weaved my way through to speak with Officer Tuitama’s cousin. She was overwhelmed with work but banged away on a keyboard when I asked about my friend.
“He’s in surgery,” she said, reading from her computer screen.
“How bad?”
“Sorry. Doesn’t tell me anything more,” she said, then turned to help another patient.
I started to head back to Rachel’s room, but a sudden change in the buzz of conversation caused me to look around. All of the cops, who had been talking in low voices, were gathering around a large television mounted on the wall. Curious, I pushed into the back of the group, staring in shock when I saw Barinov at a podium, flanked by a pair of old Soviet Union hammer and sickle flags.
Oh, fuck! There was absolutely nothing good that could come of this. Digging out my phone, I dialed the Admiral’s private number.
“You watching the television?” I asked when he picked up.
“Just turned it on. You’d better get back here. This can’t be good.”
“Agreed, sir. See you soon.”
I disconnected as I raced down the hall and dialed another number. The Marine saw me coming, concern creasing his forehead as he stepped out of my way.