The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  It was good news for him because it meant that a human might be able to find this Sally organization. Maybe he couldn’t do it himself, but he knew one man who might be able to help: Elias Leach, the former head of CINTEP and the man who’d ordered Jeremiah’s son abducted. When it came to tactics, no one was as well versed as Eli.

  And no one was as cruel.

  Eli had done what he thought necessary, creating a threat that would unite the world. He was still alive, Jeremiah knew, hidden away somewhere. But Eli wouldn’t run far. He needed to be near the power center—his drug of choice. So for the past few days Jeremiah had been focused on finding Eli.

  But he still had no idea where Eli was. Even Lendra’s searches had come up empty. How could that be? Someone powerful had to be hiding him, but who?

  Over the past year, Jeremiah had deliberately chosen not to search for Eli, afraid that if he found the former head of CINTEP, he’d murder him—rip out Eli’s beating heart and crush it in his fingers: squeeze the little man’s neck until his head popped off. Not just for turning Joshua into Curtik, who murdered millions in the Las-cannon attacks last year, but also for indirectly causing Catherine’s suicide.

  To steady himself, Jeremiah held Sophie up to his face and inhaled her scent. She squeezed his finger tighter, as if even in sleep she could sense his anger. Somehow Jeremiah’s rage toward Eli decreased, mitigated by Sophie’s life force.

  If only Devereaux were able to help. But he was in a coma and Quark didn’t think he would live much longer. So Jeremiah was going to have to find Eli himself.

  He flashed on Jay-Edgar.

  So far, Jay-Edgar had been above suspicion, for he had assisted in every search and even offered suggestions to make them more effective, but he’d always been loyal to Eli too. He was one of the few people with the expertise to manipulate the feeds so as to create the illusion that Eli had vanished. Could he be involved? Jeremiah recalled that Jay-Edgar had supplied the best analytical work pertaining to the Sally cells. Perhaps he’d gotten that information from Eli.

  And Mrs. Harris: might she be assisting Eli as well?

  Jeremiah knew that Eli craved the emotional bonds he formed with his favored few. He himself had been among those favored few, back before Eli betrayed him. Mrs. Harris was another. The old cleaning woman seemed an incongruous choice until he remembered that she and Eli had been lovers years ago. Was it possible they were still involved?

  Jeremiah thought back to all the times he’d seen her in Eli’s office over the years. He had spoken with her on many occasions when they were both in the office late—he searching for his missing son, she cleaning up Eli’s office after everyone else had gone home.

  She hadn’t told him much, but she intrigued him enough that he had conducted a little research, and learned that she had worked at the hospice center as a doctor, caring for Eli’s dying wife Emerra. She and Eli had begun a relationship, and she eventually assisted Eli in euthanizing Emerra. When the center discovered the act, Dr. Harris lost her license and served two years in prison. Eli offered to get her license reinstated, but she refused, choosing instead to work as a cleaning woman, like her mother.

  She insulted Eli often and he denigrated her as well. Was that foreplay for them? Their relationship might be ongoing. Jay-Edgar would know the truth.

  He’d had his suspicions about Mrs. Harris in the past and he had lately examined surveillance footage that captured her movements coming to and leaving CINTEP. He’d pored over surveillance footage going back weeks, tracking the elderly cleaning woman as she followed the same route to and from work. But the footage hadn’t shown him anything out of the ordinary. Could Jay-Edgar have manipulated that as well?

  Sophie awoke, startled or in pain, and began to cry. Jeremiah started on another song: The Rumble-Tumble Belly Flop Stomp. He put a lot of effort into it, bouncing and stomping around the room until Sophie’s tears stopped. Soon she giggled in delight. As Jeremiah finished up the song, he glanced at one of the nurses, who signaled that it was time for Sophie’s next treatment. She eased over and held out her hands for the baby. When Sophie spotted the biohazard suit, she started crying again.

  “It’s okay,” Jeremiah tried to console her as he handed her over, Sophie clinging to his index finger with her tiny fist, her face reddening as she howled in protest. She stared into his eyes with a ferocity that seemed highly intelligent: a reprimand to her protector for abandoning her. “It’s all right, Sophie. I know it hurts, but we have to make you well.” He gently disengaged his finger from her hand and turned to the decontamination area, a hollow ache emptying his chest, his heart breaking once again.

  Hannah and the two unarmored Elite Ops troopers, Gil and Finn, waited outside the decontamination area. All three looked slightly off. Hannah’s eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. Gil was overly solicitous, holding out Jeremiah’s jacket and helping him on with it, while Finn handed over Jeremiah’s PlusPhone, keeping his hand on Jeremiah’s for just that extra half-second. He wondered at their odd behavior, but he had more important things to think about right now.

  “I need to see Jay-Edgar,” he said.

  Hannah grabbed his arm.

  “I think you need to call Curtik in London first,” she said as she steered him toward his office. “They’re fitting his new prosthetic hand tomorrow. It would do you both good to talk.”

  “You’re right, thanks.” Entering his office, Jeremiah glanced out the window. The nearly empty street below felt spooky. Everyone in the city feared contagion after Dr. Jaidev broadcast a warning that people should stay home unless they absolutely needed to work: police officers and firefighters, doctors and nurses, those who delivered food and medicine. Wind swirled beneath gray clouds, driving debris into the gutter as a man tightened the collar on his dark jacket, looking furtively about before crossing in the middle of the block.

  Jeremiah felt the weight of Hannah’s stare as he hefted his PlusPhone. Even Gil and Finn had squeezed into the office, as if fearful of an attack here in the heart of CINTEP. Ridiculous. But they were causing no harm, so he let them stay.

  He called Curtik. Hannah stood to the side of his desk, her back against the wall while the two Elite Ops troopers maintained their wasteful vigil.

  Curtik answered his PlusPhone, looking pale, his dark hair disheveled. “Hi.”

  “How are you?”

  Curtik held up his bandaged hand briefly. “I’m fine, okay? I deserved to have my hand blown up.”

  “Anyone can make a mistake.” Jeremiah tried to keep his tone light. Why should he be afraid to talk to his own son? He dreaded the possibility that Curtik might some day refuse to take his calls. “Tomorrow’s the big day, right? The new hand?”

  Curtik nodded. “A robotic one. Later a replacement grown from my own tissue.”

  “You did well, Son,” Jeremiah said, meaning it. “The first mission’s always the toughest.”

  “Yeah,” Curtik replied, his voice sounding flat as he stared blankly at the PlusPhone camera.

  “I think you’re going to like the new hand.” Jeremiah smiled. “So much power. You might not even want to go to a replacement.”

  “Maybe.”

  “How long will you be in the hospital?”

  “I gotta go,” Curtik said, “It’s time for my pre-surgical exam.”

  Curtik disconnected before Jeremiah could say goodbye or wish him luck. At least he hadn’t shut down completely. The lines of communication between them, however strained, remained open.

  Next Jeremiah called Zora, whose face brightened into a smile as she made the connection. Her blond curls dangled to her shoulders and her brown eyes looked large and bright on the PlusPhone’s screen. “Jeremiah, I’m so glad you called.”

  “How’s Curtik doing?” Jeremiah asked.

  “He’s angry,” Zora answered, her smile fading. “And depressed. I d
on’t think he expected the opposition to lay a finger on him. Now he’s isolating. And I don’t know how to draw him out.”

  “You have to be patient,” Jeremiah said. “He’ll come around, especially once you get another assignment. The London Sally cell is still around. Lendra has finally released all our data to Britain’s Combined Intelligence Service, so Major Somers will continue as your liaison. From now on all orders will come from him. Okay?”

  “Right.”

  “You follow Ned’s instructions and you’ll be fine.”

  “I will,” Zora replied. “And how are you doing?” Zora studied him through the PlusPhone connection. “You look tired. Are you still on your pain medication? Are you taking it easy?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Jeremiah replied. “I’m fine.”

  Zora’s face fell, her eyes glistening with moisture, and Jeremiah realized he’d offended her. “Sorry,” he continued. “A bad joke.”

  “I know you think I’m a child,” Zora’s voice sounded raspy, as if she’d come down with a cold. “But I’m not. I know what I want. And I also know how you overwork yourself, how you sacrifice for everyone else.”

  Jeremiah didn’t know how to answer that. He knew Zora worshipped him, leading her to ascribe to him qualities he didn’t have. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worth her adulation but he feared she would take that truth as noble humility and only increase her affection for him.

  “I talked with Lendra,” Zora continued. “She thinks you’re close to finding another Sally cell. And I think if you do, you’ll go running off to take care of it by yourself. I’m asking you not to.”

  “I’ll take Hannah with me to check out any leads.”

  “It’s just that . . . I don’t . . .” Her voice quavered before trailing off.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be careful. You be careful too. You and Curtik have both been injured now. You’re not invincible, either one of you. Follow Ned’s advice. He’s survived in this business a long time. That’s no accident.”

  “So you really do care about me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “You just don’t love me?” Zora’s voice sounded plaintive, breaking ever so slightly. She blushed as she said it, but her eyes locked on his with the intensity of expectation. Jeremiah glanced at Hannah, who stared straight ahead, her jaw clamped shut. “Is Hannah there?” Zora asked.

  “Yes,” Jeremiah answered. “She’s always here. So are Gil and Finn—the fish team. Lendra won’t let me have a moment alone. Like you, she thinks I’ll go running off on my own if I locate a cell.”

  Zora’s blush darkened, but her eyes never left his.

  He found it astonishing that with the world on the brink of destruction, all humanity poised to die off, Zora was thinking about her feelings. Or perhaps it wasn’t so strange. Wasn’t he doing the same in his own way? Perhaps when death surrounded you, the desire to connect with a loved one was normal. So he could only give one answer.

  “I do love you, Zora.”

  “But not the way I want you to.”

  “I’m afraid I still see you as a child, no matter what the courts say. I’m sorry if that hurts you. You have an adult’s body, an adult’s intellect, a wonderful personality and a caring heart, but emotionally you’re not ready for love. Not with any man, and certainly not with me.”

  Zora’s eyes glistened again. She reached up to wipe them dry. “I guess I just wanted you to know how I feel,” she said, “that I’ll always love you. In case something should happen, I wanted you to know.”

  “You’ll be fine, Zora. Ned will look out for you.”

  Zora looked at him then with a sadness he couldn’t comprehend, her face crumpling. Before he could say any more, she disconnected, leaving him with the image of her sorrow in that last moment, the tears just beginning to leak from her eyes. Was she afraid for herself, or for him?

  His hand itched to hit the redial icon.

  “Not a word,” he warned Hannah, who stood rigidly, staring straight ahead, as if the opposite wall were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “She’s confused. She only thinks she loves me. If she knew the real me, she’d run away.”

  Hannah glared at him. “Stop doing that.”

  “What?”

  “Just stop it.”

  Jeremiah shrugged and then called Ned. “I’m sorry about this, sticking you with two teenagers, neither one of whom is thinking very clearly at the moment.”

  “They performed all right,” Ned replied, “all things considered. They just need a little seasoning. Frankly, the biggest disappointment of the mission was that the Sallies wanted you and not me.” Ned grinned, exposing his white, even teeth.

  “After this,” Jeremiah told him, “you’ll be on their list. Don’t worry. I’m sure they want you dead.”

  “I hope so,” Ned replied. “Especially after I smoked ’em out in Indonesia. I’m tired of you getting all the glory.”

  Jeremiah laughed, then cleared his throat. “Listen, Ned. I’m worried about Zora. She’s extremely vulnerable right now. She’s got some damn fool crush on me.”

  Ned rubbed his chin as he gave the problem due consideration.

  After a wait of several seconds, Jeremiah said. “Well, out with it. What are you thinking?”

  “It is confusing,” Ned replied. “Frankly, I can’t understand why she’s not in love with me. Not that I want her to be, but I’m so much more handsome and intelligent.”

  Ned waited until Jeremiah smiled and then said, “She’s lost her father, so my guess is you’ve taken his place.”

  “How do I get her to stop loving me?”

  “Just be yourself.” Ned grinned.

  Jeremiah shook his head. “Can you be serious?”

  “I am serious. Listen, Jeremiah. There’s nothing wrong with a little hero worship. She’ll grow out of it eventually, find a nice boy, and you’ll just be a warm memory. In the meantime, be her friend. Don’t pull her feathers before she can fly.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Thanks, Ned. You always know what to say.”

  “That’s because I’m a genius. Tell Lendra I deserve a raise.”

  “You’re paid way too much already. Because of your exorbitant salary, I had to drink a domestic beer last night.”

  “Good Lord! Did you manage to keep it down?”

  “Barely.”

  “The sacrifices you office types put up with. I commend you. Don’t worry.” Ned winked. “I’ll keep you in the loop.” He disconnected.

  Jeremiah wished he could call Devereaux too, though that bond was probably forever broken now. He felt lucky to have people like Ned in his life. And Zora. And Curtik. Which made Jeremiah think of Sophie. He wondered how her treatment was going, decided it was too early to call Dr. Poole and ask. He could feel the electric buzz of pain lurking beneath the anesthetic as the virus attacked his joints, eager for the drugs to wear off. His hands shook with tension.

  When Hannah put a hand on his shoulder he almost jumped. “Very well done,” she said. “You’re not such a grouch after all.”

  Jeremiah looked up at her and noticed the softness in her eyes, the slightly parted lips, her head tilted to one side. He knew that look. He dreaded it. The last thing he needed was another admirer.

  “Time to visit Jay-Edgar,” he said.

  Gil said, “We can bring him here if you’d prefer.”

  “No. I want Lendra in on this as well.”

  When he got to his feet, he felt a deep twinge of pain in his knees and winced. Finn and Hannah both reached for him, stopping when he glared at them. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? I’m not a cripple. Let’s go.”

  He entered Lendra’s office without knocking, Hannah and the two Elite Ops troopers behind him. Lendr
a was sitting at her desk, staring ahead blankly in that way she had when accessing her interface, while Jay-Edgar was examining footage from numerous sources.

  “What’s going on?” Lendra asked.

  Jeremiah looked at Jay-Edgar. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Jay-Edgar shrank in his chair. He said, “I’ve been watching you, waiting for you. Just now, I saw you with Sophie—and with Curtik and Zora and Ned. And I realized that I put my trust in the wrong man.”

  “You’re not going to deny it?”

  Jay-Edgar shook his head.

  Lendra said, “Would someone tell me what’s going on?”

  Jeremiah said, “Jay-Edgar knows where Eli is hiding. In fact, he’s been manipulating the CCTV and surveillance feeds to ensure that we don’t find Eli.”

  Lendra looked at Jay-Edgar, then nodded slowly. “Why?”

  Jay-Edgar put his head in his hands.

  Jeremiah said, “He thought he was doing the right thing. He rationalized his actions. Everyone does it, Lendra—you, me, President Hope, every nation on Earth and every person in every nation. We all cheat the rest of the world every day in little ways. We explain away our selfish behavior by saying that the world isn’t our responsibility or that other people don’t get to tell us how to live our lives. We make our choices and let others worry about the world. But not this time, right, Jay-Edgar? This time, if we fail, humanity goes away.”

  Jay-Edgar dropped his hands and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are,” Jeremiah replied.

  “He told me it was necessary—that he couldn’t help us if he was in prison.”

  “Of course he did. I understand.”

  Lendra said, “Well, I sure as hell don’t. You’re a damn traitor.”

  “Is he?” Jeremiah said. “Any more than you? You failed to give the Brits all the Intel you had on the London Sally cell until after Curtik was hurt. You thought that holding a little something back wouldn’t hurt anyone and might give you an advantage at some future time. Does that make you a traitor?”

  Lendra held up her hands. “That’s different.”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “It always is.”