Pandemic: Beginnings: A Post-Apocalyptic Medical Thriller Fiction Series (The Pandemic Series Book 1)

by Bobby Akart

  But within this old-world attraction grew a burgeoning haven for radical Islamic terrorists who had invaded this idyllic island. Over time, under the threat of oppression, the nearly one hundred thousand Muslims in the twin islands of Trinidad and Tobago rose up. ISIS-run schools began to appear in private homes in Port of Spain. Recruitment became a high priority, and locals were brought into the fold with promises of a more fulfilling way of life.

  In recent years, Trinidadians made the trip to Syria to fight for ISIS. As these fighters returned to their home in Trinidad, they brought their radical ideology with them and created several terror cells on the island. One such cell was the target of the DTRA operation being undertaken, which now included Hunter.

  Intelligence had revealed that a bomb-making operation was in the process of preparing explosives to be detonated on a cruise ship bound for the United States. A Princess cruise originating in Fort Lauderdale was scheduled to make an overnight stop in Port of Spain before returning through the Caribbean and two additional ports of call.

  There had been bomb threats against cruise ships in the past, and they were usually determined to be pranks. In this instance, because of the increased scrutiny upon terrorist activity in Trinidad, the NSA had picked up on several conversations between known ISIS fighters who had recently returned from Syria and a member of the Port Authority at the cruise ship complex in Port of Spain.

  As the Princess ship docked for the evening, C-4 explosives would be carried on board for detonation by the terrorist team. Hunter and the other covert operatives working under the DTRA were tasked with destroying the explosives and the terrorists within the cell before the ship arrived in port.

  The terrorists’ bomb-making facility was located in a small frame and block house in a predominantly Muslim neighborhood just on the outskirts of Port of Spain. Hunter rode in the passenger seat of a nondescript Chevy van being driven by a local CIA station chief named Brian Montano. Montano had been watching this group for months and was instrumental in tipping off the NSA to the possible surveillance of their activities.

  Montano navigated the streets and maneuvered through throngs of tourists and local foot traffic. Prior to leaving the CIA safe house earlier, the team discussed the possibility of collateral damage if the operation went south. C-4, the explosive of choice for ISIS, was not inherently dangerous without a detonator. Its texture was similar to modeling clay and it could be molded into many shapes, depending upon the goal of the terrorist. In its malleable state, C-4 was stable. An explosion could only be initiated by the combination of extreme heat and a shock wave provided by a detonator.

  Hunter was not wearing his customary battle dress uniform—tan cargo pants and a black shirt. There were too many civilians and no way to know if there was a spotter near the target building. The guys opted instead for the Hawaii Five-O look—Hawaiian shirts over jeans.

  They all wore protective vests, however. The latest technological advances obtained by the Department of Defense had created foam body armor. This next generation of bulletproof vest was created with a special type of composite metal foam, or CMF. This advanced, ultralight body protection also stopped armor-piercing rounds. Not only did the CMF defeat the bullet, it smashed it into powder by absorbing its kinetic energy. Hunter wished the technology was available years ago. He’d still have several close friends if it had been.

  Montano parked the van several blocks away and the five-man team gradually unloaded onto the busy sidewalk. Hunter was teamed up with Kameel Khan, a London native who had been recruited by the DTRA about the same time that Hunter was.

  Khan, a former UK Special Forces operative, was fluent in several Arabic languages and dialects and would lead the team in, providing instructions based upon the reactions of the members of the terrorist cell within the building.

  As a devout Muslim, Khan was appalled at the disgrace brought upon his peaceful religion by the radical terrorists. Unlike many Muslims who stood idly by as more and more young men of Islamic faith became radicalized, Khan made it his life’s mission to destroy the terror in whatever form it took. Hunter liked Khan and considered him to be a good guy to have his back.

  Both Hunter and Khan carried a beach-bag-style duffle over their shoulders, which contained folding-stock AK-103s built by Russia’s Izhevsk Manufacturing Plant located in Venezuela. The DTRA always maintained a level of plausible deniability for the United States and the Department of Defense. If this mission had problems that created a public spectacle, the narrative would quickly be disseminated to the media that this was a drug heist gone bad.

  The team had worked briefly with the AK-103 rifle before leaving Fort Belvoir. This rifle, which was created just after the turn of the century, was a modification of the Russian standard-issue AK-74. Hunter liked the punch provided by the 7.62 mm rounds.

  Khan wore a replica Detroit Tigers jersey bearing the name and number of Miguel Cabrera, one of the top Venezuelan baseball players in the Major Leagues. As he and Hunter ambled down the sidewalk, they made small talk about baseball before they quickly ducked into a small garden of local botanicals and readied their weapons. They prepared their communications gear and made contact with the rest of the team.

  After the rest of the group gathered and armed themselves, they made one final check with the situation room at Fort Belvoir. The operation was a go and was apparently of particular interest to the White House, which was also following the assault in the Situation Room.

  Hunter and Khan gave the rest of the team time to take up their positions. They would not hesitate at this point. Within minutes, all hell would break loose.

  Chapter 18

  Day Seven

  Port of Spain, Trinidad

  Hunter emerged from the garden first and immediately squinted as the hot, nearly equatorial sun reflected off the pavement. Khan moved by his side and the two men walked up the slight incline toward the target. As prearranged, they talked baseball to give the appearance of two casual tourists strolling toward the public beach on the Gulf of Paria. Both men had tucked their weapons into their beach towels, which they carried close to their sides.

  As discussed in their morning briefing, Hunter and Khan would start an argument in front of the house. “Barry Bonds doesn’t deserve to be in the Hall of Fame!” shouted Hunter as he kicked off the debate.

  “Yes, he does,” Khan shouted back. “The steroids he took were legal at the time and they were available to every player. Why should his great career be discarded because he followed the rules?”

  “Because he cheated,” screamed Hunter, who kept an eye on the front of the house, watching for any perceptible movement.

  The two men went back and forth as a man opened the door and walked onto the covered porch, which ran the length of the house. A breeze blew open the man’s sport coat, revealing a handgun secured in a shoulder holster.

  “Hey, you two tourists!” the Arabic man shouted from the top step. “Move along. Go. Get out of here!”

  Khan, continuing to play his role, detected the man’s Syrian dialect. He immediately fired back in Arabic and told him to mind his own business. Furthermore, Khan yelled that the man should have anal sex with a goat, something Hunter didn’t learn until later, but which thoroughly explained the man’s reaction.

  The man shouted insults back at Khan, who deftly made his way up the three steps until he was nose to nose with the terrorist. The front door opened wider and two faces peered around the door jamb—a woman and a young boy.

  Well, that’s just great, but there’s no turning back now.

  Hunter whispered into the microphone contained within his Oakley sunglasses. “Go!”

  Without hesitation, the rest of the team sprang into action and hit the house from the rear and side entrances. Through the open doorway, Hunter saw the back door kicked open by one of the DTRA operatives. The force was so great that it knocked the door off its bottom two hinges, leaving it dangling like a broken branch on a tree.


  Two members of the team flooded the back of the house and screamed, “Lay down your weapons! On the floor!”

  Khan used his martial arts training to knock his man against the wall before he could pull his weapon. The man was doubled over, gasping for air, when Khan, with a crushing blow, brought the buttstock of his rifle down onto the base of the terrorist’s skull, knocking him out.

  Hunter rushed past Khan and entered the house with his rifle leading the way. Startled by the swiftness of the assault, a group of men huddled around a large oak dining table covered with bricks of C-4 moved away from the table with their hands raised. Hunter quickly determined that there was enough C-4 and detonation materials to sink half a dozen cruise ships.

  Gunshots rang out from upstairs as the fifth member of the team, a young man named Joey, engaged another group of terrorists. The gunfire brought the group in the dining room back to their senses and several reached for their weapons. Hunter didn’t hesitate, taking them out one by one with the AK-103.

  Through their microphones, the team all began to weigh in on the presence of terrorists and more explosives throughout the two-story home. The intel provided by the NSA was solid. This was going to be a major feather in somebody’s cap.

  With the dining room group neutralized, Hunter joined Khan as they moved deeper into the home. Upstairs, the other members of the team were taking out the remainder of the terrorists. Hunter approached a closed door with caution, signaling for Khan to remain behind him. Hunter tried the knob and was greeted with a hail of heavy-caliber bullets ripping through the door and its frame.

  Screams and shouts emanated into the home from outside. Car horns and sirens could be heard in the background as well. This operation had been going on too long. While they might be successful in taking out the threat, their ability to slip out the back door undetected was quickly disappearing.

  More bullets ripped into the door, tearing at the latch and hinges. Hunter, his back pressed against the wall, allowed the barrage to subside; then he heard the distinctive click of a spent magazine. He nodded at Khan and shouted, “Now!”

  He spun out of his protective crouch, crashed against the door, and entered the room, followed by Khan. Hunter immediately fired upon the shooter, a teenage boy of roughly fourteen years. Hunter grimaced after he filled the boy’s body with bullets.

  Khan moved to Hunter’s left, scanning the room for any sign of a threat. The gunfire had stopped and the sounds of weapons being kicked away from bodies could be heard scraping across the floors. One by one, the team checked in, announcing, “Clear.”

  “Khan, where’s the woman?” whispered Hunter into the comms.

  Hunter noticed a door at the back of the bedroom, which he assumed was a closet. Nodding to Khan, the two men carefully approached, taking up a shooting position on both sides of the door, weapons trained on the center of the entryway.

  Hunter’s heart was hammering in his chest. The smell of sweat and the copper stink of blood began to fill the air of the house. He hadn’t felt any fear or trepidation during the entire assault until now. The shuffling of feet and the friendly voices of the rest of the team filled his ears. But the job wasn’t done, was it?

  Hunter nodded at Khan to open the door to reveal the final space within the building. A long counter-height table occupied the center of a small twelve-foot-wide room. There were no windows and the walls were covered with glass cabinets. The table held several microscopes, petri dishes, and vials filled with blood. It looked like a sterile biology lab with all the bells and whistles. But why is it here?

  Chapter 19

  Day Seven

  Port of Spain, Trinidad

  Hunter moved closer to the entry, watching for any signs of movement. In the corner, a woman stood stoic in a burka, the most concealing of all Islamic veils. It was a one-piece garment that covered the face and body, leaving just a mesh screen to see through.

  “Don’t do anything crazy,” Hunter calmly said to the woman as he came closer to the door. He watched for sudden movements under her burka, indicating her intentions.

  She slowly raised her arms, signaling to Hunter that she was willing to surrender. That was when he saw the wires leading to the detonator in her right hand.

  “Get out!” screamed Hunter loud enough for the entire team to hear as he raised his weapon to fire. “Hostile with a vest! Out—out—out!”

  Anyone who had been in the Middle East theater knew about suicide bombers who were willing to sacrifice their lives by turning the brightest day into the bloodiest red nightmare. Distracted, Hunter fired and missed, as the woman had jumped from his field of view.

  He quickly turned and ran toward the room’s only window, shooting out the glass as he threw himself headfirst through the opening. Just as he cleared the window frame, he saw the pavement of the alleyway twelve feet below when the explosion ripped through the house behind him.

  The blast forced air out of the building, propelling Hunter farther away and into the adjacent building. Hunter dropped his weapon and instinctively curled into a tuck and roll position, providing maximum protection for his head. Two banana trees slowed his progress, but they were insufficient to prevent him from crashing into the block wall below.

  The lower elevation and being curled up in the fetal position probably saved Hunter from the fireball that burned the air and ignited the broad leaves of the trees. Between the blast and the impact with the wall, all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. It was the concussive effect of the blast that caused him to lose consciousness.

  *****

  Hunter woke up in an ambulance with Khan strapped onto a gurney next to him. They were both covered in blood and soot from the blast.

  “Hey, buddy,” started Khan. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

  Hunter swallowed, attempting to generate some saliva for his dry mouth. “The guys?”

  “Don’t know. If they got out, we’ll see them soon enough.”

  “This is not good,” whispered Hunter.

  Khan leaned over and whispered to Hunter, “Do you have anything broken? Can you move?”

  “I’m fine. My head is pounding, but other than that, I’m mobile.”

  “Okay, follow my lead when we arrive at the hospital,” said Khan.

  Hunter closed his eyes to relive the final moments after he’d shot the boy. His hesitation may have resulted in the deaths of the other members of his team.

  “I should’ve taken her out,” he mumbled. Hunter’s voice trailed off as he looked around the inside of the ambulance to see who was in there. A lone emergency medical technician sat at the rear of the truck, making notes on a chart. He continued. “But I’d just killed the kid. I choked.”

  “No worries, my friend,” said Khan. “Nobody expected that. Let’s get patched up and worry about the details later.”

  “Did you get a look inside the room?” asked Hunter.

  “No. It all happened so fast. If you hadn’t shouted, I’d be dead. Thank you, my friend.”

  Hunter nodded and closed his eyes, trying to catalog everything he’d seen in that makeshift biolab, none of which was expected either.

  Chapter 20

  Day Seven

  Raqqa, Syria

  For years, ISIS had surpassed al-Qaeda as the world’s most feared terrorist group. The Islamic State had a significant amount of experience in conducting both insurgent and regular warfare, although they experienced a learning curve in conducting its terrorist activities transnationally. Using Europe as a training ground, they began to perfect their craft with coordinated attacks in France, Belgium, and Sweden.

  Western powers assessed the credibility of a terrorist threat by considering two elements—intent and capability. Intelligence agencies uniformly agreed that the intent to carry out jihad was a given considering their rhetoric and repeated attempts to strike.

  But following the enhanced security measures put into place after the 9/11 attacks, terrorist victories had been largely
carried out by lone-wolf jihadists. Their weapons of choice ranged from firearms to garbage trucks.

  American defense analysts hailed the jihadists’ inability to attack the United States through traditional forms of terrorism as a great success. However, they underestimated the resolve and patience of the enemy. It was easy to forget that eight years passed between the time of the first attempt to bomb the World Trade Center and 9/11—arguably the most successful attack against the United States in its history. Not only had the enemy achieved a high body count, but despite our nation’s political rhetoric to the contrary, the terrorists achieved their ultimate goal—they terrorized American citizens.

  The use of a clandestine cell structure for organizing resistance fighters and terrorists had been used by the French Resistance in World War II and the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War. Like-minded groups of individuals came together to conduct covert activity on behalf of their cause. Patiently, they waited until they received their call to action, at which time they struck with a vengeance.

  The Islamic State had established sleeper cells in the United States for decades. Radical Islamists systematically infiltrated society, including the American government, and remained dormant until activated by a prearranged signal or event. Until recently, their ability to communicate and gather was largely unhindered until the NSA was granted more authority in terms of domestic surveillance.

  In the United States, there was a belief that Islamic sleeper cells did not exist or were not sustainable. Those analysts believed that terrorist organizations like ISIS lacked the requisite organizational skills, financing, and resources to establish a cell of operatives who sit in place and do nothing.

  They were wrong.

  Primarily through their ability to recruit ideologues into their network of homegrown terrorists, ISIS had expanded exponentially across America. Using the nation’s civil rights laws against it, Islamic fundamentalists hid behind the shield of religion to avoid intense scrutiny. Furthermore, taking advantage of America’s penchant for free speech, social media tools like Facebook, Twitter, and Snapchat became a crucial element of the terrorist organization’s arsenal.