“This is psychotic. Who the fuck are you?” the leader said.
Daniel rushed up and placed the sticky blade under his chin. “But executing twenty people and rolling them into a shallow grave is perfectly normal? You’ve been hitting the Greely-Harding Kool-Aid a little heavy,” he said and shifted over to the follower, grabbing him by his hair.
“Do you really think this fucker was going to let you leave this place alive? I’ve seen people dig their own graves before. Once they figure it out, they start to shovel half loads in an attempt to put off the inevitable. I’ve been watching you dig for a while now. How long does it take to dig a fucking hole?”
“He’s full of shit, Douglass. Nobody was planning to shoot you,” the leader said.
Daniel released his hair. “I wonder what he told them,” Daniel said, pointing to the fly-encrusted pile of bodies with his bloody K-Bar knife. “So, here’s the deal. I’m going to take a little tour of your facility. When I’m done, I’ll be back with lots of questions. You don’t want to be the first person to stop answering my questions.”
**
General Terrence Sanderson answered his phone immediately.
“Daniel, I presume everything is moving along smoothly up there?”
“Not by any measure. I think you need to call the president and have them converge on the distribution hubs. From what I can tell, they’re bottling up the virus and transporting it nationwide. We caught the last of the security crew here tying up loose ends, Milosevic style.”
“Have they confirmed this? What are the targets?”
“We’ve been working over the two that we captured. They confirmed that thousands of bottles were transported from this site to one of the distribution hubs over the course of the last twelve hours. They both claim to have no knowledge of what went on inside the industrial-grade laboratory we found in this place. This site resembles a miniaturized, standalone version of a bottled water plant. They have at least three thousand square feet dedicated to assembly and packaging. Now I know where most of Benjamin Young’s money was spent,” Daniel said.
“The bottles were poisoned? I didn’t think this was possible. The virus wouldn’t survive suspended in the water for very long. Are you sure this was their plan?” Sanderson questioned.
“I’m not seeing any other conclusion to be drawn. We found the original virus canisters shipped from Europe. They sure as hell did something to the bottles that left this facility. Whatever they’re planning for those bottles, I guarantee it won’t be random. They’ve carefully crafted the events leading up to this sudden demand for bottled water. You need to convince the president to shut this whole fucking town down,” Daniel said.
“That won’t work. First of all, I’m back on the shit list. They won’t believe a word I say, especially with Director Shelby whispering in their ears. Secondly, the bottles might already be on the way to their intended targets. Unless someone confesses on-site, the FBI has no way to force this information out of them. This water will disappear into the population as soon as it hits the shelves. Give me specific targets, and I’ll try to call the president.”
“The president could go on national television and tell the American people not to drink Crystal Source water! How hard can this be?”
“He’ll only do that if he believes me. You know how this works. If I call him up right now, rambling about poisoned bottled water linked to a bottled water company, I’m going to have a problem with credibility. Especially when I try to explain how we obtained the information. Anyone that could prove we were working in good faith on behalf of the FBI task force is either dead or unconscious. Right now, we are once again enemies of the state. Get over to the distribution hub and unfuck this situation. Please.”
The line went silent for a few moments.
“All right. We’ll close up shop around here and try to figure out which hub they’re using. Things sound a little tense down there, General,” Petrovich said.
“We’re leaving the compound. Headed to more populated areas east of here. I’m not taking any chances.”
“It wasn’t a bad run while it lasted,” Daniel said.
“A minor setback. I’m nowhere close to finished,” Sanderson said.
“There’s no place for someone like you or me in the system they’ve created. They’ll congratulate you with one hand and put a gun to your head with the other.”
“Don’t lose the faith, Daniel. We’re their last line of defense. It’s worth the trouble. Can I count on you to see this through to the end?”
“Have I ever disappointed you, General?”
“Just once I wish you’d quit answering my questions with another question. Is that too much to ask?” Sanderson said.
“Yes.”
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Not really.”
“Get me some targeted information, and I’ll make the call.”
“We’re on it,” Daniel said.
Sanderson disconnected the call and walked up a short path to meet with his operations officer. Standing on the covered porch of the headquarters lodge, Parker looked disturbed.
“What’s wrong?” Sanderson asked.
“I just lost all satellite connectivity. They’re shutting us down,” Parker said.
“Can they do that without Argentine cooperation?”
Parker shook his head.
“Shit. What’s the impact to our organization?”
“We’re temporarily cut off from our EW teams in the States. We’ll probably lose our sat-phones next. We need to get out of here immediately and reestablish our entire communications network. We’ve been transmitting from a fixed position known to the U.S. government for at least a week, which has given them plenty of time to sniff around our system. I’ve been careful with our data management. All of our U.S. feeds were one way, which is impossible for them to intercept. I scrubbed the return data in case they had somehow managed to piggyback the satellite we were using. Our network hacks are still intact. The team in McLean has full access to FBI headquarters.”
“Issue backup SATCOM to each vehicle and clear out. I’ll meet up with you in Neuquén,” Sanderson said.
“We’ll be ready to roll in fifteen minutes. I guess we should be thankful for the cloud cover,” Parker said.
“Let’s hope it’s cloudy all the way to Neuquén. Start working on a plan to take us to the coast. Neuquén’s bound to shrink really fast if the Argentine government gets involved. Senior Galenden told me he had to back off this for a while. We’re more or less on our own.”
“We’ll be fine. We have the best team possible on the job up north,” Parker assured him.
Sanderson pondered the ex-SEAL’s statement. Daniel’s sense of duty was confused. He had long ago ceased buying U.S. patriotism wholesale. His dedication to Jessica overshadowed all of his motivations, which was why Sanderson always framed their conversations around what was best for their future together. It wasn’t a disingenuous tactic. Daniel could smell his bullshit for miles, so there was no point in trying to psychologically sway him. Framing it for their benefit allowed him to continue conversations that Daniel would normally dismiss.
He thought about Daniel’s tone near the end of their most recent phone conversation. Petrovich resorted to humor when he was undecided. He also tended to quickly agree with Sanderson when he had no intention of following instructions. Daniel remained an enigma to this very day, which gave Sanderson no comfort. Unfortunately, there was little he could do to control the situation. If Daniel walked off the mission with Jessica, he still had four extremely capable operatives to continue the mission. He didn’t want to think about it. He had enough to worry about on his end.
**
Daniel walked over to the two men sitting side by side on the laboratory floor. They were both tightly cuffed to a large, stainless steel workstation, using two pairs of metal handcuffs found in Brooks’ desk.
“Good news. You’re free to go,” he said.
/> Douglass Kemp expressed a look of relief, which was not shared by Michael Brooks, head of security.
“Not really,” Daniel added, instantly deflating the man.
Douglass had been quick to identify Brooks’ position after a few minutes of impromptu waterboarding on one of the lab tables. He’d been unable to identify the destination of the convoys leaving this site, but he’d professed that the delivery trucks were filled with crates of water processed in the assembly line next door. He’d also confirmed that the trucks were unmarked and had run nonstop since three or four in the afternoon yesterday. They had pressed him about potential targets, but it was evident that he knew little beyond what he had seen firsthand at the site or had learned from his equally uninformed fellow security guards. He had no solid concept of True America’s greater plot for the next few weeks, only that he’d go down in the history books as part of the New Recovery.
Daniel told him that he might make medical history. This comment managed to raise Brooks’ eyebrows, which gave Daniel some hope that he might not have to resort to cutting them open. Brooks had shown considerable resilience against waterboarding, leaving them with little choice. They didn’t have all day to identify and exploit his psychological weaknesses, though Daniel had an idea. If it didn’t work, he’d turn this over to Aleem Fayed and Tariq Paracha. Sanderson had assured Daniel that the two of them would produce results.
“Here’s where we stand. Douglass has nothing more to tell, and Michael plans to hold out as long as he can. Michael knows he’ll eventually tell us everything, but he’s clinging to the notion of loyalty and honor. I can appreciate that, but I assure you that these notions will be crushed just as quickly as your testicles. Just one of a hundred painful, non-lethal examples of the misery you’ll endure for your masters. The end result is always the same,” he said, walking over to Fayed and Paracha.
“I’ll turn you over to my friends here, and your screams will fill this building for hours, eventually replaced with the begging and the sobbing. But here’s the twist—they’re going to be really careful this time. I want you to survive, Michael. I want you to sit here on this floor for the next week or two with your new best friend. Thirsty, Douglass?”
Daniel took a bottle of Crystal Source water sitting on the table above them and stepped back, slowly twisting open the cap in front of them. He brought the bottle to the trembling man’s lips and paused when Michael Brooks yelled, “Don’t drink that, Doug! Who knows what they did to it?”
“That’s true, Doug. Maybe we should take one out of a fresh crate. Fresh water please!” Daniel said.
Melendez stepped into the room carrying the shrink-wrapped case and slammed it down in front of the two men. Daniel ripped open the plastic on one of the sides and started digging through to one of the bottles in the middle. He pulled one out and opened it, holding it out toward Douglass.
“Now here’s a fresh one. Found the crate sitting inside the loading bay. Probably left behind for the security guys. Nothing like a clean bottle of Crystal Source after a long day of digging graves. Right, Michael?”
“Don’t do it, Doug. They could have poisoned all of the bottles,” Brooks said.
“You think we poisoned all of the bottles and then somehow packaged them up to look like they came from the Crystal Source bottling factory? That sounds like an insane conspiracy, Michael. Right? You better get used to this stuff. It’s all we’re leaving behind for you. Go ahead, Douglass.”
He held it closer to the man’s lips.
“Douglass, listen to me. They’re fucking crazy. We’re dead no matter what.”
Daniel removed the bottle of water and poured it over Michael’s head. He watched the man blow out of his nose and press his eyes and mouth shut until the water ran its course.
“Wow. Did you see that, Doug? He almost had a panic attack.”
Daniel dried his head with a towel handed to him by Paracha. He waited until Brooks opened his eyes again, then opened another bottle and put it up to Kemp’s lips. The man closed his eyes and mouth, twisting his body and turning his head away from the bottle.
“Damn. Now Doug doesn’t want the water. Too bad he already drank a ton of it.”
Melendez reentered the room, carrying a transparent plastic bag filled with at least ten empty bottles. He kicked the half-empty case of water along the floor through the doorway.
“We used these bottles to waterboard Mr. Kemp. Don’t worry, Mikey. We used the tap water on you.”
Kemp looked despondent and utterly confused. Brooks looked horrified.
“Do you want to tell him what’s going to happen, or should I? This may come as a complete shock to you, Mikey, but I led a CIA-sanctioned special operations team into Russia a few weeks ago. I saw what happens firsthand in Monchegorsk. You have no concept of what your organization just unleashed on this country…but you’ll get to experience it firsthand, chained to this table. It’s going to be a long week for you, Michael. Watching Doug and waiting.”
“What is he talking about, Mr. Brooks?”
Michael Brooks stayed silent.
“Mr. Brooks?”
Brooks stared off into space. A quick slap from Daniel brought him back into the conversation.
“Doug, the water you swallowed and took into your lungs was infected with a weaponized form of viral encephalitis. A demented scientist from Russia’s premier virology lab designed this particular strain to maximize the amount of damage inflicted on the brain’s temporal lobe. At first, you’ll start to experience typical flu-like symptoms. Weakness, chills, cough, congestion…the usual stuff. A few days later…”
Daniel shook his head slowly back and forth.
“What?” Kemp said.
“The hallmark symptoms of this virus are rage, aggression, violence, murderous impulses. At least that’s what I saw in most of the infected population. The destruction of the temporal lobe results in irreversible brain damage and permanent regression to these savage instincts. Mr. Brooks had every reason to keep you from drinking that water. You’re chained to the table next to him. He doesn’t want to wake up in a few days to find you gnawing on his head.”
Douglass Kemp tried to distance himself from Brooks, but Daniel had attached their handcuffs to the table less than a foot apart. No matter how hard the two of them tried, they would always be within biting distance.
“History in the making, Doug! You’ll be the first to experience the start of True America’s New Recovery plan. Turning American citizens into rabid zombies.”
“They sent this into the population?” Kemp yelled at Brooks.
Brooks glared at Daniel, shaking his head.
“Thousands of bottles are headed to one of the distribution plants. I need to know which one. Right now, my plan is to free one of Doug’s hands, leave the two of you several jugs of tap water, and never return. What are your thoughts about that course of action, Michael? Do you think Doug will put the jug to your lips and let you drink? Or will he bash your skull against the table out of principle? Maybe he won’t be able to kill you in cold blood. He’ll help you drink, still hopeful that someone might be coming, which they won’t be. Then, one day within the next week or so, he’ll bite your face off and spit it out in your lap.”
“You’ll let us go if I tell you?” Brooks said.
“No. I’ll drop Mr. Kemp off in town, where he’ll seek medical treatment. High-dose, intravenous acyclovir should kill the virus. We’ll let him know when he can come back out here to get you or send someone else. Mr. Kemp’s choice. If he attempts to warn anyone before that, we’ll bring his three children here to the laboratory and cuff them to this little stretch of table with Daddy and Uncle Mike. Thanks to your excellent record-keeping, we know where his ex-wife lives. You won’t fuck with us, will you, Mr. Kemp?”
“No, sir. I won’t say a word. I’ll go about my business like this never happened. Why would you have my ex-wife’s address in a file?”
“Leverage, Doug. That’s
what security people do. They collect information to use against you,” Daniel said.
Brooks shook his head and said, “Don’t listen to him, Doug. He’s clearly insane. How long will I have to wait?”
Daniel looked at his watch. “If you stop wasting my time, I’ll be done within a few hours. The rest will be up to Doug. He doesn’t look happy.”
Brooks looked around at everyone. Doug refused to meet his eyes. He stared at Daniel for several seconds and glanced away before he started talking.
Chapter 54
1:08 PM
Washington Hospital Center-Observation Unit
Washington, D.C.
Frederick Shelby knocked on the hospital room door and entered. Special Agent Ryan Sharpe sat upright in a sturdy hospital bed, staring out the window. His right cheek was bandaged with a thick gauze pad stretched in several directions by surgical tape. A similar bandage covered his forehead. Beyond that, Shelby could see that his left arm was in a thick cast, supported by a stainless-steel bracket mounted to the top of his bed frame. His leg lay in an unsupported cast above the blankets at the foot of the bed. He turned his head and forced a thin smile at the sight of the director.
“You’re looking a little better than last night. Still look like crap, but at least you’re awake,” Shelby said, taking a seat under the raised television. “I’m really sorry to hear about Frank. He was one of our best agents. I struggled to decide who should run that task force.”
Sharpe smiled a little more, which was a good sign. Sharpe had contacted him as soon as he regained consciousness this morning. Shelby didn’t want to descend upon him like a vulture, but they were having an impossible time trying to piece the investigation back together without the help of key task force personnel. O’Reilly was still unconscious, having been shielded by Hesterman, who was killed instantly. Digital playback clearly showed the two hundred and twenty-five pound ex-linebacker from Michigan intentionally hovering over O’Reilly less than a second before the bomb detonated. Mendoza was gone, along with most of the FBI agents sitting near O’Reilly. From what Sharpe had told him a few days ago, O’Reilly had arranged the workstations so that the more important agents sat close by. Nobody within twenty feet of her survived.
Black Flagged Apex Page 45