Madman's Monster

  "It isn't?" Chris asked.

  "No. It's containment, through the use of a massive combustible, and therefore, not an act of war or aggression against an enemy."

  I probably had a confused look on my face when I said, "And that matters, how?"

  "It just does, trust me."

  Chris and I looked at each other but the mercenary spoke again before we could, "Got any better ideas?"

  Chris was already on the move to the computer as he said, "Nope!"

  The mercenary started to follow, but I put a hand on his shoulder, "No tricks."

  He tried out that scowl on me again, "Or what? You do something worse than drop a bomb on my head?"

  I let go and he moved to the computer as Chris hit a final key.

  "Okay, you are clear to send an e-mail," Chris seemed to consider something as he spoke, "How is this going to help us?"

  "Pollard carries a smart phone. He doesn't always answer it, so calling him might not work, but he does always look at the screen. It's like an obsession."

  Chris got it immediately and nodded, "Better put something eye catching in the subject line."

  The mercenary had finished typing his message to Pollard and then moved the cursor up to the subject line and typed:

  "MOP Containment Imminent!"

  "That catchy enough for you?" the mercenary asked.

  Chris smiled, "Works for me. Steve?"

  "Just send it already and let's hope he realizes that if he doesn't call it off, then his bacon is going to fry as well!"

  The mercenary nodded and pushed the "Enter" key.

  I turned to look at the images on the security screen and saw the white plume of multiple vapor trails in the sky.

  Chris moaned, "Mmmmm...bacon," and less than a second later the ground shook again. This time, the sound of the explosions were loud enough to deafen us all, as dirt and other debris flew in through the doors. All three of us were lifted into the air by the concussion, sent crashing through the protective observation glass and into the laboratory. As I landed I could see a brilliant light growing in intensity before my eyes...and then everything went black.

  Chapter 61

  Larson was leaning against the side of the Jeep when he heard the explosions. Over and over again the sound of explosive ordinance boomed as it rained down again and again. He didn't turn to look as the missiles flew through the sky and then dove sharply toward their target. Nor did he bother to watch the explosive aftermath when they struck. He had seen it all before, but this was the first time he had ever left anyone behind at ground zero. That fact wasn't sitting well with him, but what could he do? He and Rogers had managed to extend their distance to nearly six miles to the coordinates that someone had sent to Rogers, which was apparently far enough away from the expected collateral damage area of the MOP that was going to be used. When they arrived they found a hastily set up command post that was supposed to monitor the blast as well as take them into custody in order to proceed with their debriefing.

  Rogers walked over from what served as a refreshment area and carried two cups of coffee. He held one out to Larson who simply glared at him.

  "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Rogers said as he lowered the cup.

  "Are you now?" Larson nearly spat the words, but his heart wasn't really in it so they came out in more of a tired tone than in one of righteous indignation.

  "Actually, I am." Rogers confessed, "Okay, so I didn't like them and I admit that they completely freaked me out, but Zach was one of us."

  Larson stood and his eyes burned right into Rogers', "You don't have the right to include yourself in our company. Zach would have walked through fire to get you out, as would have anyone else in the old unit."

  Rogers' didn't back down, "And what good could we have done?! You saw the devastation the biologic caused! We aren't immune to it like those freaks..."

  'We could have given them a chance!" Larson was pointing a finger at Rogers' as he spoke, "We could have given them more time!"

  "And let them walk out of a hot zone as potential carriers of the next black plague?!"

  Larson shook his head dismissively, "You don't know they would have been carriers."

  "And you don't know that they wouldn't," Rogers countered, "They might not suffer the disease, but that doesn't mean they can't carry it back to civilization."

  Larson tried to argue some more, but all he could do was ball up his fists and scream, "DAMN IT!" in frustration. He knew Rogers was right, and protocol had been properly followed, but he still didn't like it.

  Rogers remained quiet as Larson's anger ran its course. Once he realized Larson had sufficiently cooled, he extended the coffee to him again, "C'mon, take it."

  Larson shook his head, but stood from the folding chair and took the cup. The coffee was black and very bitter, but the warmth alone made it worth drinking. He had nearly finished it when a young man in a business suit ran over to Rogers.

  "Sir, we have a satellite feed and there's a phone call for you inside." he gestured at the guard shack.

  Rogers nodded, but held up a hand to cut the man off, "Okay, how long until the..."

  The young man cut him off, "I really think you should take this call sir."

  Rogers frowned and looked at Larson who also appeared confused. They both knew something was up and together they walked in silence to the guard shack.

  Rogers walked over to the satellite phone and lifted the receiver, "This is Rogers?"

  Larson watched as Rogers' eyes opened wide in surprise, "But, sir are you sure..."

  Larson could see that whatever information Rogers was getting wasn't sitting well with him.

  "Sir," Rogers tried to continue, "You can't think that simple ordinance can contain..." Rogers paused and his eyes narrowed and he raised his voice, "That's insane!" There was a pause before Rogers said, "No sir I am not trying to question the..."

  Larson could practically hear the person of authority on the other end of the phone as he reeled in Rogers. He had received similar "Talking to's" in his own day and knew the level of frustration that they caused. Finally, Rogers expelled a long breath and closed his eyes, "Yes sir."

  Rogers set the phone back on its charger and looked wildly at the smoke that was rising from the area of the jungle that had been bombed.

  Larson asked calmly, "What's up Pat?"

  Rogers looked to Larson and then moved to a spot where his laptop was sitting. On the screen were images as photographed from the satellite orbiting above their heads at that precise moment.

  "Pat?" Larson called out.

  Rogers collected a breath and then said, "Looks like you got your wish Major."

  Larson frowned, "What?"

  Rogers kept staring at the screen, his eyes searching for something, "They've called off the MOP."

  Larson jumped to his feet and ran over to look at the laptop screen, "What! Why?!"

  Rogers shook his head, "The mission is back in CIA control. Apparently the agent in charge said the area was contained and that retrieval crews can be sent in for clean up."

  Larson was so ecstatic about the news that he almost missed what Rogers had said.

  "Did you say retrieval crews?" Larson asked warily.

  Rogers sighed and nodded, "Looks like the plan wasn't to stop the spread of biologic weaponry as much as it was to collect it for ourselves."

  As elated as Larson felt, a sense of dread began to fill him.

  "Can the CIA do that?"

  Rogers chuffed, "Apparently."

  Larson shook his head, "That can't possibly sit well with you."

  Rogers never looked up from the computer screen and said, in a matter of fact manner, "No, it does not."

  Larson looked at his friend's face, and there was a glimmer of the man he had formerly known.

  Larson smiled, "You know, for a minute there, I thought I recognized you."

  Rogers turned to face his old friend, but he merely shrugged his shoulders before returning
his attention to the screen.

  Larson was still smiling when he said, "So what are we looking for exactly?"

  Rogers shook his head and tapped a key on the keyboard. Instantly the black and white image turned to a thermal scan.

  Larson frowned, "Half the area is charred or on fire. What do you hope to see with the thermal?"

  "Fire doesn't get up and walk away." Rogers said and pointed to a spot on the screen. Larson looked at the image but could only see the large flickers of what had to be flames. Rogers tapped a few keys, and then clicked his mouse on the area he had indicated. The screen jumped and the spot on the screen zoomed in to take up the full screen.

  Within the image was one very large figure that seemed to be carrying and dragging three more as it moved away from the blast site.

  Chapter 62

  It was nighttime when I awoke in the hospital. There were doctors and nurses moving all around but none of them seemed to speak English. Either that or they were just choosing to ignore me. I did a quick inventory of my physical condition, but as there were no splints or casts over my extremities and my breathing was slow and easy, I figured that I was probably okay. I tried to sit up and there was a great deal of soreness, but nothing much worse than what an overzealous workout might bring. However, the moment I sat up a siren went off and nurses came running in along with a couple of doctors, all of whom were trying to make me lie down.

  They all were also wearing what appeared to be some kind of gas mask.

  I was so freaked out by the scene that I didn't notice as one of the doctor's stuck me in the arm with a syringe until I felt the effects of the drugs he had pumped into me. I didn't pass out, but it was powerful enough to make me flop into the nurse’s arms that shifted my body around and set me back onto the bed. It was all I could do to watch as they began to fasten restraints onto my arms and legs, securing them...me... to the hospital bed.

  Evidently, the drugs weren't supposed to improve my mood as I desperately tried to get my body back under my control. In the end I just watched helplessly as they stuck an IV in my arm and then walked out past some clear vinyl curtains. Whatever was in the I.V. must have started to take effect because I suddenly felt dizzy and sleepy.

  The next time I opened my eyes, not knowing how long I had been out but realized it could have been hours, or even days later I saw Larson staring down at me. He was dressed in his regular Navy fatigues and seemed none the worse for wear.

  "Welcome back," he said pleasantly to me.

  I nodded and then started to scan the room. I was in a regular hospital room now without vinyl curtain or restraints tying me down.

  I tried to talk but my throat was so dry that it came out more as a croak. Larson shifted in his chair and handed me a bottle of water.

  "Just small sips, okay?" he said patiently.

  The water felt cool on my lips, but once it got to my throat it felt as though it was burning the whole way down. After a few painful sips though, my throat and body, felt a great deal better.

  I looked up at Larson and asked, "Lei?"

  His face dropped a bit and his eyes left mine to look a the floor as he said, "I don't know."

  I nodded solemnly. It was the answer I had expected. Then my mind seemed to clear even more, "Chris?!"

  Larson held his hands up in a gesture to calm me, "We found him. He's fine and recovering same as you, although he did have a nasty shoulder wound that needed tending. The doctors are amazed that it didn't get infected." Larson shot me a knowing glance as he said that last part.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief as I tried to remember everything that had happened up to now. I remembered being caught, breaking free, Zach's and Dr. Whelan's horrible deaths, hearing about the MOP...

  "The bomb!" I shouted.

  Larson shook his head, "Never happened."

  "What?" I stammered, "Why?"

  "Some CIA agent in the field called in an 'All clear', and the drop was aborted."

  I smiled, "Damn, it worked."

  Larson's face screwed up in confusion, "What worked?"

  I told Larson all about what had happened after we had parted ways in the jungle. I stopped when I got to the part about how Zach and Dr. Whelan had died in the lab's decontamination fire.

  "I'm very sorry about your friend." I said, but Larson looked more confused and uncomfortable as opposed to grief stricken regarding the news. Then he shook his head and said, "Go on."

  I told him about how Chris had brought the last mercenary back to the lab and how we had tried to contact someone named Pollard, who was apparently the field agent working for the CIA the entire time.

  Larson took it all in and then leaned in close, "Do yourself a favor, and never repeat that part about Whelan and the CIA ever again under any circumstances."

  When I frowned, Larson quietly elaborated, "the United States of America would never allow information to surface about any corroboration between itself and any terrorist organization, nor any practices that would be in defiance to guidelines set forth within the agreed upon war tactics as laid out by the Geneva convention."

  I shook my head, "I couldn't care less about any of that right now." I looked at Larson, "I have to find her and if Pollard has her, then I am about to become the CIA's primary concern."

  Larson nodded, "Of course. I'm already working on it."

  I narrowed my eyes, "How?"

  "We still, unofficially, have that mercenary Chris captured in custody."

  I growled, "Fat lot of good that does us, if the government won't let us question him."

  Larson smiled, "I never said the government had him."

  My eyes widened as Larson continued, "I said that 'we' still have him."

  I sat up and looked Larson in the eyes, "And just who exactly is 'we'?"

  Larson shrugged, "Me, Chris, you...and some big scary guy named Alpha who somehow managed to arrange the whole thing. Says he knows you?"

  I felt a smile spreading across my face, "You could say that."

  Larson shrugged again, "Well, whoever he is he certainly knows how to get things done. Frankly, I have no idea how he managed to pull that mercenary out of the government stronghold and have him placed in our custody, but I ain't arguing."

  I felt my smile widen even more, "Yeah, he has that way about him. So when can I get out of here?"

  "You tested negative for biologic contamination," Larson rolled his eyes as he said that, "Not that this is news to you, but the 'powers that be' took some convincing."

  Suddenly the whole vinyl curtain thing made a lot more sense.

  "I was in quarantine, wasn't I?"

  "Yep, seventy two hours worth, but you can leave as soon as you feel you have the strength."

  My heart dropped a bit at the realization that I was more than seventy-two hours off of Lei's trail. Larson seemed to read my mind and said, "We'll find her."

  I looked up at Larson and he nodded at me, "Believe it. I do."

  I nodded and held out my hand to him. Larson looked at it briefly before he clasped his own hand around mine and we shook on the unspoken promise to one another. We would find Lei and when we did, whoever dared to take her was going to die, regardless of what flag they served under.

  "Mind if I ask one question?" Larson asked as he let go of my hand.

  "Not anymore," I said with a smile.

  Larson smiled back, "Okay, so Rogers and I were watching as you and the others climbed out of the rubble, but when the Haz Mat team found you it was obvious that the three of you hadn't been in any condition to remove yourselves."

  I looked at Larson and waited for the question that was now screaming inside my own head.

  "So, do you still think Zach is dead?"

  Chapter 63

  The view from the pinnacle of the mountains overlooking Patong Bay is about as breathtaking as any view in the world. The natural jungle parted near the top, giving anyone who would risk the hike up the mountain a perfect sense of isolation, where they coul
d peer out and feel as though they were literally standing on top of the world. There were higher peaks in the world to be sure, but none were anywhere near Thailand.

  Zach didn't know exactly what drove him to make the climb to the top of the mountain, he was too single minded on completing the task he had already decided upon, but something drove him anyway. Now that he had reached the top he couldn't help but stare out and take in the sight. Without question the view filled him with awe, but didn't give him any peace. At best the scene distracted him for a moment and then his mind drifted back to Pha and the way the whole world seemed to melt away when she smiled. He closed his eyes and pictured her smiling at him as they read a bedtime story together and felt the tears start to form in his eyes.

  Zach opened and closed his eyes rapidly to clear them before looking out once again to the view. The world in front of him hadn't changed, but it had lost a great deal of its beauty when compared to the smile he had just pictured in his head. Zach swiveled his right hand around and felt the heavy weight of the Desert Eagle handgun that he held in it. He had removed it from the ground as he crawled out of the crater that the lab had become, tucking it into his belt, as he had dragged the three others to safety. The fire had scorched and singed him when it had gone off in the lab the same way it had so many times before, but each time his skin didn't seem to be as susceptible to burning, unlike everyone and everything else that came in contact with the fire. He didn't know why this was the case, but there were so many things about himself he didn't fully understand...and now he never would.

  He lifted the gun up and checked the magazine for what must have been the tenth time. He eyed the large, hollow point, .50 caliber Desert Eagle rounds, and was well aware that a full magazine wasn't necessary. Just one would do the trick, or it had better, because it was likely that he wasn't going to be in any condition for a follow up shot.

  Zach replaced the magazine into the grip listening for it to slid completely home with a mechanical click. He took one last long look around, felt the simple pleasure of a deep lungful of air and then in one simple fluid motion raised the weapon, pulled back and released the slide, chambering the round so the gun was ready to fire as he set the muzzle against his temple.