by CW Browning
“How do you know a car isn't going to come along while we're in here?” he asked as she began to climb up.
“Because I have control of the elevators,” she said over her shoulder. “Come on, gunny. You're not getting soft on me, are you?”
“Hmpf.” Michael grunted and followed her up, his lips pressed together. She was scaling the steel shaft like a monkey while he, on the other hand, thought he would expire right then and there. His breath came fast and shallow and his biceps burned in protest. “I'm getting too old for this shit.”
“That's what a desk job will do to you,” she told him cheerfully. “Almost there. You'll make it.”
“Stop patronizing me.”
“Stop whining like a little girl.”
Viper reached the access door to the third floor and pulled out the crow bar she had looped into her leg holster. Inserting it into the seam of the door, she pushed and the access doors slid open. Viper pulled herself through the opening into a service corridor and turned to hold out her hand to Michael. She burst out laughing when he glared at her and ignored her outstretched hand. Standing, she watched as he pulled himself through the open doors and straightened up beside her. The doors slid closed and she pulled a small tablet out of one of her cargo pockets. A few swipes and he heard the elevators start moving again.
“Was all that really necessary?” Michael demanded breathlessly, looking at her.
Her hair was pulled back in a slinky pony-tail, she was dressed in black military-style cargo pants and gray t-shirt, and he noted that she was not remotely out of breath. At his question, she raised one eyebrow slightly and looked at him with unreadable dark eyes.
“You're the one who thinks someone is listening to your phone conversations,” she replied. “You tell me.”
Michael hesitated, then sighed.
“I had a tail this morning,” he admitted. “I lost them before I headed north, but someone is watching me.”
“Then I'd say it was very necessary,” Viper said decisively. “Let me see your phone.”
Michael handed it over and watched as she pulled out her own phone along with a slim cord with a mini usb on either end. She plugged one end into his phone and the other into hers, then swiped her own and handed his back to him.
“Hold this,” she murmured.
Michael took it, watching as she opened an app on hers. His eyebrows soared into his forehead when a black screen opened and she began typing codes into the screen.
“Are you hacking my phone?” he asked, impressed despite himself.
“In a way,” she answered absently. “I'm downloading a mirror image onto your phone that will confuse the GPS into thinking that you're somewhere you're not.”
“Where?”
“Here.” Alina finished typing and watched as a download started. “We're going to leave, but your phone will still think it's here.”
“For how long?” Michael asked, watching as the download ran, increasing in speed until it suddenly finished.
“Until I remove the mirror,” she answered, pulling the wire from his phone and tucking hers back into her pocket.
“So this is how you move around without being seen by the satellites,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He encountered a hooded, uncommitted glance from Viper as she turned and began walking down the service corridor toward the stairwell at the end.
“One of them,” she said evasively. “Why are you being watched?”
“I think someone is nervous about what I found out yesterday,” Michael said, falling into step beside her.
She glanced at him, then held up a hand to prevent him from continuing. Michael fell silent obediently and followed her through the doors to the stairwell. They jogged down the stairs until they reached street level and Alina opened the door. Michael followed her outside to be whipped in the face with a brisk ocean breeze coming off the harbor. They emerged into the courtyard behind the luxury apartment building, facing the inner harbor, and Michael took a deep breath. He looked out over the water, choppy in the morning wind. They stood for a moment, enjoying the waves and the fresh breeze, watching the sunlight glint off the water.
“Let's walk,” Viper said after a moment.
She turned to walk away from the courtyard, following a brick bike path that ran parallel with the bay. There were few people around this time of the morning on a weekday, and Michael relaxed, taking a deep breath.
“After you told me about the bombs, I went to see an old friend of mine,” he began, falling into step beside her. “He was a medic when Dave and I were in Iraq. He works in a hospital in DC, specializing in infectious diseases. When you said you believed it may be a chemical weapon that was in play, he was the only person I could think of to point me in the right direction. It was a long shot.”
“No wonder you've got people following you!” Viper exclaimed. “I told you to find the travelers from Mexico, not go poking around in theories about infectious diseases.”
“And I have information on the travelers too,” Michael retorted, amused. “Do you want to hear what I found out or not?”
“Go on. Thrill me.”
“All the metro area hospitals have been stockpiling an antidote for Anthrax,” he continued. “Trasker Pharmaceuticals managed to convince them all that there is a very real threat of widespread attack. My friend, however, is convinced that it's not an antidote for Anthrax at all.”
“What does he think it's for?” Viper asked softly.
“A mutated strain of Ebola.”
If Michael was expecting any kind of reaction, he was sorely disappointed. Alina didn't miss a step and not a muscle on her face twitched in acknowledgment of his bombshell news. When it became apparent she wasn't going to respond, he continued.
“He gave me a sample of the antidote and the name of a biochemical engineer in Morgantown, West Virginia. I drove three hours to see him. This guy was on the ground in Africa during the Ebola outbreak there a few years back. Let me tell you, he's a piece of work.”
“In what way?”
“Well, he's brilliant, for starters,” Michael glanced at her. “Have you ever encountered a genius? They're....interesting.”
Alina looked at him, her lips curving.
“That's a tactful way of putting it,” she murmured. “I do believe your time in politics is beginning to show.”
“I'm not in politics,” Michael grumbled. “At least, not last time I checked.”
“Hm. Whatever lets you sleep, gunny.” Viper returned her attention to the path ahead of them and their surroundings. “What did the genius have to say?”
“Quite a bit. First, he doesn't think the outbreak in Africa was a natural outbreak. He believes it was a biological attack.”
That did get a reaction from Viper. She looked at him sharply and her lips tightened.
“Does he think the antidote you took him is for the same strain?”
Michael shook his head, gratified he'd been able to finally shake that unflappable calm of hers.
“Worse. He thinks it could be for a more advanced strain,” he told her. “We’re not looking at a chemical attack, but a biological one.”
Viper was silent, her gaze now directed straight ahead, lost in thought. Michael turned his gaze out over the harbor as they walked. If it wasn't for the chilling nature of their conversation, it would be a perfect Spring morning by the water.
“And Sgt Curtis?” Viper finally broke the silence a few minutes later.
“Came down with the flu yesterday,” he answered, pulling his eyes away from the choppy waves. “It bought us a reprieve. POTUS is trying to reschedule the meet for Sunday.”
“That can't happen,” Viper told him firmly. “He can't go anywhere near the White House.”
Michael looked at her, surprised at the force behind her voice.
“I agree, but why so adamant?” he asked, stopping.
She stopped and looked at him.
“Where are those tr
avelers?” she answered with a question of her own.
“They didn't go through the border legally,” Michael replied, frowning. “There's no record of them crossing. However, my friend in Border Control said a group matching their description was seen crossing the Mississippi. They're heading East.”
“Where did they cross?”
“New Orleans.”
“He's sure?”
“As sure as he can be,” Michael shrugged. “He's got an agent trying to pick up their trail. He'll let me know if he hears anything.”
“You told him not to apprehend?” Viper asked sharply.
“Yes. Track and report only.” Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, how about you tell me what you know? I'm in this up to my neck and I'd like to know what kind of mess I'm in.”
Viper's eyes narrowed and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment. She was deciding how much to tell him, he thought, how much she was willing to say.
“You already know most of it,” she finally said, turning abruptly and continuing to walk along the path. “I'm sure if you apply yourself, you'll figure it out.”
“Humor me,” he muttered. “You have your job to do, and I get that, but my job is to protect the President of the United States. It would be a hell of a lot easier if I knew just where the threat was coming from.”
“I can't tell you that,” Viper responded. “What I can tell you is that you need to find a way to get Sgt Curtis tested by that genius of yours.”
Michael glanced at her, surprised despite himself.
“What?” he ejaculated. “Why?”
The glance he received from dark brown eyes made him feel like a little boy who just asked an incredibly stupid question.
“You don't really think he has the flu, do you?” Alina asked softly.
Michael sucked in his breath as the light bulb went on.
“You think he infected himself?” he demanded.
“I find it extremely convenient that he came down with the flu when he did,” she replied. “If you get him tested quickly, we can isolate the virus and see what we're dealing with.”
“We?” Michael repeated. “There is no we, not officially. How the hell am I supposed to get him to West Virginia? He's under evaluation and debriefing in Quantico. Even if I could, there's no guarantee the virus is even there or detectable.”
“I could get everything we need to know from him,” Viper murmured thoughtfully.
“No,” Michael said flatly. “Absolutely not.”
She glanced at him, amused.
“Quaker.”
“American,” he shot back. “We don't torture our own citizens.”
“So, you won't take him to your genius?”
“I don't see how I can,” Michael told her earnestly. “I can't get near him. None of us can.”
A glint flashed in Viper's eyes and Michael stifled a groan. He didn't like that look, or what it might mean.
“Tell me about John,” he said, changing the subject abruptly in an effort to draw her attention away from Sgt Curtis. She raised an eyebrow and he felt a flash of annoyance. “You weren't going to tell me he was almost killed by a bomb?”
“I didn't know the two of you were so close,” Alina replied dryly.
Michael shot her a look and she sighed.
“John stumbled across Blake's driving ring,” she relented, tucking her hands into her pockets. Michael noted the guarded body language, but remained silent. “He got a bomb in his wheel well for his trouble.”
“And the bomb?”
Alina glanced at him with a short laugh.
“You don't miss much, do you?” she murmured. “Not a domestic one and that's all I can tell you. He's in ICU.”
“How bad is he?” Michael asked after a moment.
“Bad enough,” Viper answered shortly. “Hopefully, what he found out warrants the punishment.”
“How will you know?”
“I have his laptop. Whatever information he gathered will be on it.”
“Lina,” Michael stopped and faced her. “Just...stop.”
He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to a stop. She looked at him with a slightly raised brow, her face carefully void of emotion.
“What do the doctors say about recovery?” he asked her gently. “Will he recover?””
“He got this far,” she answered, her eyes hooded. “That's a good sign. He was conscious the other day and I spoke to him. He was coherent, if not entirely rational. I'd say he has a better chance now than he did a few days ago. The damage was extensive and internal. There's no way of knowing what will happen until it happens.”
Michael stared at her, listening to the cold, clinical words being spoken, and shook his head.
“I know he means more to you than a laptop and clinical diagnosis,” he told her, not letting go of her hand. “You're not fooling anyone.”
“I'm not trying to,” Viper responded coldly. “John was in a horrific accident. His body was traumatized and traumatized bodies breakdown. Until he recovers, I have to assume that he won't.”
“Why?”
“Because that's the only way I can....oh, this is ridiculous.” Alina pulled her hand out of his and turned to continue walking. “John has nothing to do with anything.”
“I beg to differ,” Michael muttered, matching her stride for stride. “He seems to have an awful lot to do with everything. Your ex appears to have gotten himself embroiled in something way above his pay grade. Has he always been like this?”
Alina let out a choked laugh.
“Pretty much,” she said. “When he joined the FBI and became an investigator, I really wasn't surprised. It seemed a good fit.”
Michael rubbed the back of his head and inhaled deeply.
“What a damn mess,” he muttered. “Can you tell me anything about where you think these attacks will happen?”
“I won't know that until you find those travelers,” Viper answered, glancing at him. “I can only do so much from New Jersey.”
“You were in DC yesterday,” he pointed out, and was surprised when a rare smile crossed her face. “What were you doing there?” he asked, intrigued by that brief smile.
“Getting orders,” came the curt response as the mask slid back into place, the smile gone.
Michael looked at her thoughtfully but held his counsel.
“Who else knows about the antidote?” Viper asked after a few moments.
“Chris,” Michael replied, “and the genius, of course.”
“And your doctor friend in the hospital,” Alina added thoughtfully. “None of them would put a tail on you. You haven't discussed it over the phone with anyone?”
“No. Wait....yes! I called Chris when I left the hospital. I wasn't thinking.”
“That's when it happened,” Viper decided. “Someone was listening. Did you call his cell phone?”
“No, his office line.”
Viper nodded.
“If they're on your work lines, they've got an ear on all your landlines,” she told him. “You can't discuss this with anyone else. Everyone who knows about it is now a target.”
“Isn't that a little extreme?” Michael asked, glancing at her. “Targets? We're in the US, not the Middle East.”
“Were you followed out of DC?” she countered and Michael pressed his lips together. “Trust me. I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it,” Viper continued slowly, picking her words carefully. “Check in on your doctor friend and the genius regularly. If anything strange happens, anything at all, if they clear their throat differently, you tell me.”
Something in her tone made Michael pause and look down at her, his pulse quickening.
“You're serious,” he stated rather than asked. “You think they're being watched.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, when you made that first phone call, you started a ball rolling. They know we know now. We're on the clock, and so are they.”
“What the hell does that mean
?” Michael demanded, frustrated. “Woman, stop talking in riddles!”
“They've lost the element of surprise,” she explained patiently. “We know they're coming. They have two options. They can stick to the plan, or...”
Michael raised his eyebrows when she stopped and looked at her.
“Or what?”
“Or they can change it.”
Michael inhaled as understanding broke.
“And then we don't know what they'll do,” he finished.
“Or when,” Viper agreed. “I need those travelers.”
“I'll find them,” he promised.
Viper nodded and turned to start walking back the way they came.
“This is really happening, isn't it?” Michael asked a few minutes later, almost in awe. “We're really trying to catch an invisible enemy. We don't know where he is, where he's going, or when he's going to strike, but we have to stop him.”
“Welcome to my world, gunny. Try not to get yourself killed while you're here.”
Alina glanced at her watch with a frown when her phone began vibrating against her thigh. She reached one hand into her pocket to pull out her phone while she set a cup of coffee on the running board and unlocked the Jeep with the other.
“Yes?”
“It's me,” Stephanie greeted her. “I just came from the hospital.”
Alina climbed into the Jeep and settled the full cup of hot coffee into the cup holder. She was still in Maryland. She had waited until she was out of Baltimore before pulling into a Sheetz to refill the gas tank and get a cup of strong coffee.
“How is he?” she asked, starting the engine and picking up the coffee again.
“He was awake and talking. They're keeping him calm, but his blood pressure and numbers are looking good.”
“Did you tell him about his house?” Alina asked, sipping her coffee.
“No. The doctors don't want him distressed.” Stephanie paused, then cleared her throat. “His place is gone. The whole end of the building was destroyed.”
“Do they know what happened?”
“Not yet. The fire investigators are going through it now. They didn't get the fire completely out until about six this morning. Three condos were destroyed.”
Alina set the coffee back into the cup holder and switched to her Bluetooth before backing out of her parking spot.