Deadly Strain (Biological Response Team)

by Julie Rowe

  Sharp took a seat on an adjacent couch, put his rifle butt down on the rough wooden floor and let out a sigh. “From Cutter.”

  The man tilted his head to one side. “I thought you said you were looking for Cutter?”

  “I lied. He’s in the helicopter.”

  The man stared at Sharp, his gaze hard and unrelenting. “Why isn’t he here with us?”

  “Because he’s dead.”

  “His body is in the helicopter?” The question was asked with an edge sharp enough to flay skin off bone. “How did he die?”

  “Friendly fire.” Sharp didn’t want to explain further, but was prepared to give what information he could.

  The man was on his feet, out the front door and yelling in Dari to the two teens who were still outside, to get their asses back. He turned to Sharp. “You will have his body brought here. Now.”

  Sharp nodded at Hernandez, who went out with Clark. Smoke, Runnel and March stayed right where they were next to Grace. She was standing a couple of feet away from the odd collection of seating around the hookah.

  The man marched up to Sharp and demanded, “Explain his death to me.”

  Like that was going to happen. “Are you his friend from university?”

  “Why should I tell you anything?”

  “Because he was my commander and my friend,” Sharp snarled, taking a step toward the other man. “And the only way I can be sure the man responsible is going to pay is with help.”

  “Who’s responsible?”

  Sharp shook his head. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but so far Colonel Marshall, FOB Bostick, is on the top of my suspect list.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

  “We’re—”

  “No. You. Who are you?”

  “I’m...” About to say his name, he realized the guy wasn’t looking for that either. He wanted to know who Sharp was to Cutter. “...a sniper. Everyone calls me Sharp.”

  The man rocked back on his feet. He looked at Smoke, who stared at him with his pale blue eyes, in a face carrying the strong bones of his Navajo ancestors.

  Hernandez and Clark came in with Cutter’s body and laid it carefully on the floor.

  The man studied them carefully, then moved on to Grace.

  As soon as CIA’s gaze landed on her, Sharp asked, “You know of us, yes?”

  The man pulled his gaze off Grace a little too slowly for Sharp’s piece of mind. “Most of you, yes. Who is this?” He pointed at Grace.

  Sharp went with the truth. “New team member.”

  The man narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “My name is Aaron Jamal and Cutter is...was one of my best friends.”

  “I didn’t know CIA agents had friends,” Hernandez said.

  Jamal glanced at the body on the floor. “Well, I have one less.” He looked at Sharp. “Can we speak plainly now? What do you want?”

  “Aviation fuel.”

  “For your helicopter?” Jamal shook his head. “Impossible.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grace peeked over the top of the backpack at Sharp’s unhappy expression. He was either going to argue with Cutter’s friend or he was going to force the issue. Neither was going to improve their situation.

  She must have made a noise because both men turned to look at her, but before anyone could say anything the two teen boys came back in with a bucket full of water and a radio squawking with a man’s voice in Dari.

  Everyone in the room besides her must speak the language because they all froze, then tensed.

  Cutter’s friend glared at Sharp, then yelled at the two teens, gesturing with his hands at them.

  They rushed out again.

  “Thank you,” Sharp said to him.

  “I’m not doing it for you,” Jamal said.

  Doing what? Grace could only watch the faces of the men around her for a clue as to what was going on. None of it looked good.

  “I’m doing it to save my own skin and the skin of the people living here.” Jamal glared at everyone, but seemed to stare a little longer at her. “What trouble have you brought with you?”

  “Fuel us up and we’re out of here,” Sharp suggested softly. “The danger’s gone.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Jamal said, pacing away. “Aviation fuel is hard to get. I don’t have a lot and what I do have is spoken for.” He turned and paced back toward Sharp. He stopped suddenly and pointed at her. “Who or what is that?”

  “A team member.”

  “I’ve never met a Green Beret who hid behind a bag.”

  Yeah, hiding behind a backpack never was much of plan. She sighed, leaned over and put it on the floor.

  Sharp’s gaze jerked in her direction. His eyes narrow and jaw clenched, he shook his head, but it was already too late.

  Jamal stared at her like he couldn’t believe his eyes. If she thought he looked angry before, he looked furious now.

  Wonderful, Sharp looked ready to strangle her, and the only person who could help them was about to shout and call names and probably order them to leave.

  But they still needed his help.

  “I’m a doctor,” she said calmly, pulling the cloak of her profession around her, letting it straighten her back and lift her chin. “An infectious disease specialist.”

  At her words, Jamal paused, confusion joining the anger on his face. She could almost see the thoughts playing through his head. “What is that to me?”

  “A great deal.”

  “Grace,” Sharp growled. He took a step toward her.

  “He needs to know,” she argued softly. “He might even be able to give us good advice regarding our next steps.”

  “What is it you think I need to know?” Jamal asked crossing his arms over his chest.

  Grace glanced at Sharp, and though his nostrils flared and he grit his teeth, he nodded once.

  “Approximately two days ago,” Grace began, “someone released weaponized anthrax on a small village near the Afghan/Pakistan border. Everyone, every single person in that village was dead less than a day later.”

  Jamal’s jaw dropped open.

  “The strain kills incredibly quickly, like nothing I’ve ever seen. This was not an accident. Someone designed, weaponized and tested this strain for a purpose.” She paused for a moment. “That someone has managed to sabotage our efforts to get this strain to a lab where it can be properly identified and a treatment plan created.”

  “What?” Jamal’s hands fluttered about aimlessly. “Why are you here? I don’t understand how I—”

  She held up the sample container. “We need fuel to leave, or a safe place to hide.”

  Jamal stared at the package like she was holding an armed nuclear bomb. “A...a bounty has been placed on all of you,” he stuttered. “One million American dollars. You can’t stay here.” He backed away, closer to Sharp. “The boys have covered your aircraft with tarps, but this compound is frequented by several different parties. Some of them hostile to Americans.” He swallowed hard, still staring at Grace like she was the grim reaper. “I would give you the fuel, but it’s been paid for and the people who bought it are not ones to cross.” He stared at his feet for a moment. “I can hide you, at least for the time being.”

  “Thank you,” Sharp said in a tone so devoid of emotion, she knew he was furious.

  “Wait here.” Jamal scurried out, casting frightened looks over his shoulder.

  “What?” Grace asked the guys. “Do I glow in the dark or something now?”

  “Nah,” Hernandez said. “You looked pretty serious and tough telling him all that stuff, though.”

  “His advice sucked,” Clark said. “He didn’t give us any new ideas. I thought dudes in his line of work were good at that.
”

  “I doubt he’s had a container full of a deadly organism displayed in his...” Grace glanced around the building. “Store before.”

  “You did cut through the normal bullshit in record time,” Sharp said. “Maybe I should let you do all the talking from now on.” The words should have sounded complimentary, but his tone hadn’t changed.

  She was so tired of male bullshit. “He needed to know,” she told him though gritted teeth. “How can we expect him to help us if we don’t share all the information?”

  “I didn’t stop you, did I?”

  “No, but you sure didn’t like it and you made that very clear.” She wished she could wipe the intractable expression off his face. “There’s protective and then there’s getting in the way of me doing my job.”

  His brows rose.

  Jamal came back inside, a cell phone at his ear. He nodded as he listened, then hung up without saying a word. “I’ve received instructions to hide you. The doctor and the container are not to leave this compound.”

  Sharp pointed at the sample container. “We have to get that stuff to a lab.”

  “The lab, with military support, is coming here, but...” He held up a hand. “I have to keep you completely out of sight. There are too many people looking for you. At least five different groups are hunting you now and all of them want what she’s carrying.”

  “So maybe we should keep on the move,” Hernandez suggested.

  “No, you don’t understand. These are dangerous men, insurgents, extremists and even terrorists from all over this part of the world. They want the container...and the doctor.”

  Someone swore, Grace wasn’t sure who.

  No, oh no. She wouldn’t last long in the hands of any the men Jamal described. She’d rather die.

  “If you run, they will force you to land, then they will kill you, and take the doctor and the anthrax,” Jamal continued. “Your only hope is to hide.”

  “What about the helicopter?” Hernandez asked. “It’s too big to hide.”

  “I’m going to say you landed and took one of my trucks in exchange for the helicopter.”

  “Finally,” Clark said. “Some useful advice.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, taking a truck,” Runnel said. “Maybe we should do that?”

  Sharp shook his head. “We’d be an easy target on the ground.” He turned to Jamal. “But if we’re going to hide, it needs to be a really good place.”

  “Yes, yes, I have the perfect spot.” He rushed to the other side of the building, calling, “Come, come.”

  Hernandez took point while everyone else followed with Sharp covering their rear. Grace glanced at him with a questioning look.

  His answer was a shrug, but the lingering traces of anger on his face told her he’d have a few not-fun words to say to her as soon as there were fewer ears to listen in.

  Yes, she’d tipped their hand to Jamal before he was ready, but things were moving so fast, there wasn’t time for all the normal testosterone-fueled male posturing.

  Jamal brought them to the back wall of the building and cleared away several piles of parts, plumbing, electronics and other stuff until he revealed a wood floor. He pulled up one end to reveal a set of steep stairs. “A bunker,” he said.

  “Is this the only way in?” Sharp asked.

  “No there’s another exit some distance away from the compound on the other side of these hills. It overlooks a deep ravine and is meant as an escape for me if things go very bad.”

  Hernandez snorted as he went down the stairs and into the darkness. “Yeah, I suppose we qualify as very bad.”

  Grace moved to follow him, but Sharp held her back. After a few seconds, Hernandez called out, “All clear.”

  Sharp took his hand off her shoulder and she descended into the dark.

  At first she couldn’t see much, but as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, after a few seconds she was able to make out the shape of the walls and floor. The tunnel was surprisingly roomy, and she could almost stand up in it. The Berets were all going to have to bend over, but at least no one had to crawl. It went forward for some distance and had a variety of odds and ends lining the walls. Pieces of wood, tools, and even weapons.

  She followed Hernandez with Clark and Smoke right behind her. Clark touched her shoulder and moved past her to take the position behind Hernandez. About a minute of walking later, both men stopped and picked something up off the ground. She craned her neck around them to see what had caught their attention.

  A tidy pile of grenades.

  “Are you two paying cash for those or putting it on credit?” she asked.

  “What are you talking about, Doc?” Hernandez asked. “We just gave that guy a helicopter. We’ve got plenty of credit.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Sharp’s voice floated past them and the guys got moving again.

  Behind them, there were a couple of bangs as the cover to the entrance was put back in place and the tunnel got much darker. The men wearing helmets turned on their lights.

  No one said anything for a long time as they kept moving through the tunnel. Grace found herself getting drowsy, the lack of sleep catching up to her in a big way. She blinked her eyes to keep them open, but she was afraid that as soon as they came to a stop she was going to want to crash.

  She stumbled and Smoke put his hand under her arm to help her up. “Doc?”

  It was amazing to her how much the man could ask with one word. “I’m okay, just really, really tired.”

  Ahead of her Hernandez and Clark had stopped moving and were looking at her with concern on their faces.

  “Doc,” Smoke said. “You can sleep soon.”

  “Sounds good.” She smiled at Smoke and patted him on the hand holding her up. When Hernandez and Clark advanced down the tunnel again, she followed, putting her hands on the walls to help keep herself from tripping.

  After another five minutes or so, light filtered its way into the tunnel from somewhere up ahead. The men in front of her suddenly stopped and crouched down on the floor, with Clark holding up a closed fist.

  She knelt before anyone had to tell her to and waited while the men traded more hand signals back and forth. After a moment a decision seemed to have been made, as Smoke slipped past her and Clark.

  Sharp came up behind her and whispered in that oddly dead tone that didn’t carry more than a couple of inches in her ear. “The tunnel ends not far ahead. They’re checking to make sure it’s clear.”

  She nodded.

  And waited.

  Finally, Clark got out of his crouch and waved at her, March, Runnel and Sharp. They walked slowly into an open room that had probably started as a cave, but had been enlarged and shaped by man. Some of the walls had stones laid in them, forming benches and shelves, along with alcoves for storage. Near the far end of the room was a well. The light came from past it, filtered as if it had to travel through an obstacle course.

  Hernandez came toward them from beyond the well. “The exit is camouflaged, but useable.”

  “Camouflaged as what?” Sharp asked.

  “A garbage dump.”

  Grace’s tired mind could hardly string two thoughts together, but hiding in a dump seemed oddly appropriate. “Sounds like home to me,” she said plunking herself down on one of the stone benches.

  “Anyone around?” Sharp asked.

  “Nope. We’re outside of the compound and the exit opens out onto a steep slope. It’s covered by lots of old timber, rusted metal car parts, scrub brush and debris the wind has deposited. Nothing useable.”

  “Does it look like it’s been disturbed recently?”

  “No. I’d say we’re good in here, for now at least.”

  “Did you find a bathroom out there?” Grace asked.

&nb
sp; Hernandez grinned at her. “Yep, it’s a little old-fashioned, ah...I don’t think there’s any toilet paper, but—” he angled his thumb over his shoulder “—head left before the exit.”

  “The doc and I need to rest,” Sharp said, his voice tired. “You guys set up rotating watches, one for each entrance.”

  “You got it, boss.” The men broke up into two groups, Smoke, Runnel and Clark hunkered down while Hernandez went back down the dark tunnel toward the compound and March moved to keep watch on the garbage dump exit.

  Sharp knelt down next to her and she had to refrain from asking to use him as a warm blanket. “Time to crash, Doc. Keep all your gear on in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

  “I need to use the little girl’s room.”

  “Okay, just be careful and quiet.”

  Like she didn’t know that.

  Grace got to her feet, leaving the sample container where it was resting on the stone bench, and walked past the well, looking for this rustic bathroom.

  It was a hole in the dirt floor.

  She stared at the urine and fecal stains all around the hole and swallowed a mouthful of bile.

  This obviously wasn’t the ladies’ room.

  She pulled a biodegradable tissue from one of the pockets on her pants legs, pulled down her pants and squatted over the hole. As she pulled her pants up, she caught herself falling forward.

  Get yourself horizontal.

  Grace pulled up her pants and stumbled her way back to where she’d left her pack and sample container. Sharp was sitting next to her stuff, drinking some water. He held out the bottle and she swallowed three times.

  “I have to sleep now,” she mumbled to him as she handed the water back and crawled a few more inches to collapse on the floor.

  “Not there, Doc.” Sharp’s hands slipped under her shoulders and pulled her forward. God, they felt good. Too bad they weren’t alone. “How about here?” He let her collapse on the ground, only it wasn’t as hard as it should be. It was lumpy and...

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sharp watched sleep take Grace between one second and the next.