Gregg Hurwitz - Minutes to Burn

The soldiers disembarked, hardly taking note of them.

Cameron cleared her throat and fought to enunciate, but her words still came out a scratchy drawl. "Baby," she said. "Baby, look at me. Look at me."

A glimmer of recognition rippled through his eyes, and Cameron bit her lip, fighting not to sob from relief. He turned, his eyes finding hers. A thin line of drool dangled from the side of his mouth.

"That's right," she breathed. "Just look at me. Look at me."

He watched her, his eyes lit through with pain. Weakly, he raised a trembling hand. It hovered in the space between their stretchers, reaching for her. Despite the excruciating pain in her shoulder, she reached for him too. For an instant, there was nothing else-no noise, no pain, no hammering rotors overhead, just the feeling of her husband's hand in hers, his eyes on her face.

The door swung open, and she saw a montage of images in the night-Rex sprinting for the open helo door, the B1 bomber on the tar-mac ready for takeoff, Diego lying down before the plane, his wrists handcuffed around the forward landing gear. It seemed as if Rex and Diego were wearing only boxer shorts.

Cameron blinked lazily, trying to make sense of everything. The bomber should already have taken off; it should have been heading to Sangre de Dios by now, bearing the neutron bomb in its belly. Diego must have delayed the takeoff by handcuffing himself to the wheel. A UN soldier pinned down Diego's arms with his knees as another strug-gled to undo the cuffs with a key. They came free, and the soldiers dragged Diego away struggling and shouting. A button popped from the soldier's shirt, pattering on the tarmac. Ramoncito, wearing a dirty pair of underwear, ran forward from seemingly nowhere, pounding one of the soldiers' backs weakly with his fists.

The bomber rolled forward, engines revving for the takeoff.

Rex stumbled up to the door, shoving the corpsman aside. Water dripped from his hair. "The water samples are clean," he said. "All of them."

Cameron tried to smile but couldn't.

"Did you exterminate the carriers?" he asked.

Cameron fought against the haze. She raised a pale hand and flashed a weak thumbs-up. Behind them, the B1 roared into its takeoff, engines screaming, cutting through the night air like a scythe. Justin mumbled something, but it was lost in the noise.

Diego kicked free from the UN soldiers and ran for the helo, his sleek ponytail bouncing, Ramoncito at his heels. "Did you do it?" Diego screamed. One of his elbows was bleeding, scraped by the tarmac.

Rex pulled out his bottom lip and removed the small disk of the transmitter from where he'd wedged it against his gums. Holding it in the palm of his hand like a jewel, he activated it, telling the operator to patch him through to Samantha. His leg hammered up and down nerv-ously as the B1 grew smaller over his shoulder.

On the runway, the Minutes to Burn electronic billboard sat blank, awaiting another morning, another reading. Diego muttered Spanish curses under his breath as they waited. Finally, Samantha's voice clicked through.

"They're back," Rex said. "The virus reservoir was exterminated. We're clear."

The phone rustled against Samantha's shirt, but they could still make out her yelling through the window at Secretary Benneton.

The B1 faded in the night, the blinks on the wingtips almost out of sight. Diego watched it go, clearly fighting off panic.

"He just issued the order to abort," Samantha said.

Diego's face went limp with relief. He began to sob with a slow urgency. Ramoncito leaned against him, burying his face in his side.

"I want you, Dr. Rodriguez, the boy, and Cameron to come straight here for tests. The C-130 is standing by."

Rex turned. "Yes," he said. "I see it."

A corpsman jogged over from the C-130. "How many cots should we prepare?"

Rex looked inside the helo, noticing for the first time how empty it was.

When the corpsman asked again, his voice was full of dread. "How many cots?"

Cameron nodded weakly.

"Two," Rex said. When he spoke again, his voice was little more than a whisper. "Just two."

In the distance, the sound of the B1's engines shifted, rising to a sharper pitch. The plane banked high and hard, a broad sweeping arc in the night, and headed back for the airport. Diego fell to his knees, his hair wet and hanging across his eyes in the front.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

Reclined on carefully secured cots, Cameron and Justin were out cold before the C-130 even took off. The acceleration caused Rex to lean in the cargo seat, but he quickly adjusted. The plane climbed rapidly and circled the island before heading northeast toward Maryland.

Wanting one last look at the islands, Rex rose carefully and crossed to the small round window near the propellers. One of the corpsmen tending to Justin urged him to sit down, but Rex waved him off. He peered outside, then turned and smiled at Diego and Ramoncito. "Come here," he said. "You've got to see this."

Diego was careful to keep his balance as he joined Rex. He reached out a hand, helping Ramoncito navigate his way from the seat to the window. The boy's wonder at the plane was evident.

Down below, the black mass of Santa Cruz was visible on the dark waters. Above the southern edge of the island, right near the heart of Puerto Ayora, the air was lit with dozens of fireworks, the bright sparks coasting to the ground like settling embers.

Diego instinctively reached out, ruffling Ramoncito's hair. The three of them stood and watched the brilliant flashes of light until the island passed from view. Diego's eyes moistened when he looked down at the boy at his side.

"Happy New Year," he said.

1 Jan 08

Samantha was ready and waiting when an irritable male nurse arrived to unlock her from the slammer at nine in the morning. She stepped out into the hallway and took a deep breath, stretching her arms. It felt odd to be out of the confines of the room; it usually took her a few hours to adjust.

The nurse handed her that morning's test results-viral count: 0. Samantha rested her hands on his shoulders. "I'll always remember you," she said.

He did not smile.

She received a standing ovation when she passed the staff room and she clenched her hands above her head like a heavyweight champ. As she passed reception, one of the secretaries stood up, holding out a pink message slip. "NIH called this morning, girl," she said. "Heard you were available."

Without slowing her pace, Samantha snapped up the message slip, heading for the entrance.

Colonel Strickland caught her at the door, placing a firm hand on her elbow. Samantha had to tilt her head way back to look him in the face.

"Secretary Benneton was quite impressed with your efforts," he said. "He strongly recommended that we extend to you an offer to return as Chief of the DAD."

Samantha ran a hand through her messy brown hair, scratching her scalp. "You're not gonna much like my proposal for what you can do with your offer. Sir."

"I imagined you'd have…reservations." He raised a neatly-trimmed eyebrow. "Retiring?"

She laughed and pushed through the door. "Yeah," she called over her shoulder. "I thought I'd take up needlepoint."

Though she didn't see it, Colonel Douglas Strickland actually smiled.

"Hello there," Samantha said when Maricarmen picked up the phone. "Where are my children?"

"Iggy and Danny are watching cartoons," Maricarmen said. "And Kiera is pretending not to."

Samantha tapped the sat phone against her ear. A few lanes over, a car honked.

"What is that? Are you out?"

"Free at last."

"I should get the children. They'll be so excited."

"I'd rather surprise them in person. But I'm taking a quick trip to Hopkins first."