Desert Assassin

by Don Drewniak

“Yes.”

  “Probably so. That and all the attention you’ve been getting from the scientists.”

  “The sad part is that I’m no threat to his relationship with Alice. That’s one of the reasons I gave him the job of trying to get information from Morales.”

  “Looking back at our first meeting, I’m lucky you didn’t try to take me out when I threatened to recruit Henderson.”

  “I thought about it.”

  “You had every right to not only think about it, but to have done it. One of my many mistakes. Back to Ling, what is your thinking about having him question Morales?”

  “He is an astrophysicist first and an Air Force officer second.”

  “Maybe third.”

  Williams couldn’t help but think of the succession of women who passed in and out of his life. He had never loved any of them, including Alice. Now, however, in the moments when he was alone with his thoughts, he found himself thinking more and more about one who was still in his life.

  “Bill?”

  “Sorry, Jesse. I believe you’re right. Here is my thinking. We know that Morales Assassin is exceedingly intelligent and getting more so by the day.”

  “Hate to think about Assassin in combination with the Marine, or any number of them.”

  “Bad news. Back to Ling, he’s bright – very bright. I’m gambling that he might be able to figure out if Assassin has invented the meteorite story or if it’s the real thing. It’s a long shot, but maybe he will come up with something.”

  “And in the process get his head back together?”

  “Yes.”

  “Devil’s advocate. Suppose Ling totally goes over to the dark side with Morales?”

  “Every word between the two of them is being recorded.”

  “So much for my suggestion that we wire Marco.”

  With the General were Williams, Rappaport, Fowler and Mueller. Morgan was accompanied by Mitchell, McBride and Cyclo.

  “As you all know,” said the General, “there have been no sightings of any Eagle Assassins since the slaughter. However, we have no way of knowing if we completely wiped them out. We have to presume we haven’t. Even if we haven’t, in light of information we have received from Dr. Stanton and the distinct possibility that we may be dealing with an Assassin in control of one or more marines, the Eagle Assassins, if any, would seem to be the lesser of the two threats at this time. With this in mind and after consultation with Jesse and Ralston, the following changes are in the process of being completed. Ralston will take command of the search and destroy operation of Eagle Assassins. He will be assisted by Colonel Millicent Faircloth.”

  “Who is she?” asked Fowler.

  “In addition to being an outstanding colonel, she is also considered to be one of the best ornithologists on the planet. This, combined with her military skills, makes her well qualified to assist Ralston.” Looking at Rappaport, he continued, “Jim will turn his attention to helping with the eradication of any and all humanoid Assassins.”

  Mitchell stood up, shook hands all around and said, “See you all back here after we wipe out the bastards. Good luck.” He then left and boarded a waiting helicopter.

  The General continued, “As some of you know, the news about the Marine Assassin is not good. For those who haven’t heard, the marine is Captain Wayne Souza. He has a degree in mechanical engineering and was on leave from Yuma. Two tours in Afghanistan. Tough to figure what the hell he was doing around Silver City since his parents live outside of Seattle.”

  “Wife?” asked Mueller.

  “Single and we’ve come up blank on anyone he might know anywhere near Silver City. Then there’s how he became tangled with Morales and how the hell he became infected.”

  “We’ve already seen the intelligence in pulling us away from the house allowing a replicate of himself to escape,” said Williams. “Think about what Assassin has been able to do intelligence wise with a captive Morales and how much greater the potential is with a marine.”

  “Or dozens or hundreds of Marine Assassins,” added Morgan.

  “Or if he or they go after high value humans like scientists,” said Fowler.

  “Assuming, as we must, that the Assassins are rapidly increasing in number, your thoughts on whether they will stay together or spread out.”

  “I can’t imagine them doing anything but spreading out, General. They need clothing, food, equipment and weapons. If they tried to get what they need for a large group, whether by stealing, using stolen money or the money of infected victims, they have to know that we could most likely track them down.”

  “Those are my thoughts as well, Bill.

  No intelligence had been received regarding the whereabouts of one or more of the Marine Assassins. If and when something materialized, two primary teams were ready to respond. The first included Williams, Morgan, Fowler and Cyclo. The second was comprised of the General, Rappaport, McBride and Mueller. Williams’ team was backed by ten attack helicopters, each with a crew of six combat tested men. All were to be provided by Morgan and were to be stationed at scattered points within one hundred miles of the Covington’s property. Backing the General’s team were a similar number of helicopters and men which would also be scattered within the same one hundred mile radius. Two dedicated satellites and six armed drones were already providing space/air reconnaissance.

  As the discussion was drawing to an end, the General announced that his team would fly to White Sands and use it as a base. Looking at Williams and Morgan, he asked where they planned to go.

  “For now, we are staying put,” said Williams.

  “Here? Why?”

  Before either one could respond, Fowler said, “We can put everything we eat and drink at Killer Two’s on your tab.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch!”

  Once the meeting returned to order, Williams spoke, “With the set-up in the van, we’ve got all the communications we need and we are within reasonable striking distance. Plus, I’m playing a hunch that Assassin, at least one of them, may try to work his way back in this direction. He doesn’t know about what we’ve got here, but with the marine’s knowledge, he may figure there might be needed equipment and weapons.”

  Morgan’s phone rang. “It’s Marco. I’ll put him on speaker.”

  “Morg, I just had to shoot and kill Morales.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He and Major Ling were sitting in chairs about ten minutes into one of their conversations. Major Ling was his usual ten feet or so away when Morales suddenly stood up. A second later, Major Ling grabbed the left side of his neck and yelled at me, ‘Shoot him, shoot Morales!’ Major Ling never carried a weapon inside the room. I turned to Morales who was making unusual movements with his mouth, as if he were going to spit. I realized he did this just before Major Ling grabbed his neck. I dropped to the floor just as he fired at me. Whatever it was, it went over my head. I hit him with five shots. Ling then raced out of the room. Morales began to melt a few minutes later.”

  Morgan and the others listened in stunned silence as Baldarelli continued. “The soldier on duty bolted in as Ling left. I yelled at him to stay out and to call for MPs and Stanton. Staying on my knees, I turned around and began looking for whatever was fired at me. Meanwhile, the room began to stink like hell. Finally, I spotted a small amount of blood on the floor up against the wall near the door and what looked like a black half inch or so needle. That’s when I let Stanton in. By that time, Morales was nothing but a pile of brown goo. The smell was brutal. A few minutes later there was no trace of Morales.”

  “Mother of Mercy,” yelled Morgan. “What about Ling?”

  “We haven’t been able to find him, but there is no way he can get out of here.”

  “Marco,” said Williams, “find Lieutenant Henderson. Make sure there is absolutely no way Major Ling can get near her.”

  “This is General Barrington. Contact head of security. Tell him I’m ordering a lock down until Major Ling is found. When h
e is found, shoot to kill if he puts up any resistance. If he does resist, you will know it’s Assassin, not Ling.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stay in constant communication with Morgan.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You did the right thing with Morales. Thank you.”

  “We now know how Captain Souza became infected. I never imagined this when I asked Stan to take over the questioning of Morales.”

  “Why did Morales do it?” asked the General.

  “I’m guessing for the same reason one of the Marine Assassins led us away from the Covington’s house – natural selection, Assassin style,” said Cyclo. “No matter how many humanoid Assassins there are, they all believe they are one and the same. The Morales Assassin knew he was trapped. He also knew that Ling’s intelligence, knowledge and military background was of more value than what he had gained from Morales. In his mind, at least the way I see it, he was upgrading himself. Since he had very little knowledge of the complex, he might have thought that taking control of Ling would give him a chance of escaping.”

  “Could the black projectiles be tarantula hairs?”

  Cyclo continued, “More like bristles, General. I can’t imagine how he could have produced them even allowing for the fact that he may still have been part tarantula.”

  “Can’t believe I didn’t see this coming,” said Williams.

  “None of us did,” replied Morgan. “Who could have imagined that he could somehow fire projectiles, tarantula or not, loaded with his blood from his mouth?”

  “We should have paid more attention to Cyclo when he warned us about what else other than the virus Morales might have under the hood. And now we have to assume that any Marine Assassins have the same capability and who knows what else?”

  The General decided that he and his newly formed team would delay going to White Sounds until Ling was found. The news came a little short of five hours after Baldarelli’s first call to Morgan.

  “Marco, hold on until I get everyone back here with me.”

  All were assembled two minutes later.

  “Morg, about thirty-five minutes ago, an MP who was in a hallway not far from Major Ling’s room heard a gunshot from about thirty feet away and above the ceiling. Security checked the hallway above, but there was nothing – no shell, no blood. One of the guards suggested that we check for a ventilation shaft. It turns out there’s one that runs perpendicular to and above the hallway. Lieutenant Colonel Drummond, head of security, appeared with ten or so soldiers. I told him that I would like to go into the shaft alone.”

  Not a sound was uttered as the eight members of the two teams listened to Baldarelli.

  “I went in through a vent opening in a wall. The bottom of the shaft running above the ceiling was only about four feet above my head. I could see light in the shaft coming from the right. Based on how bright it was, I figured it had to be a flashlight. Once I pulled myself up, I could see the light was pointing in my direction and I could make out the shadow of a body behind it. There was no movement, so I slowly crawled toward it. It was Major Ling. Single shot to the temple.”

  Williams kicked a chair. No one else moved or said anything.

  “I’m not quite sure how to put this, but I doubt I would have had the courage and strength to do what Major Ling did. Rather than try to describe what I mean, if you’ll give me a fax number, I’ll send it to you. I can’t imagine how he did what he did.”

  Rappaport gave him the number and asked what was being done with the body.

  “A biohazard team is in the shaft right now. Dr. Stanton is taking charge of getting the Major back to the lab. He wants to know what to do about informing Lieutenant Henderson.”

  “Marco, this is Bill. Keep her isolated until we examine the fax.”

  “Will do.”

  Rappaport went to the van and returned several minutes later with copies for everyone. Each received seven pages and read them in silence. They were handwritten with the writing becoming larger and increasingly more difficult to read near the end.

  “I pray that this is found quickly, but I needed to do this alone and without any outside interference. As soon as I put my fingers to my neck, I felt a hard, needle like object sticking into it and a liquid – blood. I knew that Assassin had infected me and yelled to Marco to kill Morales. Once I knew Assassin was dead and Marco wasn’t hit, I knew what I had to do. I ran to my room and pulled the object out. It was black and less than an inch long. Tarantula bristle? It’s on my desk. I grabbed my pistol, a flashlight, some paper and a couple of pens. Obviously, I couldn’t stay in the room. As I stepped back into the hallway, I saw a grate which I figured was for ventilation. That’s how I made it to where you have found me. I’m laughing a little to myself right now wondering if I should call myself Assassin. Soon, I fear, but not yet.

  “Forty-five minutes have now passed and I notice no difference. The least I should be able to do is give you a ballpark figure of how much time it takes the virus to take control of its victim. While I’m waiting for the first effects to become apparent, I owe an apology to all who were with me during my act of cowardice when I hit the ground when Cyclo spotted the Bear Assassin. That, and my love for Lt. Henderson, Alice, led to my downfall. She was the first true love of my life. Unfortunately, with the love came fear and jealousy. I was already well down the path of destruction at the moment of infection. Assassin has only hastened the process. To Major Williams, I owe a special apology. I’m sure I don’t have to explain. If Alice hasn’t found out what happened before you read this, I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me and break the news to her in whatever way you think best. Sadly, my jealousy and stupidity sowed the seeds leading the collapse of our relationship.

  “It’s been one hour twenty-one minutes since my last words. I am aware of tingling in my extremities. I assume it is the result of the virus, or whatever it is, multiplying and invading my cells. So far, I am not aware of any change with respect to my mind.

  “The rapidity of the invasion is incredible. It’s 2:46 post infection. I can’t be certain, but I believe every cell in my body up to the neck has been captured. Captured? Is that the right word? If so, does that make me a POW? I guess the Geneva Convention doesn’t apply here. The great battle should be next.

  “It’s 3:18PI. The Barbarians have broken through the Gate. What I had hoped would happen seems to be happening. I still have control of my body. That is, my mind is still in control of it. I will hold out to the moment when I believe I will lose the ability to fire my weapon. And, more importantly, I am beginning to merge my thoughts with Morales Assassin’s mind.

  “3:38PI. As I suspected, the story of the thousands of meteorites is false. But, Assassin has in its consciousness plans for some type of tennis ball sized weapon that instantly destroys the nervous system of its targets. Too complicated to even attempt to write down. Also, some type of aircraft. Looks a little like a fifties movie flying saucer. Oh, and strange looking machines which must be some sort of robots. It would seem that I am the first astrophysicist to see into an alien world. As a kid, I dreamed of going to Mars or gas planet moons like Titan and Europa – even if it meant my death. Looks like my dreams are about to come true.

  “3:50PI. I am searching through Assassin’s consciousness as I’m sure it is searching through mine. The amount of knowledge it has absorbed is staggering. Still searching to see if I can find out anything about its origins. Nothing so far.

  “3:57PI. Scotch. It permeates its thoughts. It almost matches its will to survive. The attraction seems to be caused by the unique fragrance of quality scotch. Not much different than with human beings. In fact, I find myself wishing I had bottle with me right now.

  “4:02PI. I’m starting to lose control of my ability to write. Still searching for anything that will wipe out the other Assassins.

  “4:05PI. I have minutes left, but I believe this could be a possible game changer. Morales Assassin infected me and tried
to infect Marco because its body was breaking down. It knew it was happening, but wasn’t sure if it was the cells that couldn’t take the strain of the virus or the virus that was being poisoned, if poisoned is the right word, by its host cells.

  “4:07PI. It is taking me seconds to write a single letter. I wrote better in kindergarten. It’s time to assassinate Assassin. Major Stanley P. Ling, United States Air Force”

  No one said a word for at least two or three minutes after the last of the eight finished reading. Morgan broke the silence. “Major Ling was an officer and a man.”

  A few more seconds passed before Williams spoke. “General, I suggest that Marco give a copy of this to Dr. Stanton, but ask him not to share it with anyone until you clear it. Also, can you get me to Texas ASAP?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jesse, please take complete charge of our team. Also, what are you thoughts about adding Marco to it?”

  The question caught Morgan off guard, but he quickly gathered his thoughts. “He is as good as they come. And next to Major Ling, he knows as much about an Assassin’s thought processes as anyone.”

  “Before he leaves, would you have Marco draw a diagram of the room with dimensions, the spots where he, Major Ling and Assassin were and the location of the blood? Ask him to leave it with Dr. Stanton.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Thanks.”

  Looking at the General, Williams said, “Can you see to it that Marco gets here as soon as possible? Now, please get me to Texas.”

  Williams was escorted by two MPs into Stanton’s office. They saluted Williams and left after he returned the salutes. After the two briefly discussed what had happened, Williams asked Stanton about the blood and the black projectile.

  “The blood is that of Morales. The projectile is a piece an urticating bristle found on the abdomens of some tarantulas.”

  “How in the world did Morales get these in his mouth?”

  “I have no way of knowing and, unless you can bring in another living Assassin, most likely never will.”