Queen's Gambit

by M. Lorrox

  “Where is it being pulled back sir?”

  He frowns. “Please allow the official statements going out today to properly inform civilians. We don’t want panic to set in. I will tell you that the four locations are where we’ve experienced the most difficulty holding The Line recently. On the top of that list, and probably the largest loss we’ll face, is Nashville.”

  There’s a bit of murmur in the room, and Señora Diaz remains standing. The general sighs and motions to her. “Last question.”

  “Thank you, sir. Is the plan to pull the line back as little as possible or to pull back to a place with significant strategic value?”

  “Due to the increased resources our new measures require, it’s not feasible to implement them in deeply embattled areas. But, we’re not planning on pulling back too far...” He looks out and sees attentive, questioning eyes staring back at him. “Please let the media alert civilians, but I’ll tell you all now that The Line will be withdrawn from Nashville, Birmingham, Montgomery, and Mobile. Our new measures are being deployed as we speak in Chattanooga, Columbus, and Pensacola, which will compose the new Southern States Defense Line.”

  Sadie stands and folds her hands in front of her waist. She tries to look as unassuming and pleasant as possible.

  Señora Diaz sits, and the general, seeing Sadie, shakes his head. “No more questions.”

  “Sir, if you please. Will The Line near Nashville be withdrawn back to Knoxville or along Route 40?”

  The general squints at her.

  “I live in that area, sir. I apologize for being overly sympathetic.”

  He sighs. “We’re giving up as little territory as possible, carving out Nashville from Bowling Green, to Lebanon, to Murfreesboro.” He glances around the room and raises his hands. “I will not discuss this further; I have additional announcements to make.”

  Sadie sits.

  “Dr. Melgaard, our top scientist researching the zombie virus, has made an important discovery. This information is classified. I need all observing individuals to leave the room.”

  People sitting at tables along the perimeter slowly start to get up.

  The general clears his throat. “Please, clear the room immediately and bring all personal items with you. Anything left behind will be removed and subject to search.”

  After the observers leave and the vacated areas are checked for anything left behind, General Riley gives a signal, and guards take position at every door. He approaches the microphone again. “Thank you for your patience. The following information is classified. Releasing any of this information to the public will be a punishable offense. Dr. Melgaard, if you please.”

  From a table toward the front, Lars stands and makes his way to the stage. He carries a cup of coffee with him, all the way to the microphone. “We had a breakthrough last night. Dr. Baker, one of my research assistants, discovered something that we can use to subdue the virus.”

  Murmur spreads throughout the room.

  “Before anyone asks if we have a cure, the answer is no, not yet. However, we have discovered a way in which the virus can be temporarily blocked. We have developed a sort of inoculation that can protect an individual from infection for a period of approximately eight hours, but there are dangers inherent in its use.”

  He rubs his eyes and yawns. “Please excuse me, it’s been a long night.” He takes a sip of coffee. “As I was saying, the inoculation serum we’ve developed works for only a few hours, and can only safely be taken once every few days. So far, we can only keep this serum viable by keeping it in a toxic solution. So, it can keep you from turning into a zombie, but if more than one dose is taken before the serum is completely expelled from the individual, they will likely go through severe renal shock, causing death. Initial tests on samples have shown a 100% success rate at preventing infection—of all currently collected strains of the virus—however, we cannot in good faith test the serum on a healthy human and attempt to infect them.”

  He takes another sip of coffee. “We are also currently limited in the delivery mechanism of the inoculating serum. I’ll spare you the technical details, but right now we can only produce a small quantity of it. We’re working hard back at the lab to find ways to increase our production and to make it safer to use. When we can get it into the hands of the brave soldiers protecting our country, we will see it’s efficacy.”

  He looks around the room. “I’m sure you have many questions, but I cannot comment further. Thank you.”

  A few people in the room stand and clap. Soon, the whole room is standing and clapping. Lars walks off the stage and returns to his seat with his coffee. High Councilor Vincent de Villablino takes the microphone. “Please, everyone, be seated.”

  He waits until everyone is quiet again. “This news shows incredible possibility, but I’m told that it also introduces a threat. The schedule today has been altered. A special joint meeting including the High Council, the War and Defense Cabinet, and select elders will meet with U.S. military officials off-site today. The remaining elders will continue with today’s itinerary under High Councilor Flaxman after we recess.”

  He pulls a list out of his pocket. “I ask the following elders to accompany us off-site today: Dr. Penelope Peeters, Dr. Aharon Fugleberg, and Mrs. Sadie Costanza.” He folds the paper and looks out over the room. He notices Sadie in the crowd, and he locks gazes with her. “Also, be aware: tonight’s public presentation with Prime Minister Zaman is still on schedule. This alteration to the itinerary only affects our daytime meetings.” He forces a smile. “I am looking forward to tonight’s meeting, and I will see you all again at that time. Right now, we will take a thirty-minute recess. Everyone I’ve listed for the off-site meeting, please come join me up front. Thank you.”

  Aharon turns to Sadie and shrugs. “Well, I can understand why you’re being called to this, but why me?”

  She shrugs back. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Skip works with Minnie on her homeschooling in the Costanzas’ bedroom, while Charlie, Eddy, and June talk in the living room. Charlie opens a folder and removes some printouts. “This is the subject you identified June, his name is Andrew James Martin. He could be using Blackjack as an alias; his middle name starting with a J makes it even more plausible. Any chance you can recognize him?”

  She takes the papers and flips through them. A picture of him in sunglasses at the beach. A picture of him standing beside another man at a wedding. A military ID photo. A picture of him bending down with a compound bow, holding up the giant, antlered head of a large buck. A picture of him with a glass of wine. “What are these, profile photos?”

  Charlie chuckles. “Yeah, that and the military picture. The FBI is working on snapping a high-quality image of him in the hotel uniform, but this is what we’ve got so far. What do you think, is it him?”

  June tries to imagine his face with a cigarette and his body in the hotel uniform. She sighs. “I dunno, maybe. He kinda looks like the guy, but I can’t say that he is the guy. Something’s different.”

  Charlie looks at the time and texts Schermer. “I think there’s only one thing to do, but it’ll be a little tricky.”

  Eddy looks up from the images. “What’s that?”

  Charlie looks at June. “Go get your dad, he’ll want to hear this... And Eddy, call Jules, tell her to send up a sitter, immediately.”

  Jules doesn’t send a sitter; she sends Katlyn Bergström, the children’s activity coordinator. After a very brief discussion with Eddy, Katlyn takes Minnie out of the suite. She has an activity planned in a few minutes, and she brings Minnie with her.

  Katlyn leads a skipping Minnie through the hotel. As soon as she opens the doors to the room where she’s hosting the activity, Minnie explodes inside.

  Kids! Lots of kids! She runs over to the closest group and beams at them.

  One of them looks at her an
d waves. “Hi, I’m Tommy, and this is Herbert.” He twists his little eight-year-old torso and reveals a floppy, turquoise-blue stuffed dog under his arm.

  “Ahhh!” Minnie leaps into the air.

  Katlyn is right behind her. “Minnie, are you okay?”

  “HI TOMMY AND HERBERT, I’M MINNIE AND THIS IS VALENTINE!” She shoves the stuffed unicorn outward with both her arms. The little ribbons she has for her mane and tail whip forward and snap with the violence of Minnie’s thrust. Valentine’s poor stuffed head slams against her back and then flops all the way forward to her belly.

  The other kids laugh. “Nice to meet you!” “Yeah, nice to meet you!”

  Katlyn laughs then claps her hands. “Alright everyone, I’m sorry I’m few minutes late, but now it’s time to start.” She turns and walks toward the middle of the room where some small craft stations are set up—each with its own hunk of clay and a tiny bowl of water.

  “Children, if I can have your attention? If you have any stuffed friends or relatives with you, you may want to set them aside or leave them with a grown up. We’re going to get messy!”

  “Yay!”

  Herbert, Tommy’s stuffed friend, is shot through the air in Tommy’s mom’s direction. She barely notices and catches the little stuffed doggy before it hits her in the chest. Ha! Nice throw. She carries Herbert over to the wall and sits with some other adults.

  Minnie watches Herbert’s caretaker, then she looks down at Valentine. She musters the courage and sprints over to the woman. “Hello, this is Valentine, can you watch her for me?”

  Jennifer smiles. “I would love to get to know Ms. Valentine. But what is your name, dear?”

  “I’m Minnie, and thank you!” She sets Valentine down slowly, but as soon as Minnie no longer touches the stuffed unicorn, she spins and runs back to the center of the room to take a station.

  Jennifer sets Valentine beside Herbert, where they can both look out and watch.

  Once all the children are settled, Katlyn plays a quick name game with them. Then, she works the crowd of children and gets them to make funny noises and faces while they squish and squash the clay.

  The pieces are in place for one last attempt to make a positive identification of the subject and to follow him to the bomb. Agent Harding of the FBI, a harsh-looking man with a mustache who probably won the Heisman trophy in college, supervises the operation and watches the scene through binoculars from the HQ room on the fourth floor. Video surveillance teams record footage from all possible exits of the target hotel and pipe it into the HQ. Charlie watches the video streams along with another agent. Undercover FBI operatives are stationed at all the street corners of the hotel, and agents in cars circle the block. Off-site, a surveillance team has staked out Andrew’s home, and a SWAT team with a bomb squad hides inside a run-down looking taco truck parked nearby. Everyone awaits orders.

  The hotel the subject works at is about a block north of the Pentagon City metro station. Skip, June, and Eddy sit near a bus stop beside the tunnel to access the underground station. Skip pretends to read a newspaper, while Eddy and June sip from a bottle. June wears her green-lensed sunglasses, but much to Eddy’s initial surprise, he wasn’t allowed his red-framed ones.

  He does get a skateboard though.

  June points to it. “You ever even ridden one of those?”

  Eddy has it standing upright. He spins it in his fingers. “Not really, but don’t worry. I’ve been on one before, they sell ’em in department stores.”

  June scowls. “You rode one around a store?”

  “Well, just the aisle, but I know how to balance on them and steer. I’ll be fine.”

  June looks off to the side and winces. “Charlie says it’s almost ten, so you need to be ready.”

  Skip leans over. “Earpiece still too loud?”

  She nods. “Yeah, even turned all the way down.” She elbows Eddy. “Your stupid awesome hearing has some drawbacks.”

  He laughs. “You’ll get used to it.”

  She grimaces again as a voice enters her ear. “Activity at exit two.”

  June holds up a finger. Eddy and Skip hold their breath.

  “Not the subject.”

  She drops her hand and shakes her head. She fidgets with her hands in her lap.

  Skip clears his throat. “Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  Eddy leans over. “It’s gonna work.”

  She sighs.

  Minutes pass. More false alarms. Then, another alert comes over the channel and everyone responds.

  “Activity at exit one. Subject confirmed.”

  June nods to Eddy. “Exit one.”

  Eddy plops down the skateboard and hops on. He pushes off and starts moving toward the hotel.

  “Subject has a backpack. Walking south.”

  South, okay, get up. June walks toward the bus schedule posted on a pole near the road. Skip stands up and pretends to stretch, but he stays beside the bench.

  Eddy looks for the subject near the front of the hotel. There’s a bunch of people walking around, some toward him, some away. Alright, where are ya, ugly?

  Charlie sees the subject on a monitor. Good, he’s walking toward us. Plan A.

  “Johnson, pick him up at the corner.”

  There you are. Eddy rolls the skateboard toward the man. He pulls out his phone as he skates along and looks down at it. He laughs and pushes hard against the ground, steering straight into him.

  “Hey!” Andrew jumps mostly out of the way, but he shoots his elbow out to hit Eddy.

  Eddy takes the hit and flies off the board onto the ground. “Ugh! What the?”

  The man turns and snarls at Eddy. “Watch where you’re going!”

  Eddy looks at him, acting startled. “Oh. Sorry dude, didn’t see ya.”

  Schermer watches the scene as she smokes a cigarette nearby. She takes a small puff. Give me the signal.

  Andrew looks into Eddy’s green eyes. God damn bloodsucker. “Ugh, Whatever.”

  He turns and continues to walk toward June. He speaks under his breath, and might not truly make any sound, but while June watches him, he curls his lip and mouths the word FREAK, and she hears the word in his voice.

  Freaks. The same voice. It’s him. She turns away from the bus schedule and pitches her bottle into a nearby trash can.

  Skip smiles. Thank goodness. She did it.

  Schermer lifts her wrist to her mouth. “Confirmed as target, I repeat, target confirmed.” She crushes out her cigarette and spins around the corner.

  Eddy gets back on the skateboard and continues around the block. He turns and loses sight of June and Skip.

  Andrew slants his walk toward the metro escalators near the corner of the street.

  “He’s going to the metro. Connor, get in position on the platform.”

  June listens to the information over the radio and relaxes. They’re on it, they’ll get him. She exhales and closes her eyes for a moment.

  Andrew notices something on the street. Well, that’s lucky timing. He turns around and jogs back in the other direction.

  “Johnson, get on him!”

  June glances up. A bus stops in front of her. People from all around rush to get on. Andrew runs and steps in. June glances up the street to the corner and sees a man running toward the bus as well, but he’s over fifty feet away. That’s gotta be Johnson, and he’s not gonna make it. She glances back at her dad who smiles at her. He looks proud.

  The doors to the bus start to close. She jumps inside without the doors touching her—faster than a normal person could—and they shut behind her. She looks at the surprised driver. “Whew, close one!”

  The driver pulls into traffic. “I’d say so. I’m behind schedule—pay the fare.”

&n
bsp; June fishes out some cash, pays, and finds a seat toward the back of the bus, right behind Andrew. She looks out the side window. Her dad tries to run around a guy drinking a smoothie and carrying groceries, but Skip gets tripped up and crashes into the other man. The groceries spill across the sidewalk, the thirty-two-ounce mango smoothie splashes across Skip’s chest, and both men tumble to the ground.

  June grimaces and faces forward. Sorry, Dad. I had to.

  All Charlie can do, as he watches from the HQ room, is shake his head.

  Agent Harding screams through the radio. “Where are the cars? Get them on it! What number’s the bus? Can we get an agent on the bus? Damn it!”

  Skip is quick to get back to his feet. The bus caught green lights, and it’s speeding off.

  “What the hell’s your problem man?” The knocked over guy struggles to get up.

  “Sorry, emergency.” Skip runs across the street, dodges honking cars headed in both directions, and bolts into the hotel. Need Charlie. He’s on the fourth floor.

  Inside, Skip takes the stairs. When he reaches the fourth floor, he blasts down the hall to the HQ room.

  Charlie saw Skip crossing the street, and he steps out of the room to meet his friend.

  “You saw what happened?” Skip huffs a breath as he slows.

  “Yeah, they’re…working on it.”

  Skip points at Charlie. “You bring her back!”

  He nods. “Buddy, I will. I promise.”

  Skip closes his eyes and shakes his head. “AARRGH!”

  “Skip, I’ll get her, okay? But I have to go back in there to do it.”

  Skip twitches, makes his hands into fists, and slams them down at his sides. “FUCK!”

  Charlie nods. “Yeah, I’m right there with ya. Keep your phone handy, I’ll text when I have something.”

  Skip stomps away, dripping a mango-smoothie trail. “Going to the room. Gotta change.”