The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  Lendra felt all eyes on her. These were the kinds of decisions Eli loved making. He enjoyed pulling strings and making people dance—the god behind the ghosts. This was what she had striven for these past few years. And now that she had achieved this position of power, all she wanted was to take Jeremiah and Sophie and run away to some peaceful cabin in the woods.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  “No!” Hannah said.

  She stood rigidly, fists clenched at her sides, glaring at Lendra. Gil and Finn scowled at her as well. Even Jay-Edgar wore a frown. But this was her job, to make the hard decisions no one else could.

  “We have to trust him,” Lendra said. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  All she could do was watch now.

  Dr. Poole made sure the helmet was properly seated on Jeremiah’s head, then went to her control panel and made several adjustments. Within a few seconds, Jeremiah’s body convulsed.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Lendra said to Dr. Poole.

  “Linkage is established.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Several minutes,” Dr. Poole replied.

  “Is there anything you can do?”

  “All I can do is watch his vitals while he searches for the information.” Dr. Poole moved an AutoLife machine into place behind Jeremiah and hooked him up to it. The machine would serve as a backup, keeping his heart and lungs functioning should he somehow be trapped inside the link. As Dr. Poole set up the machine, Lendra studied Jeremiah.

  His body shook, his hands clawing the armrests, his jaw clamped tightly shut.

  “What’s happening to him?” Hannah asked.

  “The one time I linked,” Lendra said, “it was a pleasant experience. Of course, I was linked with Dr. Poole and it was only a sixty-five percent linkage, so it was easy to retain my sense of self inside the connection. Jay-Edgar did a full linkage once.”

  “It was a controlled test with another CINTEP tech,” Jay-Edgar said. “Perfect conditions. Maximum compatibility with his brain—and only one-on-one. Even so, I nearly lost myself inside him. It was like he and I no longer existed independently. I was both me and him at the same time. Neither one of us could break free—as if by linking, we both disappeared. As far as I know, no one’s ever linked with two people at the same time.”

  “How will we know if he’s succeeded?” Finn asked.

  “I’ll pull him out after three minutes,” Dr. Poole said, “unless he somehow manages to free himself before then.”

  Jeremiah struggled against the bonds that held him. Straining against the straps, his body convulsing repeatedly, he opened and closed his mouth, but no sound emerged.

  Dr. Poole said, “I’m seeing utter terror on the Blantons’ screens. I don’t have Jeremiah’s screen connected yet, so I don’t know how much fear he’s feeling, but I suspect it’s a lot. His pulse is racing, blood pressure increasing.”

  “I think I know what he’s doing,” Jay-Edgar said.

  “What?” Lendra asked.

  “He knows that memories are retained much better in times of stress, so he’s taking them back to their meeting with Manyara. Even though they didn’t look at the paper until they were running away, he’s hoping to tap into that fear.”

  Jeremiah writhed in agony.

  “He’s dying,” Hannah said. “Get him out!”

  “Dr. Poole won’t let him die,” Jay-Edgar said, his words coming out as a question rather than a statement. “The problem,” he continued, “is that their stress levels would have diminished as they got away from Manyara. And their adrenaline would have been dropping too. So the memories might not be strong enough to recall even if he gets them terrified.”

  “I think you’re right,” Dr. Poole said. “But his blood pressure is two-sixty over one-thirty and his pulse is one-seventy. I’m not sure how long I should leave him under.”

  “He knows what he’s doing,” Jay-Edgar said.

  Lendra hoped he was right. Gil and Finn looked as if they might attack her at any moment. Hannah shot her occasional glances, always returning her attention to the screen. Her right hand, Lendra noticed, had drifted down to her Las-pistol.

  Should she call security? Were these people that dedicated to Jeremiah that they would attempt to kill her if he died? No, she refused to think about that. He would survive. He always found a way to survive. And it was his choice, damn it. He had forced the issue, locking them out, like he always did, taking the brunt of the punishment upon himself. This was the Jeremiah she remembered, the Jeremiah she loved.

  And he would live.

  Each minute passed like a kidney stone.

  Lendra found herself staring at the time display on her interface, then to the screen and Jeremiah’s obvious suffering, then to the anxious faces of her companions. Jeremiah’s contortions weakened. Was that a good sign or a bad one?

  “Doctor?” she said.

  “He’s coming out,” Dr. Poole said. She removed Jeremiah’s helmet. Yet he continued to struggle. His head moved back and forth, eyes closed, hands opening and closing weakly.

  Dr. Poole straddled him and firmly held his head. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. You’re back. You’re free. You’re not Ned or Rebecca Blanton. You’re Jeremiah Jones.”

  “The helmet’s off,” Hannah said. “Why isn’t he coming out of it?”

  “I don’t know,” Jay-Edgar said.

  Dr. Poole leaned forward and kissed Jeremiah, a long kiss that he fought for a moment, then surrendered to. Lendra felt her face burning. She glanced at Hannah and saw her cheeks flush as well. And Gil—she had forgotten about Gil and Taditha—took a half step forward. She turned back to the screen. The kiss went on for a long time. And the last thing she needed was another woman falling for Jeremiah, especially one as smart and beautiful as Taditha.

  Then Dr. Poole pulled back and Jeremiah opened his eyes, breathing heavily. He sat stunned for a moment and then said, “Thanks, Doc.”

  “My pleasure,” Dr. Poole replied. She remained seated on his lap. Why? “Did you get the address?”

  Jeremiah nodded. “It’s on Ritchie Road. How are the Blantons?”

  “I’m not going to kiss them,” Dr. Poole said.

  “Please check on them,” Jeremiah said. “They’re nice people.”

  “What?” Hannah said. “They helped kill millions.”

  “They were confused,” Jeremiah said. “Let me up, Doc.”

  Dr. Poole continued to sit on Jeremiah’s lap. “You’re in no condition to move. Give us the address of the warehouse and we’ll send a team over to handle it.”

  So that’s why Dr. Poole hadn’t gotten up. She wanted to make sure Jeremiah didn’t run off and do something crazy. She knew, of course, about Sophie. And she knew how hard Jeremiah would take that news. He was liable to do anything now.

  “I’m fine, Doc,” Jeremiah said. “Please check on the Blantons. You owe it to me. You owe it to Jack.”

  Dr. Poole finally climbed off Jeremiah’s lap and unstrapped him.

  Jeremiah looked up at the camera pickup and said, “Let’s go.”

  “No,” Lendra said. “Give us the address. We’ll let the bomb squad handle it.”

  “Sorry. Too dangerous. I’ll take Major Payne, Hannah and the fish team with me. But I’m going.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Lendra said as Jeremiah got to his feet. He grabbed the back of the chair to keep his balance. “You can’t even walk.”

  “Sure I can,” Jeremiah said as he straightened. He stood still for a moment, then stumbled toward the door.

  “Stubborn fool,” she said as she ran out the door, Hannah and the fish team behind her. She sprinted after him as he hobbled down the hallway, his back to her. “Hold on,” she called out.

  He ignored her.

  She ca
ught up to Jeremiah before he reached the stairway to the roof and grabbed his arm, spinning him around. “You can’t do this,” she said. She stared at his implacable face. “You’re not some cowboy. You’re not Superman. Let someone else go in.”

  “I have to do this.”

  “Why? Because you’ve got a death wish? A martyr complex? What is it that makes you insist on doing this alone? Maybe Eli really did program you to think this way.”

  Jeremiah shook his head as he pried her hand away. “It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t live with myself if someone else went in and the virus escaped. I have to do this.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly. Sophie might still pull through. You don’t have to handle this on your own.”

  “I won’t be on my own. I’ll take Major Payne in with me.”

  “Is that a joke or just a bad pun?”

  “You can’t run CINTEP if you won’t use all the assets at your disposal. I’m the best person to get the job done. You know that. And I can’t refuse to do it. I couldn’t live with myself. I realize that’s messed up. But that’s the truth. I’ll get you the address when we’re in the air, so you can bring in as many people as you want to back us up, but I’m going in.”

  He turned away and opened the door to the roof.

  Hannah said, “I’ll take care of him.” Then she slipped past Lendra and up the stairs. The fish team followed her.

  As the door swung shut, Lendra realized that perhaps the only person more alone than her right now was Jeremiah. Both of them had devoted their lives to their careers. And now they were isolated, with no way out. Perhaps if she were to leave, if she were to find the strength to walk away—if she could somehow do that, Jeremiah would join her.

  No, he wouldn’t.

  ***

  The warehouse looked dilapidated—two stories of aged cement block walls, with half a dozen small, cracked windows near the top and two rusting metal doors. The only thing remotely modern about the building was its sophisticated electronic locking system, which confirmed for Jeremiah that they were at the right place. Major Payne stood beside him, and behind them, the fish team of Gil and Finn waited at the head of an army of Elite Ops troopers, FBI agents, Homeland Security personnel, two Haz-Mat teams and a pair of ambulances. All together, they took up most of the closed-off street—nothing subtle about Lendra’s support team.

  Jeremiah felt a bit like the building: ready to fall down at any moment. He supposed he ought to want to survive this mission, but he really didn’t care. If Sophie were to die, what would he have to live for? Curtik had rejected him. Catherine, Julianna and Jack Marschenko were all gone. And he himself was a murderer many times over. Still, he would try to survive, if only to keep Major Payne alive.

  “There’s a dampening field inside the building,” Major Payne said. “Primitive. We can tell there are explosives inside, but it’s impossible to know how they’re rigged.”

  On the portable screens set up before him, Jeremiah studied the images being delivered by the hover cameras. “Keep those cameras well back,” he reminded Major Payne. “Don’t want their transmissions to accidentally detonate the explosives.”

  “Right,” Major Payne replied.

  A lone truck carrying two large metal tanks slowly backed up to the warehouse. When it got within ten feet Jeremiah gestured for the driver to stop. The driver, a young CINTEP agent named Adler, jumped down. He wore a bright red interface, part of the newest fashion trend, making certain people knew he was connected at all times.

  “Is that the sealant?” Jeremiah asked.

  Hannah nodded. “The portable tank is in the front. Fully charged.”

  “Okay,” Jeremiah said. “I want you and Adler behind those ambulances where it’s safe.”

  Hannah shook her head. “I’m watching you.”

  “You can do that from back there. Now go.”

  As they moved away, Jeremiah returned to the architectural plans Lendra had obtained for the building.

  “Not much time left,” Lendra said. “Maybe an hour. You sure the sealant will work?”

  “It will if we can keep the building from blowing up,” Jeremiah said. “I used it once before. It’ll spray out as a liquid, then foam up like a Styrofoam—airtight and providing a cushion effect should anything strike it.” He turned to Major Payne. “Let’s seal windows, doors, roof vents.” He studied the blueprints. “I want this place as airtight as possible. Though, with all the cracks in those cement block walls, we’re not going to be able to seal it off completely—at least not before it’s set to go.”

  “We’ll do what we can,” Major Payne said. Gil and Finn stepped forward and each grabbed a hose. Then they fired their jetpacks, rising up to the level of the windows, trailing their hoses behind them. Fully armored, they looked like astronauts, tethered to the tanks as they sprayed the windows with sealant. After the last window disappeared beneath the sealant the fish team vanished over the top of the building.

  Lendra said, “You going through a wall?”

  “I figure that’s safer,” Jeremiah said. “We can cut a hole in one of the block walls, seal it up behind us. That way we avoid any triggers activated by doors or windows. We’ll bring the portable sealant unit along.” Jeremiah turned to Major Payne. “No armor, though. The electronics might activate the virus’ dispersal or an explosion.”

  As Major Payne removed his armor, something about his size or the way he held himself reminded Jeremiah briefly of Jack Marschenko. He wished Jack were here.

  “You can’t go in blind,” Lendra said.

  “We’ll take a chance on a small camera and comm system,” Jeremiah said, “so you can see what’s happening. I’m guessing Manyara had a PlusPhone with her when she was inside and I’m hoping she didn’t rig the place to blow with that kind of sensitivity.”

  He glanced up as Gil and Finn strode to the end of the warehouse and leapt off, plummeting earthward for only a second until their jetpacks kicked in, lowering them gently to the ground. Gil and Finn returned the hoses to the tank.

  “Doors, windows and roof vents secure,” Gil said.

  “There are only about seven hundred and eighty-four thousand cracks left in the structure of the building itself,” Finn added.

  “Fill every one of them,” Jeremiah said, forcing himself to smile at Finn as he reached inside the truck and removed the portable unit—a scuba-tank sized canister connected to a pressure nozzle that would spray the same airtight sealant. “We’re going in now. You and Gil seal the opening behind us. If it all goes to hell, run.”

  “Right. Good luck, sirs.”

  After Jeremiah and Major Payne donned their haz-mat suits, checking to make sure their respiration and comm systems worked properly, Gil and Finn moved to a wall four feet away from the door, where the plans showed no electrical wiring. They aimed their Las-rifles at the wall and sliced through the cement block with thin red pulses that outlined a rectangular hole three feet wide and four feet high. As their laser pulses met, they ceased firing, then used their armored hands to pull the large chunk of cement block free. The cement broke into three pieces.

  “Do what you can to put that back together,” Jeremiah said, “and then fill the cracks with the sealant.” He glanced at Major Payne, who gestured for him to lead the way.

  Crouching down, careful to avoid scraping his haz-mat suit on the cement wall, Jeremiah scuttled through the opening into the warehouse, pulling the portable unit through behind him. As Major Payne followed him inside, Gil and Finn stacked the pieces of concrete into the opening. Straightening up inside the dimly lit space, Jeremiah noticed a blue tarp smoldering next to the hole. The Las-rifles must have penetrated the concrete a bit too far and nearly lit the tarp on fire. Jeremiah swatted the tarp, extinguishing the potential blaze. Then he looked around. Two LED lights hanging from the twelve-foot ceiling provided the only real illum
ination.

  Dusty boxes, dirty machinery and old laboratory equipment took up much of the wall space in the thirty-by-sixty-foot room while island counters rested on the severely cracked and uneven floor. Stacks of pallets covered one wall, while cabinets and a countertop fronted another. Boxes lined a third wall and much of the center of the room, while the fourth wall had five doors, all shut. Jeremiah knew from the plans that they led to interior offices and a bathroom.

  “Well?” Lendra asked through the comm link, “Any sign of the virus?”

  “You’re seeing what I’m seeing,” Jeremiah replied.

  Major Payne moved toward a machine in the center of the room that ran noisily. “Scatterer and dampening field . . . and something else. I think it’s a bomb.”

  “Don’t touch it,” Jeremiah said.

  He began stepping around boxes and counters toward the wall with the doors. “See any canisters?” he asked. “Anything that might hold the virus?”

  “No,” Major Payne answered. “Maybe she lied to the Blantons. Maybe there is no virus.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice? We could all go home and sit in our rocking chairs and drink beer.”

  “Don’t make fun of my dream,” Major Payne said.

  Jeremiah opened the first door, flipped on the light and peered inside—an empty office. The second door opened on a bathroom, also empty. Major Payne opened the door on the far left. “Empty,” he said.

  “These too,” Jeremiah replied. As Major Payne opened the fourth door, Jeremiah opened the final one. The light switch didn’t work, but all he saw were cartons.

  “Nothing,” Major Payne said.

  “No light in here,” Jeremiah said. As he pushed aside a large box in front of the door, a dark man leapt at him.

  He caught a flash of silver as he ducked and spun away.

  “Look out!” Lendra yelled.

  The man came at him again, slashing the air with a machete. Inside the haz-mat suit, Jeremiah found it difficult to move quickly, but he managed to slip to the side and grab the man’s arm. The man writhed in Jeremiah’s grasp, kicking and twisting as he spat, yelling in a language that sounded like French.