The Tide (Book 3): Salvage

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  Meredith shot Andris a quizzical look, wondering where this conversation was headed.

  “You know how to read people, how to evaluate risk and gauge uncertainty. And I’m sure you’ve had to make some tough choices in the CIA.” He sighed. “I trust Dom. I really do. I owe him my life. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to be his devil’s advocate. No one in the crew can second-guess his leadership, but you...”

  “You want me to watch out for our real enemy.”

  “Right. Not the Skulls. They are mindless killing monsters.”

  Meredith thought back to her old supervisor, David Lawson, who’d told her to ignore that fateful memo regarding the IBSL. He must’ve known more about the Oni Agent and who was behind it than she guessed. She regretted not squeezing every last drop of information out of him when she had the chance. There was nothing worse for an intelligence officer than trying to deal with a situation blind.

  “Tonight,” said Andris, “Dom risked his life to save Glenn. He did the same for that little boy in the hospital. He would die to protect all of us, even a stranger in the street. But without him, how will the Hunters fare?”

  “You’re saying that Dom is too important to go out into the field?”

  Andris shrugged. “Only that I would rest easier knowing someone was by his side who could make the hard decisions. He listens to you.”

  Meredith nodded and watched Andris pack up his kit. “You want me to keep an eye on him?”

  “In a word, yes. It is, how do you say, a tall order? But I believe you can handle it. Just as you handled those Skulls today.”

  Andris left the armory, but Meredith stayed behind to consider his words.

  How soon would it be before Dom tried to save someone who shouldn’t be saved?

  Not only might he get himself killed, but his noble compassion might doom the Huntress and her crew. It was a sobering thought. It didn’t even need to be the terrorist mastermind behind the Oni Agent outbreak. Not everyone in the apocalypse was out to save humanity. In fact, many of them might be out to save only themselves. Letting someone like that aboard this ship could be disastrous.

  She shuddered and drew her hands through her hair again. She left them on the back of her neck. It came down to trust. Dom trusted easily. He was a good man, and fundamentally he believed that everyone else was too. Meredith didn’t see things the same way. Maybe she’d grown cynical over the years, but she wondered if she and Dom had been too eager to trust the Army, trust Fort Detrick and Commander Shepherd. They’d given up the greatest asset they’d had—their secrecy and anonymity—when they’d given Shepherd a direct line of communication with their ship. She hoped that Shepherd and Kinsey would prove to be honorable men like Dom. In the meantime, she would have to stay vigilant and use every one of the skills she’d learned in the CIA.

  -24-

  Shepherd felt the chopper start to descend. He couldn’t tell where they were with the bag over his head, and he’d tried to keep track of the time they’d spent in the air. Without being able to see, it was hard to tell how fast they were going or in what direction, making his attempts to orient himself exceedingly difficult. They’d landed once, not too long after the soldiers had whisked him away from Detrick. And now, it appeared they were landing again.

  The helicopter’s wheels hit the ground with a jolt, and the side doors whooshed back. Someone unstrapped the seat’s harness and grabbed him.

  “Move,” the gruff voice said.

  In the distance, he heard the cries of Skulls and the crack of sporadic gunfire. The sound was almost drowned out by the thuds of landing choppers and the throaty rhythm of their slowing engines, but he would recognize the eerie wails of the monsters anywhere.

  In his mind’s eye, he pictured Jackson, injured and outnumbered, trying to hold Detrick on his own. He imagined the men and women under his command falling to the monsters—or worse, becoming Skulls themselves. Shepherd should be there, fighting alongside them. Instead, Kinsey had sent a goon squad to kidnap him.

  Another shriek pierced the din, and Shepherd winced. It sounded far too close.

  “What’s going on?” he yelled over the noise.

  There was no answer. He hadn’t really expected one. Hands tugged on his cuffed wrists, and rushed footsteps clicked on pavement. Metal doors groaned as they scraped against concrete. Pushed forward, he almost tripped when he misjudged a step. A staircase led him down into cool, humid air.

  “Hey, watch it!” a female voice said somewhere near the top of the stairs. She sounded young, maybe college-aged. “Come on, they need us at Kent!”

  Shepherd’s interest was piqued. Kent Island was where Captain Holland and his crew had set up a safe haven for survivors.

  “Are you people going to help them? Answer me!” the young woman demanded. Shepherd could hear a brief scuffle. A sickening crack followed.

  “Rachel!” a young man called. “Are you okay?”

  Apparently Shepherd wasn’t the only captive of this mysterious detachment of US Army personnel.

  A loud howl from a Skull bounced off the walls. Shepherd instinctively ducked. But his captors’ footsteps remained steady. There was no clicking of guns being readied or shots being fired. No panicked voices, no klaxons going off. The Skull’s growling persisted as Shepherd was guided deeper into the structure.

  “Stop,” a low voice commanded.

  He followed the order, and two hands pushed him roughly sideways. Losing his balance, he tried to swing his arms around to catch himself. But his wrists remained cuffed, and he slammed against cement, pain radiating up his side and shoulder. A heavy door swung shut, clanging loudly as it was locked.

  Shepherd tried to remain calm, attempting to control his pulse and breathing. No use in panicking. No use in angry demands. These people wouldn’t respond. He had no idea what they wanted or where he was or how long he would be here. The only thing he knew for certain was that he felt furious. He inched toward the wall and then pushed himself upright. Once he was standing, he slowly paced the room. He took measured steps, tracing the edge of each wall. He calculated the room to be no more than ten by ten feet. The walls were cinder block, broken only by a single locked steel door. There was a musty-smelling cot with no blanket and an open hole in one corner from which a pungent odor drifted up.

  Again, the voice of a Skull sounded somewhere nearby. Its wails flowed under the door, followed by the scrape of claws against steel. He knew it wasn’t his door, but he couldn’t help the fear creeping through him. He hated those monsters, and he hated not having a chance to defend himself if one happened on him now.

  “Rachel! Rachel, are you okay?” That man’s voice again, followed by pounding against a door.

  “Rory!” another voice—Rachel—groaned. “I’m okay.”

  A different man yelled, “Shut up! Don’t make me come in there!”

  The voices quieted, but the commotion had stirred the Skull. Its scraping became more frantic and its growling and wailing more erratic. Time wore on. Water dripped somewhere, splatting against concrete. Shepherd sat at the edge of his cot, refusing to succumb to the exhaustion overwhelming his body. He wouldn’t let himself be caught unaware by whatever threats faced him in this strange prison. He tried to keep track of the time by tapping out a rhythmic beat with his toe, but the monotony proved too much to bear. His thoughts whirled back to Detrick and the Hunters and Maryland and the rest of the world. His swirling thoughts all centered on one thing: he had to get out of there.

  ***

  “We’ve had our eye on you, Captain Holland,” the gravelly voice on the line said. Dom stared at the handset in disbelief, unable to process what General Kinsey was saying. “We watched you and your crew return to the Huntress.”

  “Watched us?” Dom asked. He couldn’t recall seeing any choppers or passing planes. Then the answer struck him. “Drones. If you saw we were in trouble, why didn’t you offer support?”

  “Surveillance drones are all
we’ve got on you right now,” Kinsey said.

  All we’ve got on you right now. The words were ominous, dripping in veiled threats. Dom didn’t like it one bit, but he wouldn’t rise to the man’s bait.

  “What happened to Fort Detrick?” Dom asked in as calm a voice he could manage. He paced next to Chao’s desk.

  “The base was overrun.”

  “Where’s Shepherd? We can’t seem to reach him.”

  “Shepherd was part of the first wave of evacuees this morning. We lost communication with his escort en route and have no knowledge of his current whereabouts.”

  Dom’s nose twitched into a soundless snarl. He couldn’t believe they’d lost Shepherd. He hadn’t known the man for long, but he’d respected Shepherd’s leadership. There were precious few leaders left to guide humanity. “Have you given up on Detrick completely? Is this what it’s come to? Neglecting—”

  “Captain, I don’t have time for this. Your total command is one ship. I’m dealing with the coordination of military forces of a scope beyond what you could possibly imagine.”

  “If your time is so important, why deal with me at all?”

  “I’ve talked with my advisers and given thought to your previous comments,” Kinsey replied.

  “So you’ve realized the importance of science in your war against the Oni Agent. And now, it’s too late. You’ve let Detrick and Shepherd fall.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Captain,” Kinsey said, the venom in his voice practically spitting through the handset. “Fort Detrick was never going to be where the scientific front of this war would take place. The resources there aren’t sufficient for the large-scale production of vaccines we’ll need.”

  “We needed Fort Detrick for the scientists and research facilities too. Those would’ve been more than useful enough to keep standing.”

  “Again, you’re wrong, Captain. You’re not seeing the bigger picture. I can.”

  Dom massaged his forehead with one hand. “Enlighten me. How are we going to move forward with any worthwhile research?”

  “We will first secure our nation’s capital. The National Institutes of Health complexes are close enough to Washington that we can establish our medical research labs there. We may even be able to use DC’s metro system for safe travel throughout the area.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “You didn’t need to know. But you offered your help, Captain, and now I’m taking it. I have a mission for you and your team.”

  Dom hesitated a beat. He wasn’t happy taking orders from someone like Kinsey. It had always been much easier to operate more or less independently, with Meredith as his link to the CIA. But even then, he’d never taken direct orders. Still, he did want to help. “I’m listening.”

  “Our intelligence indicates NIH staff may be trapped within the facilities. You would be part of the ground force that secures the facility.”

  “After all the grief you’ve given me, you want me to retake one of our most important assets?”

  “That’s correct,” Kinsey said. “As insolent as you may be, I respect what your group has done in the field. You seem to know your way around these new urban landscapes.”

  Dom leaned against Chao’s desk, considering Kinsey’s words—and the hidden meanings within them. The comm specialist shot him a wary look.

  “All right,” Dom said. “If you can give us a few more details, we might be in.”

  “Good. I’m tasking you with specifically securing the Vaccine Production Program Laboratory within the NIH.”

  So Kinsey wasn’t as pigheaded as he’d thought; the general wanted access to vaccine production facilities Fort Detrick could only dream of. Dom was starting to warm to the plan, especially the part about saving the scientists and researchers trapped inside the NIH. “When do you need us in Bethesda?”

  “ASAP,” Kinsey said.

  Dom glanced at one of the charts displayed on the screen. “We can make it back to the Chesapeake before nightfall. But I need to give my people enough time to breathe between missions. Give us a couple of days.”

  The line went silent for a moment. “Very well. I expect the VPPL cleared within forty-eight hours.”

  Two days. Two days to search and clear over three hundred acres of expansive clinical and laboratory facilities. “There’s no way my team can clear the entire facility within that timeframe. We need armed support.”

  “And you’ll get some,” Kinsey said. “But I will not be sending my men inside. They’ll secure the grounds. It’ll be your team’s responsibility to go into the VPPL.”

  “General, I only have nine men, including myself, available for this assignment. You’ve got to help us out here.”

  “As I said, Captain, intelligence shows minimal activity within the VPPL. Your mission should be fairly straightforward.”

  “And if it isn’t?” Dom asked, an edge to his voice.

  “Then I’ll have to send someone else in later to clean up the mess.”

  “Send them in now. With us.”

  “Captain, can your team handle themselves against the Skulls or not? I’m getting mixed messages.”

  “General Kinsey, sir, with all due respect, my people are not cannon fodder.”

  “I grow tired of your attitude, Holland. Up until Commander Shepherd introduced us, I had no idea your covert operative unit even existed. It seems...convenient that you’ve surfaced just in time for our hour of need. Your knowledge of the Oni Agent is extensive—far more so than our own intelligence.”

  “Whatever you’re implying, I assure you that—”

  “Your assurances mean nothing to me, Captain Holland. If you want to prove I can trust you, prove you have a place in this new era of the United States, then do what I’ve asked.”

  “General Kinsey, I—”

  “I don’t have time for any more of this. Remember, my drones are always watching. You may have been covert before, but that time has passed.”

  Dom seethed in silence. The veiled threats from earlier were becoming far less subtle. Kinsey was effectively holding them hostage. Should Dom not do what Kinsey asked, he had no doubt the general would have the Hunters tried for treason or worse. Dom didn’t think Kinsey honestly believed they were the ones responsible for the Oni Agent outbreak, but he could manipulate the facts to make them appear guilty. The bastard had them over a barrel, and there wasn’t much Dom could do about it.

  Kinsey continued. “I’m sending your comm specialists a data package with all the mission-specific information you’ll need. That should answer any remaining questions. Now, execute your orders.”

  The line went dead before Dom could say another word.

  Chao looked up at him from his desk and took off his headset. “Guy sounds like a real treat. We really going to do this, Captain?”

  Dom sighed. “I don’t see another choice. Without Detrick, we need a land-based ally.”

  Samantha spoke up from her station. “Looks like we’re getting an encrypted data link.” She drained an energy drink and then crumpled the empty can. “Yep, it’s from Kinsey.”

  “We had a good run, didn’t we, Captain?” Chao asked.

  Dom raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

  “It was nice being cowboys, wrangling terrorists, reporting only to Sheriff Meredith. And now it’s like the bad old days, getting orders from the brass.”

  Dom grinned. “Might look that way. But don’t be mistaken.” He pointed at Chao. “You still get your orders from me. No matter what Kinsey thinks.” He nodded toward the map where their location was marked with a blinking red dot. After grabbing a handset from Chao, he dialed for the pilothouse.

  “Set sail for Maryland,” Dom said. “We’re headed home.”

  -25-

  Lauren checked the biomonitors tracking survivors’ vital signs. Connor was curled up next to his mother, and all of them were sleeping. Their EKGs beeped softly and rhythmically. She thought she could see the color return
ing to their cheeks. Each passing day, they would recover a little bit more of their strength now that they’d passed the danger zone. She hoped they would soon be recovered enough to leave the medical bay. Now that she knew more about them, she figured the group would be more useful on Kent Island than on the Huntress. Their skills lay in clinical medicine. Kent Island, with its burgeoning civilian population, could use a little hands-on help.

  She looked to Navid, who lay in another hospital bed with his eyes wide open. They still hadn’t decided what would become of him.

  “How’s the hand?” she asked.

  Navid rotated his hand, displaying his splinted fingers. He’d said his fingers were broken in a scuffle with a man who had tried to kill him and his girlfriend. “Still feels like shit.”

  Lauren glanced at his medical chart. He hadn’t taken anything besides a couple of ibuprofen. “Need more pain meds?”

  “No, I don’t want to get doped up.”

  “After everything you went through, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

  “Can’t do it,” Navid said. “I don’t want to take anything that messes with my mind.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Might sound crazy. You all probably feel safe here, but—and I don’t mean any offense—I really don’t. Not sure if I’ll ever remember what safe feels like.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I just keep expecting someone here to turn.”

  Lauren dragged a stool over and sat down. “I understand.”

  A scowl crossed his face. “Do you?” He caught himself, and his expression softened. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I had to kill...”

  His voice trailed off, and his stare went vacant. Lauren knew what he wanted to say. She’d pieced it together from talking to the Hunters and hearing snippets from Navid when he mustered the courage to talk. He’d been forced to kill his girlfriend after she’d turned into a Skull. He was right; she couldn’t understand that pain. All she could do was listen.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.