Devil's Gold

by Julie Korzenko

  Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Mission impossible.”

  “What you didn’t know was the reason for that report.”

  “I know that OPEC requested it. I assumed it was a ploy for more payoff money.”

  Valerie shook her head. “Not quite. New World Petroleum requested rights for the area you designated up there.” She pointed to the whiteboard. “The officials in Port Harcourt refused unless NWP provided a positive report and steps for improving the livelihoods of those within the Niger Delta.”

  Cassidy frowned. “That doesn’t sound right. Why would they do that? It’s in their best interest to turn the other cheek and accept blood money.”

  Valerie popped the last piece of muffin in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “From what I could unearth, the pressure from OPEC, stemming from the unrest sparked by the rebels, prompted the local government to take affirmative action. That way it would appear they were protective of this region and fighting for its people’s right. If they refused to take affirmative action, OPEC could step in and take a stronger hand in governing this zone.”

  Jake sighed and nodded. “Makes perfect sense.”

  “But I didn’t write the report,” Cassidy added. “Why didn’t they hire someone else?”

  “Because ZEBRA is the who’s who of environmental studies,” Michelle mumbled, chewing on her muffin.

  Cassidy glanced at Jake, and he offered her a half shrug. “Possible,” she said and pushed back from the table. Collecting her discarded muffin wrapper, she tossed it in the garbage can. “We believe we know what they want but how are they going to achieve control?”

  Jake leaned back in his chair and uttered one word. “Genocide.”

  Cassidy gaped at him. It had been a theory, but facing the realism was an entirely different matter. “How could they possibly accomplish that without creating a worldwide upheaval?”

  He left his chair and stood in front of the whiteboard. Picking up the black pen, he made an X to the north of Port Harcourt, another X above the red square Cassidy had drawn, and a final X to the left of the Warri dot. “This is where they’ve purchased land.”

  “How does that point to genocide?”

  Jake drew a line and connected the marks he’d made. “You build a wall.”

  Michelle snorted, then coughed when she inhaled muffin crumbs. “That’s a bit far out, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” Jake agreed. “But it’s why they pay us the big bucks. Thinking outside the box is our expertise.”

  Cassidy stood and stretched. “It’s still a theory. Once we reach the coordinates pinged on the geological survey, we’ll know more. If what Jake believes is true, there’ll be evidence.”

  “Speaking of the Niger Delta, we’ll be landing in Principe in approximately two hours. I suggest we change into our tactical gear and prepare ourselves.”

  “Tactical gear?” Cassidy didn’t have any such thing. She glanced down at her jeans and shirt and wondered what else she was supposed to wear.

  Valerie waved at her. “I took the liberty of ordering you a kit. I’ll dig it out from the supplies and bring it to your compartment.”

  “If you say so,” Cassidy replied, still confused as to what tactical gear encompassed. “I’m going to organize all this paperwork and make a few calls. I’d like an update from the CDC as to the status of CPV-19.” She began shuffling loose papers together and stacking them in neat piles. Reaching her laptop, she shut the lid and unplugged it.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  She turned her head and grinned at Jake. “Sure. I’m used to snoozing on conference tables; it’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  Cassidy bent down and picked up her canvas bag. “Neither am I.” She shoved the laptop into its compartment and then filed the papers into another sleeve.

  “We have two hours. You can nap.”

  “Stop it. You sound like Valerie.” She gathered up the power cord from her computer and placed it into a side pocket. “One mother aboard is enough.”

  Jake sighed and mumbled something derogatory under his breath.

  It made Cassidy feel all warm and fuzzy that he cared, which irritated her.

  Valerie popped out from behind a door Cassidy never knew existed. She handed Cassidy a small black duffel bag. “There ya go.”

  “This is my tactical gear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Everything you need will be in there.” She disappeared back through the door, humming a Garth Brooks tune.

  Cassidy scrutinized the bag, holding it at different angles. “What’s in here?”

  Jake grinned. “Clothes and other stuff.” He whistled the same tune Valerie hummed and left her alone.

  “It’s the other stuff that concerns me.” Cassidy picked up her canvas bag and hefted the tactical gear on her shoulder. She headed into her compartment mentally cursing Valerie for sticking a tune in her head. Singing softly, she smiled. “Love this song.”

  She dropped the bags on her bed. Cassidy tugged the gear bag closer and yanked on the zipper. Within the interior she discovered camouflage military clothes. She grinned when she pulled out the pants and tank top. Never in her life did she think she’d be sporting the muted splotches of a soldier.

  Cassidy dug deeper and unearthed a large knife with an ankle band attached to its canvas case. “I like this.” She slipped the blade from its cover and twisted it in the light, admiring the sharp jagged edges. “Very pretty.” She tipped the gear bag upside down, and all sorts of goodies spilled onto the bed. Canteen. Glock. Holster. Bandana.

  Cassidy stripped out of her jeans and polo shirt and pulled on the pants, tank top, and over jacket. There were pockets galore. She strapped the knife to her ankle, gun to her waist, and shoved the other paraphernalia into accommodating folds in her clothes. The socks made her hum in delight. They were made of a blend of cotton and lycra, making them lightweight and breathable. A definite advantage over the thick wool socks she normally used.

  She bent and pulled her boots on and laced them up. “Thank you for not replacing these.” Cassidy couldn’t imagine breaking in new shoes over the next few days. Her shoulders shook in revulsion at the mere thought. “Can we say bloody blisters?” A watch with a large face and built-in compass was next, and she secured that around her wrist.

  Cassidy gathered her hair in her fingers and quickly French braided the curly mess, pulling it tight and neat against her head. She snapped a hair band in place at the end, then wound the bandana around the braid and secured it at the bottom. “Wish I had a mirror.” G.I. Jane reporting for action. Smothering a giggle, Cassidy stepped out of her compartment.

  “I like you in my colors,” Jake said from the conference room.

  Cassidy glanced down at her outfit. “I think the green is a bit over the top.”

  Michelle chuckled and moved past Cassidy to sit at the table. They were dressed identically except for the bandana. The ecologist wore it on her head, cap style. “Valerie says there’s a call from the CDC with an update on the virus you requested.”

  “Okay.” Cassidy nodded. “Let’s get them on video conferencing.”

  Michelle pushed buttons, and it was only a few seconds before an image flickered on the screen. A group of people in heated discussion gathered around an oval table. Cassidy leaned forward and moved the mike closer. “Liv, is that you?”

  Liv Somers, ZEBRA biologist, glanced up and beamed a large smile in Cassidy’s direction. “When the chips are down, you call in the best. How the hell are you, Cass?”

  Cassidy bent her head and smothered a smile. Jake rolled his eyes at the woman who was originally assigned to Pod Gray Wolf before Black Stripe became involved. “Tell me where you’re at?”

  “Let’s see … the first thing on my list is a note from the park rangers. The body you discovered on Yellowstone River is one Jason Gold. Heard of him?”

  Cassidy shook her head. “No. What did his background check unear
th?”

  “Not much if you discard the fact that he’s a brilliant scientist specializing in DNA replication.” Liz smiled.

  Cassidy nodded. “Any connection with Edward Fiske?”

  “According to one of the scientific Web sites, he’s his lab assistant. They’ve been working on a methodology to successfully introduce new DNA to red bloods cells.”

  “That follows in line with everything we know to date. Speaking of which, what’s the news on the virus?” Cassidy pulled out her notepad and scribbled Jason’s name on it.

  “This is one nasty son of a bitch. The formula you discovered written on the bathroom mirror in Salt Lake City has been helpful. Dissecting the genetic composition, we’ve been able to isolate several areas where a possible vaccine will work. However, you do know that there’s no known cure for parvo, right?”

  Cassidy and Jake both nodded. “Of course, only reactive treatment for the symptoms,” she said.

  Liv flipped a document onto the top of an overhead projector, and two images of the virus were displayed on the screen. Red and green were predominant colors within the body of the upper virus, whereas the lower sample appeared to contain less of the red strain. “We’ve isolated Fifth Disease and injected the non-mutated version of the virus into an infected wolf.” The biologist paused and took a small breath. “The cell on top is prior to the injection, and the cell on bottom is after.”

  “The prognosis?”

  “We’ve been able to cut back on the blood thinners. Heart rate is still elevated but not in the danger zone. It appears that the clean strain of Fifth Disease attacks and neutralizes the viral component of its counterpart in CPV-19.” Liv flipped off the overhead projector and stared at Cassidy. “They have a fifty-fifty chance.”

  “It’s better than nothing.” Cassidy pulled out her notepad that she’d shoved in one of the leg pockets of her pants. She flipped it open and scanned her writing. “Any more infected humans or canines?”

  Liv shook her head and grinned. “I think your immediate response to the situation has prevented farther migration of the virus.”

  “How about the wolves?”

  Liv glanced down at a piece of paper that was handed to her. “It appears that the numbers we received regarding the diminishing packs of wolves were erroneous. A technical guru from the FBI fiddled with the park’s GPS tracking system and, voilà, instant wolves.”

  Cassidy frowned. “I don’t get it.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. There’s definitely depletion in the northern packs surrounding Gardiner. We haven’t determined that the virus has spread beyond that quadrant as of this date. I can reassure you, though, that the numbers to the east and south of Gardiner remain unchanged.”

  Cassidy jotted some notes down in her pad and then focused back on Liv. “Have you isolated the transference aspects of CPV-19?”

  “Yes.” Liv paused and conferred with the person beside her. “This is Doctor Michael Rothwell from the CDC. I’ll let him finish.”

  Cassidy smiled at the young man. His close-cropped curls and large eyes provided an almost angelic feature to his face, but the moment he began to speak the seriousness of the situation was loud and clear in his voice. “Beyond the normal parvo transfer, i.e. digested feces, we discovered spores within the wolves’ nostrils.”

  Jake and Cassidy sat forward and glanced at one another with panic in their eyes. “Are you saying this thing is airborne?”

  Dr. Rothwell folded his hands and nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  CHAPTER 35

  EDWARD HEARD MUFFLED VOICES, THE FOG OF A DRUG-INDUCED sleep shadowing his mind. He struggled upward through the thick blankets of confusion and disorientation. His thoughts slurred, and he battled against the urge to release himself to the comfort of sleep. A deep metallic hum vibrated against his ear. Edward concentrated on the noise and broke through the last barrier created by the narcotic injected into his veins.

  His eyes fluttered open and he blinked in rapid succession, attempting to clear his vision. It was dark. A thin line of natural light flickered along the edge of one wall. Edward craned his neck and followed it to the source. He squinted, making out the rounded edges of what appeared to be a small porthole.

  With a quick scan of everything that ached, Edward realized his hands were no longer tied. They’d obviously dumped him in here and cut the ropes before leaving. He moved to a sitting position, rubbing first one wrist and then the other. Circulation returned, and his fingers no longer held that tingly numb sensation from when they’d first been bound behind his back.

  Edward felt the wall his back rested against. It was cool and smooth. As he tapped his nail against the surface, a high-pitched echo resounded. Metal. Another sound merged with the constant hum. It reminded Edward of the time he’d spent exploring an old naval shipyard with his father. That day had been cold and damp, making a young Edward crave the sunshine along the beach. He’d fantasized that the waves lapping against the hull of the dead ship carried mermaids on their watery carpet. Edward felt a brief surge of affection for a man he normally harbored hatred for. Because of his father, he knew his location.

  He was on a ship, and the sound that mixed with the hum of what must be an engine was that of water.

  Standing up and walking with small, hesitant steps, he ran his hand along the wall. When his fingers brushed against a vertical crack, Edward followed the line down to the floor and back up. A door. He spread both hands wide and searched for the knob.

  He found it and twisted. To his surprise, it wasn’t locked. Edward opened the door, allowing a small amount of light into his cell. His eyes adjusted, and he opened it more. Inch by inch, beautiful light filled the room. When he felt confident enough, Edward stepped beyond the door and into a brightly lit room.

  The first thing he noticed was a thick glass panel separating him from the men in an adjoining room. Edward gazed at his surroundings, absorbing the laboratory atmosphere that was remarkably similar to the one in Gardiner. This one, however, appeared to place him on the other side of the negative airflow chamber.

  He recognized the figure of Robert Cole and the thug who’d dragged him from the motel in Utah. They were hunched over a computer terminal in a heated discussion with a young man in jeans and a baseball cap. Edward rapped his knuckles against the glass divider.

  The three men turned around, studying him.

  “Dr. Fiske, how nice of you to join us. Please”—Cole waved a hand in the direction of a lone chair in the center of his side of the room—“have a seat.”

  Edward’s knees wobbled, and he considered sitting with these people a better alternative than fainting. He stumbled toward the chair and sat down. “What am I doing here?”

  “Research,” Cole said and turned toward the young man typing rapidly on a keyboard. “What’s the matter?”

  “It looks like they’ve broken the code I created with Jason that interrupted the signal feed from the tracking devices on the wolves.”

  Robert moved closer and peered over the technician’s shoulder. “It was a matter of time.” He patted the young man’s shoulder and once more faced Edward. “How do you feel?”

  He was thirsty. But instead of answering, Edward glared at him. “I’m not answering another question until you tell me why I’m here, behind this glass partition.”

  The man raised one brow and beamed a gracious smile at him. “I felt you were of value, of course. One of my associates indicated that you e-mailed Dr. Lowell with some concerns regarding CPV-19.”

  “My concerns have nothing to do with the virus. I simply need to complete more testing to verify the validity of the modification technique.”

  Cole tilted his head back and laughed. “Of course you do. And I have to say I appreciate an honest man. My onboard geneticist confirmed that very fact.”

  Edward glanced left, then right. Why was he separated? If they understood his data that was sent to Dr. Lowell, why keep him alive? “Why am
I in this negative airflow chamber?” Edward responded, wondering what game these people played.

  “Dr. Fiske, how else am I to test the antidote?”

  Edward bent his head, suddenly feeling woozy and sick to his stomach. “I found a way to help millions of people. You’re a monster. You’ve twisted my research into something evil.”

  Cole sat down and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. Edward’s mouth felt like sandpaper, but he wouldn’t show these people his thirst. No weakness.

  “I’m not a terrorist. I’d never approve biological warfare on my own soil. The ability to gauge the virulence in real-world situations created by your laboratory assistant was priceless. Yellowstone is an isolated area. I have every faith that between the CDC and remaining ZEBRA scientists, the disease will be quarantined and eliminated.”

  Edward bent forward. “And what of the lives lost before that happens?”

  “Collateral damage.”

  The man focused his attention away from Edward toward a man sitting in front of a computer screen. “Have you tracked Lowell and Anderson?”

  “They reached Yellowstone at approximately 0900 hours yesterday. My ability to track beyond their flight plan has been compromised.” The technician twisted in his chair. “They know Sharpe is missing. Our contact is on high alert, unable to feed anymore information.”

  “Hold on one fucking minute.” The brute who sat on the other side of the computer operator pounded his fist on the table. “Anderson and Blondie are still alive?”

  “Of course, Nick,” Cole answered. “I told you we needed them.” Edward cringed inwardly as Cole bent his head and laughed in a deep wicked tone, then glanced at the man who’d been ready to put a bullet in Edward’s brain. “I’ve already explained to you, they were meant to survive that fall. I only wanted to buy time.”

  The big man mumbled something unintelligible, then dropped back into silence. His presence at the table made Edward uneasy. There was nothing pleasant about him. If Death were human, he’d be his twin.