by David Spell
He recounted Fleming's and Smith's adventures in the North Georgia foothills. The three men were surprised at this turn of events and sensed that these were not isolated incidents.
"How many of these terrorist cells are out there?" Jay asked rhetorically.
"Who knows?" said McCain. "Thankfully, Andy and Scotty were able to eliminate most of the terrorists, but two or three got away. I'm sure we'll be hearing from them soon. The preliminary report from forensics is that there were no traces of the virus or nuclear waste in the debris at that scene in North Georgia."
"Yeah, who would've thought we'd look forward to the day of just a normal suicide bomber armed with conventional explosives?" said Eddie.
There were nods and grunts of assent to Marshall's observation.
"Chuck, do you have any idea who those dudes were who took Hill? Who they worked for or where they might have been headed?" asked Tu. "I mean we had him under arrest and they just came and whisked him away. Jay knew one of them and I knew the other. The guy that was driving the van was a Seal Team Sixer who went to work for the CIA. The one that I knew was Army SF and then got recruited by Delta. That was the last I heard of him."
McCain glanced at Marshall, wondering what he had told them when Terrell Hill had taken away. Eddie's face was impassive. He merely raised an eyebrow towards Chuck.
Without answering Trang's question, McCain reached into his bag and pulled out two disclosure forms. He handed one to both of the DC CDC officers.
"You guys have seen these before. Sign them and I'll enlighten you."
Chuck didn't know if he was authorized to brief Walker and Trang on the CIA's involvement in the CDC Enforcement Unit or not, and sometimes, it was just easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. Both men, however, had extensive special operations experience and had worked with the CIA in the Middle East. These guys were sharp and it would be better for them to have accurate information about what was going on.
Jay and Tu merely nodded and grunted as Chuck explained the CIA's ongoing operation on American soil to combat the Muslim terrorists. When he finished, Jay just shrugged.
"Pretty slick. That explains why the intel we get is so good and why we don't have a problem with funding. The Agency has pretty deep pockets. And I really like the idea of Terrell Hill in the hands of one of their special interrogation teams."
"I know all of your guys are trustworthy but you can't tell them any of this," said McCain. "Loose lips sink ships and all that stuff. We just can't take a chance on a leak that could hit the media and get us shut down."
At that moment, all of their phones began to vibrate with incoming texts. McCain's also kept vibrating with an incoming call. Chuck looked at his screen and realized Shaun Taylor, Admiral William's Assistant, was calling. He noted the time. 1710 hours.
#
New York City, Friday, 1715 hours
In Manhattan, the Nissan Sentra exploded, killing one hundred and twenty-seven people. Most of these were pedestrians, construction workers at the site adjacent to the post office building where the car bomb had been parked, or were in passing vehicles. Others were killed inside nearby buildings from the force of the blast and the incoming shrapnel. The powerful car bomb also set off the fuel tanks of six nearby cars, creating devastating secondary explosions.
Windows were blown out of buildings three blocks away, with nails, screws, and ball bearings claiming victims hundreds of feet away. Those closest to the explosion were obliterated. Victims further back were killed or wounded and infected with the mixture of nuclear waste and the zombie virus.
Overturned cars and trucks blocked the intersection of Church Street and Vesey Street. Within minutes, victims became predators as the bio-terror chemical did its work. Some of the infected were grotesquely wounded but still began hunting for fresh meat to feed on. A bloody woman with one arm blown off at the shoulder shuffled north on Church Street, away from the devastation. A man who was missing both of his arms followed her. Before long, growling figures were moving in both directions through the fire, smoke, and carnage. A teenage boy, who had lost both legs in the blast and had bled to death, was now dragging his torso up the sidewalk, growling and snapping his mouth open and closed.
Zombies who were inside their vehicles began forcing their way out. The mixture of nuclear materials and the virus was having an interesting effect on the newly reanimated. One businessman who had been struck and killed by shrapnel was trapped inside his car a half block away. When the radioactive version of the virus took effect, he was able to kick open the passenger door, almost ripping it from the car. The infected man, wearing an expensive suit and tie, smelled a survivor in the white Audi behind him. The German car was heavily damaged but the zombie easily forced open the jammed door and pulled a screaming woman into the street where he held her down and ripped out her jugular with his teeth.
Sirens drew closer as police and fire units responded to 911 calls. The first fire truck pulled up next to the woman with one arm. She had walked almost a block, not finding a victim yet. As the firemen jumped off their truck to help her, she used her one hand to grab the closest first responder and, with almost supernatural strength, pull his face to her mouth. The fireman screamed in pain and tried to push the crazy woman away. Her teeth sunk into his cheek and then ripped at his neck.
One of his companions attempted pull the bloody female attacker off his friend. The zombie turned on the second fireman, biting his forearm. The bite didn't penetrate his heavy protective jacket, but the infected woman threw him to the ground and straddled him, sinking her teeth into his Adam's apple.
As the third fireman grabbed the back of the zombie's jacket and tried to pull her off, the infected man who was missing both arms slammed into him, biting at his back. His jacket also protected this fireman, but the attacking woman quickly turned on him and together, the two zombies knocked him down and began to chew on his face and throat.
The first NYPD cruiser skidded to a stop behind the fire truck and the two officers jumped out, surveying the carnage all around them. Smoke hung in the air and burning cars filled the street for almost a block. Incredulous, they watched as a one-armed, bloodied woman and crazed man without any arms assaulting some of their FDNY counterparts.
The two officers rushed to the aide of their fire department brethren. As they got to where the struggle was taking place they both froze at what they saw. Two bloody fireman were struggling to get to their feet. The injured woman and man turned towards their newest victims, growling and snapping their teeth together in anticipation. A growl suddenly came from the third prone fireman and he clambered to his feet, as well.
Both police officers realized at the same time that New York had been infected again. They drew their pistols and started backing towards their cruiser, thirty feet away. The woman leapt towards the police, her legs stronger than they had been in life. She landed in front of the closest policeman and grabbed for his neck. He fired a single shot under her chin, the 9mm round penetrating her brain and sending her to the pavement.
The second officer managed to get to the police car and was standing behind the open passenger door. He raised his pistol and sighted in on the armless man's forehead, dropping him instantly and permanently The first officer ran and dove into the driver's seat. His partner got in and they locked the doors. The officer in the passenger seat called the dispatcher and tried to give a status update.
The three infected firemen reached the police car and without hesitation punched through the passenger window and dragged the officer out. The driver tried to grab his friend's gun belt to keep him in the car but two of the zombie firemen were already ripping at the officers flesh as he hung screaming, halfway out of the car.
The first officer never saw the third fireman who punched through his window and snatched him out by the head. By this time, other newly-infected people joined the firefighters as they ripped the police officers apart. The sound of sirens got closer as other emergency vehicles
closed in on the scene.
Ali stood uncomfortably on the packed subway train as it started north. He felt that every infidel's eyes were on him and he knew that at any moment someone would shout an alarm. The sweat dripped off of him. The explosive vest was not made for comfort. On the plus side, if someone did try to apprehend him on the subway, he could easily activate the suicide garment and kill many of Allah's enemies.
He grasped the dangling strap with his left hand to hold him steady as the train sped along. His kept his right hand near his waist line where he could either reach for his pistol or the detonator in his pocket. Ali decided he would try and use the pistol first if he was detected. To set off the vest, he would need to take the detonator out of his pocket, remove the safety pin, and then squeeze the two handles together.
This was New York, however, and no one paid any attention to the sweaty Muslim man wearing traditional Islamic clothing. New Yorkers saw these everyday and Ali had not done anything to draw attention to himself. In ten minutes, he was climbing the steps and exiting at the City Hall metro station.
He glanced at the map that Usama had provided for him, checked his surroundings, and then hurried down City Hall Park Path. Ali checked his watch. 1655 hours. Perfect. It would take him ten or fifteen minutes to reach his last target. By that time, the car bomb would have detonated with police and fire personnel rushing to the scene. 1 Police Plaza Path, NYPD Headquarters would soon feel the wrath of Allah.
#
Washington, D.C., Friday, 1720 hours
The nation's capital was just starting to get back to normal. Most of the zombies from previous attacks had been eliminated. The local police, alongside the CDC officers, and the National Guard had been working hard on making the city safe again. The Guard troops had finally been recalled and the police were getting very few 911 calls about infected people. Tonight's busy rush hour was reminiscent of the way that life had been before the bio-terror weapon had been unleashed two months earlier.
Hassan had parked his car bomb in front of the Rayburn House office building on Independence Avenue. It is located behind the United States Capitol and housed the offices for the U.S. House of Representatives. He could not park his car within three hundred yards of the Capitol or within five hundred yards of the White House, but here, he was able to stop directly in front of the large structure. The unloading lane was only a hundred feet from the six large columns that marked the entrance.
He activated the emergency flashers, placed his note claiming car trouble on the dash, and left the vehicle, darting across the four lanes of Independence Avenue at 1646 hours. By this time, most congressmen and congresswomen had clocked out for the day. Many, representatives, however, were inside working late, meeting with constituents, discussing strategy with their teams, and a few having romantic encounters with one of their staff. Even if the explosion did not kill many of the elected officials, it would still slaughter hundreds of infidels as heavy traffic inched slowly by the building and the parked car bomb.
Once he had crossed the street, Hassan turned left and hurried down the sidewalk. His next target was five blocks in front of him. He walked as fast as he could without running to get clear of the blast zone. At 1658 hours, he arrived at the large building housing the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. Now, he just had to walk the length of the building, about a block, and turn right to get to the main entrance.
When the terrorist was halfway down the block, the car bomb exploded. Hassan felt the concussion hit him in the back and he started running towards the front entrance of the Air and Space Museum. Closing time was 1730 hours but people were already pouring out the doors to try and get a head start on the heavy DC traffic.
The detonation from the car bomb and then the secondary explosions of gas tanks going off, made the throng of pedestrians pause outside the museum. Several hundred people stopped on the large museum entrance landing, wondering what the explosions meant. The sidewalks were packed as people hurried to their nearby apartments, to where they had parked their cars, or to the Metro entrance.
Hassan pulled the detonator out of his pocket with his right hand and snatched the cotter pin out with his left. The terrorist rushed to where the biggest groups of people were gathered, listening to the detonations from down the street. He glanced up and saw that he was directly in front of the museum, only seventy-five feet from the entrance.
Hassan paused momentarily and took a deep breath. He yelled, "Allahu Akbar," and then squeezed the handles of the detonator together. Nothing happened. The people closest to Hassan sensed something was amiss and began walking quickly away from him.
He looked down at the detonator he was holding, squeezing it again. This time, Hassan disappeared in a thunderclap of an explosion. Eighty-two people were killed instantly. The blast radius for the suicide vest was over a hundred feet but shrapnel was thrown much further than that. The toxic mixture of the zombie virus and the radioactive materials was flung outward in every direction.
Pedestrians and motorists driving down both 7th Street and Independence Avenue were affected. Some victims felt a sting as a particle of glass hit them, infecting them with the bio-terror chemical blend. Within minutes, people collapsed and died. After the virus spread through their systems, they were soon climbing to their feet and looking for fresh meat.
The explosion from the terrorist's vest also blasted out the front doors of the museum, wounding many inside. There were still several hundred people inside the Smithsonian but when the doors blew inward, people started screaming and rushing to get out of the building. Only a few of those escaping had been infected, but as they rushed outside, the new zombies fell on them and quickly killed over a hundred more people.
Chaos ensued as others, seeing what was happening, were madly scrambling back inside the museum with hungry zombies pursuing them. Many of those who had remained inside were knocked down and trampled as the crowd rushed back into the museum, with zombies right behind them. Many other survivors attempted to flee down the sidewalks, scattering as a larger group of infected gave chase.
When the car bomb exploded in front of the Rayburn House Office Building, over two hundred people were killed outright, many blown apart by the powerful blast. The four lanes of Independence Avenue were packed with traffic and over one hundred cars were damaged.
The fuel tanks of nineteen cars erupted in secondary explosions within a minute of the initial blast. Depending on how much gas was in their fuel tanks, some vehicles were blown into the air and others flipped over on top of the cars next to them. Vehicle debris and parts were sent flying in every direction as these fireballs shot into the sky.
The windows of the Rayburn House were blown inwards, with nails, screws, and ball bearings cutting down people inside and infecting them with the virus. Sixteen staffers, two congressman, two US Capitol police officers, and four reporters were killed in the lobby. As the debris settled, twenty-four new zombies got to their feet and started shuffling deeper into the building, looking for those who had been spared.
In front of the building, Independence Avenue was littered with burning cars, burning people, body parts, and other debris. The road was completely blocked. Nothing survived inside five hundred feet of the explosion. Usama's car device contained seven hundred and fifty pounds of explosives, shrapnel, zombie virus, and radioactive materials.
Even over two blocks away, people were struck by debris, shrapnel, and the nuclear bio-terror virus. Beyond three blocks, people began exiting their cars to get a better look at what was happening. They had all heard and felt the explosions and could see black smoke billowing into the air.
Emergency vehicles from several nearby fire stations responded to the 911 calls but were having a slow go of it. Even with their flashing lights and sirens, there was no place for traffic to go to let the fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars get around them.
People from all walks of life abandoned their vehicles and began running towards the explosions
to see if they could be of assistance. Infected people closer to the scene climbed out of their vehicles, attacking the Good Samaritans. When the first police and fire personnel finally managed to get to the Rayburn House, these brave men and women, who had pledged to serve the public, were all overwhelmed by these zombies. Within minutes, new Zs were spreading out in every direction, going deeper into the heart of the city.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Video Games or Reality?
The Wells Fargo Building, Atlanta, Friday, 1730 hours
Paul Kowalski sat against the wall with his arms wrapped around his knees, shaking uncontrollably in the small storage room filled with office supplies. Earlier, he had been looking forward to an exciting night of playing his new video game, "The Return of the Dead," a first-person shooter involving zombies. He even laughed at himself. What a loser I am, he had thought. You're thirty-three years old, it's Friday night in the big city, and you're going home to kill zombies on the screen. Now, zombies or something like them were actually outside the door of his hiding place.
Paul was the supervisor of a team that provided IT support to several different businesses. His company, StartUp Solutions, provided a host of services for startups to midsize companies, who preferred to outsource at a reasonable price. StartUp Solutions also provided marketing and human resource support but Kowalski and his team only handled the internet technology part of the equation. It was a good job and he managed a great team of engineers and specialists.
As he was packing up his Mac Book Pro and getting ready to head home for the weekend, Paul heard the initial explosion, even on the other side of the building. His company occupied half of the 18th floor of the Wells Fargo building at the corner of 17th Street and I-85. The front entrance to the large, modern skyscraper was on 17th Street. The IT offices were on the left side of the building, opposite of the interstate. That fact saved Paul's life.