V Plague (Book 17): Abaddon

by Patton, Dirk

  It had been Rachel’s idea. Hiding the telltale red of an infected’s eyes behind sunglasses was impractical as a long-term solution. Wearing them indoors and at night would cause people to question the reason, which would start gossip and rumors. With everything that had to be accomplished, people focusing on something so trivial was counterproductive. So, we’d gone shopping.

  “You’re scaring people,” she said as we walked down a street in Honolulu.

  “What? I’m not doin’ a damn thing!”

  “Hold on,” she said, grabbing my arm and turning me to face a plate glass window that was reflecting like a mirror. “Look at yourself.”

  With a sigh, I did as she asked. I was dressed for the civilian world in black cargo pants and a black T shirt I’d borrowed. It was a size too small and was stretched to the breaking point across my chest and shoulders. My battered head was freshly shaved, gleaming in the sun and a pair of blackout shades covered my red eyes.

  “What?” I asked, not getting what she meant.

  She smiled and shook her head.

  “If I didn’t know you, I’d cross the street when I saw you coming.”

  “Hmmmpffhh.”

  With a light laugh, she grabbed my arm and led me into the third shop of the day. It was a boutique that specialized in designer eyewear, but also sold cosmetic contact lenses. Personally, I’d thought it wouldn’t work, but wasn’t going to rain on Rachel’s parade. And I’d been wrong. They worked perfectly.

  But we’d done a lot more than go shopping. Rachel had seen an obstetrician and received a thorough prenatal exam. She and the baby were healthy as a horse. My words, not the docs. He said something about trimesters and percentiles and a bunch of other things I didn’t get. The bottom line was that for a mother to be who had just traipsed over half of Australia, she was in amazingly good condition, pregnancy wise.

  “Want to know the sex?” he’d asked toward the end of the examination.

  He had just finished squeezing some kind of clear jelly on Rachel’s abdomen and was adjusting an ultrasound machine. She and I had looked at each other. I’d shrugged and she nodded after rolling her eyes at me.

  That was when we found out she wasn’t just pregnant, she was pregnant with twins. A boy and a girl. The look on her face said she was just as shocked as I was. Twins?

  Still absorbing the news, we’d left the hospital and headed for Pearl Harbor to keep my appointment with Joe. I didn’t recognize him when we walked into his lab. His hair, which had been longer than Rachel’s, was cut close to his scalp, completely changing his appearance. It wasn’t until he walked up and called me a stupid fucking white man that I knew it was him.

  “Holy hell, Injun Joe,” I grinned, shaking his hand. “What’d you do?”

  “Too damn busy,” he said, shrugging. “And it’s a pain in the ass to put it up every time I need to go into an isolation room.”

  We’d chatted for a few minutes, then it was time to get down to business. I took my shades off and was thankful his only reaction was a subdued grunt. I hadn’t taken the time to put in the lenses we’d gotten to hide my eyes.

  He drew blood. Lots of it. Took samples of everything my body could excrete, and I mean everything. Then he wanted to perform a spinal tap. I’d drawn the line, shuddering at the thought of having a needle inserted into my spine.

  “Don’t be a pussy,” Joe said. “This is important.”

  “Fuck you, Tonto. What if you make a mistake?”

  “Done about a thousand of these in the past few months,” he said tiredly. “Haven’t killed anyone yet.”

  “Yeah, well, how many you paralyzed?”

  “Only the bigoted rednecks,” he said, trying a grin.

  Despite myself I had to laugh, but I still wasn’t having it. Then Rachel started. She explained to me why it was so important. That this was necessary to determine the viral load in my cerebral-spinal fluid. That there was no other way.

  So, after half an hour of arguing, I relented. And it wasn’t as bad as I expected, though my mind was playing a constant reel of images of me rolling around in a wheel chair because Joe made an error.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” I’d asked when all the poking, prodding and specimen collecting was over.

  “On you?” he’d asked in surprise. “I just finished taking samples. Now I’ve got to run tests. See what I can learn before I try any treatment.”

  “How long’s that gonna take?”

  “As long as it takes,” he said with a shrug. “Probably not too long, unless the results show something unexpected.”

  We’d left with promises to send Lucas to see him right away.

  “Major?”

  I blinked and focused on Admiral Packard. He was looking at me curiously.

  “Sorry, sir. Lost in thought.”

  “I could see that,” he said, his voice clear and strong. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered, opening the door for him.

  Colonel Pointere, Captain Black and an entire platoon of Marines were waiting for us in the parking garage. They drove us to Pearl, ignoring just about every traffic law on the books, and breezed through the main gate without even tapping the brakes on any of the vehicles in the convoy.

  Admiral Packard had been thoroughly briefed on all of the data provided by the Russian woman, Viktoriya Romanova. She’d also provided more intelligence about what the Russians were preparing to do. Her information was a godsend. If it was true and not a false flag being planted by a double agent.

  I’d kept my thoughts to myself. I hadn’t spoken directly with her but had noticed the body language whenever she was in Captain Black’s company. There was obviously something going on there. I just hoped he knew what he was getting himself into.

  The Admiral had created a list after being presented with all of the evidence. Seventeen names in all. One civilian and sixteen senior officers the rank of Colonel or higher. Much higher. At the top of the list sat Admiral Huber, the man who’d taken command when Packard was attacked and put in the hospital.

  He was at his quarters, a large home only two doors down from Admiral Packard’s house. Conveniently, the lone civilian name on the list was visiting him. We pulled to a stop out of sight of any of the front windows. The Admiral and I waited as Colonel Pointere dealt with the security detail protecting Huber.

  Captain Black spread his platoon out, blocking off the area and initializing a radio frequency jammer that would prevent either Huber or his guest from calling out with their cell phones. The home’s landline service had already been disabled by Jessica and her hacking skills.

  “Clear.”

  I heard Captain Black’s voice in my earpiece and immediately popped the door open and got out. Admiral Packard was right behind me and I fell in step with him. No one other than he and I were going inside.

  We marched up the walk and onto the porch like we were storming a beach. The Admiral didn’t bother to knock, just opened the front door and breezed inside. I was close to him, hand on a suppressed pistol hidden beneath my clothing.

  Admiral Huber and the Governor of Hawaii looked up in annoyance at the interruption, then both their mouths fell open when they saw Packard on his feet and apparently in good health.

  “On your feet, Admiral!” Packard barked in a voice that would have done any drill sergeant proud.

  Huber stood, still staring in surprise.

  “You’re...”

  “Not dead yet, you son of a bitch!”

  I saw his eyes narrow as he realized he’d been exposed.

  “It’s too late,” he said. “Barinov is already...”

  “Major!” Packard snapped.

  In a fluid motion, I drew the pistol and fired a round that struck Admiral Huber in the center of the forehead. The body crumpled and crashed through a glass table. The governor’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish gasping for breath as he scrambled away from the corpse.

  “Sit still!” Packard ord
ered.

  The short, fat man stopped moving. Terror filled his eyes and sweat was already soaking through his shirt collar. I could smell his fear from across the room.

  “What are you going to do?” he stammered, staring at the weapon in my hand.

  “I met a stunning young lady yesterday,” Packard began as he moved to take a seat on a side chair. Lighting a cigarette, he continued. “Smart, too. Guess what her name is.”

  The Governor sputtered, shaking his head. Droplets of sweat flew with the motion.

  “Viktoriya Romanova. A strong Russian name for a beautiful woman, don’t you agree?”

  The Governor could only stare in fright.

  “She told me everything. Gave me evidence to prove she was telling the truth. But, you know what impressed me most about her? It was her reason for coming to us with the information. You see, unlike some, she’s not a traitor. She’s not betraying the oath she took to her country. She’s upholding it because of what a maniacal tyrant has done and is still planning to do.

  “And she said something that resonated with me. Especially after having a knife thrust into my chest by a group of conspirators. And for what? Power? Money? Don’t answer that. It’s not important.”

  He waved his hand in the air to dismiss anything the Governor might have thought about saying.

  “But I’m off topic. What Major Romanova said to me. Very simple, actually. Pay close attention. The only way the human race is going to survive is to eliminate all those who seek to continue conflict or who are willing to harm others in order to improve their position. Pretty damn insightful, isn’t it?”

  “I wasn’t... I didn’t know about them! I was trying to negotiate a peace...”

  “Care to see the evidence?” Packard asked mildly.

  The Governor’s shirt was soaked through by now and the stench rolling off him was nearly unbearable.

  “I... I’ll drop out of the election!” the man suddenly cried, seizing on the idea as if it were a life boat in a storm. “You can be President! There’s no one else that...”

  “Major!”

  I shot the fat man between his bulging eyes. The body slumped to the side, twitched once and went still. Admiral Packard remained in the chair, calmly finishing his cigarette as he looked at the two men I’d just killed.

  “You didn’t tell me how it would feel,” he said, looking at the bodies.

  “Not something I like to talk about, sir. For obvious reasons.”

  “It’s always like this? That rush when you see and smell blood?”

  I nodded, returning the suppressed pistol to its holster.

  “Interesting,” Packard said, getting to his feet and stepping carefully so he didn’t get blood on his uniform. “We’d best be off, Major. Fifteen more to go.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “And I’ve got a favor to ask for when this is over.”

  67

  “It works!” Joe said, smiling broadly. “Turns out we were only halfway there when we thought we had the cure in Nevada.”

  Rachel, Lucas, Ziggy and I were in his lab, having hurried to see him after a cryptic phone call telling us he had news. I stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Struggling with the thought that Katie was gone because we’d rushed to try a cure that really wasn’t.

  “That fast?” Rachel asked breathlessly. “It’s only been a couple of days!”

  Joe nodded enthusiastically.

  “It was your idea about the endocrine system! We were treating the symptoms, not the source. When that final piece of the puzzle fell in place... well, we were ninety percent there. That got us over the goal line.”

  “How have you tested?” I asked, not feeling the glee that seemed to be spreading through the room. “There aren’t any infected in Hawaii.”

  Joe looked at me for a moment before hurrying across the lab and closing the door.

  “That’s not exactly correct,” he said. “We couldn’t do our work without test subjects, so some were brought here.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I exploded. “Here? The one place where you can go outside without worrying about being attacked? Does Admiral Packard know?”

  “Who do you think approved it?” he asked, staring at me as if I’d just kicked his puppy.

  I puffed out a big breath of air, ready to continue bitching but Rachel silenced me with a firm hand on my arm.

  “Success rate?” she asked.

  “Hundred percent,” Joe said. “And without the various mental deficits we encountered before. One thing, though. The red eyes appear to be a permanent condition.”

  “Great,” I grumbled. “Now we’ve gotta wait for someone with red eyes to try to take a bite out of our ass before we know whether or not they’re really infected.”

  “Would you stop?” Rachel snapped at me.

  I looked at her and nodded an apology, telling myself to keep my mouth shut. There was no reason for my mood. It just was. Perhaps thinking about what could have been or should have been.

  “Don’t give a bloody toss about the color of his eyes,” Ziggy said. “Can you cure my husband?”

  “Yes,” Joe nodded, carefully avoiding my gaze.

  “When can you start?” she asked, her voice brimming with hope.

  “Right now.” He pointed at a small, glass fronted refrigerator that contained two vials of milky liquid. “One injection now, another in twelve hours. Twelve hours after that, his body should be clear of the virus.”

  “Hang on a sec,” I said, pre-empting Ziggy.

  Everyone turned to look at me and I could see from their faces that they were expecting me to continue bitching. I held both hands up, palms facing out as if I were deflecting a blow.

  “Why are we infected?” I asked. “Well, I know why Lucas is. He got a blood transfusion from me. But either way, both of us were vaccinated. How did that happen and why hasn’t it happened to anyone else?”

  “Finally, a reasonable question,” Joe muttered. “Okay. I’ll try to say this so it makes sense.”

  “That’d be a first,” I said, earning a sharp elbow from Rachel and a shake of Joe’s head.

  “The vaccine isn’t what prevents the virus from taking hold in our bodies. It simply trains our immune systems to attack specific invaders. Viruses. Remember how every fall there was concern about the flu virus? Were the right strains included? Well, that’s because a vaccine is specific to a viral type. Everyone follow so far?”

  Nods all around.

  “Alright. So obviously, the vaccine is effective or none of us would be standing here. But once we’re vaccinated, it’s up to the body’s immune system to use its newfound skills to fight off any exposure to a contagion. And it does this quite effectively. Unless it has been compromised due to injury or illness. In that case, it is possible for the virus to take hold, despite the vaccine.

  “In each of your cases, the vaccine is what kept you from becoming a full blown, raging infected. Your body reached a point of equilibrium where it couldn’t defeat the virus, but the virus couldn’t take over. That’s why it was so important to do the spinal taps to check for viral load. And if you’re interested, each of you are carrying an almost identical amount, which is roughly forty percent of what is found in an untreated human.”

  “Wait,” I said, frowning. “I wasn’t injured. Lucas, sure. And Admiral Packard, too. But I was fine. And what about Nicole? She was never vaccinated.”

  “You’re correct,” Joe acknowledged. “But we’ve determined that Nicole is the extremely rare individual who has a partial natural immunity. It works the same way. As far as you... are you sure you weren’t injured? Or possibly ill?”

  I thought about that for a minute before answering.

  “I was pretty beat up. An infected bit a chunk out of my arm and I had a lot of other injuries.”

  “Open wounds from fighting?”

  I nodded.

  “That is most likely the explanation, then. Your body is devoting resour
ces to healing run of the mill wounds, then you suddenly get a massive load of virus from the saliva of the infected that bit you. That injury added to the long list of injuries your body had to deal with and almost certainly contributed to your current condition.”

  “What are the chances the virus will be able to overwhelm his immune system?” Rachel asked.

  “Based on our testing and how long Nicole has been stable, I’d say it’s very slim. Not impossible, but extremely unlikely.”

  “Okay, enough talking,” Ziggy said, grabbing Lucas’s arm as if she were afraid he was going to flee. “Give him the shot.”

  Joe looked at Lucas, who nodded agreement. Moving to the refrigerator, he brought out the vial and began loading a syringe. I spoke up when he reached for a second.

  “I’m not ready, Joe.”

  Everyone turned to me in surprise.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel asked.

  “Still some things to wrap up,” I said. “And I’d rather have the advantages the virus gives me while I’m doing them.”

  She stared up into my eyes as everyone tried to find anything else to look at other than us. I didn’t blame them.

  “Let’s take a walk,” I said.

  After a long, tense silence during which I half-expected her to storm out of the lab, she placed her hand on my arm and allowed me to lead her outside.

  68

  “Hold still,” Joe snapped.

  “It fucking hurts,” I said, trying to bat his hands away.

  He dropped them to his side in frustration and stared at me.

  “Stupid fucking white man,” he said. “You’ve got to trust me.”

  “Then quit trying to fucking choke me, Tonto,” I growled, tugging on my neck tie.

  “Quit being a pussy,” he said, smacking my hand away and pulling the damn thing even tighter.

  “Want me to try?” Lucas asked.

  “When’s the last time you tied a goddamn tie?”

  He thought about that for a few moments before shrugging.

  “When I married Ziggy, I guess.”

  It was two days after Joe had administered the cure to Lucas, who was now officially virus free. And four days after Admiral Packard and I had paid a visit to everyone who had betrayed America to the Russians. Some had been defiant when confronted, others broke down and begged forgiveness. None were alive today. Perhaps I should feel bad about that, but I didn’t. There are few things as heinous as betraying one’s own in time of war.