John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

“I can’t believe this!” Sweezea groaned. “We’re all gonna die, but all of the scumbag bureaucrats live to start a new world.”

“Bureaucrats and leaders,” responded Faulk, “as well as the top people in commerce and industry. And we are realistic enough to realize that we’ll need a military, so some of those who have received the vaccine are the cream of the crop of the armed forces.”

Crabill thumped Sweezea on the arm. “Cream of the crop! That’s code for officers only. I’ll bet there’s not a ‘joe’ in the bunch.”

“I’ll be a …”

“Enough of this!” Elias cut Sweezea off. “I think we have the picture. The elites, picked by the elites, got the shot, and the rest of us can all just die. Faulk, where’s this vaccine that you’re offering to us to save your own skin? I can’t believe you carry around a few spare doses of the stuff.”

“I do have it. It’s out in the transport.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I do, Elias.” Wilson’s voice was calm. “With what he is describing as being right around the proverbial corner, I can think of no more valuable currency than several doses of the vaccine. It makes sense that someone like Faulk would make sure he had a good supply. From now until midnight, and probably in the few succeeding hours after the release, they would be worth far more than their weight in gold.”

Elias paused. What Wilson said made sense. And if they had a chance of surviving, they had to take it. He looked at Leah. “What do you think?”

She had been listening quietly, as Crabill finished dressing her wound. “Worth a try.”

Elias poked Faulk with the barrel of the rifle. “Get up. Let’s go.”

Faulk started to rise, when a voice shouted, “NO!”

Everyone whirled around to see Rudy Kreitzmann leaning against the shattered corner and holding Elias’ 9mm.

Wilson faced him squarely. “Rudy, what are you doing?”

His eyes still clouded, his words slurred, Kreitzmann stammered, “You…you can’t let him get…get away.”

Wilson took a step closer. “We’re not, Rudy. We’re going to escort him outside, to his truck. We need the vaccines he has there.”

The scientist was obviously not thinking clearly. All he knew was that the man getting up from the floor was the same man who had used him as a patsy, infiltrated his staff, and exploited his subjects. His hand shaking, he raised the pistol and aimed it at Faulk.

Then Wilson, surprising everyone, stepped in front of him and grabbed the pistol, looking Kreitzmann in the eyes. “Rudy, this isn’t you. You are a scientist, not a killer.”

Kreitzmann, still feebly gripping the butt of the Beretta, stared at his colleague, his eyes clearing somewhat. The barrel was pointing directly at Wilson’s abdomen, and Elias tensed, waiting for the sound of a gunshot. With a final, regretful glance at Faulk, Kreitzmann said, “You’re right,” and released his grip on the weapon. Wilson, without turning away from him, reached behind himself and handed the gun to Elias.

For the first time they noticed that Kreitzmann was bleeding from his side.

“He must have caught a shot out in the hallway,” Elias shouted. “He needs some help.”

“Guess I’m the medic today,” Crabill remarked sardonically and, with his first-aid gear tucked under his arm, walked Kreitzmann off to the side, slowly lowering him down to a lying position.

They all heard the rapid approach of footsteps, and everyone but Leah, who was focused on Faulk, and Wilson, who was unarmed, spun in the direction, guns pointed down the hallway as a man came around the corner at a full run.

“Don’t shoot,” Sweezea barked. “He’s one of mine.”

They all lowered their weapons as the man approached.

“Hutson, what’d you find?”

“You were right, Sergeant. The entrance is trash. Completely demolished.”

Sheldon Kennerley was pacing in front of the glass wall of the exposure tank, shouting into his phone, when Bonnie Schwartz hurriedly entered the room. It was clear by her expression that she wanted to talk to him and that it was urgent. Covering the mouthpiece with his hand, he asked, “What is it?”

Intimidated by his tone, she stuttered, “It’s… it’s the TV. You’d better come…you need to come see this.”

He was tempted to ask her to simply tell him what was wrong, but something about the look on her face made him realize that he needed to follow her. “I’ll call you back! Round up the subjects and get them here now!”

Without a word to Bonnie, he rushed past her to the outer lobby where there was a television. As he arrived, he could see that several of the staff were crowded around the set, watching silently. On the screen was a very still tableau. It was of the front yard of a house he did not recognize. There were numerous police cars and ambulances parked haphazardly on the street and in the yard but, other than the flashing lights, there was no movement. He began to ask what was wrong, then thought better of it and listened to the commentary coming out of the speakers.

“At this point we have very few details. We can tell you that the police and fire departments have cordoned off the area in a ten-block radius. From one source, we learned that the Center for Disease Control has been notified, and all citizens are strongly urged to avoid this section of the city.

“To recap what we know so far, at approximately 9:30 this morning, a man who lives on this same block, concerned about his neighbor, called 9-1-1. Police and an ambulance arrived within minutes and, after receiving no response at the door, the officers looked through a window and observed the resident lying, apparently unconscious, on the floor. They broke down the front door and entered.

“That is where the details become somewhat sketchy. According to a police information officer, one of the paramedics made a distress call, asking for additional medical support. The call was abruptly ended before the dispatcher could get details as to what had happened on the scene.

“It was at that point the decision was made to dispatch a bio-hazard team. Due to a variety of factors associated with mobilizing one of these specialized units, they did not arrive until more than an hour after the call. By that time, the police and paramedic personnel were seriously ill, with one having died on the scene. The stricken officers and paramedics were transported to a quarantine unit at Georgetown University Hospital. It is my understanding that all of them are now deceased. The entire neighborhood surrounding this house has been quarantined. Walter Reed Hospital has sent its own team to assist. All adjacent residents have been evacuated to a sequestered area for monitoring and possible treatment, if needed.”

Kennerley stared at the screen, unable to form any words. Bonnie, standing next to him, turned and said, “That house…that’s Yolanda’s.”

Sweezea, Hutson, Crabill, Tillie, Elias, and Wilson, working with tools from the gang box, had been toiling for an hour in an attempt to clear the tangled heap of steel that was blocking the exit door, cutting the struts into small pieces with a reciprocating saw and stacking the sections inside. Faulk was handcuffed to a riser in the corner of the hallway and had been quiet during the work. Twice, they thought they might be making progress, only to have more material crash down to fill the gap they had created.

Despite the frigid winds penetrating through the obstruction, Elias was soaked with sweat, and his hands and arms were covered with cuts from the sharp edges of the debris. He turned to Tillie. “You told me before that you knew another way out.”