Jonathan Maberry - Patient Zero

I opened my mouth to reply in kind, but Grace stepped between us and took Brierly by the elbow and led him out of earshot of everyone in the room. They stood with heads bowed together for three minutes and I could see his body becoming more rigid with each passing second. Then he gave a nod and moved toward the door, walking as if his boxers were filled with jagged glass.

“What’d you tell him?” I asked when she rejoined me.

“The truth,” she said. “Or at least as much of it as he needs to know.”

“He didn’t look happy about it.”

“Are you?”

“Point taken.”

“He said he’ll quietly increase the circle of protection around the First Lady. He has a number of agents in plainclothes who can be seeded into the crowd at the ceremony.”

“Good. The more the merrier.”

Another agent entered the chamber a minute later and hurried over to us, introducing himself as Colby, Brierly’s number two. “I’ve been asked to brief you on the on-site security.” He led us to a STAFF ONLY door hidden behind a screen on which the Declaration of Independence was printed. “If we need to remove the First Lady in the event of a crisis, agents will escort her through here and then lock the door behind them. There are offices and other rooms back there and we have a designated secure spot as well as escape routes.”

After he left I dialed the cell number for Robert Howell Lee and, after verifying that the line was secure, identified myself and read the note from the President that ordered everyone to offer complete and immediate assistance to my investigation. He answered that with a long silence and I could imagine him trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I hadn’t told him. I broke into the silence and asked him if he could meet us in the bell chamber.

“What… you mean now ?” he demanded. “Are you out of your mind, Captain? Do you have any idea what is going on? We have—”

“We can grab a few minutes after the speeches,” I interrupted. “This won’t take long.”

“Can you at least tell me what the hell this is about?”

Grace had returned and she and Rudy were leaning close to eavesdrop on the call. She mouthed the words: “Play the card, Joe.”

So I did. “Yes, sir, we are here representing the Department of Military Sciences.” I let him digest that. Whether he was guilty or innocent it was a hell of a bomb to drop and he had to react.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. There was another pause. “All right, give me a few minutes. I’m on the other side of Independence Mall in the communications center and I have to get someone to cover for me.” He disconnected.

I turned to Rudy. “Well? Did he sound spooked to you?”

He shrugged. “He sounded harried.”

Grace nodded. “Let’s face it; we picked a bloody stupid time to come up here.”

“Can’t catch someone off guard if they have time to prepare,” Rudy said.

She shrugged and I looked over at my team. Ollie’s face was pure hostility and had been ever since he saw that we were there to interview the man who had sent him to the DMS. He eyed me with that cold shooter’s squint and I gave it right back to him. Skip saw the look passing between us and frowned; and he took a half-step back from Ollie as if afraid to get in the way of something. I noticed that Top, Bunny, and Gus were casually looking from them to me, but nobody said anything.

The door behind us opened and a big man entered. He was dressed in the standard navy blue and red tie of the Service. He was every bit as big as Bunny, with thick shoulders, flaming red hair, and an Irish snub nose.

“Who are you?” Dietrich asked sharply, moving to intercept him.

“Special Agent Michael O’Brien,” the man said in surprise, holding out his ID. He held a metal case in the other hand. “I was detailed to check the room before the First Lady’s party moves in here for the speeches.”

Gus checked the ID and called it in while he inspected the metal case. It held the standard electronic scanners and nitrate sniffers that would show if anyone had planted bugs or bombs in the room. Dietrich nodded his approval and handed back the ID.

Dietrich closed his phone and sketched a salute to the agent. “Okay, O’Brien… the room’s yours.”

Gault / Outside the Bunker / July 4

THE ROVER SAT in the lee of a stand of palm trees about a hundred yards from the tent that hid the entrance to Amirah’s bunker.

“Now what, sir?” asked the driver. “Is your contact meeting you here?”

“In a way,” Gault said. “Toys? Would you oblige?”

Without a word Toys drew his pistol and shot the driver in the back of the head. The impact knocked the man against the steering wheel and splashed the window with bright blood.

“Sorry, old chap,” Gault said distractedly.

Toys’s face was stone as he removed the clip and replaced the round. He didn’t want to come up a bullet short at some crucial moment. He looked at his watch. “Zeller’s team is still twenty minutes out. Where do you want to wait for him? I don’t like being this exposed.”

Before Gault could answer the sat phone rang and Toys put it on speaker. For a moment Gault’s heart lifted, hoping that it was Amirah, but then the American’s voice barked at them.

“Line?”

“Clear, my friend. How are things going?”

The American’s voice was shaky. “God… they’re on to me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The DMS… they’ve sent agents here to interview me.”

“Christ! How did that happen?”

“I don’t know… Sebastian, you have to do something.”

Gault almost laughed. “What is it exactly you expect me to do? I’m half a world away.”

“I have to get out. We haven’t been able to find El Mujahid. He could be anywhere! And these agents are right here… now .”

“You haven’t found him?” Gault was stunned. “Listen to me, we’re paying you too much money for you to let something this important slip through your hands. Fix this!”

“How? The only way I can bring more assets to bear on this would be to go to my own superiors, and that would land me in federal prison for the rest of my life!”

“Well, I daresay that getting arrested is going to be the least of your problems, wouldn’t you think?” Gault’s voice was cold.

“What should I do?”

“Make whatever calls you have to make to let the proper authorities know about the threat. Call the DMS. Tell them that you received an anonymous tip, something like that. Tell them that there is a biological threat. Just for God’s sake don’t mention me, and try not to implicate yourself. Maybe they can stop the Fighter before he can open the bloody gates of hell. Then get as far away as you can. An island somewhere. If this thing is released then an island is the only chance you’ll have.”

“God…”

“I’m about to clear up my end of things. I suggest you do the same. Be a hero. Save the day.”

The American mumbled something that Gault thought was a Hail Mary, and then the line went dead.

“Bloody hell,” he said, staring out through the bloodstained windshield. “The man’s a coward and a fool.”

“You get what you pay for,” Toys said with an irritated sigh. He looked at his watch. “There’s still sixteen minutes before Zeller’s team reaches the Bunker. We can’t just sit here.”

“No,” agreed Gault. They got out of the vehicle and drew their pistols. Nothing moved, so they moved quickly and quietly toward the line of tents by the mountain wall. The camp appeared to be deserted, but as they darted from the shelter of one tent to another they found four corpses lying in a row, their hands and ankles bound, their throats cut. Their blood had soaked into the desert sand and flies buzzed around them. They were all men on Gault’s payroll.