The Valley of Shadows - eARC

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The Valley of Shadows - eARC Page 10

by John Ringo


  “He will be predictably loyal to Bank of the Americas,” she replied. “He will be singularly focused on a clear mission and therefore easy to manipulate. By now, like some of the other banks, insurers and multinationals that are headquartered in the City, he is weighing the likelihood that this disease is an inflection point. He will be planning on how to keep the bank operating while being ready to respond if the disease has more impact than expected.”

  “Can we use that?” asked Gauge.

  “Smith and his bank, as well as a few others, not to mention the NYPD, will be important components of the City’s response to this crisis. Now that we have vaccine production underway, the next step will be to consolidate production. The problem is that the projected vaccine demand exceeds the source of raw materials.”

  “We have a fairly broad mandate,” offered Schweizer. “And the continued absence of the mayor means that we can continue to work through the first deputy mayor’s staff…

  “The secret finding gives us near carte blanche, Ken,” interrupted Gauge. “And we control the daily brief to the mayor, the deputy and the council. What we need is to adjust the crisis further in our favor.”

  Joanna favored Gauge with another look before turning to Schweizer.

  “We may need to accelerate the processes,” she said. “I am aware that Smith is developing contacts in Cosa Nova. I want you to do the same, and also consider some of the other organized crime factions.”

  Joanna watched Gauge hiding her disappointment, resuming her customary businesslike mask.

  “Sarissa, I am keenly aware of your contribution, but your efforts to deepen our network in the city council are vital,” she stated, narrowing her eyes. “Further, I want you closer to the district attorney. We must deter premature reconsideration of our new powers until the situation is sufficiently dire that the evolution of OEM can not be rolled back. We need the City to sample a little of Hell.”

  * * *

  This is what Hell must sound like, Dominguez had thought to himself upon entering the Afflicted Temporary Holding Facility for the first time. Initially the building had been labeled “Secure Infected Temporary Holding” by some dim bulb that hadn’t ever seen the movies, so Dominguez had rapidly changed the name from SITH to its current title.

  The volume of the screaming, howling and moaning from the infected rendered normal speech impossible. Efforts had been taken to visually isolate the infected from each other, which seemed to reduce the amount of sound that each zombie made, but the overall volume remained shocking. Worse was the reek—the smell of rot and excrement was a palpable miasma that saturated one’s clothing, even if a visitor didn’t touch anything.

  The top cop in One was fairly inured to the aroma now, but the noise level was still stunning. At least it wasn’t feeding time. Ding didn’t like to think about their source of zombie-chow.

  One of two facilities, the large Queens warehouse had a small set of offices that was segregated from the honeycomb of hundreds of small chain-link mini cells, each intended to hold one infected. Two of the offices retained ad hoc Visiting Family Room signs from a more optimistic time. There was even a small children’s play area, filled with bright plastic furniture in cheerful primary colors. Those rooms had remained unused for their original purpose, nearly from the start.

  The days when a cure was merely a statistical improbability instead of a forlorn hope were already far behind them. Initially, the number of infected held in the ATHF had been low, but once hospitals filled up, there was nowhere else to hold them. Moving the infected was a traumatic and potentially dangerous process. In the interest of simplicity, Ding had decided that rather than move the infected to another location, it was simpler to “process” the vaccine materials onsite.

  Therefore, one of the visitor rooms had been adapted into a processing center. Another was a training room.

  At the moment, senior police officers were attending mandatory training. That, in and of itself, wasn’t unusual. However, even during a lethal pandemic, Ding still noted the bizarre situation that he found himself in. To be specific, helping to teach Zombie Spine Stripping 101 was still damned disturbing, and the subject matter mandated extreme safety precautions.

  Despite the discomfort of their current rig, Dominguez and his students would have happily traded up to the even more uncomfortable environmental suits, but they could no longer be had for love or money.

  Dominguez wasn’t particularly unacquainted with human blood. He was not, however, accustomed to seeing so much it. The hooded 3M exposure suit he wore was liberally dappled with red above the waist, and completely red below the knee. The floor wasn’t just tacky with blood; the plastic sheeting lining the warehouse office floor was half a centimeter deep in carmine for a meter in all directions outwards from his feet.

  “Easy, easy, just tug steadily.” Another suited figure spoke, the voice somewhat muffled. “If you pull too hard the cord tears and then we can’t get it out.”

  The senior cop listened to their trainer, another suited figure. The third participant was his deputy precinct commander, who was struggling to gently pull on the shoulders of the naked corpse of their “subject.” Despite the hip-high gurney that had been placed in the center of the space, the cops struggled to manipulate the uncooperative corpse. Blood and lymph made a firm grip impossible, and the dead weight of the body worked against the team. Ding had recruited, well, extorted a compromised medical examiner to teach his cadre how to strip the spine from a dead zombie. Ding firmly believed that rank had its privileges, including going first and setting the example for the more junior officers whom he had selected.

  However, cleanly severing a human neck while keeping the spinal cord intact and connected to the brainstem was surprisingly difficult. They had wasted one “asset” already and their co-opted medical examiner was getting frustrated.

  Just getting this far was a technical process that could not be approached in a slapdash fashion. The human neck is packed with a remarkable amount of gristly connective tissue, and it had to be carefully dissected without damaging the all important trophy.

  “Look, if you yank too sharply, you’ll just shear the cord—it doesn’t have shit for tensile strength,” the shanghaied medical examiner said, irritated. “Do that and you waste the sample—might as well start over with the next one. What you want to do is sever the connective tissue between the head and the trunk just above the shoulders, leaving a few cervical vertebrae as an anchor point. Once you have it all separated, you can carefully slide the tissue out of the spinal column.”

  When the deputy returned to probing the gaping neck wound on the corpse with a large serrated knife, one the cops watching the demonstration turned his head, his stomach spasming.

  “For chrissakes, don’t puke on the assets!” the medical examiner said, scolding the cop who had moved too close to the four additional corpses stacked in pairs on the side tables.

  Noting the watchers’ discomfort, Dominguez added to the instructor’s comments.

  “Also, the other thing is that once you are in this suit, you really, really don’t want to upchuck.” He spoke slowly for clarity and emphasis. “These masks will protect you from the droplet borne virus, but you have to maintain a perfect seal. Puke will clog the intake, it will almost certainly make you choke and it could cause a suit failure if you tear at your own protective equipment in order to try to catch a breath.”

  The NIOSH certified full face respirators had been a godsend. When he tried to procure the necessary amount via the department there were already none to be had, but the bank had stockpiled an impressive amount. Now, he owed Smith a rather large favor. These even had two-stage filters, which added only incrementally to the protection but looked impressive as hell and bolstered the confidence of his harvest team.

  “As soon as we have the first batch of effective vaccine, you’ll all get the primer,” Dominguez said, trying to reassure his team of students by repeating the terms of their
additional duty. “That’ll give you some protection. But for now, you must be very, very careful!”

  Ding continued to maintain his hold on the shaggy black hair of the corpse as his partner finished cutting the last bit of connective tissue holding the head to the trunk. His gloves prevented him feeling the hair itself, which was probably for the best. Judging from the condition and smell of the body, this zombie had been a homeless man before H7D3 turned him into another lethal carnivore.

  The spinal cord finally slid smoothly free in a rush of fluid, the yellow tissue visibly flecked with red.

  “That’s the stuff!” the examiner said, pointing with one gloved finger at the just barely visible red flecks on the neural tissue. “That discoloration is the pay dirt. Handle it carefully to avoid contaminating the specimen.”

  “Or yourself,” Ding added. As he stepped to one side to afford the audience a better view, his booted feet squelched. “Lose your breathing protection seal around this much aerosolized blood and you’ll contaminate yourself, earning a one way ticket to becoming the next contestant in a game of…”

  The police captain held up the severed head, trailing the all important viral sample.

  “…‘Organ Donor Card Bingo!’”

  While the examiner watched, Ding gestured to his assistant who picked up a specimen bag into which Dominguez slowly lowered the sample, finally snipping the cord free at the base of the skull. He casually dropped the head onto the chest of the corpse while the assistant carefully placed the sealed bag on a bed of ice inside a cooler.

  “Good job,” Ding said. His grim smile was plainly visible through the faceplate of his mask. “Got it done. First two volunteers, jock up. Don’t forget the Kevlar gloves—you will want maximum sharps protection. Second pair, move these processed remains into that bin.”

  He gestured to a large open wheeled stainless steel bin labeled recycling. “Then we’ll work through the next four stiffs, one per student pair, and then go wrangle some more.”

  * * *

  “Yes, even during a slow-moving zombie apocalypse, we still have meetings.”

  A few tired smiles appeared around the table.

  Most of the North American security managers for the bank, as well as some additional hand picked staff, were back in the high-security conference room and the door was closed. One of the fluorescent bulbs flickered distractingly.

  Tom Smith was already standing at the head of the table.

  “This team, the people actually inside this room, represent the core of the bank security team that will continue to implement Plan Zeus. For those of you unaware of Zeus, we’ll unpack more details during this meeting as well as during subsequent get togethers. Most of you know each other already. As for the rest…”

  Tom indicated Brad Depine whose shirt sported dark crescents under his arms despite the air conditioning.

  “Mr. Depine has been hand selected by the CEO to provide financial oversight and liquidity as required.” If anything, Depine’s saturnine expression deepened.

  “This is Ms. Sophia Smith.” Sophia was a slightly built blonde wearing a cream business suit. She appeared to be ridiculously young to be in a meeting about zombies. “Yes, she is a relation, a niece. As such, she holds my unequivocal trust. She is Dr. Curry’s new assistant, augmenting Kendra.”

  Sophia looked tense, but controlled. A few people nodded to her. Next to her was another young woman, built considerably larger, though a family resemblance was evident. She wore utilities, a mostly empty equipment harness and a bored expression.

  “Next to Sophia is my second niece, Ms. Faith Smith. Faith will be…working on tasks as assigned.”

  The second Ms. Smith exhaled audibly and rolled her eyes.

  “Durante will now run the Building Protection team, replacing the late Mr. Skorpio,” Tom continued, picking up the pace. “Kaplan will run the Executive Protection team. We’re suspending most Anti-Fraud operations, all book running for deals in process and delegating foreign travel itinerary reviews to individual travelers. With the spreading nation-state quarantines there are fewer of those anyway. These changes are intended to free up staff for an operations center that will support the collection of raw vaccine ingredients and the manufacture of vaccine. Rune will continue in charge of intel and will manage the ops center.”

  Down the table an arm in a pale designer shirt went up.

  “No questions yet,” Tome said. “Each of you is a proven, reliable teammate, known to me personally or vouched for by someone I trust. During this meeting, you will be brought all the way in on critical actions needed to assure personal safety, the safety of our families and the survival of the banking system which is funding the efforts to mass produce vaccine and find a cure. The actions we must take are…”

  Tom paused and considered his next words carefully.

  “…discomforting and extralegal. Discomfort is to expected. If you are entirely opposed to this course, this is your last chance to leave. Requests for reassignment or resignation made subsequent to this meeting won’t be honored until such time as our plan is ready to launch. This is your last opportunity to depart the platform without penalty. Staying may expose you to legal jeopardy and some personal risk.”

  He paused again and waited for several moments. No one moved. Rune, who had been read into the plan for a while, looked around the room as well, pausing briefly as he considered Jones.

  “All right,” Smith continued. “All NDAs remain in effect. I consider all you committed to our plan.”

  He slowly looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each team member in turn.

  “Next, some announcements. The Bank didn’t move fast enough at the start, so we didn’t get our first picks for refuge locations. Some are going to be little farther away than I like. Consequently, I am setting up a study group to identify SAFEs.”

  He saw Paul and few others nod, but also noted a several blank looks.

  “Not big metal boxes for money,” Tom said, folding his arms across his chest. “Selected Area For Evasion. A place that isn’t necessarily a long-term refuge, but which is situated away from the likely lanes of what I’ll politely term refugee drift will occur. If this all goes for a ball of chalk, the sudden breakdown in city and suburban infrastructure is going to generate a massive amount of refugees, which will promptly freeze every major highway.”

  “Travel during first day after an incipient societywide collapse will be very difficult,” Kendra said, earning a squint from her boss. “Day two, forget about it.” She steepled her fingers, the skin showing white at the knuckles. “The entire D.C.–New York–Boston axis is going to be impassable. Anyone who isn’t already at one of the Sites is done.”

  A fraud analyst began to retort, but Tom cut him off.

  “She’s not wrong,” he said, favoring Kendra with an approving look. “I recognize there are those,” he gave Depine a less favorable look, “who without background in this field find Kendra’s analysis problematic. That’s a lack of both training and experience…on the part of the skeptics. My physical security specialists don’t tell you about anti-fraud or market making, so don’t question their competence about security issues. Stay in your lane. I’ll add that anyone stuck in the initial stampede is at high risk. So, Kendra’s team will identify potential SAFEs—way stations if you will.”

  He glanced over at Rune and Jones. “Have a list ready for me to consider in three days. Next item.”

  Tom leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. He scanned the room again. Slowly. Deliberately.

  “We are making an effective vaccine.”

  A hand shot up.

  Tom shook his head, aggravated.

  “Not yet,” he repeated himself. “We now have an effective vaccine. In fact, we’ve got the first eighty doses. These doses are either being administered to personnel with the highest risk of exposure or to irreplaceable personnel in critical roles. Everyone in this room is eligible for the vaccine.”

&nb
sp; The same hand went up again.

  “Where’s the vaccine coming from?” the anti-fraud analyst asked. “How are we making it?”

  “Dr. Curry will describe the process in a moment,” Tom said, straightening. “I want to be clear on what you get in exchange for being part of this permanent team and maintaining absolute confidentiality. You’re placed on the priority list for the vaccine, which is a multipart course of injections. You’re guaranteed a seat for yourself and while you were selected in part because you have few or no nearby family, you will also be allotted up to three family member spaces at one of the bank’s safe havens, depending on your role and physical risk.”

  Exciting buzzing interrupted Smith, who let it run for a moment before continuing.

  “Next detail. We have sought and received permission to acquire and equip with much heavier weaponry than the limited number of pistols, Tasers and single use injectors now in our inventory. Kaplan will be scheduling in-house training. Wave to the crowd, Kapman.”

  Kaplan raised his hand and grinned. He had been lobbying for a while to buy some weapons with more authority than Tasers and pistols.

  “The training is mandatory,” Tom continued. “This means you too, Paul.”

  Good natured laughter sounded briefly. Rune’s single-minded focus on work, his guitar and more work—in that order—were well known among his staff.

  “For obvious reasons, it’s now profoundly in your own self-interest to keep all such details secure,” Tom continued, sounding more relaxed than he actually was. “For that reason, you aren’t allowed to divulge or discuss any further details of this plan or our preparations outside the people currently in this room. Finally, in exchange for the personal and legal risks that this will entail, we’ll place your family members on the secondary list for the vaccination schedule, making doses available after critical staff are all protected. Let me add: as NDAs go, ours has new teeth. If you break the NDA prior to completing the course of vaccinations, your protection is suspended. If you violate the NDA after vaccination is complete, your evacuation quota will be revoked and you will be indefinitely detained inside these premises.”

 

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