by Patton, Dirk
“Then what the bloody hell do we do?”
We all looked up to see Ziggy standing in the kitchen door, holding her youngest, Little John.
“Well? John.” She pinned me to the spot with her eyes. “I’m sure as shite not losing my husband! You need to do something!”
16
Rachel had finished closing all of Lucas’s wounds that warranted stitches. Frankly, he looked a little like one of those patchwork quilts, but at least he was no longer losing blood. I wished for a camera to take a pic of him, even though I was worried about my friend.
The majority of his stitches had been done with sewing thread and Rachel hadn’t been concerned with what color she was grabbing. As a result, he looked like a rainbow version of a freakshow monster, pieced together with everything from white to hot pink and plenty of green thread thrown in for good measure.
Smyth and I had moved him to the sofa and a large IV bag of saline and antibiotics was connected. Rachel stood over him, bandages in hand.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when she continued to stand there.
“I don’t know how to bandage him,” she said. “There’s so much damage, there’s no clear skin for tape to hold the gauze in place.”
“Maybe just a clean sheet over him?” I suggested.
“All we can do.”
She turned to ask, but Ziggy was already hurrying to a linen closet. As she tenderly covered her husband’s body, I pulled Rachel aside.
“No bullshit. How is he.”
“Not good,” Rachel said after glancing to make sure Ziggy wasn’t paying attention to us. “That much damage would have already killed a weaker man. It’s just a tremendous amount of trauma for the body to absorb. There was a lot of blood loss. A lot. And even with the transfusion he’s still got to recover from that. But, more likely than not, an infection I can’t control is going to set in.”
“You mean rabies?” I whispered.
“No. Yes, that’s a very serious concern, but not what I’m talking about. All the wounds. Teeth and claws. Bacteria was deposited deep into his tissues and there’s no way to clean all of that out. The body has to be strong enough to fight it, even with the help of antibiotics, and we’ve only got one more dose for the next bag of saline.”
I nodded, understanding what she was saying. In modern times we’ve lost the awareness and fear of just what a simple bacterial infection can do and how fast it can do it.
“So, we need antibiotics and something in case of rabies.”
She nodded, then moved closer and spoke softly to ensure there was no chance of Ziggy overhearing.
“Even then, I don’t know if it will be enough. Frankly, his best chance is if your blood passes on something that will strengthen his immune system.”
“Is that likely?”
“I’ve got no fucking idea,” she said tiredly, shaking her head. “All I know is it’s very unlikely he’ll survive without some very high dose antibiotics and a rabies treatment.”
I stood there staring at Lucas’s unconscious form as Ziggy fussed over him. Didn’t know what to say. Then anger from feeling helpless bubbled up.
“Write down what you need,” I growled.
“You can’t go out there!” Rachel said, grabbing my arm.
“I made it in without a scratch. Maybe it was the fire, but I don’t think so.”
Rachel looked at me for a long beat, staring into my red eyes.
“You think they didn’t attack you…”
“They could have,” I interrupted. “They’d come within inches, then veer away. I’m his best chance.”
I was primed. Ready to go and take the risk. Then I remembered the herd that was passing through. I knew damn well from experience that infected humans would attack me on sight, but would larger wildlife come after me or would it give me a pass like the bats seemingly had? Rachel saw the change and frowned a question.
“Herd of infected wildlife passing through,” I said. “Remember the hogs in Arkansas? Well, here it’s kangaroos.”
“What? Are you serious?” Rachel asked in surprise.
I nodded then shrugged my shoulders.
“We spotted them from the air. Thought they might run the bats off, but they must be going around them,” I said, flicking a curtain aside and taking a peak at the solid mass of writhing bodies pressed against the window.
She looked at me and gave Lucas a quick glance before letting out a soft sigh.
“Okay. I can maybe keep an infection at bay for twelve hours. That’s when I run out of IV antibiotics. And that’s not even taking the likelihood of rabies into account. If we can’t get out of here, then we need to find someone that can bring what we need.”
She held my eyes for a moment to emphasize the gravity of her words. I nodded and squeezed her hand as I moved past to find Smyth.
“We were calling every bloke we know when he was trying to get out of Sydney,” Smyth said after I finished explaining the situation to him. “No one pickin’ up, or the call just isn’t goin’ through.”
“Goddamn it,” I grumbled in frustration.
“Besides,” Smyth continued. “Sat phone don’t work inside. Who’s goin’ out there with the wee beasties?”
I shook my head, looking around in frustration and hoping for an epiphany to strike.
“Is there a hospital in Coober Pedy?”
“Aye. Little one, but there is.”
“You know you can’t go out there.”
Rachel had drifted over to listen to our conversation.
“I’m not letting Lucas die,” I said, watching his wife and kids gathered around him. “Lost too many already.”
“Let’s assume you can actually get there,” Rachel said, crossing her arms and staring at me. “I can tell you what to get to fight off an infection, but I don’t have a clue how to treat for rabies exposure.”
“Then we need to call someone,” I said.
“You daft, mate? All we’ve got is a sat phone and it don’t work inside,” Smyth said.
“Go find me an extension cord.”
“A bloody extension cord? For what?”
“Just do it,” I said.
Shaking his head and almost certainly sure I’d lost whatever brains I’d once had, Smyth headed off to search for what I needed.
“What are you up to?” Rachel asked.
“Joe’s a virologist. Right? So, he should be able to tell you what you need to treat for rabies, or at least look it up. Right?”
“Yes. He should,” she acknowledged. “But that still doesn’t help you find a way to get to the hospital.”
“Working on that,” I said.
She looked at me like I was off my rocker, then moved close and wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her face against my chest.
“I’m sorry about before,” she said, voice muffled.
“Me, too,” I said, holding her tight.
We held each other in silence.
“How are we going to get to Hawaii?” she asked, lifting her head to look at me.
“Don’t know, babe. One thing at a time. First, I’ve gotta get what we need to save Lucas. Once he’s okay, we’ll worry about Hawaii.”
I could tell she wasn’t thrilled with my answer, but she accepted it.
“Here you go, mate.”
Smyth had returned with a long extension cord in his hand.
“Cut the ends off,” I said, reluctantly releasing my hold on Rachel. “Give me about three feet of exposed copper wire on one end and a foot on the other.”
He looked at me for a beat with a frown. Seems everyone was thinking I’d lost it.
“Whatever you say, gov’na.”
Once he’d done as I asked, I took the end with the greater amount of exposed wire and walked to where the fan was attached to the pipe. Peeling back some duct tape to expose the opening, I fed the cord in and kept pushing until I could tell by feel that it was dangling in the open air above the roof.
“Bl
oody smart Yank,” Smyth grudgingly acknowledged when I wrapped the other end around the Sat phone’s antenna. “But will it work?”
“Only one way to find out,” I said, pressing the power button.
17
Captain Black stepped out of the small convertible he’d rented an hour ago. It was evening in downtown Honolulu and despite everything that had happened in and to the world, there were a lot of people who still wanted to party and drink. Many of them were tourists who had been in the islands on vacation when the attacks occurred but there were just as many locals.
Drinking was a whole different matter than what it had once been. Hawaii had produced very little of what it consumed prior to the attacks, especially alcohol. The stocks of liquor had quickly been depleted with the exception of a few entrepreneurs who had squirreled away bottles of top shelf booze. With drinks being made from whatever fermented beverage the clubs could obtain, bottles of Jack Daniels or Jose Cuervo were now worth more than their weight in gold.
Black, dressed in civilian clothes, made his way from where he’d left the red sports car down an alley to the entrance of one of dozens of underground clubs that had sprung up to serve the wildly diverse tastes of the population of the island. But he wasn’t here for pleasure. With pounding music, this was the one location the Russian woman frequented where it would be difficult, if not impossible to surveil her conversations.
A year ago, a club in this part of Honolulu would have been guarded by beefy bouncers and a velvet rope. Only the most famous, attractive and well dressed, or those with a fistful of cash, would have been admitted. Those days were gone with one or two exceptions. There was too much competition and people no longer had the time or resources to ensure they fit the mold to gain entrance.
Twenty feet from the plain steel door, Black could feel the pounding bass of the club’s sound system pulsing in his chest. When he stepped inside the volume of the music was like a physical force that tried to push him back.
It was dark and a haze of cigarette and marijuana smoke hovered over a dance floor full of people of all ages. Moving ahead confidently, he pushed through the mass of sweaty bodies to the bar where he held a screamed conversation with the bartender. He wasn’t sure what the drink he wound up with was called, but it smelled like pineapple and was strong enough to strip paint off a battleship’s hull.
Before he could take a second sip, a hand gripped his ass and squeezed. Spinning around, ready to take the head off whoever had just groped him, he stopped in surprise to see the Russian woman smiling at him. In her left hand was a drink and a smoldering cigarette. With her right, she grabbed the waistband of his pants and pulled him close, rising up on her toes to shout in his ear.
“Come with me!”
He nodded, but she had already turned away, leading him through the crush of bodies while maintaining a firm grip on his pants. The presence of her hand, where it was, was more than disconcerting but he made himself follow her lead for the moment.
Circling around the dance floor, she writhed in time to the music as she walked. She wore a simple shift for a dress that exposed her back to just above the swell of her hips and ended well above her knees. Impossibly high stilettos were on her feet, but she moved gracefully as she slithered her way through openings in the crowd.
Turning into a dark hall, they passed several women heading back toward the main area, then she pushed through the door to the women’s restroom. Black hesitated, but she pulled hard. Before he could even think, he was through the door and looking around in surprise.
The music volume inside the restroom was only slightly muted. Half a dozen women stood at a long vanity, checking their hair and makeup in a fogged mirror. Others were adjusting clothing. None of them so much as glanced in his direction or seemed concerned in the least about a male coming inside.
The woman led him down a row of stalls, turning into an open one and pulling him in with her. Releasing her grip, she slammed the door and shot home a lock, then pushed on his shoulders until he was seated on the toilet. Raising her left leg, she placed her foot on the toilet seat between his, shifted her hips to the left and leaned down to place her face next to his.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed, no longer smiling.
Black was taken aback. He was a Marine, not some secret agent type who could play games like this. From the moment she’d grabbed his ass, she’d been in control and he had been going along because he didn’t know what else to do.
“What?”
“Are you trying to get me killed you idiot?”
“No. No! I listened to the files you gave me. I need to know what else is happening.”
“By coming here? You fool, do you not know who owns this club?”
Black shook his head.
“Mafiya. And Barinov owns them. Nothing happens here that the SVR does not know about!”
“Then why are we in the bathroom?”
“If I am to survive the night, it must look like what I just made it look. I’m seducing a Soldier.”
“Marine.”
Black automatically corrected her.
“Whatever.”
She glanced over her shoulder, weaving slightly for a view through the crack where the stall door didn’t quite meet up with the frame. She moved herself more to the side and Black realized she was blocking the sightline of anyone who tried to peer through.
“We need to know what you know,” Black persisted when she turned back to face him.
“And I already told you I have given you everything I have.”
“But not what you know.”
They glared at each other, their facial expressions incongruous with their positions and proximity to each other. Her head snapped around when the restroom door banged open. From under the stall door, Black could see several sets of women’s feet suddenly turn and hurry away. The woman turned back to him, real fear on her face.
Reaching out, she tore at his belt. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away.
“Your pants,” she hissed in his ear. “Pull them down. Now!”
“Lady, you’re crazy!”
Still holding her wrists, Black started to stand but she threw herself forward, straddling him like a lover. The dress was pushed above her hips and he released her in shock. She immediately threw her arms around his neck.
“They are checking,” she said, the fear in her voice palpable. “Please. Open your pants and play along.”
Black briefly considered shoving her away and letting her face whatever consequences came her way from the SVR. But the terror in her eyes was something real and it got through to him. Reaching down between their bodies, he released his belt and the top button of his jeans.
The woman grabbed the zipper and yanked it down, shoving her hand inside his pants as the stall door was slammed open. Two bulky men dressed in expensive suits stood there, leering. She turned, shifting so they could clearly see where her hand was. Black stared back, for a beat unsure how to react.
“What the fuck, dude?” he shouted at the men after a long moment.
They stared at him, then one chuckled and walked away. The smaller of the two paused, gave him a wink and mimed stroking himself over the woman’s back before following his friend. Something was exchanged in Russian that made both laugh before leaving the restroom.
Black and the woman didn’t move, listening to see if they were coming back. After nearly half a minute, the woman removed her hand, climbed off his lap and tugged her dress below her hips. He stood and buttoned up, looking around to see if they were alone.
“I still need you to talk to me,” he said after ensuring they were alone.
“We will have plenty of time for that,” she said, still adjusting the dress. “You are coming home with me.”
“What? Like hell I am.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“I was working. I am always working. You have interjected yourself into something you know not
hing about. Now that I have been seen with you, you will be identified. If they do not know who you are already, they will soon. And I am going to have to document that we met, because they will. Otherwise…”
“I don’t understand. Why do I have to come with you?”
“Because you have put my life in danger. And because I said so!”
18
Using the extension cord to boost the sat phone’s antenna worked perfectly. When the device finished its boot cycle, it quickly locked onto a signal and showed a full-strength connection. Glad that I’d finally memorized Jessica’s number, I punched it in and waited for the call to go through.
“Hello?”
Her voice was hesitant, as if she were almost afraid of who might be calling her.
“Everything okay, Chief?” I asked, trying to be a little circumspect in case I’d caught her at an inconvenient moment.
“Sir!” The relief in her voice came through loud and clear. “Glad you made it out!”
“Me too, and as usual I have you to thank for making it all come together.”
“Just doing my job, sir,” she said, trying to pass off my compliment but I could tell she was pleased by my words.
“I need to talk to Joe Revard. Think you can track him down for me?”
There was a beat of silence before she responded.
“I forgot. You don’t know.”
All enthusiasm at speaking with me had evaporated.
“Don’t know what? What happened?”
Another stretch without anything from her, then she sighed deeply.
“Hold on, sir. Captain West wants to speak with you.”
I frowned, then had to shrug my shoulders when Rachel stuck her face in front of me with her eyebrows raised inquisitively.
“Major.” West’s voice came over the phone a moment later.
“Sir.”
“Are you aware that Admiral Packard was attacked and grievously injured?”
“Yes, sir. Do you know who’s behind it?”
“The investigation is ongoing.”
There was something in his tone that caught my attention. I almost asked another, more pointed question but remembered we weren’t on a secure line. Anyone with the right equipment, us or the Russians, could be listening to every word.