It was hard to see much past the mob of civilians. Sailors herded them away from the choppers. Most of them looked like frightened, lost livestock, eyes roving and wide.
At least some of them made it. It helped lessen the pain from the loss of his men. They had died for something.
Fitz pulled away from Davis’s grip, limping on his single blade back toward the chopper. “I have to see Meg.” He crashed to the ground, and pushed himself back up like he was doing an up-down. “Meg!”
“Fitz, get back here!” Davis shouted.
Garcia reached toward Davis. “You should let him go, LT.”
Davis pulled off her helmet and let her shoulder-length red hair down. It caught in the breeze, blowing behind her head in a halo. Together, Garcia and the lieutenant watched Fitz struggle, jumping on one blade while using his MK11 as a crutch. He moved like a man possessed.
Tank groaned from the wheelchair.
“I’m going to get him inside,” Garcia said as he went to join Tank. “Make sure Fitz is okay.”
Davis slipped her helmet back on. “Hang in there, Corporal.”
The Marine grumbled as the medics pushed him through the open hatch. Five minutes later, they arrived at the makeshift infirmary. The room was bustling with activity. A nurse and a soldier Garcia had never seen before wheeled a gurney toward a hatch at the other end. A white cloth stained with blood was draped over a sailor who would never see the ocean again. They pushed the body past an area that had been cordoned off by large plastic walls marked with biohazard signs.
“What are those for?” Garcia asked one of the nurses.
“Preparation. You didn’t hear what happened?”
“Hear what?”
“There was an incident on the Cowpens. Several doctors were exposed to a toxin during an autopsy. One of the Delta Force Operators is quarantined in the lab with them right now.”
Beckham. You son of a bitch.
Garcia shook his head. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse. He looked away from the clean room and back to a row of empty beds along the starboard wall. The sheets were white, but he could still see the bloodstains that bleach couldn’t get out.
The medics pushing Tank’s chair helped him onto the bed next to Chow. The Operator reached over with a hand dressed in bandages as a nurse hurried over.
All around him, Garcia heard the moans from injured soldiers, shouts from doctors trying to save patients, and the frightened voices of civilians who hadn’t seen military personnel for six weeks.
Garcia took it all in, wondering exactly how much more humanity could take. He prayed that Dr. Lovato and Beckham were still in the fight. He was terrified of being the last soldier standing.
Beckham hated not being in control. Fighting Variants was one thing. At least he could direct his aim. But sitting on the floor in a BSL4 laboratory, covered in chemicals and holding the mother of his unborn child in his arms made him feel helpless. To add to the pressure, he still hadn’t heard anything about the mission to retrieve Fitz, Meg, and the Variant Hunters from New York.
The wait was torture.
The last message they’d had was from Captain Humphrey, and that was fifteen minutes ago. Whatever his people were doing to get them out of this lab wasn’t working. Foam was still raining from the overhead jets, which told Beckham that whatever toxic shit was floating around hadn’t been destroyed.
Ellis took a seat next to Kate. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, staring at Lucy’s remains. The bones were covered in a white residue that reminded Beckham of drywall. The liquid streaming out of those jets was hardening on everything it touched. A thick layer covered the lab floor. He wiped away the streaks on his visor.
“How much longer?” Ellis finally asked.
Beckham wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to Kate. There was no way anyone in the other room would have heard him.
Every second that passed made Beckham feel more helpless. He was used to having a plan. Training had taught him to always leave himself an out. Every mission, from Operation Liberty to raiding Raven Rock, he had an out. But the only plan he’d had when he walked into the lab was to be with Kate. What came after that was out of his hands.
Beckham watched Ellis stand and walk to a lab station.
“Where are you going?” Kate asked.
“To work. If we’re going to sit in here, I'd just as well get something done.”
The three technicians had stayed seated on the stools around the lab stations. Foam crept down their blue suits.
“Ronnie, where’s the sample Kate gave you?” Ellis asked.
“Over here, Doctor.” The technician stood and led him to another station.
Kate scooted away from Beckham and pushed herself to her feet. Beckham rose with her, considering telling her to stay put, but he saw the defiant look that had returned in her eyes. Instead of protesting, he followed her toward the lab stations. Maybe there was something he could do after all.
“Look,” Ellis said in a voice just above a whisper. “I don’t know what the hell is going on outside, but with Yokoyama dead, I’m not going to just sit here and hope Captain Humphrey’s people know what they’re doing.”
Kate nodded. “I agree. We need to find out what these eggs are.”
The jets suddenly shut off overhead. Everyone looked at the ceiling, waiting for the message they all knew would follow.
As if in answer, the wall intercom barked. “This is Captain Humphrey. Despite our attempts to destroy the toxin, air scans reveal it’s still present. We’re working on something else, but for now, we’d ask that you remain as far away from the juvenile and Dr. Yokoyama as possible.”
Ellis and Kate exchanged a glance. Beckham could tell they weren’t going to listen. That was fine by him. He wanted to get the hell out of here.
“Let’s get to work,” Kate said. “But be extremely careful.”
Ellis issued orders to the three technicians. They wiped down their workstations and keyed in their credentials to computers. Undeterred, they began testing samples.
Beckham took a seat on a stool and watched the team. This world was as foreign to him as the Afghani mountains and Iraqi deserts were to Kate. They came from completely different backgrounds, but they both shared the same goal—to protect America from enemies domestic and abroad.
The only difference was the type of enemies they fought.
Fifteen minutes passed. Then half an hour. Beckham watched diligently, trying not to focus on his labored breathing. His suit seemed to be shrinking around his muscular chest. He could feel it pressing in on his ribs.
Or was that an illusion?
Beckham sucked in a breath and stood. Kate and Ellis were crowded around a station together. He walked up behind them and looked over Ellis’s shoulder.
The doctor stuck his hands into the gloves of a biosafety cabinet. Inside was a small Petri dish with several brown balls. Using the internal gloves, Ellis picked up a pen with a razor edge in his right hand and a small tube in his left.
“Careful,” Kate said.
Ellis paused for a moment. In a deliberately slow movement, he split open a tiny brown egg and pushed the open end of the tube toward it. Sludge oozed into the container. The egg deflated like a punctured balloon as the liquid emptied out.
“Got it,” he said. He set the pen down next to the remains of the egg and put the cap on the tube.
“Let’s get this under a scope ASAP,” Kate said.
Ellis carefully removed the tube from the box. He cupped it in his hand gently like it contained the deadliest chemical known to man. Beckham wasn’t sure what was inside, but he had a feeling that wasn’t too far from the truth.
A chill went up his legs at the thought.
Beckham followed Kate and Ellis to a third station. They walked slowly, Ellis taking one step at a time. The technicians were waiting. They watched Ellis carry the tube, wide eyes following his every movement. Ronnie reached out for t
he tube, but Ellis shook his head.
“I’m doing this,” he said.
“Not going to argue with you there, Doctor,” Ronnie replied.
Using thoughtful care, Ellis deposited part of the sample on a slide and sealed it within the biosafety cabinet. Then he sat down in front of the connected microscope. A few minutes later, he looked up at Kate and nodded.
“What now?” Beckham asked.
“We wait,” she replied.
-14-
President Ringgold cradled her injured arm and stepped closer to the CIC observation window. The Cowpens was surrounded by Zodiacs and smaller boats. A helicopter circled overhead.
“Captain, I want a SITREP right now,” she said.
“Working on it, Madame President.”
Humphrey looked up from a combat station across the room and waved Lieutenant Davis over, then went back to studying a report. He was multi-tasking with ten different fires to put out. An hour earlier he’d dispatched three Apaches to a derelict vessel full of shipping containers and a crew infected with the Hemorrhage Virus. He’d ordered the strike group to change course and for the Apaches to hold their fire. There was no use wasting rockets on a ship that wasn’t a threat.
Ringgold had questioned that assessment, but kept her mouth sealed. Humphrey was a busy man and now had thirty new civilians from New York to look after. He was understaffed, running low on sleep, and visibly anxious. Ringgold could see it in his eyes and actions. She had decided to pick her battles carefully. Especially with Lieutenant Colonel Kramer hovering in the CIC like a hawk. She was still flanked by two hard-looking men carrying massive shotguns.
Lieutenant Davis strode over to Humphrey wearing a fresh uniform. Her short hair was still wet from the showers. She clasped her hands behind her back and whispered something to the captain that Ringgold couldn’t hear.
There was no hint of emotion in Davis’s features, nothing to tell Ringgold what intel she had. What Ringgold did see was a woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her opinion—a woman who backed those opinions with actions. She hadn’t been ordered to New York to extract survivors; she had volunteered. And she had returned to the bridge as soon as she was finished washing off the blood on her uniform. Davis had helped secure a win, but Ringgold needed more wins. A lot more. And she needed Kate and Beckham back from the Cowpens safely.
“Sorry, Madame President,” the captain said. Humphrey and Davis walked over to the observation windows side by side. “I apologize, but right now I don’t have a new SITREP for the Cowpens. We’re still—”
“That’s unacceptable, Captain,” Ringgold interrupted. “We have some of the best remaining American scientists on that ship. I want—”
This time Humphrey interrupted Ringgold. “With all due respect, we had the best. Dr. Carmen and Dr. Yokoyama are dead. Dr. Ellis and Dr. Lovato are quarantined, and our three best technicians too. I have a team of scientists from the Medical Corps working diligently on getting them out of there, but we’re in uncharted waters. Half of those men only have undergrad degrees in biology.”
Ringgold held in a sigh. “Our main priority…your main priority is to get Dr. Lovato and her staff out of that lab safely, ASAP. Do I make myself clear, Captain?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Humphrey brushed a strand of silver hair away from his tanned forehead as Davis leaned over to whisper something in his ear.
“Goddammit,” he muttered. She handed him a pair of binoculars and he quickly centered them on the horizon. “I thought I ordered all ships away from that vessel.”
“You did, sir,” Davis replied. “We changed course thirty minutes ago.”
“Then why does it look like…?” Humphrey’s words trailed off as he slowly lowered the scope and looked at Davis.
Ringgold gestured for the binoculars while Humphrey and Davis spoke. Using her good hand, she pushed them to her eyes. A vessel loaded with multi-colored shipping containers filled the oval scopes. From a distance, it hardly looked like it was moving at all. Then she saw the wake.
By the time she understood what was happening, a trio of Apaches shot over the CIC. The sleek black choppers raced across the skyline, their mounted mini-guns rotating toward the vessel.
“Get it done, Lieutenant,” Humphrey said.
Davis snapped to attention and hurried away. Ringgold watched her leave in the reflection of the window.
“What did I miss?” called the voice of Vice President Johnson. He stood in the center of the room, rubbing tired eyes.
“A lot, sir” Humphrey replied.
“I was only asleep for an hour.”
Ringgold followed the Apaches with her binoculars. “We have a problem, Johnson. Have a look.”
Humphrey pointed to the colorful ship in the distance. “We located a vessel that has infected all over the decks. Not Variants. People infected with the Hemorrhage Virus. Apparently there’s also someone who’s not infected on board. And they’re headed right for us.”
“Jesus. I was just briefed on the situation on the Cowpens, and now this?” Johnson said. “Someone bring me a cup of coffee. Black coffee. None of that decaf horseshit.”
Ringgold zoned out the conversation to focus on the Apaches. When they arrived at the vessel, they circled like turkey vultures over a dead carcass. The ship continued to cut through the water, undeterred by the birds.
“Captain, is there a reason that—” The Apaches suddenly pulled away, and before Ringgold could finish her thought, the ship exploded in a brilliant fireball. Shipping containers shot into the air like firecrackers, then plummeted back to the ocean, lost to the currents that would take them to a new home.
At first Ringgold thought the ship might have been carrying a bomb, but then she saw the finned sail of the USS Florida cutting through the water.
“One shot, one kill. Nice hit,” Humphrey said.
He turned to Davis, who was leaning over two officers at a battle station. “Recall the Apaches.”
“Sir,” Davis said. “I just got an update on Lab A. The toxin is dissipating. We should be able to get the scientists out shortly.”
Ringgold almost exhaled. It didn’t mean Kate and the others were out of the water yet, but as the crimson fireball vanished on the horizon, Ringgold decided she would chalk it up as another win.
Kate heard Captain Humphrey’s voice over the intercom, but she wasn’t really listening. She should have been happy. They were cleared to leave the lab, and Fitz was apparently back from New York City with Meg. But she couldn’t seem to move. It was no wonder scans couldn’t determine the unknown toxin. Technically, it didn’t exist.
“What exactly are we looking at?” Kate asked. She bent down to look at the computer screen Ellis was facing. Beckham paced behind them anxiously. Kate could tell he was ready to get out of the lab and washed down in the detox facility, but she couldn’t leave just yet.
“I’ve seen something similar before, but this has a much higher concentration of enzymes,” Ellis replied. He swiveled his chair around to face Kate and the technicians. “These eggs contain a type of venom much stronger than what’s found in spiders.”
“I don’t get it,” Ronnie said. “Why?”
Ellis offered a meaningful look. “What’s the one thing Variants can’t do?”
Ronnie thought for a moment. “Seems to me they can do a whole hell of a lot.”
“They can’t speak,” Kate said. “At least not yet. Or not like the Alphas.”
Ellis shook his head and spun back to the computer screen.
“They can’t shoot,” Beckham said. He had stopped pacing.
“Exactly,” Ellis said. “I believe the venom is yet another example of metamorphosis. The armor protects them from bullets, but they can’t shoot back.”
“I don’t follow,” Kate said. She glanced back at Lucy’s corpse. Her mind was working in slow motion, like a lagging computer.
“The enzymes in this venom will digest proteins like a hungry stomach,” Ellis said. “
Think of the proteins as scaffolding for your tissues and organs. They are crucial to holding everything together. When you tear that scaffolding apart….” He jerked his chin toward Yokoyama’s corpse.
Kate nearly choked on an epiphany. “You think the juveniles will evolve to fire the venom like a weapon?”
Ellis shrugged. “Doesn’t do a lot of good inside of them, right?”
The technicians behind her broke into a hushed conversation, but Kate didn’t reply. There was no evidence that the juveniles could shoot the venom. If Lucy had been able to do so, she would have used it on Sergeant Russo’s men. At least, that’s what Kate kept telling herself.
“Kate, can we get out of here?” Beckham said.
“Yes, I’m sorry. Just a few more minutes,” Kate replied. “We’re almost done.”
Ellis punched at the keyboard. “I’m downloading all of the data. But before we continue our research, we’ll need to fractionate the different components to separate the molecules by size. To further identify the compounds present, we need to perform mass spectrometry.”
“Why? What’s the point?” Ronnie said. “We already know what we need to know. Those things aren’t just armored killing machines; they’re poisonous. There’s no designing an antidote to stop a venom stronger than anything found in nature.”
“He’s right,” Kate said. “We need to focus on Kryptonite and warn Command about this new development. Anyone going into the field should be aware of what we’ve discovered. We’re not going to waste time trying to create an antidote. Our focus should be finding a weakness. Some way to kill these monsters.”
Ellis looked unsure, but Kate wasn’t going to spend any time trying to convince him. They all needed a break, and Kate wanted to see Fitz, Meg, and the others.
“Let’s get out of here.” She grabbed Beckham’s hand and pulled him away from the station. Her heart was pounding, but his simple touch calmed her down. They were finally leaving.
Together.
But not everyone else was as lucky.
Yokoyama had joined the ranks of the dead. His grisly end was a reminder of the threat they faced when they left the lab. The juveniles weren’t just deadly when they were alive—they were equally as deadly when they were corpses. And if Ellis’s theory was correct, the juveniles were about to add another weapon to their already terrifying arsenal.
Extinction End (Extinction Cycle Book 5) Page 18