The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga

by Marcus Richardson

  Reginald knew when to be quiet. He bowed his head.

  “We have not yet seen the first case on our shores," said Xian Liu. The Council’s attention shifted to the middle-aged, portly man from China, “but I can confirm the data that suggests an antigen shift is taking place. When this virus strikes the shores of Asia, catastrophe will be sure to follow.”

  "My lord, the information transmitted to your people last night had clear instructions on how best to prevent the eastward spread of the virus. I am more than confident your abilities to prepare China will be up to the task—"

  “You are not mistaken in your confidence, Earl Dunkeith. We have the best laboratories available," said Liu, with obvious pride. “That is not the issue.” The man leaned into the camera and glared at Reginald. "The issue is you have not done enough to end the offensive campaign the American government—what’s left of it—has been trying to implement.”

  Ah, at last—here it comes. Out loud, Reginald said with all sincerity, “I am doing everything humanly possible—"

  "I think not," snapped the Chinese nobleman. "Your obfuscation will get you nowhere with me. As part of the continued support for this operation, the People's Republic must remain politically and militarily insulated from the conflict on American soil with North Korea.”

  "Then, may I humbly suggest the next time you decide to arm North Korea and unleash them upon the Americans, you make sure they don't talk about where they got their weaponry."

  Liu recoiled as if a venomous snake had been dropped in his lap. “We have done nothing wrong. We have planned and implemented everything flawlessly."

  Reginald sighed. "My lord, I am but one man. I cannot be responsible for the speed at which the virus mutated and—"

  “Can’t you?" growled Liu. "You knew how unstable this strain is and you convinced us to approve the invasion anyway. We have provided the beach head from which—”

  “Us? Don’t you mean North Korea?” asked Reginald.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Before the Chinese magnate could further express his indignation, Reginald pressed forward. “What you have done is taken a strip of land along the western coast of the United States—by proxy—and pushed inland for a few hundred miles. And, by the way, you’ve royally narked half the surviving military forces of the United States. It is only through the Herculean efforts of my operatives that a full-scale nuclear war has not been directed against you and your arrogant country."

  Liu’s face paled. "What are you talking about? I received nothing—"

  “That is because the Privy Council deemed it unnecessary to have your input in the situation," Reginald replied in an even tone, as if he were reading the weather forecast in the morning paper.

  Liu’s screen went black.

  “That could have been handled better,” warned the King in a deep voice.

  Reginald nodded acquiescence. "As you say, Majesty. I believe we are past the time for pleasantries—”

  "I am forced to agree with Earl Dunkeith, Sire,” added Lord Stirling. He looked as surprised to have spoken as Reginald felt. The two had never been allies—on anything. Stirling made no secret of his dislike of Reginald. He almost believed the rumors that Stirling had a part in in the death of his father.

  “The virus spreads faster than anticipated in Europe,” Stirling said, “Germany is setting a dangerous precedent with its retreat from Boston. France and Spain are beginning to panic—they are preparing to pull their troops out of New York and Baltimore,” he warned.

  “Majesty, that is a grave mistake,” Reginald said when Stirling paused to take a breath. “That would only fan the flames of infection. We've not yet developed a cure—"

  “Yes, we've noticed," said Legrand. "Our people are falling ill and some have already died. Where is this cure you promised us? Where is Subject 14? You said we would have his blood by now."

  “I do not have the infinite power needed to snap my fingers and deliver Subject 14 to my laboratories this very instant. My agents are working on it—this is a most delicate operation and it will take time. We’ve pooled all of our resources in order to infiltrate the command structure of not one, but two governments of the United States.”

  Reginald took their silence as acquiescence and continued, “My agents in Denver have received word that a detachment of Rangers has successfully recaptured Subject 14.”

  "Isn’t that unfortunate?" asked Lady Anna-Maria Brun. Reginald smiled at her image. She was stunning. "I thought your man was going to handle this?"

  I should very much like to handle you… “Yes, my Lady,” said Reginald. "There were some…difficulties in extracting Subject 14 from the clutches of the Americans. They don’t seem to be aware of which side they should be fighting for."

  "Then I suggest you make them aware," grumbled the King. “Time is of the essence, Dunkeith—these excuses you offer try my patience."

  Reginald nodded again. "Yes, your Majesty. I have taken steps to acquire Subject 14—failing that, his blood—within the next 24 hours. I have assets in place to acquire Dr. Boatner's research—all the pieces are coming together and very soon we shall have the serum we require to begin Phase 3. I estimate within 72 hours.”

  "Very good," said the King. "Our Russian friends are anxious to join the fray. They wish to unleash their reserve canisters of the bio-weapon on certain elements of Eastern Europe. I understand it is an almost pure strain—far more lethal than what the North Koreans have developed…"

  "I would advise restraint in the strongest terms, Majesty,” Reginald said quickly, a sliver of fear rippling down his spine like a thousand tiny spiders. “If an ultra-purified strain of this virus is released before we have the cure—"

  “The Cleansing will go ahead as planned,” said Lady Howard, “regardless of what our friends in Moscow want to do to their neighbors.” Her wrinkled face dared someone to contradict her, but no one rose to the challenge.

  Good Lord, you and the Russians will kill us all. I just need another two days…

  Reginald squared his shoulders. “I don't know about you, Madam, but I do not intend to be one of the fallen. If the Russians release their reserves ahead of schedule, they run the risk of killing every single human on the planet. Except Subject 14.” Reginald shook his head in exasperation. Bloody Russians.

  “I see I must remind you all," he said in his most commanding tone, "of the extreme pathology of this virus. We are playing God with this organism—one which has proven to be the most destructive biological threat mankind has ever faced. Now that the North Koreans have completely butchered the viral RNA, one false step on our part could release something that will make the Black Death look no worse than the common cold."

  "I assure you, the Council shall wait for your signal, Earl Dunkeith," said the King. Reginald could not be sure, but he thought he detected a hint of worry on the face of the exiled monarch.

  "Thank you, Majesty," Reginald said.

  The King grunted. "Now, if this unpleasantness can be concluded, I suggest we all return to our own affairs. Preparations must be complete in the next 48 hours. I believe I need not remind you all certain aspects of this operation's timeline are quite fixed.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Washington, D.C.

  The White House.

  Presidential Emergency Operations Center.

  PRESIDENT BARRON STARED AT the wall as he held the phone in his hand. He blinked. Someone was talking to him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember who. Before him, Jayne stood opposite his desk. She smiled at him and slowly ran her hands down the length of her barely dressed body.

  Barron blinked again. His mind felt like it had been submerged under a pile of thick, viscus mud. A single thought fluttered by and threatened to vanish into the murkiness of…he reached out and snatched at the thought. He tried to smile.

  Yes. Smile—that’s what she wants me to do. He heard for the first time someone else’s voice. Where was that coming from? H
e looked around and felt the room spin, saw three copies of Jayne throw their heads back and laugh, blond hair swirling like smoke.

  Heat rose in two places, one down below the other closer to his heart. He focused his eyes on the Jayne-triplets, but focused his energy on the heat around his heart. It intensified with understanding. She had upped the dosage of his restraining medication. The heat ignited a spark in the murky darkness of his nearly-addled mind. The spark whispered a thought: vengeance.

  A flame exploded and part of his consciousness quickly cleared. Adrenaline fueled by his anger, seared away the drugs and freed his mind. The unstable grin on his face turned into a smile as his vision began to clear.

  “—understand me?”

  Barron pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it, careful to maintain the illusion that he was still out of his mind on whatever drug cocktail Jayne had hit him with this time. He slurred his speech and hoped she wouldn’t notice: “Wah? Whosssere?”

  “Good Lord. My dear, was it absolutely necessary to up his dose this much?” snapped Reginald’s voice, hollow and tinny from the phone’s speaker. Barron smiled. Reginald pronounced the word necessary as ‘ness-ess-ree’.

  Jayne laughed. “You have no idea how resistant he’s become. I had no choice.” She danced a little pirouette for Barron and trailed a hand over one hip, tugging down on the waistline of her skirt just enough for Barron to see a hint of white lace.

  He made the obligatory swooning noise. It seemed to make her happy. You are sick. I’m going to enjoy bringing Reginald down. He’s twisted and evil—you’re just sick. It’ll be a mercy to end you.

  “Jayne dear, we can’t use him if he’s lost his mind. Try not to get carried away, hmm?”

  “Yes, Reginald,” Jayne said. She rolled her eyes, then flashed a dirty smile and winked at Barron. “You’re not too numb to function, are you Harry?” Jayne slowly unbuttoned her blouse and walked purposely around the expansive desk in the Bunker’s Oval Office. “You can still…do things…right?” she purred.

  Despite his anger, there were parts of him that refused to be ignored. Barron swallowed his rage and gave temporary control to his carnal urges in order to play the part and keep Jayne from guessing he had managed to regain some control over his actions. He nodded weakly and offered a shaky smile as he reached trembling hands to her soft, smooth, warm flesh.

  Jayne closed her eyes and sighed as Barron’s hands found her and the blouse fell to the floor. She leaned over him and pushed his chair away from the desk before sinking down between his legs. It was his turn to play the part. He closed his own eyes and tempered his growing lust with the flames of pure hatred. He moaned at the right times and sighed at the right times. It was one of the most difficult things he had ever accomplished.

  “Let’s try this again, shall we?” asked Reginald’s voice. The words were clipped and tight. The man was losing patience. That was interesting—Reginald was normally a very patient man. “Mr. President, can you hear me?”

  “Mmmm…yes. Uh, I can…” What orders have you got for me today, Master?

  “We have a problem. The flu has spread across the Atlantic and Europe is in danger of being consumed by a more aggressive strain. Do you understand me?”

  “Oh, that’s—” Barron’s breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and concentrated. “That’s not good news at all. We don’t have a cure yet…”

  “Indeed. And—oh, for God’s sake, Jayne. Stop that! It’s bad enough that he’s half-numb with drugs. I can’t instruct him with you entertaining yourself like this.”

  Jayne sighed and stood, tidying her hair. She actually seems to enjoy herself, the President thought. Maybe she’s got a weakness, after all.

  He faked a frown as she fingered the corner of her lip and sat on the edge of his desk. He reached out and pulled her into his lap where she lay her head on his chest and sighed. He fought the urge to wrap his fingers around her slender neck and squeeze.

  “That’s better. I didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, Jayne,” cooed Reginald’s voice. “Now, Mr. President, there is something of a rather pressing nature I require.”

  Jayne squeezed him at just the right moment and the President nearly lapsed back into slavery. “Unh…anything,” he said. God, did I sound this pathetic before?

  “Excellent, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Nicely done, my dear.”

  “Thank you,” Jayne purred.

  “The Chinese require us to protect the North Koreans in southern California.”

  “Wha-what?”

  Reginald sighed. “The North Koreans. They’ve conquered California and the rest of the west coast, remember?”

  “Oh, oh yeah.”

  “Oh yeah,” mimicked Reginald’s cruel voice. “Christ in Heaven, Jayne, go easy on him in the future. He’ll be useless to us like this if he gets much worse.”

  “Yes, Reginald.”

  “Now then, the Chinese are on the verge of developing a most effective countermeasure to the weaponized strain affecting your country. However, they require us to protect the North Koreans. They’ve helped establish a rather large North Korean base in southern California. There is to be a meeting between the North Korean high command and a very highly placed minister from China in the coming days—”

  “Mmm-kay,” mumbled Barron, his eyes half-closed to appear sleepy. Docile. Compliant.

  “Listen carefully, Mr. President. Harris’s people already have a mission in the works that will effectively destroy the North Korean presence in southern California.”

  “Want me to stoppem?”

  “Good heavens, no. It’s a trap. I want you to do nothing to hamper their efforts.”

  “I don’t get it,” Barron said as he creased his brow in confusion. It wasn’t hard to fake, he honestly had no idea where Reginald was going with this—why tell him to do nothing?

  “Of course you don’t, thanks to Jayne. She’s cooked your mind. Listen,” the cultured voice said with more than a hint of impatience, “I want you to announce you will be stepping up efforts to root out and crush Harris’s little rebellion.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it will lend urgency to their cause. They don’t want the undeclared civil war heating up among the civilian population—not while they’re so close to wiping out the entire North Korean command structure in California. They will press ahead with the attack to eliminate the Koreans before turning to meet you—they don’t have enough assets to effectively tackle both of you at the same time. As long as the Koreans remain the bigger threat, Harris will focus on them—but I need Harris to do so quickly.”

  “Why?”

  Reginald sighed, a sound so loud the phone vibrated on the polished desk. Barron closed his eyes as he savored Reginald’s frustration. “It is imperative that their mission go ahead not only as planned, but immediately. I have been informed that the viral countermeasures the Koreans supplied to their soldiers are about to expire. Before long, their army will fall apart, sick with the same flu crippling your own country. Oh, they won’t all die,” he said nonchalantly, “the original strain is rather inconsistent in that regard. If the more aggressive, drifted strain should take hold like it has in your southern states…”

  “Oh my God,” Barron said after what he hoped was a suitable amount of reflection. “We won’t be able to stop it…”

  “Yes,” Reginald said slowly, “now you’re getting it. Good lad. So here’s what will happen. You make noise like you’re going to increase pressure on the civilians loyal to Harris—let your man Jones have his reins. Harris will be forced to respond by pushing the California mission forward in order to redirect resources and meet your threat all the sooner. His plan is to send the bulk of their Marines and last team of Navy SEALs to the base in southern California.”

  “But…” Barron closed his eyes in mock-concentration. “I thought…”

  "Jayne,” Reginald said with a sigh, “I need President Barron to be f
unctioning at his highest mental capacity for this operation. Be a dear and lay off the perfume for the next few days, won't you?"

  Jayne stood, adjusting her skirt. She slowly bent to pick up her blouse from the floor and took her time dressing. "Whatever you say, Reginald,” she said with a smile.

  "There’s a good girl.” Reginald paused, then spoke again: "Are there any questions, Mr. President?”

  “Uh…”

  The line clicked dead.

  Jayne sighed. She ran her hands through her hair and attempted to restrain the wandering strands of gold into what passed for a businesslike bun on the back of her head. She adjusted her blouse and smiled. "How do I look?"

  "Delicious," Barron said. He meant it. He tried to affect a glazed look as he leaned forward and reached for her.

  She danced out of his grasp and giggled as she made her way to the door. "Now, now…that can wait for later. You have some phone calls to make."

  Barron leaned back in his chair. "I work a lot better when I know that someone's not listening in on my conversations…" He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's a little unnerving how much Reginald sees and hears."

  Jayne looked pensive for a moment as she stood in the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder and the impish smile returned as she looked back at Barron. "Between you and me, I feel the same way.” She walked to him and knelt next to his chair. She slipped a hand up her skirt and it emerged holding a small cell phone. "Here,” she said slipping him the phone under the desk. “It’s untraceable."

  Barron arched an eyebrow. "A present? For me? You shouldn't have…"

  "You owe me," she said and winked.

  Oh, I certainly do. Barron pocketed the cell phone, self-consciously attempting to see where the cameras were hidden in the room. There was no way Reginald could've missed the transfer. Was this a test or a trap? If he were to use Jayne’s cell in an attempt to call Harris’ people, it may look like trying to break the control they had over him… He kissed the top of her head and slapped her ass as she walked away with another giggle.