Light of the Last

by Chuck Black

  President Harden glanced toward Ward, Ross, and Dougherty. Drew continued.

  “Two days from now, over one hundred suicide terrorists will infect themselves with the Ebola virus. Six days later on September eleventh, when they are all contagious, they will begin spreading the virus to tens of thousands of people. Within two weeks, millions of Americans will be infected. Within a month, the Ebola epidemic will be unstoppable. This terrorist attack will make the concerted attacks of 9/11 seem insignificant by comparison.”

  The silence in the room was deafening.

  “Mr. President, the United States of America won’t survive. The terrorists are suicide bioterrorists who, in the name of Islam, consider it their duty to Allah to destroy us.”

  The president looked to Ross for some assurance that what he’d heard was true.

  “The threat is real, sir,” Ross said.

  “God help us!” President Harden said.

  Drew glanced at Ross and noticed he was studying Ward and Dougherty.

  “Ebola needs a living host to survive, doesn’t it?” Ward asked. “How will they do it?”

  “We believe they’ve kept an active Ebola virus alive using hostages as incubators for months,” Drew said. “They plan on using ‘trigger’ carriers and a number of infection locations throughout the US to spread the virus to the suicide bioterrorists.”

  President Harden ran his fingers through his hair. Horror filled his eyes. “How reliable is this information, Carter? Are you sure?”

  Drew hesitated. His response would dictate how seriously the president would take the threat. “Nothing is one hundred percent, sir, but we’ve confirmed a suicide terrorist training camp in Pakistan with Ebola, and we’ve confirmed 112 terrorists that have landed in the US who were trained there. The Mossad has also given us warning. It’s happening, sir, and we don’t have much time to respond.”

  Harden nodded. “Have we identified and located the suicide bioterrorists or the trigger hosts?”

  “No sir. And we don’t know the infection locations. We’re working on that.”

  “How do you know the IGA is behind this?” Harden asked.

  Drew looked at Ross. This was his question.

  “With the intel I’ve gathered over the last three years and with recent intel we just received from the Mossad, we have direct links of eight recent terrorist attacks that tie Jabbar and the IGA with Hamas, ISIS, Al-Qaeda, the Muslim Brotherhood, and Al-Shabaab. Jabbar used the attacks to gain political power and influence, often thwarting the terrorist plots at the last minute to look like the hero.”

  Harden’s face turned from fear to anger. He looked at Ward and then at Dougherty.

  “Get a hold of my chief of staff, and have him call an emergency cabinet meeting. Now!”

  “Yes sir,” Dougherty said. He jumped up and hurried out of the room.

  Harden turned to Ward. “Blast it, Ward, how did you let it get this far? The IGA…really?”

  Ward was difficult to read. Anger, embarrassment, frustration? He fidgeted with the folder in front of him. “It’s a good thing Ross ran his own operation or we would be walking ignorantly into oblivion. Ross, I want you to take lead on this. You will have any and every resource you need. I want you to pre-brief Alex Webb, director of Homeland Security, prior to the cabinet meeting.”

  Ross continued. “You should also know, Mr. President, that the IGA is getting help from someone deep inside our government. I had three other agents on this operation, and they were all assassinated. Agent Carter is the only one left. Although unconfirmed, I believe Senator Hanson’s murder was also a result of the mole.”

  Harden turned an icy glare toward Ward. The director’s cheeks flushed slightly.

  “I’m reading extreme stress in the face of the subject thirty degrees to your right,” Alice said, but Drew was already getting cues from Validus and his men. The warriors had their hands on the handles of their swords and were eyeing Ward closely.

  Ward opened his mouth to answer, but Dougherty reentered the room carrying a briefcase.

  “Marine One is on its way to pick you up, sir. The cabinet members are being called and will convene as soon as we get you back to the White House. I’ve sent an agent to Aspen Lodge to let the First Lady and your children know you will be leaving immediately.” Dougherty walked back to his seat and set the briefcase on the table. “Mr. Ross, who else knows our situation? Is there anybody else who might have pertinent information we should call to the meeting?”

  Ross shook his head. “Agent Carter put it all together this afternoon. This is our first briefing. We are the only four.”

  “Good,” Dougherty said as he unlatched the briefcase and lifted the lid.

  Drew saw the expression of Validus and his men change from concern to all-out alarm. Validus drew his sword, but six dark invaders collapsed on him and his men, materializing through the roof at once.

  For one fraction of a second, Drew questioned his decision to believe if what he was seeing was real or still some figment of his subconscious. What if he reacted and made a fool of himself in front of the president and the director? His chance to stop the terrorist attacks would be over before it started.

  But that slight mental hesitation proved to be deadly, for in that fraction of a moment, the terrorist attack on America began, and Drew was too late to stop it.

  Despite realizing how serious of a threat Dougherty was to Carter, there was little Validus could do to stop whatever was about to happen. The Fallen were on him in full force, and these were some of Apollyon’s best.

  How had they missed this? Validus chided himself for relying on Malak’s men for information on the IGA’s infiltration into the United States government. Obviously Dougherty was a sleeper agent and had been for a long time. Then it dawned on Validus that the mistake had probably happened on his watch as North American continental commander—a mistake that could prove to be unrecoverable.

  Validus’s sword flew to meet the onslaught of vicious attacks that came at him. With extreme skill and overpowering force, the Fallen pushed Validus back and out of the conference room. Just outside the lodge, every one of his men was fully engaged with an assault team of Fallen. They were all fighting for their lives. Where were the reinforcements that Malak said would be standing by?

  Validus’s team paired up to cover one another’s backs.

  “We need to get back into that conference room. First team to break loose covers Carter!” Validus shouted above the fray.

  The seven warriors eliminated multiple waves of Fallen, and yet with each second that passed, Validus knew that Carter’s chance of survival diminished exponentially. He began taking risks he had never taken before in an attempt to get to his charge. Something akin to panic welled up inside him as his fight became desperate. Time dragged on with no break in the fight.

  Validus eventually maneuvered toward Rake and positioned himself to take on his fight long enough to allow the swift angel to break free.

  “Get to Carter, now!” Validus ordered.

  26

  THE FATE OF THE NATION

  Dougherty lifted a Glock 17 with suppressor out of the briefcase.

  Drew’s first glimpse of the deadly black weapon caused an explosion of synaptic responses, but he was too late to act on any of them. He had no weapons, there was a broad, five-foot oak table between them, and there was nothing behind which to take cover. He set his hands on the table to give himself leverage as Alice voiced a warning in his ear.

  “Warning! Weapon twelve o’clock.”

  The muzzle was pointed directly at Drew’s chest. “Careful, Agent Carter. No sudden moves.” Dougherty spoke as casually as if he were holding a cell phone. “Besides, these bullets aren’t for you, not yet.”

  Drew watched Dougherty’s finger flatten against the trigger. He calculated his response vector, but at the last second, the muzzle turned ten degrees, and one hollow-point 9mm round ripped through Ross’s abdomen.

  “
No!” Drew screamed as he tried to shield Ross with his body, but it was too late. Ross slumped in Drew’s arms as he fell out of the chair. Blood soaked Drew’s hands as he gently laid Ross on the floor. One bullet to the abdomen was no accident. Dougherty wasn’t trying to kill Ross, he was trying to torture him. Whatever was coming, he wanted Ross to hear it before he died.

  Drew turned and glared at Dougherty, calculating the odds of his attack.

  “What are you doing!” Ward exclaimed. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Shut up, Ward,” Dougherty said with a calm voice. “You were the one who gave the kill orders for the other three agents. In your incompetence you didn’t know there was a fourth, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

  The president hadn’t moved. Horror laced his face.

  “Don’t look so shocked, Harden,” Dougherty said. “This is what it looks like up close and personal. You pretend to run the world from your ivory tower, untouched by the grisly consequences of your orders. You’re both pathetically weak.”

  President Harden finally broke from his stupor. “You idiot!” he exclaimed. “Ross is the key to stopping this terrorist attack!”

  Harden started to stand up, but Dougherty shoved him back in his chair. “Sit down, Harden.”

  Ward jumped to his feet. “You are mad, Dougherty!”

  Dougherty aimed the Glock at Ward. “Not mad, Ward, just committed.”

  Ward’s eyes widened. He held up his hands. “Calm down, Michael, we’ll handle this.”

  Dougherty sneered. “Shut up and sit down.”

  Ward slowly sat, his eyes glued to the Glock. This was Drew’s chance, while Dougherty was distracted.

  “Don’t be stupid, Carter,” Dougherty said as he turned the pistol to the president’s head. “The president will be dead before you reach the table.”

  “Had to expose them,” Ross whispered.

  Drew looked down at the man who had trusted him, who had seen potential that no other had.

  Ross winced. “You’re not here by accident.”

  Drew touched a preset sequence on the left arm of his jacket.

  “Sit down, Agent Carter. Now!”

  Ross nodded, and Drew returned to his chair just as a rogue Secret Service agent entered the room. Odds were diminishing fast.

  “What amazes me is how easy it was to get both of you to betray your own country,” Dougherty said.

  Drew glared at Director Ward, then at President Harden.

  “What are you talking about?” the president said carefully. “You’re the one betraying us!”

  “Oh really? What about the five terrorist attacks that you approved in New York, Texas, California, Washington, and Illinois on American citizens?” Dougherty pulled out a two-way radio and clicked the transmit button. “Clear.”

  “Dougherty, you treasonous pig! Those attacks were based on your recommendation. You said the people needed a push toward global unification,” President Harden said.

  “And it worked, didn’t it?” Dougherty smiled. “Premier Jabbar and the IGA condemned the attacks and worked with the US intelligence offices to provide invaluable information and resources to thwart the next three attacks. President Harden and Premier Jabbar are heroes, the American people are safe, and global unification begins. Except that we are not really concerned about global unification. We are more interested in global domination. Allah is God and will rule the world through his people!”

  “Code Viper! Code Viper!” President Harden shouted to the Secret Service agents outside the door.

  Dougherty walked behind Harden and gruffly shoved the muzzle of the gun up against his temple. “Save your breath, Harden. All agents not loyal to the IGA have been killed, and tomorrow morning when the UN takes over and your pathetic Marines are gone, we will have complete control. Oh yes, and in case you’re wondering, the agents guarding your lovely wife, son, and daughter are mine too. If you don’t do exactly as I say, I will have them killed right now.”

  Drew added that variable as he calculated strategies. The odds were turning grim fast.

  The radio clicked on. “In position.”

  “Roger. Send him in,” Dougherty radioed back.

  The door opened and a man dressed like a Secret Service agent stepped in carrying another briefcase. He walked to the table and set the case down.

  “Our bleeding friend Ross over there has unfortunately forced my hand, but we have a contingency.”

  The man snapped open the locks and handed Dougherty a transmitter, then lifted out a syringe. Dougherty pointed the gun back at Ward. “Him first,” Dougherty ordered. “Show them the syringe.”

  Inside the syringe was a light green liquid that seemed to be in a constant state of motion.

  “Each syringe contains millions of nanobots engineered to find clogged arteries and clear them, compliments of a Swiss technology firm. Unfortunately they found it difficult to control the little devils. But where they found frustration, we found opportunity. These nanobots are kept in a suppressed state by a signal from this transmitter.” Dougherty entered a code, and the greenish liquid immediately became still. “I must enter a secure code every thirty minutes for each of you or the signal linked to your nanobots stops. When the signal stops, they are no longer suppressed, and they do exactly what they’re supposed to do and more. It turns out that the nanobots can’t tell the difference between a clogged artery and a healthy one. They just don’t know when to stop. The poor test monkeys bled to death internally in a matter of minutes. They tell me it was rather gruesome to watch.”

  “Your arm,” the man ordered.

  “What are you doing? Just tell us what you want,” the president said.

  “You can’t give me what I want, Harden. That’s why I have to take it.”

  Ward looked like he was about to retaliate, but Dougherty shot a round into the headrest beside Ward’s left ear.

  “Don’t worry, Ward. As long as you do what I say—and stay within fifty or so feet of me at all times—the nanobots are harmless.”

  Slowly Ward put out his arm. The Secret Service agent grabbed it, located his vein, then inserted the needle of the syringe. Ward winced as the fluid slowly disappeared into his bloodstream.

  Dougherty smiled. “Now Harden.”

  The man prepared to repeat the procedure on the president.

  “Why, Dougherty? Why are you doing this?” President Harden asked.

  “I need to make sure that no matter what happens in the next few days, you will do exactly as I say. With my little nanobots, your puppet strings just got stronger.” Dougherty smiled as he gloated over Harden and Ward. “America is the great Satan, and it is time for you to die. This is a glorious time. With America gone, we will wipe the people of Israel from the face of the earth. Our messiah has come—the Twelfth Imam has returned, and now is our time to rule the world! But before peace comes, we must purge the world of infidels.”

  The greenish liquid in the syringe emptied into the vein of President Harden.

  “I trusted you, Dougherty. I chose you to be my senior advisor!”

  Dougherty laughed. “Ha! You didn’t choose me. We chose you. You’re nothing but a puppet whose strings are being pulled to perform a much greater purpose.”

  “You’ll never get away with this,” Ward said.

  “Oh yes, I will, and you’re going to help me.”

  Dougherty motioned to Drew with the Glock. The Secret Service agent reached for another syringe. Drew knew that Dougherty had no reason to keep him alive. He’d already shot Ross. President Harden and Director Ward were necessary to control so that the terrorist attack could be carried out without interruption, but Drew was only a threat and very expendable. He was surprised he hadn’t already been shot. Then he realized he was going to be used as a guinea pig to show Harden and Ward what would happen to them if they didn’t follow Dougherty’s instructions to the letter.

  The man stood next to Drew. “Take off your coat.”

&
nbsp; Drew stood up and took off his coat. He stuck out his arm as if feigning a “do your worst” attitude. As the man set the needle against his right arm, Drew saw that the nanobots had not been suppressed—the liquid was in a constant state of motion.

  Drew grabbed the man’s wrist with his left hand while simultaneously sliding his right hand into a position that allowed him to rotate the man’s hand and snap the bones in his wrist. Before the syringe hit the floor, Drew caught it, then spun the screaming man in front of him just as the first of three rounds from Dougherty’s gun reached them. The bullets penetrated Drew’s human shield, and in the split second following, Drew threw the syringe directly at Dougherty before he could react.

  The needle plunged completely into his throat. Dougherty dropped the gun and the nanobot transmitter to reach for the imbedded syringe as Drew cast the body of his shield aside and lunged at the rogue senior advisor. The impact pushed the plunger of the syringe halfway down, dispensing less than half of the active nanobots into Dougherty’s neck, but it was enough. Dougherty’s eyes bulged with terror as he became a victim of his own ghastly plan.

  Drew rolled to the gun and came up on target just as the door opened and two more of Dougherty’s men entered. Four perfectly aimed shots put them down. He didn’t have time to waste. If there were more outside the room, there would be no chance of saving Ross, Ward, the president, or the United States.

  He dove through the door into a somersault, knowing that anyone alive outside the room would belong to Dougherty. As he came up on his knee, he had already positioned three men and unleashed one round into the chest of each of the first two men. By the time he acquired and targeted the third, one bullet had been fired and another was imminent. Drew began to twist, but there was not enough time or distance to avoid the bullets.