V Plague (Book 17): Abaddon

by Patton, Dirk

  We looked at him and I had to acknowledge he had a good point. Life was hard and going to get harder no matter where you were. Why leave your home if you didn’t have to? Struggling to survive in one place is pretty much the same as any other.

  “Your choice,” I said. “We’re going, and if you want to come you’re welcome to join us. Same for all of you. Just be sure you know what you’re doing because this will probably be the last ride out of Australia for a long time, if not forever. From what I’ve heard and seen, there’s nothing left here. Maybe a few more pockets of survivors scattered around the outback, but your cities are gone. Medicine is going to start expiring, as well as about everything else. At least in America there’s enough population remaining to begin rebuilding.”

  He nodded as I spoke, but I knew he was only conceding my point, not agreeing to come with us.

  “We’re going with them!”

  We turned to see Ziggy, little John on her hip. She was staring directly at Smyth.

  “Are you sure that’s what Lucas would want?” Smyth asked.

  “I don’t give a bloody damn what Lucas does or doesn’t want!” she snapped. “I want my husband, not some red-eyed freak. And there are doctors in America that might be able to help. You want to stay, you’re welcome to the house.”

  “Yes, mum,” Smyth said in a subdued tone, unable to meet her eyes. “Guess me and the lads will be coming, too. Been with Lucas too long to walk away now.”

  For my part, the ‘red-eyed freak’ comment had surprisingly cut to the bone. I looked at Rachel who couldn’t meet my eyes. Her reaction spoke volumes.

  “We should get on the road,” I said, turning to head back to the truck.

  “John,” Ziggy said, placing her hand on my arm to stop me.

  I didn’t want to look at her. Didn’t want her to see my eyes and be reminded of who was to blame for her husband looking like a monster.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, moving directly in front of me and looking up into my face. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. You saved his life. Probably saved all of us. I know that and will be forever grateful.”

  I looked at her, at a complete loss for words. I didn’t need or want her gratitude. I just wanted... fuck. I don’t even know what I wanted at that moment.

  “Heeeeey, guys...”

  Mavis and Dog stood a few yards away. She was looking over their heads, toward the south. Turning in the direction she was staring, a thrill of concern passed over me when I saw the towering wall of dust that obscured the entire horizon.

  “Bloody hell,” Smyth breathed.

  “That normal?” I asked, trying to gauge how far away the storm was.

  “Not seen nothin’ like that since Iraq,” he said.

  As we watched, lightning flashed within the massive wave of red dust that stretched as far across the horizon as I could see.

  “Mavis, get the sat phone out of the truck,” I called, eyes still glued to the storm.

  I heard her run to the cab, then the door slammed and she appeared next to me with Dog pushing in between us. Taking the handset, I hit the only programmed speed dial button and waited for an answer.

  “Hold on, sir,” Lieutenant Hunt, Jessica’s CO said when he picked up Jessica’s line.

  I listened to a few clicks and buzzes, then he was back.

  “Sorry, sir. Making sure we’re encrypted on my end.”

  “Chief taking a vacation?”

  “She’s on a temporary assignment, sir. Anything I can help you with?”

  I frowned, struggling to imagine what Jessica could be doing that would have her away from her terminal, but didn’t know her CO well enough to start asking questions. Before I could continue, there was the sound of hard shoes on a floor then a click that sounded like a door being closed.

  “I’m in my office, now,” Hunt whispered. “Some things you need to know.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Captain West has been arrested and they’re looking for Captain Black. I know Captain West was dispatching a flight to Australia, but I have no way of knowing if that order has been countermanded. I can’t go look in the system. Don’t want to draw any attention. Sorry.”

  “What? What was he arrested for?”

  “Official word is subversion, but I think it’s all bullshit.”

  He whispered the last. I stood there, momentarily stunned. Apparently, things in Hawaii were much worse than I’d realized.

  “We probably shouldn’t be discussing this any further, just in case.”

  “Agreed, sir,” he said, sounding relieved.

  “I’m on my way to the RP,” I continued, meaning rendezvous point. “But I’ve got a problem. Looked at Australia lately?”

  There was the rapid clacking of keys and I could hear him softly breathing, then, “Whoa!”

  “Understatement of the day,” I said.

  “Sorry, sir. That’s a hell of a storm!”

  “No shit. How bad?”

  “Bad. Eighty kilometers south of your current position.”

  “Eighty? And I can see it already? Just how big is this damn storm?”

  “It’s huge and it’s growing. I’ve tracked haboobs before in Iraq and Syria. This is way bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. The top is over sixty-thousand feet!” More clacking from his keyboard. “Slightly over three hundred kilometers wide and nearly sixty deep. And there’s no going around it. No roads. No nothing. Just empty desert.”

  “What’s behind it? Thunderstorms?”

  I’d lived in Arizona for a long time. Haboobs were all too common but there was almost always a violent thunderstorm at the rear, driving it forward.

  “Solid clouds. I’m seeing lots of lightning and I’m guessing it’s pouring rain. Thermal can’t penetrate the top layer so they must be full of moisture.”

  Just fucking great.

  “How big an area?”

  “All the way to the coast, and beyond. Clouds over most of the southern portion of the continent.”

  “Where’s it headed?”

  He was quiet for a few moments.

  “To the north at about twenty kilometers an hour.”

  “Will it miss my location?”

  “Not even close,” he said. “I don’t think it’s going to miss anything. You definitely want to find some shelter.”

  “What about the herd that was moving through? Is the house safe?”

  There were a few moments of clicking before he responded.

  “No, sir. I can’t tell you why, but they seem to have stalled out in the area. You can’t go back. And there’s some small groups only a few kilometers northeast of your present location. You should probably move pretty soon.”

  I was quiet for a moment, staring at the storm front. Well, fuck me, I thought to myself. Why did I ever expect anything to be easy?

  Rachel was antsy, moving in front of me and gesturing at the phone. I nodded to let her know I understood.

  “Lieutenant, I’m handing the phone to Rachel. She needs to speak to Joe Revard. Can you make that happen?”

  “I’ll try, sir. And, good luck.”

  I thanked him and passed the handset to Rachel. While she waited for the call to be rerouted, I herded everyone back into the truck. We were running out of time.

  42

  “Are you kidding? They can trace this!”

  Black looked at the blocky phone Viktoriya had just handed him.

  “No, they cannot,” she said confidently. “It is custom made for GRU agents for emergencies, such as this.”

  He looked at her and shook his head in confusion.

  “We call it the fuck your mother phone,” she continued with a shrug. “But the name is so much more elegant when spoken in Russian.”

  “Explain it to me,” he said.

  She sighed and walked into the kitchen. After a moment, he followed. Viktoriya was standing in front of an open refrigerator, bent at the waist to peer inside.

  She g
lanced at him before reaching in and grabbing a bottle of cold water. He had to make a conscious effort to tear his eyes off her backside, which was perfectly framed and partially exposed by the short shorts.

  “Were you staring at my ass?”

  “The phone?” he asked, blushing because he’d been caught, but not taking the bait.

  She twisted off the lid and took a long drink, bumping the refrigerator door shut with her hip.

  “Fine. First of all, there is no GPS. Second, it will grab a random phone number out of the phone company’s system and present that as its own. And best of all, there is a chip inside that spoofs the call routing servers. The result is that when you connect to one tower, it tells the servers that you are connected to all of the towers within a thirty-kilometer radius. There is no way for anyone to tell where you are. All they know is that the phone is somewhere within a three thousand square kilometer area.”

  Black stared at the phone in his hand, having difficulty with what she had just told him.

  “Look, it is one thing I am confident in,” she said. “If I was not, I would not have given it to you to use.”

  “I don’t want to know where Russia got this, do I?”

  “If you are asking if this is technology developed in America that we copied, I do not know. Does it matter, as long as it works?”

  “Suppose not,” he grumbled after a few more seconds.

  Taking a breath, he pressed the power button and waited while the device booted up. Water bottle in hand, Viktoriya returned to the front room and curled her long legs beneath her as she sat on one end of the sofa.

  It seemed to take forever for the phone to be ready and he wondered if this was because it was busily spoofing the cell network. When it showed a green light, he punched in Jessica’s private cell number. Just a few days ago he’d not known it, nor cared to, but they’d formed an informal bond as they shared keeping watch over the gravely injured Admiral Packard.

  “Hello?” The same voice that had warned him earlier asked guardedly after nearly a dozen rings.

  “It’s Captain Black.”

  Silence for a moment.

  “What the hell are you doing, sir?”

  “How’s the Admiral?” he asked, ignoring the question.

  “The same.”

  “Is he safe?”

  “Your men are rotating through when they don’t have duty. He’s never alone. And the Major is coming back. You know he will make sure the Admiral is protected.”

  “That’s good news!”

  “But you’re in a world of shit, sir. Local cops are looking for you. They seem to think you murdered a bunch of Russians.”

  Black didn’t respond. Wasn’t about to admit on an open line that he’d pulled the trigger on some of the men who’d come after Viktoriya.

  “You should surrender, sir. Just like Captain West. Tell your side of this and get a fair hearing. I can’t see anyone getting too upset over some dead Russians.”

  Black was taken aback for a beat, then realized the unknown person had just found a way to surreptitiously let him know Captain West was in custody.

  “They’re listening, aren’t they?” Black asked after a stretch of silence.

  “No, sir. I’m all alone.”

  He heard the warning in the voice and ended the call without another word and shut the phone off. With a sigh of frustration, he walked over and plopped onto the end of the sofa opposite from Viktoriya.

  “Did you learn anything that will help?” she asked.

  “They’re locking people up that could cause them a problem. And the cops are looking for us. Think we’re murderers. But there’s help on the way.”

  She arched her brow questioningly.

  “Better you don’t know,” he said. “Just in case we’re captured.”

  “All the better reason to keep a low profile for a while.”

  “Then what? Say we sit on our asses for a week, waiting for some of the heat to die down. What does that accomplish, exactly? We’ll still be murderers on the loose on a small island in the middle of the ocean.”

  “My, you are quite the negative little girl,” she said with a soft laugh. “But you misunderstand me. I am not saying we do nothing. I am saying we wait until we can go out in public without being the most wanted fugitives in Hawaii. That will take some time.”

  Black shook his head in frustration.

  “You can sit on your ass if you want. I’m ready to take the fight to these bastards.”

  “Just you?” she asked, eyes going wide. “Before whoever the mystery help is arrives? Are you another American that thinks he is John Wayne? You cannot fight them on your own.”

  Black looked at her for a moment before digging his wallet out. From an inside flap he removed a micro SD memory card and held it up in the weak light.

  “I won’t be on my own,” he said. “I’ve got a copy of the files you gave me. There are still some officers who will stand up and do what’s right once they hear them. And I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

  She watched him, eyes boring into his for a long time.

  “There is more to you than I thought, Captain,” she finally said. “I may have misjudged you because of your clumsy attempt to contact me at the club.”

  “I’m a Marine,” he said, waving her comment away. “I’m used to it. Everyone always thinks we’re nothing but a bunch of knuckle draggers.”

  She laughed a high, clear laugh, receiving a frown from him. Unfolding her legs, she stood and faced where he sat on the couch.

  “Perhaps we should start over.”

  He sat there for several seconds, looking up at her.

  “I’m sorry for the comment I made about how you might have recruited the traitor,” he finally said, earning a small smile from her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He sat there looking at her expectantly for several long seconds.

  “What about you?”

  “The slap?” she asked, to which he nodded. “I am not sorry in the least. You were behaving like a rude child, lashing out for no reason. In my country, we are not afraid to spank unruly children.”

  “Really? I apologize, and this is what I get?”

  “Would you prefer I slap you again?” she asked with a mischievous grin.

  Black was nonplussed, shaking his head in amazement.

  “Maybe, if you don’t want people to assume you’re using your tits and ass to get what you want, try not putting them on such prominent display.”

  He waggled a finger toward her scantily clad body. Slowly, a broad smile spread across Viktoriya’s face.

  “You were looking at them!” she cried, sounding as if she’d won a great victory.

  “Kind of hard to not notice, especially after you shoved your hand in my pants at the club.”

  Another bright laugh.

  “Touché, Captain. Touché! Our time together is most certainly not going to be boring.”

  43

  Irina lay in the top rack, staring at the gray metal ceiling above her. She couldn’t sleep. Since boarding the submarine, she’d been on a bit of an emotional roller coaster and hadn’t gotten any exercise. The combination of the two had left her feeling lethargic, yet every time she closed her eyes her mind would begin racing, preventing her from falling asleep.

  Igor didn’t have the same issue. It was almost maddening to listen to his rumbling snores emanating from the lower rack. She wanted to blame his offensive sounds for her inability to rest but knew the truth of the matter and it had nothing to do with him.

  She had to suppress a giggle when she imagined the sawmill sounds coming from his mouth passing through the hull of the submarine into the surrounding water and frightening the fish. Or attracting an amorous shark.

  With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and forced her eyes shut. She was successful for a few seconds, then they opened of their own accord and she found herself staring at a blank bulkhead. Cursing in her native tongue, she s
lapped the thin mattress, sat up and swung her legs over the side to dangle in the air.

  For a moment she considered removing her clothing and slipping into the bunk with Igor. Not that she was interested in sex at the moment, but she’d discovered that love making with the big soldier was nearly an Olympic event. Perhaps it would tire her enough to finally get some rest. A fresh series of snores from below killed any desire for intimacy she might have been able to work up.

  Shaking her head and still cursing, she dropped lightly to the deck and looked at Igor. Briefly considered stuffing a pillow into his open mouth to silence the infernal racket. Before she could follow through on the impulse, a thought struck her like a thunderbolt out of the blue.

  For several long moments she stood in contemplation, evaluating the possibilities. A feeling of dread descended over her as she decided the concerns she had were valid. Quietly slipping her feet into a pair of rubber soled shoes, she moved to the door, or hatch as the sailors called it, opened it and looked out.

  It was the middle of the night aboard the Key West, the lights in the passageway dimmed in imitation of the time of day. A sleepy looking sailor stood watch to the side, staring at her with hooded eyes.

  “I need to speak with the Captain,” she whispered. “It is urgent.”

  “Ma’am,” he said slowly. “I’m sure the skipper is sleeping and I’m not about to be the one to wake him up.”

  Irina resisted the urge to sigh in frustration.

  “The XO, then. This has to do with the safety of the submarine.”

  That got his attention, his eyes widening as he turned to fully face her.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Either take me to one of them or bring one of them here!”

  She held his eyes until he nodded and looked away. Waiting until she saw him step across the passageway and lift the handset for an intercom, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief and gently closed the door.

  “What are you doing?” Igor asked her in Russian, startling her.

  “Sorry I woke you,” she said, walking over and taking a seat on the edge of his mattress. “But I just had a really bad thought.”

  “What is wrong?” Igor asked, sitting up too fast and banging his head on the upper rack.