Madman's Monster

by Michael Louis Weinberger

  "I was told two o'clock," Timberland pointed out unhappily, "it's two thirty."

  Pollard said nothing and the doctor merely shrugged without looking at him and said, "So?" He spoke casually, as if he held so much authority that he was beyond the courtesy of promptness.

  Timberland was too on edge and he tried to let his rage out with each breath, "So I do not like to be kept waiting...especially when I've been asked to attend someone else's meeting."

  The doctor looked up from the computer tablet he was fussing with and stared into Timberland's eyes. He seemed surprised that Timberland had found the nerve to speak out against him. Timberland met his gaze, and stifled a slight growl that was growing in intensity within his throat.

  The doctor's face cooled and his eyes narrowed to slits. He stood up straight and took two steps to stand next to where Timberland was standing, looking straight into the mercenary’s eyes.

  In his naturally deep voice Dr. Whelan whispered, "You want me to fit you with a dog collar, Fido?"

  The words hit Timberland like a bag of rocks, making him stagger back a step in surprise. Then he let the growl erupt from his throat in a roar and he grabbed at the tall but frail looking scientist. His fists scooped big handfuls of the doctor's clothing and he lifted the man off his feet and raised him over his head before slamming him back down on the plastic table. The knife was out of it's sheath before Timberland had even realized that he had pulled it free and the edge of the blade was pressed against the doctor's throat.

  The doctor went wide-eyed with shock and fear as, apparently, he hadn't believed that Timberland would ever follow through on his threats and posturing.

  Timberland's mind came back to him as he held the knife at the doctor's throat. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to slice through the delicate flesh and let the blood spray warm and wet over his face. His mouth started to water at the thought of how the blood would taste in his mouth and the feel of it on his skin as he imagined cutting deeper and deeper into the doctor's body, until his blade found the spinal bones.

  If it hadn't been for Pollard pressing the barrel of the .44 magnum revolver against his temple, Timberland might not have been able to resist making the cut. Now, even with the threat of impending death pressed against his head, Timberland still had to struggle to keep his hand from killing the obnoxious bastard.

  "You pull that trigger," Timberland's voice was raspy and deeper than it should have been, "and my team will eat your guts before the sun has set."

  "Your team?" Pollard spoke softly, "Don't you mean your pack?"

  Timberland's eyes widened in surprise. Pollard knew.

  He let the shock of the revelation wash over him before he spoke again, "Call it what you like, the results will be the same."

  "Surprised? Don't be. It's what we do. What I do." Pollard moved his head in close to Timberland's ear and hissed, "Now get that knife away from his throat and sit your ass down in the fucking chair."

  Timberland could feel the words as much as he heard them and the threat within each syllable was enough to dramatically cool his ire. He felt his hand shake slightly as he withdrew the knife from the doctor's throat and made a point of sheathing it slowly before shifting his body and sitting in one of the three chairs.

  Pollard moved to another chair and set the gun down on the tabletop in front of him as he sat. This left only the doctor, who was still lying on his back where Timberland had pinned him, who rolled off of the table and onto to his feet, pausing next to the third empty chair. He didn't sit right away, but instead massaged his throat where Timberland had gently pressed the blade. His expression was complete indignation, but both Pollard and Timberland ignored it, so eventually, the doctor sat down in the last chair.

  "Now if you two idiots can keep from killing each other a little longer, we have things to discuss." Pollard looked at the doctor, "My sources are telling me that you have the first weapon ready?"

  The doctor was staring at Timberland, but he answered the question, "Yes, and not a prototype either. This is exactly what was requested, and is representative of what will be delivered in volume, pending the orders."

  "Not a prototype?" Pollard sounded concerned, "You've run a test already?"

  The doctor broke his vision away from Timberland, "What? No, but the technology is sound. We didn't have to invent a new delivery system as much as make the pathogens viable and dispersible inside the existing technology. Simple."

  Pollard shook his head, "I have seen the pathogens work as intended, and I have also seen the bombs work when delivering and dispersing other materials. Now I want to see them both work, as intended, as a unit, or there will be no payments and no future orders."

  The doctor raised his chin slightly, "Not from you, you mean."

  For the first time Pollard's face showed expression as a thin pressed smile stretched across his lips, "Don't even think of it. You got into bed with me and my people on this. There's no backing out now."

  Now it was Timberland's turn to stare at Pollard, "What?" he turned to the doctor, "You made a deal already?"

  The doctor remained silent, but Pollard spoke up easily enough, "Oh yes, the good doctor here has made the decision concerning with whom he wishes to deal." Pollard turned to Timberland and smiled warmly, "It was the right choice, by the way as any other would have forced us to turn this little camp of yours into a parking lot."

  Timberland stared blankly at Pollard, reading everything about the man's body language and expression before turning to Whelan, "Who does this guy represent? Who does he speak for?"

  Pollard exploded forward in his seat, half standing, with his face a mask of rage and his words hissing through clenched teeth, as he answered for Whelan, "For the biggest fucking fish in the pond, that's who!"

  Timberland jumped back in his chair at Pollard's words and just stared openly at the man.

  Pollard peered down at Timberland, effectively cowing the mercenary before he shifted and sat back down in his seat.

  "Timberland is it?" Pollard straightened his sunglasses and his voice returned to its normal octave as Timberland nodded, "You will find the other two buyers, and their escorts arriving from the south. Make sure to round them all up?"

  Timberland felt relief wash over him as he was given something to do. Something...anything... that would get him outside of the tiny room in which he currently sat.

  "How do you want them delivered?"

  "Alive please. Beyond that, I don't care."

  Timberland nodded, "Where?"

  Pollard thought about that for a moment, "You say that Whelan’s specimen was seen in that village about two kilometers from the camp?"

  Timberland and the doctor both nodded.

  "Is the first weapon ready for detonation?"

  Dr. Whelan frowned at Pollard, "I suppose so. Yes."

  "Good," Pollard spoke as if he had just figured out a riddle that had been plaguing him as he turned to Timberland, "Take them to the village. Leave them there."

  Timberland nodded, "And the villagers?"

  "Don't let them interfere."

  Chapter 47

  It took less time than I thought it would for Rogers to get the briefcase with the laser targeting system delivered. We were still loading ammunition into multiple magazines when there was a knock at the door. Rogers answered it and spoke with the young man standing outside. There was a quick and terse exchange of words before Rogers called for Larson to join them. Larson handed me the clip he was working on and strode out of the bungalow. I could see the young man snap to attention, salute and Larson returned the salute, then taking the clipboard the young man handed him and he began signing documents. He returned the clipboard and the young man handed him what appeared to be a legal size briefcase, saluting again and turning on his heel to leave.

  Rogers and Larson walked back in with Rogers shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief.

  "That what we were waiting for?" I asked.

 
Larson opened the case and immediately nodded back at me, "I carried one of these so many times in field that holding it now is like coming home again."

  "That was fast," I volunteered,” wasn’t it?"

  Rogers nodded, "Thanks to Larson here it was."

  Larson looked up, surprised, "Me?"

  "Yup," Rogers confirmed, "It turns out, that when they took the assignment from me it no longer remained in the jurisdiction of the Agency. Now it's interdepartmental with the Navy, even though no one is particularly happy about that on either side, but Major Richard Larson's reputation apparently still has enough clout to expedite the process."

  Larson looked as surprised as any of us, "Really?"

  Again Rogers nodded, "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

  The four of us finished our prep and loaded up the Jeep for the drive back to the village. It hadn't rained for two days, and despite the humidity we made much better time now that the ground had the time to dry out. Well, dry to a greater extent than the last time we tried to make our way in. We had saved maybe an hour of travel time when we passed the same checkpoint as before and this time the guards just waved us through so Larson didn't have to break anyone's arm to get it done.

  By the three-hour mark we were at the end of the road and had to make the remaining trek on foot. It was nearly six o'clock when we arrived at the edge of the jungle and found ourselves at the grassland we had needed to cross just the same as last time. We decided to skip taking a rest and kept hiking for the village. Our intention was to try to cover the remaining distance before the sun had a chance to completely set.

  We were only about fifty yards from the clearing in the jungle when Larson stopped us.

  "Something's wrong."

  Rogers knelt and surveyed the jungle, "What?"

  "Listen," Larson indicated by pointing a finger to his ear, "You hear anything?"

  We all listened, there was the usual chirping sounds of crickets, or whatever bugs made those sounds in Thailand, but there was something else. A buzzing sound that seemed out of place.

  "Bugs?" Chris asked.

  Larson nodded, "Yeah, but it sounds like a whole lot of bugs."

  Lei shrugged, "It is a jungle."

  Smiling crazily, Chris asked, "You ever see those movies where there's this huge army of ants that swarm over the ground and devour anything it crosses down to the bare bones in seconds?"

  Everyone looked uncomfortably at Chris, who shrunk down under the scrutiny.

  "It's not ants," Larson sounded confident about that conclusion, but still confused as to what might be the cause.

  I was looking in and around a collection of exposed roots when I saw a small patch of yellow and black. I moved to the colors and knelt.

  "Guys?" I called out, "Over here."

  The four of them walked cautiously over and peered down at the ground where I was indicating. It was a bird. Small, beautifully colored and very dead. There was no sign of what might have killed it except that it had only empty sockets where it's eyes had been.

  "Bugs do that to its eyes?" Lei asked.

  "Don't think so, the rest of the body looks untouched...and fresh. It hasn't been lying here very long."

  "So it's a dead bird?" Chris was getting anxious, "I mean this can't be the first time something died in the jungle, right?"

  "Maybe," Larson didn't look convinced that it wasn't a sign of something sinister, but Chris did have a point. "Okay, let's keep moving, but keep alert for anything out of the ordinary."

  We all stood and followed Larson as he led the way for another fifty feet before stopping abruptly again. We all waited but he just stood there looking ahead at the path we needed to travel. Rogers slowly began to move to Larson's position.

  "Rob, what's..." Rogers went silent as he focused his eyes on where Larson was looking. He froze as well, just staring off into the jungle ahead of us.

  Lei and Chris looked at me as if I knew what the appropriate military procedure should be. I just shrugged and began walking to where Larson and Rogers stood with Lei and Chris on my heels. We arrived and stared out at the jungle. Initially everything seemed normal, then I realized the buzzing sound from earlier had grown louder and that there were...objects on the ground in front of us that seemed out of place. Even in the dim light I could make out what the things were.

  Dead things. Wildlife of all kinds were just lying there. Dozens of birds and rodents, along with a couple of larger mammals including some small pigs and a deer. The mammals were in a poor state, as they looked like they had been deflated, like when the air had been let out of them it had left only their skins behind.

  "What the hell?" Rogers looked like he was going to take a step forward when Chris caught his arm.

  "Wait," he spoke urgently, "You said they were using biological warfare stuff right?"

  Rogers’s eyes shot wide and his hand reflexively, and uselessly, covered his mouth and nose.

  I stepped forward, "Let us go first, but cover us in case we're not alone."

  Larson nodded and pulled Rogers back to take up positions with their rifles as Chris, Lei and I walked into the kill zone on the jungle floor. We had only moved about twenty yards when we began to see even more dead things strewn about the ground, all leaking a black ichor that was probably blood, mixed with dissolved internal tissues. Some of the animals, like the birds, appeared relatively intact, but minus their eyes, while the mammals seemed to have fared even worse. There was a small pig on the ground that resembled little more than a deflated skin balloon that was practically floating in a puddle of what had once been its internal organs. The smell was unique as well. Not really the smell of death or decay, more like freshly killed meat stored in a refrigerator. It was still an unnerving, unpleasant and odor, but not nearly as noxious as it appeared.

  The three of us walked on until we reached the edge of the jungle, after which, the village stood in a clearing. The village looked abandoned without any signs of life. There were no people moving around, no animals roaming haphazardly between the huts and no smoke coming from the fires within the shacks. We exited the jungle and began to cautiously walk through the village. We began checking huts for any signs of life, but every structure seemed to be empty. It appeared as though everyone had simply disappeared.

  I pulled a two-way radio from my pocket and called Larson, "The place looks abandoned. No sign of anyone."

  "Any indication that a biologic has been loosed?"

  "Not in the village, but the wide and nonspecific species dead in the forest would convince me that something happened along those lines."

  I could hear Larson grunt a curse and say something to Rogers before he spoke again into the radio.

  "So how can we tell if it's safe for us to enter the village?" he asked.

  I looked to Chris who had walked over when he saw me speaking on the radio. He said nothing, but shook his head.

  "I think you and Rogers had better back out of there. We'll need to...wait."

  Lei had been out of my vision for only a minute, but when she came back into view she was carrying something large in her hands. It was the old woman without her eyes that we had met earlier. She was limp in Lei's arms, the life gone from her body and her face was covered in a stained mask of black blood.

  Chris sprinted toward Lei without realizing he was too late to be of any help. Lei put the elderly woman's body down gingerly as Chris arrived and he immediately checked for a pulse, but his hand recoiled at the cold feel of her skin. His head dropped as he could tell she had been dead for some time.

  I walked up to them and to Chris I asked, "How long?"

  Chris was coping by going into doctor mode, "I doubt two hours, rigor hasn't set in, but the body feels like a water balloon without any structure to it."

  I nodded and Lei lifted the body and walked toward her hut.

  "Where you going?" Chris asked.

  "I'm taking her home," Lei kept walking and entered the woman's hut, where we had b
een guests only a couple days ago. I could see in my head how Lei walked her to what served as her mattress and gently laid her down on her back and propped her head up on her pillow. I guessed Lei arranged the bed linens in what would have been a comfortable arrangement on top of her before saying a quick prayer over her then moving to rejoin us.

  "So what do we do now?" Chris asked, breaking me out of my introspective daze.

  "How safe do you think it is in the immediate area?"

  Chris shrugged, "No way to tell, but if your theory is correct then the nefarious Dr. Whelan didn't give his bugs a speedy half-life. He wanted them to hang around and take anyone out that hadn't bought his vaccination. I think we were very lucky not to have had those two military guys we brought with us infected."

  I nodded, but Chris wasn't finished, "They should probably clear out of here. Put some distance between themselves and this place."

  Again I nodded and picked up the two-way radio, "Larson, you and Rogers better head back to the Jeep. We found a body, and it looks as though she died the same way the animals had."

  "Are you guys going to be okay in there?"

  "Our unique genetics protect us from whatever hit the place, so we should be fine."

  "If it WAS a biologic weapon you're safe, but not if it were chemical. Are you sure of what you're dealing with?"

  I hadn't thought of that. I turned to Chris who just shrugged unknowingly, "Chances are if it's biological were fine, and if it’s anything else, we'd already be dead or dying, so the odds are we're gonna be okay."

  I sounded far more confident than I was, "We're going to take a look around and see if we can find anything that might lead us to their encampment."

  Larson's voice sounded choppy over the radio, "We're currently moving back, but how are you going to find the camp now? Your whole plan rested on Zach taking you to the camp."