by Carr, Jack
“Reece! Reece!”
Haley’s screams brought him back to reality and he swerved to keep the Suburban on the road.
“Stop the car, Reece. Stop the car!” she shouted.
Reece looked in the still-intact rearview mirror and confirmed they were off the X and about two miles down the road from the ambush. He pulled to the side of the empty freeway and turned his attention to Ken, holding pressure on his throat and sliding a finger through the blood to plug the hole.
“This thing should have a trauma kit!” Reece yelled to Haley. “In the back. Find it!”
Haley threw open her door and ran to the back of the Suburban.
“It’s locked! Hit the unlock button!”
Shit!
Reece moved farther across his seat, pushing a finger from his left hand into the hole in Ken’s neck, his right hand slippery with blood, searching desperately for the button on the driver’s-side door to release the back lift gate.
“Got it!”
Reece heard a beep as the rear lift gate arched skyward, Haley reaching underneath to accelerate its power-assisted movement.
She appeared at the driver’s side door and Reece grabbed the handle to open it.
“I’ve got him,” Haley said, tracing Reece’s fingers to the hole in Ken’s neck and packing it with gauze from the kit.
As Reece felt Haley replace his fingers with gauze, he pushed himself back to the passenger seat and exited the vehicle, his eyes scanning in all directions for threats as he rushed to Haley’s side and helped ease Ken to the ground.
Haley continued to stuff Ken’s neck wound with gauze while Reece took a knee and ran his hands over Ken’s body looking for additional injuries, finding the entry wound in his shoulder and immediately applying pressure.
“Another entry wound. Left shoulder!” he shouted.
“Reece,” Haley said calmly.
“Do we have more gauze?”
“Reece,” she said again.
This time Reece picked his head up.
“He’s gone, Reece.”
Reece looked back to the shoulder wound, then to the throat, and then into the eyes.
Ken’s face was ashen. There was no rise or fall of the chest. No beating of the heart.
Reece looked at his hands, then to Haley. The left side of his face was covered with what was now drying blood. Ken’s blood.
He saw a young SEAL lying in the red Afghan dirt. The left side of his head was missing.
“Reece, he’s gone,” Haley said again, the compassion in her voice directed at the former SEAL commander.
Reece shook the Afghan memory from his mind.
Without another word, he stood, hoisted the young CIA analyst to his shoulder, and laid him in the back of the Suburban.
“Load up. We have work to do.”
CHAPTER 51
West Colfax, Denver, Colorado
REECE PULLED THE SUBURBAN to the curb a block from the target house.
The street was deserted, though this was not the type of neighborhood whose residents would have second homes in Aspen or Telluride. These families were sequestered to protect themselves and their loved ones from the unseen threat of a virus with an epicenter only miles away.
“Which one is it?” Haley asked.
“That one,” Reece said, pointing. “See the beige Crown Vic?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s an unmarked police car.”
“I don’t see the cop,” Haley observed.
“Neither do I. One car in the driveway,” Reece continued, looking at the dark late-model Jeep Cherokee backed up to the garage. “Can you tell what state those license plates are from?”
“New York, I think,” Haley said, squinting through her glasses.
“That’s what it looks like to me, too. Maybe a rental?” Reece said aloud.
“Could be.”
“Haley, I don’t know what to say. We would not be here without you.”
Reece paused.
“I need to tell you something that’s highly classified. It’s probably going to break into the news cycle soon anyway. I just need you to know why we’re doing this.”
“To find the source of this virus. I know why we’re are doing it.”
“That’s part of it but I’m talking consequences. Haley, if the president and Congress think that a virus with an eighty-five to ninety percent mortality rate is airborne, highly contagious, and confined to two U.S. cities, they, or I should say, the commander in chief, has an option at his disposal to contain the spread.”
“Not a vaccine. We talked about that. There isn’t one yet and you don’t miraculously create one by finding a monkey or index case like in the movies.”
“No, not a vaccine. A more drastic solution.”
“I don’t understand. There is likely evidence in this house to prove that the virus is aerosolized, that someone has to physically come into contact with the aerosolized virus. Those infected can only spread it the same way Ebola is spread, through direct blood or bodily fluid contact, not via respiratory pathways. Once we have that evidence, I get it to the CDC, and we let the American people know it’s not contagious in the way they’ve been led to believe. We continue to treat the infected but without the fear that a cough or sneeze will spread it. If we prove it’s a bioweapon and that it was aerosolized in an attack on Aurora and Richardson, we can move forward rationally.”
“We are on the clock, Haley, and so is the president. If we can’t prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is not being spread from person to person, the president is going to incinerate the containment zones to prevent the spread.”
“What? Just like I saw in Africa?”
“What choice does he have? It’s either two cities or 280 million people in the U.S. alone.”
“We wouldn’t destroy our own cities, would we?” Haley said in utter disbelief. “How do you even do that? Nuke our own country? The radiation would be devastating far beyond the borders of the containment zones.”
“Not a nuke. A fuel air explosive. The largest nonnuclear device in the arsenal.”
“How long have you known this?”
“Just before we questioned Shahram.”
Haley’s eyes glistened over, her breathing pronounced, her mind weighing the options and possibilities.
“I need to make one more call, and I’m going to show you how to use this thing,” Reece said, holding up the KryptAll mobile phone. “Then I’m going in that house. If anyone other than me comes out, tail them and call Vic. Help vector the cavalry in but stay back. You’ve gotten us to this point. No one knows more about what’s going on and what’s at stake than you do.”
Haley watched in silence as Reece showed her how to use the encrypted phone to dial the CIA.
“Vic, run this plate: Echo, Bravo, Foxtrot—Eight, Four, Seven, Three.”
“Stand by, Reece,” Vic said. Reece could hear him passing the information to an analyst in the background.
“Vic, we lost Ken Daniel. Shot by the protesters. I’m so sorry.”
Silence.
“Vic?”
“Shit. Reece, I…” Vic paused and took a breath. “SWAT is en route to your location. I’d ask you to stay outside and wait but I know you won’t, so I’ll refrain from wasting my breath.”
“What’s the status on the final option?”
“Just came from the director’s office. She bought us until the end of this cycle of darkness. Then he’s launching. Congress was informed via an emergency session. They are all in mandatory lockdown on Capitol Hill but the word will get out. They are all thinking about protecting their constituents and what happens if ninety percent of them die. This is going to leak, Reece. When it does there will be mass chaos and the president will have to speed up the timeline. If those trapped in Aurora and Richardson get wind of this, there will be a mass rush on the containment barriers and the virus will get out.”
Reece closed his eyes and whispered a quick pra
yer.
“Reece, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
Reece heard mumbling on the other end of the phone.
“Okay, that car is a rental. Enterprise. Rented by an Ali Ansari through a corporate account of a company called BioDine out of Switzerland. Doing a deep dive on Ansari now.”
Reece’s mind was spinning.
“Reece?”
“I’m here, Vic.”
“I don’t need to tell you what happens if Ali is the connection to this virus. If he has the answers that can save Aurora and Richardson.”
“I know, Vic. We need him alive.”
“Do what you can, Reece. I’ll keep the director up to date so she can relay this to the White House.”
“I’m giving Haley this phone so she can contact you if something happens to me. I’m going in.”
“Godspeed, Reece.”
He hung up and looked at Haley. Her revulsion at his actions with Shahram had been replaced with a newfound respect.
“Be careful, Reece. Remember, you are going into a bio lab, more accurately a virology lab, and if what Shahram told us is true, one of the deadliest pathogens in the history of the world was grown and converted into an aerosolized weapon in that house. Wear your gas mask. It might not be enough; we are dealing with too many variables and unknowns to be sure.”
“If I don’t come back…” Reece cleared his throat. “Um, Katie knows how I feel but, um, could you, uh…”
“I’ll tell her, Reece.”
Reece nodded, press-checked his SIG, and exited into the brisk afternoon air.
CHAPTER 52
REECE HELD HIS PISTOL by his right leg as he approached the target house.
To anyone watching from the windows of the surrounding homes, it must have been a peculiar sight, though perhaps less so after the events that had recently engulfed the nation. A man in a tan hazmat suit, with a gas mask in his left hand and pistol in his right, walking down the street in broad daylight.
Reece passed the Crown Vic and glanced inside. Empty.
He worked his way up the driveway, clearing the Cherokee as he passed.
He moved to the front door and attempted to turn the handle. Locked.
Fuck! This is the last time I go anywhere without my picks.
Reece was tempted to kick in the door, but if he had not yet given up the element of surprise, he wanted to maintain that tactical advantage as long as possible.
His mind briefly flashed back to a compound in the Hindu Kush, then a cartel drug house in Tijuana, tomahawk in hand…
Focus, Reece.
He backtracked down the front steps and to a side gate to a small backyard overgrown with weeds. He reached over the top and flipped up the latch on the other side.
An HVAC unit blew hot air out from a basement.
Reece moved to the corner of the house and took it wide, working the angles.
Tactical movement is a problem of angles.
The backyard was empty but for a rusty swing set and cracked concrete pad with an old Weber charcoal grill. A chain-link fence separated it from its neighbor. A sliding glass door allowed access to the home and Reece could see that it opened into a kitchen.
He crept to the side of the glass. As he’d been taught in sniper school all those years ago, his eyes scanned near to far through the glass. Lying on the floor between the kitchen and the hallway that led to the front door was a body.
Reece pushed on the sliding door. Locked.
The smell of smoke reached Reece’s nostrils at the same time he saw movement through the glass. The sixth sense worked both ways. A man in a level-four bio-containment suit and mask stepped over the body and turned toward Reece.
Reece’s brain registered the gun moving toward him. He ducked to the side of the sliding door as four rounds pierced the glass and impacted the stucco wall of the adjacent home.
Reece changed levels, taking a knee, and at an angle sent two 9mm projectiles toward the shadow that sprinted across the kitchen entrance. Standing, he made his decision.
The man inside was wearing a self-contained suit. Shit!
Reece donned his gas mask, grabbed the small Weber grill, and sent it careening through the sliding glass door, already damaged from six bullet holes. Reece entered right behind the grill, glass cascading to the floor. He held on to the open door that led to a small hallway. A quick glance told him the dead body was a police officer and that his gun was missing from his holster.
Reece looked to his right and noticed smoke coming from under a door.
Win the fight, Reece.
If this is Ali and you kill him, you have also killed half a million of your countrymen.
Fuck!
You have a terrorist in a barricaded position whom you have to capture alive.
You have no body armor, no helmet, no technical or tactical advantages.
You are fighting in a CBRN suit and mask with a pistol in a house on fire, possibly contaminated with a deadly pathogen, the fire destroying evidence you need to save the country.
Never pay attention to the odds.
Reece turned and worked his way back into the kitchen and to a closed door off the pantry.
Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.
The smoke is getting thicker, Reece. You can’t stay in here forever.
You’ll stay in here as long as it takes.
The door opened into a bedroom.
Clear.
Where are you, motherfucker?
Reece felt the heat building under the floor through his suit and shoes, the inside of his mask fogging up with condensation.
Think, Reece.
He moved back into a small hallway, weapon up, searching, scanning, attempting to override his instinct to shoot center mass, knowing he had to somehow take his prey alive.
Laundry room.
Another door.
Possibly to the garage?
Reece deliberately pushed the door open to find a garage stacked with boxes. He registered they were labeled with the names of companies in the scientific space.
Don’t rush to your death.
Make your enemy rush to his.
Reece looked at the wall and saw the button for the garage door. He hit the button and heard the door lurch upward on its tracks. Seeing sunlight leak into the dark garage, Reece moved back into the house toward the flames.
CHAPTER 53
THE INFLUX OF AIR from the broken sliding glass door and the open garage door had its intended effect. The fire had heat. It had fuel. And now it had more oxygen.
The old rotting wooden floor beneath his feet began to seep gray smoke, flames visible through the floorboards.
Reece positioned himself down the hallway, where he had a semi-clear field of view. He would be able to see if Ali made a break for the garage, front door, or backyard. The backyard was a confined space. The front door would take a moment to open. The path to the garage was the most likely avenue of egress.
The question was, who could stand the heat the longest?
Sweat dripped down Reece’s face. He could feel himself beginning to cook, feel the suit beginning to melt.
Come on, Ali. Come out.
Be still, Reece.
Patience.
You are a sniper.
Wait.
Movement.
There!
The man in a full level-four bio-containment suit rushed for the open garage door.
Resisting the urge to shoot, Reece sprinted down the hall.
Action is faster than reaction.
With the mask blocking much of his peripheral vision and in the heat and smoke of the fire, Reece hit his opponent from the side just as he was about to bolt through the laundry room door to freedom. Reece struck him just above the waist with his shoulder, taking him back into the smoldering hallway.
The impact snatched Ali’s breath away, his hand instinctually moving the gun toward the man who had taken him to the ground.
Ree
ce heard the bullet impact the ceiling and immediately pivoted to control the weapon hand.
A sharp pain in his shoulder told Reece that there was another weapon in play. Violently twisting the pistol from the terrorist’s grip, Reece smashed it into Ali’s mask, the self-contained unit absorbing much of the blow’s impact. Instinctually Reece trapped Ali’s other hand, which held a screwdriver.
Reece now had a gun in each hand that he couldn’t use, weapons that were making it hard to control the screwdriver in Ali’s left hand. Even when not trapped in a burning house with noxious gases filling the air, a screwdriver could be just as deadly as a blade. Still entangled on the ground, Reece shifted to control the left hand and felt Ali’s right reach up to grab the air filter on his mask in an attempt to rip it from his head.
Gas. Fire. Virus. Panic.
Reece pulled back and jumped to his feet, pulling his mask from Ali’s grasp. He threw Ali’s gun down the hall behind him and brought his gun up.
“Stay down, motherfucker. Don’t move!”
Ali looked up at the man pointing the pistol at him.
Shit, he knows I can’t shoot him. He’s the connection.
Ali got to his feet, screwdriver still in hand.
Flames leapt from the door at the far end of the hall.
Reece threw the SIG down the hallway behind them and charged forward to take the fight to his enemy. Two steps into his sprint, the rotting floor gave way beneath him and his left leg broke through the floor, pulling him toward the fire below.
CHAPTER 54
ARRESTED IN PLACE, REECE regained his balance in time to parry the attack by his adversary, blocking the screwdriver with his left arm and sending Ali into the hallway wall.
Attempting to yank his foot from the hole, seeing flames through the disintegrating floor beneath him, he saw Ali recognize that he was trapped. The terrorist lurched toward the pistols at the end of the hall.
No fucking way, Ali.
With his foot still trapped in the hole, Reece fell backward and grabbed Ali’s foot with his left hand, tripping him to the ground. Reece wrapped the leg and pulled the lighter man back toward him.