V Plague (Book 16): Brimstone

by Dirk Patton

  ---

  “Where is he?” Rachel shouted to be heard over the plane’s engine.

  “We’re over the coordinates she gave you,” Lucas said, banking the plane for a better view out the side window. “But there’s nothing down there.”

  “You sure those are working?” Rachel asked sourly, worry eating at her.

  “I’m sure,” Lucas said, tapping the goggles he was wearing.

  They had come from the Athena Project safe house and operated as thermal imagers in addition to night vision. He was currently searching for any heat source on the dark ground below them and finding nothing larger than rodents.

  “Call her back,” he said in frustration. “He must have moved in the time it took us to get here.”

  Rachel raised the cell phone to dial Hawaii.

  “Goddamn it!” she snarled.

  Dog, huddled in the back with Natalie, whined at the obvious distress in Rachel’s voice. Natalie pulled him close, wrapping her arm around his neck and talking softly to him.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucas asked, moving into a broader orbit of the area.

  “No service!”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything. It was possible they were simply out of range of the nearest cell tower, but he didn’t think so. Australia had done a good job of making sure there was coverage along even very rural roads. At the moment, they were flying above a significant highway that traversed the Blue Mountains to Sydney’s west.

  It was very doubtful that they would be out of range, especially a few hundred feet above the ground. He was more inclined to believe that the cell and telecom system was beginning to fail without the constant attention of humans.

  “What do we do?” Rachel asked, not taking her eyes off the signal indicator.

  Lucas opened his mouth, but didn’t have an answer.

  “What’s that?” Natalie asked.

  “What?” Lucas and Rachel both asked in unison.

  “Out the left side. In the distance. It looks like sparks.”

  Lucas lifted the goggles off his eyes and peered in the direction Natalie had indicated. Rachel craned up, trying to see, but before she could spot the flashes of light, he cranked the aircraft around and shoved the throttle all the way forward.

  “Those are muzzle flashes,” Lucas said, aiming the nose of the plane at the occasional blink of light. “We may have found our boy!”

  57

  There was a sharp rap on the door, Admiral Huber looking up from his desk and shouting permission to enter. Captains Black and West stepped in, accompanied by a Commander from NCIS. They came to attention in front of his desk and he looked them over for several uncomfortable moments.

  “Captain?” he finally asked, looking directly at West.

  “Sir, we have some more information from the investigation into the assassination attempt on Admiral Packard.”

  The Admiral watched them for a few seconds before telling them to stand at ease and continue.

  “Sir,” the NCIS Commander said. “We have identified the perpetrator as William Hickey Jones. He is the owner of a string of convenience stores on Oahu and Maui.”

  “A goddamn Slurpee seller?” the Admiral asked in surprise. “Then it has to be politically motivated!”

  “Perhaps, sir, but maybe not in the way you’re thinking. Jones died in 1973 in Vietnam. He was an Army private from Baltimore. He remained dead until seven years ago when he suddenly reappeared and paid for his first convenience store in cash.”

  Admiral Huber glared at the news, slowly shaking his head.

  “A goddamn spook?”

  “Possible, sir. This method of creating a new person for an asset to assume the identity is certainly one used by intelligence agencies the world over. But, it is also a tactic adopted by criminals, especially those seeking to launder large amounts of hard currency. Invest in a mostly cash business and inject the dirty money into its accounts, making it appear to be from legitimate sales. Pay the taxes and it’s suddenly able to be moved through the banking system without tripping any alarms with the feds.”

  “So, which is it, Commander. Foreign intelligence asset or criminal?”

  “Sir, I would include our own government as a possible suspect. And I cannot answer your question at this time. We are severely hampered in our investigation because we’re limited to whatever data can be found within Hawaii. There are no longer any federal databases available.”

  “Best guess, Commander?” Huber asked, accepting the explanation.

  “Sir, I don’t have a guess, but I’ve got a gut feel. That’s the best I can offer at this time. Sir, I think he might be one of ours.”

  The Admiral blinked in surprise.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve been doing this for fifteen years, sir. There is just something about this man’s operation that feels like Langley. There are several things that make me feel this isn’t a criminal enterprise. I can detail them for you if you like.”

  Admiral Huber nodded for him to continue.

  “He was sloppy with his books. Late with his state tax filings multiple times, which means he was probably late with the IRS, too, but there’s no way to confirm. A criminal or foreign agent’s biggest fear is drawing attention. They would be meticulous. But if it’s the CIA and the IRS were to threaten an audit, the asset in place wouldn’t care. One phone call to Langley and a nice gentleman from one government agency would pay a visit to a nice gentleman at another, and the problem would disappear.”

  Huber nodded in thought.

  “Assuming you’re right,” he said. “Why the hell would the CIA want to assassinate Admiral Packard?”

  “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, sir. The investigation is ongoing and hopefully a clue will come to light.”

  “Goddamn CIA,” Admiral Huber growled. “How many of the bastards are still operational?”

  “Just over a hundred. That we know of, sir,” Captain West answered.

  The Admiral stood and turned, looking out his window at the blue harbor below. Taking a deep breath, he held it as he thought then slowly exhaled.

  “Bring in the ten most senior agents.”

  “Sir?” Captain West asked in surprise.

  “You heard me, Captain,” Huber said turning back to face the room. “Round the fuckers up. Every single one of them. There’s something going on that we aren’t meant to know, and that means it’s putting people’s lives at risk. Let’s get some of these cocksuckers in a room and see what they’ve got to say for themselves.”

  58

  “Fuck me,” Lucas breathed.

  They had just overflown the area where Natalie had spotted the muzzle flashes and he’d gotten a good look with the specialized night vision goggles.

  “What?” Rachel asked, worry straining her voice. “Is he okay?”

  “Can’t tell,” Lucas said. “Hold on.”

  He gained altitude and banked hard to make another pass, slowing until the plane was barely above stall speed.

  “What are you seeing?” Rachel demanded, pressing her face to the window.

  The ground below was too dark, even with the moon peeking through rents in the cloud cover.

  “Lots of bodies. Infected. Dozens, maybe even a hundred, all in a big, circular pile. I think they’re all dead.”

  “John?” Rachel whispered.

  “Can’t tell. Sit tight,” Lucas said. “Think we’re safe. I’m going to put down on the road.”

  He’d spotted the truck John had left idling in the middle of the road and made sure to aim for a stretch of asphalt well clear of the area. The tires touched down with a screech of protesting rubber and the aircraft quickly slowed. Lucas kept it moving until they were within thirty yards of the vehicle, then spun it around to face open pavement. Rachel released her door and was already on her way out, but he stopped her with a firm hand on her arm.

  “Gettin’ in a hurry isn’t gonna change anything and just might get us killed. Hang
on.”

  She glared at him a moment, then sighed when she realized he was right. Pulling the door shut, she waited impatiently as he carefully scanned in every direction. Seeing no movement, he killed the engine then flipped a switch that activated the plane’s anti-collision lights. Rachel gave him a curious look.

  “Middle of nowhere, at night, parked on a road,” he said as he checked his rifle for readiness.

  Rachel didn’t wait any longer. Popping the door, she scrambled out of the plane. Dog leapt from the back into her seat, following her to the ground. Lucas opened his door, hesitated and looked at Natalie.

  “Want to stay in the plane?”

  She shook her head as she climbed over the seat and followed Rachel. She was unarmed, having no experience with firearms, but had been fearless nonetheless. Lucas shrugged and jumped out, quickly scanning the darkness. Nothing moving.

  Going around the nose of the plane, he could hear Dog growling deep in his chest as he pressed tightly against Rachel’s leg. She had her weapon up, aimed in the direction Dog was facing. Lucas moved to her side, his rifle up and seeking a target.

  “Nothing,” he said after nearly a minute of looking.

  “Me either,” Rachel said.

  Dog had calmed, but there was still an occasional rumble from him. He smelled the infected, but didn’t seem overly concerned.

  “Nice and slow,” Lucas said. “Natalie, stay close behind me.”

  They began walking, sticking to the road until coming even with the truck. While Rachel kept watch, Lucas checked it quickly then moved back next to her.

  “Empty,” he mumbled.

  “Motorcycles in the ditch,” Rachel said, indicating the location with a small tilt of her head.

  “That’s the same direction where all the bodies are.”

  Rachel took a breath and nodded. Lucas leapt the ditch, going to a knee and keeping watch while Rachel and Natalie came across. Dog made an effortless jump, landing silently in the grass. Another scan and Lucas stood, signing to both women to remain silent.

  They’d only gone a few steps when the wind shifted, blowing directly into their faces. It brought the smell of a charnel house with it. Blood and bowels. Death. Dog lifted his nose, scenting. With no warning, he took off like he’d been shot out of a canon.

  ---

  Sailors wearing cold-water survival suits helped Irina out of the RHIB and onto the hull of the Key West. Igor and Strickland both sprang nimbly aboard, then turned back and took Admiral Shevchenko’s body from the SEALs in the boat. They followed Irina, who was being escorted toward an open hatch set into the bottom of the sail.

  Rolling in the heavy waves on the surface, the submarine was out of its element. Irina stumbled twice and would have gone down if not for the two men on either side of her. Quickly, they were all safely inside as the sailors and SEALs who’d picked them up worked to return the RHIB to its specialized compartment.

  A pair of sailors holding a collapsible litter accepted the Admiral’s corpse and carefully carried it away. The Captain and XO waited for their guests, well away from the open hatch through which wind driven rain was blowing in. The commanding officer was a tall man with a thick shock of black hair and built like a marathon runner.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Irina said, watching them disappear down a passageway with her uncle’s remains.

  “You’re Irina Vostov, correct? Captain in the GRU?”

  She hesitated a moment, trying to read his expression before answering, “That is correct.”

  The skipper looked her up and down before turning an eye to Igor and Strickland. Both were professional military men and stood at attention in the presence of an officer.

  “Which of you is Chief Strickland?”

  “Me, sir,” Strickland answered.

  “Then you know where SEALs are berthed. Dismissed.”

  Strickland hesitated in surprise at the abrupt manner of the skipper, then barked out an acknowledgement before turning away and disappearing into the bowels of the boat.

  The Captain glanced at the XO who made a small gesture toward another passageway. Four large sailors immediately appeared, encircling the group in the cramped confines.

  “Your weapons, please,” the XO said, looking at Igor.

  He glanced at Irina, who nodded for him to comply. Slowly, he removed his rifle, two pistols and several knives under the watchful eyes of the Captain and XO. A quick frisk confirmed that he hadn’t tried to hold any back. The sailor who had checked him turned to Irina, then paused and shot a questioning glance at the skipper.

  “Captain Vostov. We must check you for weapons and I do not have any females aboard.”

  After a long pause, Irina sighed and raised her arms to the side. She held the Captain’s gaze as the young sailor ran his hands over her body. She recognized he was doing everything he could to minimize contact with her and thanked him softly when he stepped away and nodded to the XO that she was unarmed. No one had failed to take note of the thundercloud that had darkened Igor’s features as Irina was being searched.

  “Welcome aboard the Key West,” the Captain said. “While you’re with us, you will be confined to your assigned quarters, except for meals and the final disposition of Admiral Shevchenko’s remains. You shall be escorted at all times and are not to speak with any of the crew. If you need something, ask for Lieutenant Commander Reece, my XO. If he can accommodate your request, he will do so. Any questions?”

  Irina, taken aback at the chilly reception, slowly shook her head.

  ---

  I sat in the grass, cradling Mavis in my arms. She was curled in my lap, clinging tightly as my whole body shook. Adrenaline was burning off and I was cold. Freezing. And the pain was setting in from what seemed to be a hundred different injuries. Bites. Chunks of flesh missing. Torn skin from slashing nails. None of that mattered. I was alive and so was she.

  We sat in the midst of a killing field. The two bikers had fought ferociously but had succumbed to the crush of bodies charging in on us.

  When the last female fell, I’d stood there in a daze. Exhausted, but ready to engage more enemies. But there weren’t any. After several long minutes, the fog of war began to clear from my brain and I took stock of my situation. There was literally a chest high pile of dead females in a rough circle around where I stood. I couldn’t begin to guess how many.

  I was drenched in blood. Much of it from hacking and slashing females with the knife still tightly gripped in my hand, but there was also plenty coming from the wounds on my body. I’d looked around for Mavis, my heart sinking when I didn’t see her. Screaming her name, I started to climb over the wall of corpses, thinking she might have been taken, then I heard her faintly cry for me.

  Spinning, I searched for the sound, then began hauling bodies out of the way until exposing the corpse of the man I’d saved in Sydney. Lifting him up, Mavis scrambled clear and leapt into my arms. Apparently, as the man was being torn apart by females, he’d dragged himself on top of Mavis to protect her. That act of heroism was why she was alive. His corpse had provided a shield as I continued to battle the infected on my own.

  Now, we sat amongst the dead. I didn’t like being here, but was having a hard time forcing myself to stand. The body had had enough. Was ready to roll over and shut down for a few hours. Grunting in pain, I overrode the urge and slowly clambered to my feet, Mavis still clutched in my arms. She wasn’t letting go and that was just fine.

  Sheathing the knife, I carefully picked my way over the bodies until I was standing on grass that wasn’t saturated with blood. Looking toward the road where I’d left the truck, I stopped in surprise to see what looked like aircraft lights flashing away. What the hell…

  A dark form raced directly at me, smoothly flowing over the ground. I grabbed for the knife and Mavis emitted a small scream of fright, then the moon shown through the clouds and I saw Dog charging straight at me.

  Setting Mavis on her feet, I had time to extend my arms
before he nearly bowled me over in his enthusiasm to be reunited. He shook all over as I wrapped him up and pressed my bloody face against the side of his. It took several seconds to calm him, then he looked at Mavis. She took a step back in fear.

  “It’s okay,” I said, waving for her to come to me. “This is Dog. He won’t hurt you.”

  Mavis didn’t respond, nor did she take her eyes off Dog. Tilting his head, he watched her for a beat, then sat, facing her, pink tongue hanging out as he softly panted. She stopped backing away, but wasn’t coming any closer. I started to encourage her to approach him, but remained quiet when Dog lowered himself to the ground, rolled onto his side and waved his front paws in the air.

  “He wants to be friends,” I said gently. “Scratch his tummy. I promise, he won’t hurt you.”

  Mavis stood still, watching Dog closely, like this was a trick. None of us had moved when Rachel and Lucas rushed in, rifles up. Natalie was a few steps behind, slightly winded.

  “Hi,” I said, giving them a tired grin. “This is Mavis.”

  They stood there, staring at me with their mouths open. I’m sure I looked like a nightmare after the fight with the females.

  “Bloody hell,” Lucas breathed, looking at the piles of dead females.

  After getting over his surprise, he began checking the area around us. Rachel stood there with a look of shock on her face. She was still wearing the body hugging leather dress, though now it was so tattered that it barely managed to serve the basic purpose for which it was intended. The view of exposed skin was mesmerizing.

  Movement drew my attention to the side and I smiled to see Mavis slowly step forward and extend her hand. Dog remained perfectly still, patiently waiting. An inch at a time, she came closer until tentatively brushing her fingertips across his neck. When he didn’t tear her arm off, she came another few inches, gently rubbing his exposed chest.

  With no warning, Dog sneezed explosively. Mavis jerked away with a squeal of fright and fell on her ass. For a few seconds she remained frozen, then slowly reached up and wiped dog snot off her face. A giggle began from deep within, then she was roaring with laughter and Dog was crawling across the ground to put his head in her lap.