“Easy, Snow White,” Mace said grabbing her. “As soon as the ambulance gets here we’ll go.”
“Go where?”
“Center for Virus Research. It’s at the University of California, Irvine campus.”
“You know this place?” Hope sprouted a leaf.
“Sure. One of my sisters went there.”
“How far away is it?”
“About an hour and a half.”
“Can we get a helo to fly us there faster?”
Mace gave her a raised brow. “You’re married to the Commander of the West Coast Chain, and trying to stop a national disaster. What do you think?”
She blew out a deep breath. “I’ll go and tell Mrs. Bjornson the bad news.”
He nodded and gave her a weak smile. “We’ll make it. We have to.”
Within ten minutes, she and Mace were in the helo heading for the university. “Pilot, can you connect me with Base Command?”
“Affirmative, Snow White.”
“Gord, I need you to find the man in charge of the Center for Virus Research at University of California in Irvine,” she said without a greeting when he came on the radio. “We need him waiting for us. I’m bringing him something, and we need his help to decipher it. Don’t give him all the details. Just make sure he’s waiting.”
“Good copy, Snow White. Base Command, out.”
Kayla rested her head on Mace’s shoulder.
“You tired?” he asked.
“Hell, yeah. I don’t know the last time I had sleep.”
“That’s not good for an expectant mother.”
“She’ll be all right.” Rubbing her stomach, she said, “Sloane is going to be an independent, strong-willed, free-thinking woman.”
Mace chuckled into the commset. “Just like her mom.”
Mace gripped her hand and held it for the twenty-minute flight. The pilot sat the chopper down in a football field. The practicing football team scattered as the Nighthawk descended. Mace helped her out and they ran toward a guy with a clipboard and a whistle.
“Can you show us where the Virus Research Center is?” Mace said to the balding man in his mid-forties who stared at them with wide eyes.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Follow me.”
“Run,” Mace instructed, and they all put it into a gallop.
Chapter Fourteen
Tony hunched in the shade of a transport truck, evading the blistering sun. He’d run six separate searches for Lumin during the night. She’d been infected around sixteen hundred hours yesterday. He placed his head in his hands and willed himself not to give way to his dwindling hope. She wasn’t dead. He repeated it like a mantra, but too many missions and hard knocks on reality’s door said she was. When her phone cut off last night, he felt every last cell of his body go into alarm. Was she trying to find them? She didn’t want to infect anyone or take the chance of approaching the police for help. Why hadn’t she found another phone? he asked himself, but he knew why. She physically couldn’t and that tore him to pieces.
“Bale!” Captain Cobbs strode toward him with a sat phone in hand. “Base Command on the line,” he said.
“Bale,” Tony answered.
“Petty Officer Bale, it’s Barry.”
“Go ahead, Barry.”
“Tinman, Kayla asked me to keep harassing the police departments in your surrounding area. I think I have something.”
His heart scrambled to hitch itself to hope. “Go ahead.”
“A small department a few miles from the Kaibab National Recreation Area just received a report of a woman, possibly suicidal. They said she appeared to be sick.”
“Why suicidal?”
“She had a seat full of pill bottles beside her.”
Tony closed his eyes. “It’s Lumin. Thanks, Barry.” He listened while Barry shared the location and directions. “We’ve found her,” he said to Captain Cobbs as he hung up.
“Chopper is on standby for you.” He lowered a harsh gaze on him. “Don’t lose your head, Bale, even if you’ve lost your heart. Want company?” Cobbs asked.
“Negative, sir.”
Tony ran for the chopper.
“Another recon?” the pilot asked as he jumped into the aircraft.
“Eastern edge of the Kaibab Recreation Area. Let’s go.”
The hot desert air blasted through the chopper like a well-stoked furnace. His heart hammered in his chest. If the police forced her out of the car, they’d all have to be quarantined. Within a few minutes the Black Hawk flew over the sparsely treed area. Tony couldn’t miss it, but he had at three in the morning. He’d flown over this area, but hadn’t spotted her car hidden by the trees. Fuck, why hadn’t he looked closer? Three police cars were parked in a campsite surrounding the vehicle Lumin had taken.
“We can set her down a quarter mile to the north.”
“Hover over the target. I’ll fast-rope down.”
He gripped the rope and waited till the Black Hawk lowered to thirty feet above the surface, skirting the tree line. He was on the ground and running within seconds. An officer spoke to Lumin while the other two stood in front of the vehicle.
“Stop,” one of the cops said, raising a hand as he approached. “You want to tell us what’s going on, and why the military just dropped you out of the sky?”
He stepped to the side and saw her. Oh God, his beautiful lady was sick. Really sick. He stepped up to the cop. “Tony Bale, U.S. Navy SEALs. I’d advise your friend there to step away from the car.”
The cop crossed his arms. “Is that so?”
“Unless he wants to stop breathing in twelve hours, yes.”
“What?” The cop’s brow rippled.
“She’s infected with a virus. A deadly one.”
The other cop, a leaner version with shades, stood with attitude. “This have something to do with what we’ve been hearing on the TV?”
“Hey!” he shouted to the cop standing beside Lumin’s window. “Step away from the vehicle.”
“And who are you?” the cop asked, straightening up.
His buddy turned his head. “Says she’s infected with a virus. Addy, think you might want to listen to him.”
The cop stepped away from the car. “Seriously?”
He wasn’t interested in the cops anymore, his gaze glued to Lumin. Her head rested against the seat, covered in sweat, her eyes barely open.
“No,” she mouthed.
He rounded the car. “Leave, now,” he ordered. The cops backed away, but only a few steps. “If you don’t leave, you’ll all be quarantined.” He bent over. “Sweetheart, open the door.”
Lumin’s head swayed to look at him. She placed her hand on the window, and he reached up to mirror it. “Please, sweetheart.”
She coughed and a small stream of blood slipped from her lips. She swiped it away, and tears welled in her eyes.
“Tony.” She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “Please,” she squeaked. “Stay with me until it’s over.”
“It’s not over,” he choked through tears and cleared the lump in his throat. “We just started.”
“Petty Officer Bale,” the pilot called in his comm set.
“Go ahead.”
“Message from Base Command Coronado.”
“Go ahead.”
“They advise Luminous recovery imminent.”
“Where?”
There was a pause. “Cal-U, Irvine campus.”
Mace and Kayla had gone to the Bjornson’s residence. They must have found a lead. “Lumin!” He swallowed hard, seeing her eyes closed. “Lumin.” He jumped to his feet, grabbing a good-sized rock from the ground and smashed the rear window. The noise woke her. He unlocked the doors then yanked the driver’s door open.
“No!” she yelped, and tried to crawl across the seat.
He jumped in the car, started the engine and floored it, headed for the helo.
“Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled her under his arm. The glands in her neck were e
xtremely swollen, but not broken open. Rounding a hairpin bend, he saw the chopper and stopped the vehicle fifty yards away.
“Black Hawk One, you copy?”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m flying that helicopter out of here. I have to get her to the base now.”
Silence returned. “Petty Officer Bale, I’ll fly.”
“Negative. Both you and the co-pilot need to disembark.”
He jumped out and pulled Lumin into his arms. “Easy, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” She lay in his arms like a limp rag. He ran for the chopper and laid her on the deck. Closing the doors, he raced for the cockpit. Offering the pilot and his navigator a thumbs-up, he lifted off the ground. Switching the radio frequency, he called Base Command Operations.
“Black Hawk One, Base Command go ahead.”
“Incoming. ETA one hour fifteen, advise Snow White I’ve found the light. Need the recovery package on arrival. We’ll need a quarantined area as well. Two infected. Advise CDC there’s a vehicle at Kaibab National Park. It needs to be cordoned off.”
“Roger, Black Hawk One.”
He looked over his shoulder. Lumin was rolled into a tight ball. “Hang on, Lumin. Just one more hour. We’re gonna make it.” She barely nodded. When her gaze rose to meet his, he felt her pain. Every ounce of it. “It’s okay, my lady. You’re going to be okay.”
A minute later, he heard Ghost on the air frequency.
“Black Hawk One, Base Command.”
“Base Command, Black Hawk One, go ahead, sir.”
“Confirm, you’ve got the light?”
“Affirmative. We’ll both need to be quarantined. What’s Snow White’s status?”
“Target has not been acquired.”
“Then we’ll die together because I’m not leaving her, sir. If permission is denied to base, I’ll fly this bird into the desert.”
“Permission granted. Proceed to base. We’ll have a hot suite waiting.”
“Roger, good copy.”
“How is she, T-man?”
He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Sick,” he spouted. “Oh God, she’s really sick.” He clutched the control arm to keep the helo flying straight. “She can’t die. I won’t let her die.”
“Easy, Tinman. Get her here. We’ll be waiting.”
“Black Hawk One, out.”
* * * *
The football coach cleared a path in the hallway as Kayla and Mace followed. Heads swiveled seeing the odd threesome running past the lecture halls. She didn’t have the endurance Mace and the coach had, and she was out of breath when they reached a door somewhere in the bowels of the university.
“Professor Linden?” the coach called out as he opened the door.
An elderly man looked up from a desk littered with folders and books. Bifocals sat on the end of his nose and a cardigan draped across his thin shoulders.
“Coach Ross,” he said, blinking at her and Mace. The blink turned into a wary look as Professor Linden sat the book he held, onto the desk.
“Sir, my name is Kayla Austen, United States Navy analyst, and this is Petty Officer Callahan, Navy SEAL. By that look on your face, you know why we’re here.”
“Please have a seat. I was contacted by your peers.”
“There’s no time for sitting,” she said abruptly. “Clifford Bjornson gave me these numbers before he died.” She waved the paper in front of the professor. “I need to find whatever it’s associated with, and take it.”
“Clifford is—dead?”
She strayed a look at Mace.
“Yes, he is,” Mace answered, reaching for the door handle, and then stared at the coach. “Thank you.” Dismissing him. Coach Ross got the idea and promptly left. Mace closed the door.
“I don’t know if Dr. Bjornson shared any information with you. At this point, it really doesn’t matter. This looks like a combination. We need to see it now.”
“Ms. Austen, I can see you’re flummoxed, but Clifford told me people may come looking. His discovery must be protected.”
Every second passed like the hissing end of a lit fuse. “Flummoxed? We’re looking for a way to stop a pandemic that may not be stoppable. You possess the hiding place of the only hope the people of this country have. Where is it?” she shouted. Professor Linden stared at her. “Do I look like a terrorist, for crap’s sake?”
“Easy, Kayla,” Mace warned.
She took a deep breath and said, “Listen, professor, we’re literally on the verge of damnation. Dr. Bjornson must have shared his discoveries with you. This virus has to be stopped.”
The professor stood and surveyed her. “Clifford was my friend. He thought he was working for the government.”
“We know that,” she said, her patience dwindling. “The virus Dr. Bjornson created was released in three small towns. We don’t know if anyone left the towns before it was identified, but we do know that it had a minimum of twelve hours to work its way into the underground water table.”
“Ms. Austen, I have to be sure you’re not connected to the man who tricked him.”
“If you want me to get the President of the United States on the phone I will.”
The professor’s brows rose.
“He’s in his bunker, pacing the floor, expecting us to stop his country from turning into a graveyard. I need the antiserum.”
The door crashed open. Mace swung around, weapon in his hand, but men poured into the room like ants, and they were all armed. They parted, and in walked a tall man of Middle Eastern ethnicity. “You’re not the only one, Mrs. Austen,” the man said.
“Callum Dafoe,” the name stinging her tongue as she said it.
“Lower your weapon,” he warned Mace.
Mace did as he asked, knowing someone would die if he didn’t. One of Dafoe’s men took it from him and motioned Mace to the corner of the room, separating him. She and Mace shared a look and she wished like hell they had E.S.P as a first language. Instead, she read his expression. Stand down was written in his gaze. She placed her hands behind her and as she did, she slipped the paper Bjornson had given her into the waistband of her skirt.
Dafoe walked up to a wide-eyed Professor Linden. “Where is the vaccine?” he asked calmly.
The professor’s mouth opened and closed, and then he said, “Not accessible by me. Only Dr. Bjornson can translate his notes.”
Callum Dafoe’s dark eyes glistened with impatience. “Show me.” He turned to one of his men. “Tie them up,” he said motioning toward her and Mace.
Professor Linden glanced at a file cabinet sitting to his right.
“Get them, Professor,” Dafoe ordered.
“It won’t do you any good.”
“Give me the key to the cabinet or I take it from you and you die.”
The Professor fished in his pocket revealing a keychain.
“Open it.”
The Professor took a hesitant step.
“Faster, Professor.”
Professor Linden cracked the small padlock on the file cabinet and fingered through the folders, gripping one. “I’m telling you, without Clifford this will not help you.”
Dafoe snatched the folder from him, opened it and flipped some of the papers. “I don’t need to be a scientist. I have several in my employ.”
“You selfish prick.” It shot from her mouth, fired by this man’s blindness to anything but revenge. “Everyone loses people they love. One way or the other, people die.”
Dafoe turned his hateful gaze on her. “Is it your wish to die, Mrs. Austen?”
“Who the hell are you that you think your pain and loss is more important than anyone else’s? That you have the right to act like God?”
“Kayla,” Mace said sharply.
A man from Dafoe’s guard cinched a plastic strap around her wrists. “Everyone battles to exist. You think because your wife and son were lost to war that you have the right to annihilate innocent people as retribution. You make me sick.”
Dafoe snatc
hed the weapon from the man standing next to him and pushed the muzzle into her shoulder. “I have every right,” he yelled into her face. “The Americans think they’re unstoppable. Your self-righteous husband has killed thousands of people without regard for innocence.”
The end of the barrel dug into her bone, but she refused to flinch. She darted a look at the professor, who’d backed himself up against the bookshelf. Would he tell Dafoe she held the combination to where the vaccine was hidden? So close. They were so damn close. If she failed, there was nothing to stop a pandemic. Dafoe wanted to live while the rest of the world expired. His wife’s life would never be vindicated, he just didn’t know it.
Like him, she’d wallowed for years fighting her PTSD, only to be dragged into the light by the most unlikely of men. She’d made Thane a promise to be safe, but none of them were safe. Their son would die. They’d never hear their daughter’s cry.
The corner they’d been backed into was sharp and solid. No way out but through impossible odds.
“My husband shook tyranny by the throat. Men like you. Men who don’t know when to stop. Men who are sadistic bastards who want to conquer and cause pain to people who can’t protect themselves. You’re bloodthirsty. You’re something that sticks to the toe of my shoe and smells like shit,” she railed.
“Kayla!” Mace shouted. “Shut the fuck up.”
The blast from the weapon rapped against the walls of the tiny office. Silence. Numbness. Chaos.
* * * *
Date: 07.27.2014
Time: 1900UTC 1100hrs PST
Mission: Code Name Luminous
Tony checked the time and willed it to stop. Fifteen minutes ETA to the base. Even through the constant rush of sound from the helicopter, he heard Lumin moan in her sleep. Sweat dripped from her forehead. He contacted Base Command and requested instructions.
“Black Hawk One, you’re cleared for landing, southern parking lot. Remain in the aircraft until further advised.”
The sun hung high in the sky. Seven hours past the time the virus was meant to kill its host. “SITREP on Snow White?”
“No joy.”
Fuck. He’d told himself a hundred times he would save Lumin. There was no other outcome. “Where are you, Kayla?” he muttered, seeing the painted lines indicating the landing pad come into view. “Base Command, I need water.” Lumin had begged for water thirty minutes ago. He’d given her his and she’d choked trying to drink it, most of it puddled on the deck. The whine of the blades changed into a slow whip as he put the skids on the pavement. “Base Command, Black Hawk One, shutting down.”
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