D Carpenter - Infertile Grounds

Sarah looked from Seth to Chris, her mouth slightly agape and her brow furrowed. As she locked on Chris, her mouth closed and her forehead relaxed. He watched the compassion ooze from her as she morphed back into the cold Sarah Burns who wasn’t going to lose. She was on a mission and nothing would get in her way. She would succeed.

“Everybody out,” Sarah said, stepping toward Seth.

“What are you going to do?” Camilla asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sarah said as everyone scampered from the room.

Camilla twisted her mouth into an exaggerated frown, narrowed her eyes and glared at Sarah before turning and storming out. Seth pulled Chris off the table and pushed him into a chair, keeping his gun pointed at him. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. The video segment on the computer kept looping.

“Chris Foster,” Sarah said. “You’re one big pain in the ass.”

Seth scowled as he turned and shot the computer three times. The room was now completely silent.

“Now listen to me and listen to me good, Chris.” Seth said. “I’m not in the mood for games. You try to fuck around with me and you’re dead.”

“Okay,” Chris said.

“Do they know where we are?”

“How would I know?” Chris replied.

Seth cocked the pistol. “Don’t do it.”

“I have no idea what they know. They didn’t get anything from me.”

Seth and Sarah exchanged looks.

“Then where did you go?” Sarah asked.

“I was going to run, but like I told you, I didn’t. You’re doing the right thing. Think about it. This shit back in Boston.” He nodded toward the shattered notebook computer. “It started yesterday. I’ve been here for two days now. How could I even be remotely involved?”

Seth wasn’t going to believe anything Chris said. He was obviously itching to kill him, but Sarah seemed to be keeping her head. If Chris wanted to survive this, he needed her.

“Let’s be honest,” Chris said to Sarah. “If I had wanted to get the cops here, they’d have been here by now. I could have done it.”

He let this sink in for a minute before continuing, “This news story, it’s got cover up written all over it. The Feds are looking for us – for you – right now. No doubt about it and if I’d given you to them they could skip the embarrassing cover up step. Don’t you think they’d rather just say ‘We got the bad guys, everything’s cool’? But they’re not. They’re wasting time and energy because they don’t have answers – yet.”

Seth pulled Sarah to the side of the room, keeping Chris in the sights of his pistol. His logic was good, believable. Apparently, Seth didn’t want to believe anything that came out of his mouth, but Sarah, for whatever reason, did.

“So what do you think?” Sarah asked in a soft whisper that Chris could still hear in the small room.

“I think he’s a lot more involved than he says,” Seth replied quickly. “Ever since he showed up, everything’s gone sour.”

“He has been here while most of this has been going on,” she said. “If the FBI knew that we were here, we’d know it by now. One way or the other.”

Seth grudgingly agreed with her.

“We need to get out of here,” Seth said.

“Do you think?”

“Absolutely. Just to be safe.”

She leaned against the wall and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked tired. “Fine. But we need to stick to our core plan,” she said. “You get the Carriers off on their way and we’ll head to the rallying point. After that, we can do whatever we have to with him. We’ve just got to set it in motion first.”

Seth reluctantly agreed. Once the Carriers were loose, it didn’t matter what they did.

“Go get them ready. Try to calm them down,” she said looking at her watch. “A few hours and it is unstoppable.”

Arthur Kent had his men set up operations in a hangar at the airport. They didn’t have much time to put things together.

In one corner of the large building, a small group of men dressed in Army greens were rapidly constructing a portable containment unit. These men were from the Technical Escort Unit’s Rapid Response Team – the Army’s experts in biological and germ warfare. Since 9/11 they had received a tremendous influx of cash that had allowed them to become the best crew in the world for dealing with either chemical or biological warfare. Today, their objective was to isolate anyone exposed to Gen96. They had trained for years for a situation just like this one. As undesirable as this job was, these men and women were prepared.

Arthur gathered his agents for the pre-mission briefing and then opened it up for questions. The Q & A session went on for ten minutes before Arthur dismissed them and proceeded to walk over to the containment area.

“How’s it going?” He asked the Sergeant, as he surveyed the quarantine area.

“Good,” replied the man. He breathed heavily and sweat peppered his high-brow as he stopped working to talk to Arthur. “We’re almost all set – just a couple more things and this unit will be sealed.”

Arthur glanced at his watch. They had less than thirty minutes now. “Excellent,” he muttered as he turned and walked away.

He had his people stationed at various points around the relatively small airport. Some were dressed as baggage handlers, others as security people and some simply looked like people on business or vacation. Most were positioned at the loading and unloading zone. They had debated trying to grab the truck elsewhere before it got to the airport but there were simply too many roads and not enough agents to cover them all.

Ideally, he wanted to grab these people before they got out of their car and into the airport. Containing them in the vehicle was the goal. They were on the lookout for a new white Suburban carrying a lot of people.

He slid out of his business suit and into a skycap uniform. He would be there with his men for this. It had to go smooth. As he walked toward his station in front of the terminal, he slipped a small receiver into his ear.

“Kent,” he said softly. He and all of his men were wired. “Status check.”

Each checked in. A smile spread across his tired face as he listened to the responses. He ran a tight ship, and it showed in his people’s performance.

“Anytime now,” he said into his hidden microphone. “Be alert.”

He scanned the unloading zone. It was relatively quiet.

Sarah had always tried to go with her instincts, and today her gut was telling her that she should disappear, get the hell out of here before something really bad happened, but she couldn’t. This was the climax, the culmination of a lifetime’s work. Hell, she should be nervous. It was normal, considering what they were doing.

They were in the main lodge of an abandoned ski slope on Bald Mountain. This had been their designated rallying spot if they needed to abandon their primary location. Meet up here, regroup and then run, or, actually, get helicoptered out of here by the pilot who had been given a very large retainer to ensure he would be available on short notice and ready to go.

Seven buildings were scattered across the base area ranging in size from a small shack that housed pumping equipment to the main lodge that was a substantial two-story structure. Another lodge lurked at the top of the mountain at the end of the still-in-place chair lift. Their cars were tucked away in a maintenance building.

The buildings were approaching the point where they couldn’t be salvaged – doors hung off their hinges, windows were broken, and they reeked of mold and decay. The main lodge had been converted to a teenage party spot and was littered with graffiti, empty bottles and trash. An empty 144 count box of condoms was at her feet. “So this is how you pass time in Eureka,” she said as she kicked it across the floor and returned her gaze outside.