Tom Clancy - Rainbow Six

"But how do you distribute it?"

"Well, you see, John has a company that also works for him. Global Security-the boss man's a guy named Henriksen."

"Ah, yes, I know him. He was in your FBI."

"Oh? I knew he was a cop, but not a fed. Anyway, they got the consulting contract withthe Aussies for the Olympics, and one of Bill's people will be spreading the Shiva. Something to do with the air-conditioning system at the stadium, they tell me. They're going to spread it on the last day, see, and the closing ceremonies. The next day everyone flies home, and then, like, thousands of people all take the bug home with them."

"But what protects us?"

"You got a shot when you came here, right?"

"Yes, Killgore said it was a booster for something."

"Oh, it was, Dmitriy. It's a booster, all right. It's the vaccine that protects you against Shiva. I got it, too. That's the `B' vaccine, pal. There's another one, they tell me, the `A' vaccine, but that one's not the one you want to get." Hunnicutt explained on.

"How do you know all this?" Popov asked.

"Well, you see, in case people figure this out, I'm one of the guys who helped set up the perimeter security System here. So, they told me why the Project needs perimeter security. It's pretty serious shit, man. If anyone were to find out about what was done, hell, they might even nuke us, y'know?" Foster pointed out with a grin. "Not many people really understand about saving the planet. I mean, we do this now, or in about twenty years, hell, everything and everybody dies. Not just the people. The animals, too. We can't let that happen, can we?"

"I see your point. Yes, that does make sense," Dmitriy Arkadeyevich agreed, without choking on his words.

Hunnicutt nodded with some satisfaction. "I figured you'd get it, man. So, those terrorist things you got started, well, they were very pretty important. Without getting everybody all hot and bothered about international terrorism, Bill Hendriksen might not have got his people in place to do their little job. So," Hunnicutt said as he fished a cigar out of his pocket, "thanks, Dmitriy. You were really an important part for this here Project."

"Thank you, Foster," Popov responded. Is this possible? he wondered. "How certain are you that this will work?"

"It oughta work. I asked that question, too. They let me in on some of the planning, 'cuz I'm a scientist-I was a pretty good geologist once, trust me. I know a lot of stuff. The disease is a real mother. The real key to that was the genetic engineering done on the original Ebola. Hell, you remember how scary that was a year and a half ago, right?"Popov nodded. "Oh, yes. I was in Russia then, and it was very frightening indeed." Even more frightening had been the response American president, he reminded himself.

"Well, they-the real Project scientists-learned a lot from that. The key to this is the `A' vaccine. The original outbreak may kill a few million people, but that's mainly psychological. The vaccine that Horizon's going to market is a live-virus vaccine, like the Sabin polio vaccine. But they've tuned it, like. It doesn't stop Shiva, man. It spreads Shiva. Takes a month to six weeks for the symptoms to show. They proved that in the lab."

"How?"

"Well, Kirk was part of that. He kidnapped some folks off the street, and they tested the Shiva and the vaccines on them. Everything worked, even the first-phase delivery system that's set up to use in Sydney."

"It is a big thing, to change the face of the world." Popov thought aloud, looking north to where the interstate highway was.

"Gotta be done, man. If we don't-well, you can kiss all this good-bye, Dmitriy. I can't let that happen."

"It's a terrible thing to do, but I seethe logic of your position. Brightling is a genius, to see this, to find a way, of solving the problem, and then to have the courage to act." Popov hoped his voice wasn't too patronizing, but this man Hunnicutt was a technocrat, not one who understood people.

"Yep," Hunnicutt said around the cigar, as he lit it with a kitchen match. He blew the match out, then held it until it was cold before letting it fall to the ground, lest it start a prairie fire. "Brilliant scientist, and he gets it, you know? Thank God, he has the resources to make all this happen. Setting all this up must have cost near onto a billion dollars-hell, just this place, not counting the one in Brazil."

"Brazil?"

"There's a smaller version of the complex down there, somewhere west of Manaus, I think. I never been there. The rain forest doesn't interest me that much. I'm an open country sort of guy," Hunnicutt explained. "Now, the African veldt, the plains there, that's something else. Well, I guess I'll get to see it, and hunt it."

"Yes, I would like to see that, to see the wildlife, how it lives and thrives in the sun," Popov agreed, coming to his own decision."Yep. Gonna get me a lion or two there with my H amp;H.375." Hunnicutt clucked and got Jeremiah to go faster, an easy canter that Popov tried to duplicate. He'd done this pace before, but now he found that he had trouble synchronizing with Buttermilk's rather easy motions. He had to switch his mind back into his body to make that happen, but he managed it, catching up with the hunter.

"So, you will transform this country to the Old West, eh?" The interstate was about two miles off. The trucks were passing by swiftly, their trailers lit in amber lights. There would be intercity buses, too, similarly lit, he hoped.

"That's one of the things we're going to do."

"And you'll carry your pistol everywhere?"

"Revolver, Dmitriy," Foster corrected. "But, yeah. I'll be like the guys I've read about, living out here in harmony with nature. Maybe find me a woman who thinks like I do, maybe build me a nice cabin in the mountains, like Jeremiah Johnson did-but no Crow Indians to worry me there," he added with a chuckle.

"Foster?"

He turned. "Yeah?"

"Your pistol, may I hold it?" the Russian asked, praying for the correct response.

He got it. "Sure." He drew it and passed it across, muzzle up for safety.

Popov felt the weight and the balance. "It is loaded?"

"Nothing much more useless than a handgun that ain't loaded. Hell, you want to shoot it? Just cock the hammer back and let go, but you want to make sure your horse is reined in tight, okay? Jeremiah here's used to the noise. That mare might not be."

"I see." Popov took the reins in his left hand to keep Buttermilk in check. Next he extended his right hand and cocked the hammer on the Colt, heard the distinctive triple click of this particular type of revolver, and took aim at a wooden surveyor's stake and pulled the trigger. It broke cleanly at about five pounds.

Buttermilk jumped slightly with the noise, so close to her sensitive ears, but the horse didn't react all that badly. And the bullet, Popov saw, grazed the two-inch stake, six meters or so away. So, he still knew how to shoot.

"Nice, isn't it?" Hunnicutt asked. "If you ask me, the SingleAction Army's got the best balance of any handgun ever made."

"Yes," Popov agreed, "it is very nice." Then he turned. Foster Hunnicutt was seated on his stallion, Jeremiah, not three meters away. That made it easy. The former KGB officer cocked the hammer again, turned and aimed right at the center of his chest, and pulled the trigger before the hunter could even be surprised by the action. His target's eyes widened, either from his unbelieving recognition of the impossible thing that was happening or from the impact of the heavy bullet, but what it was didn't matter. The bullet went straight through his heart. The body of the hunter stayed erect in the saddle for a few seconds, the eyes still wide with shock, then it fell lifelessly backward away from Popov and onto the grassland.

Dmitriy dismounted and took the three steps to the body to make sure that Hunnicutt was dead. Then he unsaddled Jeremiah, who took the death of his owner phlegmatically, and removed the bridle, too, surprised that the animal didn't bite him for what he'd just done, but a horse wasn't a dog. With that done, he smacked the stallion heavily on the rump, and it trotted off for fifty meters or so, then stopped and started grazing.