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Authors: Natasza Waters

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Mace jerked his head toward the living room. Kayla had seen
the luggage as well. “He’s hiding.”

Ariana
nodded,
her eyes dull with
worry. Kayla reached across the table and gripped her hand. “Please take us to
him. He is our only chance to stop this.”

“Christopher.
Maddy.
We’re going to
see Grandpa, get your bags.” The kids ran from the room. “Cliff isn’t far. We
have friends on the other side of the lake.”

“We’ll follow you,” Kayla said, and she and Mace squeezed
each other’s hands under the table.

“They’ll be watching this house,” Mace said under his
breath. “We’ve got to come up with a decoy.”

“Roger that, thinking the same thing.”
She moved to the window and looked out over the lake. “There might be one way.”
Mace stood behind her and gave her a big hug, gazing over her shoulder.

“Congratulations by the way,” he said, and kissed the top of
her head.

She shifted and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“A little girl.
I always wanted a little girl.”

Mace smiled down at her. “Are you stopping at two?”

She chuckled. “Thane wants four, but we’ll see how he does
with his daughter. I think she’ll be turning him inside out with worry and love
the second she’s born. He’ll protect Sloane ferociously.”

“No doubt there.”

“I talked to Nina just before you picked me up. She sounds
good. Not exactly the
best way to find out you’re
going to be a father.”

A beaming smile spread across Mace’s handsome face. “My
family is more important than riding high on a mission. We’ve been talking
about making a change. If I can get a transfer, we’re considering moving to
Hawaii. We want the kids to grow up together.”

Kayla stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Everything
has changed so much in the last couple of years. Until now, it was all for the
better.”

“It still is, Kayla.” Mace gave her a quick squeeze. “Let’s
find Bjornson and get the antiserum to Lumin.”

“Tony must be going out of his mind with worry.”

“She’s three hours over now. She must be in bad shape.
Tinman lost contact with her. Her phone died.”

“When?”

Mace darted a look at her.
“Midnight.
You had enough to deal with.”

“Mace.”
She gave him a glare.
“There are more people than me in Base Command. All hands are on deck.” She
unlocked her phone and dialed the base. Barry answered and she gave him
instructions. When she hung up, Ariana appeared with the kids, and she
explained the plan.

The wind was warm as it brushed her face. At high speed, she
and Ariana crossed the lake in their boat. Mace balked at the idea, but he had
the kids and was driving around to meet them. If someone was following, they
would follow Mace instead of her and Ariana.

“That dock over there,” she shouted and pointed toward the
west.

Kayla nodded and slowed the craft until it was gently
drifting a few feet off the dock. She took a quick look at the rise of green
lawn toward the back of the house. Dr. Bjornson had to be watching. Hopefully
he’d see his wife and present himself. She secured the ropes to the cleats and
they walked up the steps cut into the hillside. Ariana wore a worried
expression.

“Is something wrong?” Kayla asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ariana said, walking beside her as they
approached the house.

The patio door was open, and Kayla saw something that twisted
her nerves into a tight ‘be wary’ ball.

“Oh, no,” Ariana cried, and began to run toward the house.

Kayla caught her. “Stay here. I’ll go.” She ran the rest of
the way, but cautiously. An arm was draped out the door, and she saw a grey
head of hair on the frame. “Dr. Bjornson!” She pushed open the patio door and
knelt beside him, listening for other sounds in the house. Clutching his left
wrist she felt for a pulse.
Weak.
“Dr. Bjornson, can
you hear me?” she said, checking the rest of him. She rolled him, and saw the
pool of blood hidden beneath him. A gunshot wound in his right side bled
freely.

“Cliff, Cliff.” Ariana knelt beside him and took his hand.

Dr. Bjornson’s lids flickered as he came to. “You’re going
to be okay, sir.” Kayla called an ambulance. There was a lot of blood loss.
“Ariana, I need to stop the flow. Can you find me a clean towel?”

“They didn’t get it,” he muttered.

“Kayla,” Ariana cried out.

She ran for the living room. A man lay face down on the
carpet. No movement. Mace came through the front door. “Stop the kids from
coming in here, Mace. Ariana, we need you to keep the children outside.” Kayla
toed the weapon away, and Mace picked it up and checked him.

“He’s dead.”

She ran back to Dr. Bjornson, grabbing a cloth draped over
the handle of the wall oven on her way. She knelt down and put pressure on the
wound, making the doctor flinch.
“Sorry, sir.
The
ambulance is on its way. Where’s the weapon you shot him with?” Before he
answered, she saw it underneath the kitchen table. “I know you’re in a lot of
pain, sir, but I have to find the vaccine to the second virus. Dafoe has
released the new strain.”

Dr. Bjornson’s eyes opened a smidge. “Who are you?”

“I’m Kayla Austen. I work with the United States Navy. A
friend was with Dr. Carmichael when he died. He told her about the virus and
Dafoe, and you. We’ve been trying to find you. Dafoe has infected three towns.
He put the second strain of the virus in the water. How long will it live if it
gets into the underground water systems?”

Bjornson groaned as he stuffed his fingers into his pocket.
He pulled out a piece of paper, and with a shaking, bloody hand, held it out.
“It doesn’t mutate, but it can live in water or air. It won’t die off.”

Kayla took the paper and read the numbers on it. “We thought
it mutated after thirty-six hours.”

“Didn’t work,” he whispered.

“What is this?” she asked, looking at the paper.

“Where I hid the vaccine.
I didn’t
believe Dafoe would…” Bjornson’s eyes closed for a second, and his breathing
was becoming shallower. “I didn’t think he’d do it without the serum. I found
it.” He coughed. “I created the vaccine for Ebola.”

“Where is it?”

“Center—”

Oh shit. “Doc, come on, what center? Please.” Mace hunkered
down across from her. “What center?” she said loudly.

“Center for Virus…” Bjornson exhaled, and his hand went
limp.

Mace felt for a pulse and shook his head.


Jeezus
,” she yelled and jumped to
her feet.
“Another fucking piece of the puzzle.
Now we
have to run this down. We don’t have enough time.”

“Easy, Snow White,” Mace said grabbing her. “As soon as the
ambulance gets here we’ll go.”

“Go where?”

“Center for Virus Research.
It’s at
the University of California, Irvine campus.”

“You know this place?” Hope sprouted a leaf.

“Sure. One of my sisters went there.”

“How far away is it?”

“About an hour and a half.”

“Can we get a
helo
to fly us there
faster?”

Mace gave her a raised brow. “You’re married to the
Commander of the West Coast Chain, and trying to stop a national disaster. What
do you think?”

She blew out a deep breath. “I’ll go and tell Mrs. Bjornson
the bad news.”

He nodded and gave her a weak smile. “We’ll make it. We have
to.”

Within ten minutes, she and Mace were in the
helo
heading for the university. “Pilot, can you connect me
with Base Command?”

“Affirmative, Snow White.”

“Gord, I need you to find the man in charge of the Center
for Virus Research at University of California in Irvine,” she said without a
greeting when he came on the radio. “We need him waiting for us. I’m bringing
him something, and we need his help to decipher it. Don’t give him all the
details. Just make sure he’s waiting.”

“Good copy, Snow White.
Base Command,
out.”

Kayla rested her head on Mace’s shoulder.

“You tired?” he asked.

“Hell, yeah.
I don’t know the last
time I had sleep.”

“That’s not good for an expectant mother.”

“She’ll be all right.” Rubbing her stomach, she said,
“Sloane is going to be an independent, strong-willed, free-thinking woman.”

Mace chuckled into the
commset
.
“Just like her mom.”

Mace gripped her hand and held it for the twenty-minute
flight. The pilot sat the chopper down in a football field. The practicing
football team scattered as the Nighthawk descended. Mace helped her out and
they ran toward a guy with a clipboard and a whistle.

“Can you show us where the Virus Research Center is?” Mace
said to the balding man in his mid-forties who stared at them with wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah, sure.
Follow me.”

“Run,” Mace instructed, and they all put it into a gallop.

 
 
 

Chapter Fourteen

 
 

Tony hunched in the shade of a transport truck, evading the
blistering sun. He’d run six separate searches for Lumin during the night.
She’d been infected around sixteen hundred hours yesterday. He placed his head
in his hands and willed himself not to give way to his dwindling hope. She
wasn’t dead. He repeated it like a mantra, but too many missions and hard
knocks on reality’s door said she was. When her phone cut off last night, he
felt every last cell of his body go into alarm. Was she trying to find them?
She didn’t want to infect anyone or take the chance of approaching the police
for help. Why hadn’t she found another phone?
he
asked
himself, but he knew why. She physically couldn’t and that tore him to pieces.

“Bale!”
Captain Cobbs strode toward
him with a sat phone in hand. “Base Command on the line,” he said.

“Bale,” Tony answered.

“Petty Officer Bale,
it’s
Barry.”

“Go ahead, Barry.”

“Tinman, Kayla asked me to keep harassing the police
departments in your surrounding area. I think I have something.”

His heart scrambled to hitch itself to hope. “Go ahead.”

“A small department a few miles from the Kaibab National
Recreation Area just received a report of a woman, possibly suicidal. They said
she appeared to be sick.”

“Why suicidal?”

“She had a seat full of pill bottles beside her.”

Tony closed his eyes. “It’s Lumin. Thanks, Barry.” He
listened while Barry shared the location and directions. “We’ve found her,” he
said to Captain Cobbs as he hung up.

“Chopper is on standby for you.” He lowered a harsh gaze on
him. “Don’t lose your head, Bale, even if you’ve lost your heart. Want
company?” Cobbs asked.

“Negative, sir.”

Tony ran for the chopper.

“Another recon?” the pilot asked as he jumped into the
aircraft.

“Eastern edge of the Kaibab Recreation Area.
Let’s go.”

The hot desert air blasted through the chopper like a well-
stoked
furnace. His heart hammered in his chest. If the
police forced her out of the car, they’d all have to be quarantined. Within a
few minutes the Black Hawk flew over the sparsely treed area. Tony couldn’t
miss it, but he had at three in the morning. He’d flown over this area, but
hadn’t spotted her car hidden by the trees. Fuck, why hadn’t he looked closer?
Three police cars were parked in a campsite surrounding the vehicle Lumin had
taken.

“We can set her down a quarter mile to the north.”

“Hover over the target. I’ll fast-rope down.”

He gripped the rope and waited till the Black Hawk lowered
to thirty feet above the surface, skirting the tree line. He was on the ground
and running within seconds. An officer spoke to Lumin while the other two stood
in front of the vehicle.

“Stop,” one of the cops said, raising a hand as he
approached. “You want to tell us what’s going on, and why the military just
dropped you out of the sky?”

He stepped to the side and saw her. Oh God, his beautiful
lady was sick.
Really sick.
He stepped up to the cop.
“Tony Bale, U.S. Navy SEALs. I’d advise your friend there to step away from the
car.”

The cop crossed his arms. “Is that so?”

“Unless he wants to stop breathing in
twelve hours, yes.”

“What?” The cop’s brow rippled.

“She’s infected with a virus.
A deadly
one.”

The other cop, a leaner version with shades, stood with
attitude. “
This have
something to do with what we’ve
been hearing on the TV?”

“Hey!” he shouted to the cop standing beside Lumin’s window.
“Step away from the vehicle.”

“And who are you?” the cop asked, straightening up.

His buddy turned his head.
“Says she’s
infected with a virus.
Addy, think you might want to listen to him.”

The cop stepped away from the car.
“Seriously?”

He wasn’t interested in the cops anymore, his gaze glued to
Lumin. Her head rested against the seat, covered in sweat, her eyes barely
open.

“No,” she mouthed.

He rounded the car. “Leave, now,” he ordered. The cops backed
away, but only a few steps. “If you don’t leave, you’ll all be quarantined.” He
bent over. “Sweetheart, open the door.”

Lumin’s head swayed to look at him. She placed her hand on
the window, and he reached up to mirror it. “Please, sweetheart.”

She coughed and a small stream of blood slipped from her
lips. She swiped it away, and tears welled in her eyes.

“Tony.” She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering.
“Please,” she squeaked. “Stay with me until it’s over.”

“It’s not over,” he choked through tears and cleared the
lump in his throat. “We just started.”

“Petty Officer Bale,” the pilot called in his
comm
set.

“Go ahead.”

“Message from Base Command Coronado.”

“Go ahead.”

“They advise
Luminous
recovery
imminent.”

“Where?”

There was a pause.
“Cal-U, Irvine campus.”

Mace and Kayla had gone to the Bjornson’s residence. They
must have found a lead.
“Lumin!”
He swallowed hard,
seeing her eyes closed.
“Lumin.”
He jumped to his
feet, grabbing a good-sized rock from the ground and smashed the rear window.
The noise woke her. He unlocked the doors then yanked the driver’s door open.

“No!” she yelped, and tried to crawl across the seat.

He jumped in the car, started the engine and floored it,
headed for the
helo
.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled her under his arm. The
glands in her neck were extremely swollen, but not broken open. Rounding a
hairpin bend, he saw the chopper and stopped the vehicle fifty yards away.

“Black Hawk One, you copy?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m flying that helicopter out of here. I have to get her
to the base now.”

Silence returned. “Petty Officer Bale, I’ll fly.”

“Negative. Both you and the co-pilot need to disembark.”

He jumped out and pulled Lumin into his arms.
“Easy, sweetheart.
I’ve got you.” She lay in his arms like a
limp rag. He ran for the chopper and laid her on the deck. Closing the doors,
he raced for the cockpit. Offering the pilot and his navigator a thumbs-up, he
lifted off the ground. Switching the radio frequency, he called Base Command
Operations.

“Black Hawk One, Base Command
go
ahead.”

“Incoming. ETA one hour fifteen, advise Snow White I’ve
found the light. Need the recovery package on arrival. We’ll need a quarantined
area as well. Two infected.
Advise
CDC there’s a
vehicle at Kaibab National Park. It needs to be cordoned off.”

“Roger, Black Hawk One.”

He looked over his shoulder. Lumin was rolled into a tight
ball. “Hang on, Lumin.
Just one more hour.
We’re
gonna
make it.” She barely nodded. When her gaze rose to
meet his, he felt her pain.
Every ounce of it.

It’s
okay, my lady. You’re going to be okay.”

A minute later, he heard Ghost on the air frequency.

“Black Hawk One, Base Command.”

“Base Command, Black Hawk One, go ahead, sir.”

“Confirm, you’ve got the light?”

“Affirmative.
We’ll both need to be
quarantined. What’s Snow White’s status?”

“Target has not been acquired.”

“Then we’ll die together because I’m not leaving her, sir.
If permission is denied to base, I’ll fly this bird into the desert.”

“Permission granted. Proceed to base. We’ll have a hot suite
waiting.”

“Roger, good copy.”

“How is she, T-man?”

He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Sick,” he spouted.
“Oh God, she’s really sick.” He clutched the control arm to keep the
helo
flying straight. “She can’t die. I won’t let her die.”

“Easy, Tinman.
Get her here. We’ll
be waiting.”

“Black Hawk One, out.”

 

* * * *

 

The football coach cleared a path in the hallway as Kayla
and Mace followed. Heads swiveled seeing the odd threesome running past the
lecture halls. She didn’t have the endurance Mace and the coach had, and she
was out of breath when they reached a door somewhere in the bowels of the
university.

“Professor Linden?” the coach called out as he opened the
door.

An elderly man looked up from a desk littered with folders
and books. Bifocals sat on the end of his nose and a cardigan draped across his
thin shoulders.

“Coach Ross,” he said, blinking at her and Mace. The blink
turned into a wary look as Professor Linden sat the book he held, onto the
desk.

“Sir, my name is Kayla Austen, United States Navy analyst,
and this is Petty Officer Callahan, Navy SEAL. By that look on your face, you
know why we’re here.”

“Please have a seat. I was contacted by your peers.”

“There’s no time for sitting,” she said abruptly. “Clifford
Bjornson gave me these numbers before he died.” She waved the paper in front of
the professor. “I need to find whatever it’s associated with, and take it.”

“Clifford is—dead?”

She
strayed
a look at Mace.

“Yes, he is,” Mace answered, reaching for the door handle,
and then stared at the coach. “Thank you.”
Dismissing him.
Coach Ross got the idea and promptly left. Mace closed the door.

“I don’t know if Dr. Bjornson shared any information with
you. At this point, it really doesn’t matter. This looks like a combination. We
need to see it now.”

“Ms. Austen, I can see you’re flummoxed, but Clifford told
me people may come looking. His discovery must be protected.”

Every second passed like the hissing end of a lit fuse.
“Flummoxed? We’re looking for a way to stop a pandemic that may not be stoppable.
You possess the hiding place of the only hope the people of this country have.
Where is it?” she shouted. Professor Linden stared at her. “Do I look like a
terrorist, for crap’s sake?”

“Easy, Kayla,” Mace warned.

She took a deep breath and said, “Listen, professor, we’re
literally on the verge of damnation. Dr. Bjornson must have shared his
discoveries with you. This virus has to be stopped.”

The professor stood and surveyed her. “Clifford was my
friend. He thought he was working for the government.”

“We know that,” she said, her patience dwindling. “The virus
Dr. Bjornson created was released in three small towns. We don’t know if anyone
left the towns before it was identified, but we do know that it had a minimum
of twelve hours to work its way into the underground water table.”

“Ms. Austen, I have to be sure you’re not connected to the
man who tricked him.”

“If you want me to get the President of the United States on
the phone I will.”

The professor’s brows rose.

“He’s in his bunker, pacing the floor, expecting us to stop
his country from turning into a graveyard. I need the antiserum.”

The door crashed open. Mace swung around, weapon in his
hand, but men poured into the room like ants, and they were all armed. They
parted, and in walked a tall man of Middle Eastern ethnicity. “You’re not the
only one, Mrs. Austen,” the man said.

“Callum Dafoe,” the name stinging her
tongue
as she said it.

“Lower your weapon,” he warned Mace.

Mace did as he asked, knowing someone would die if he
didn’t. One of Dafoe’s men took it from him and motioned Mace to the corner of
the room, separating him. She and Mace shared a look and she wished like hell
they had E.S.P as a first language. Instead, she read his expression.
Stand down
was written in his gaze. She
placed her hands behind her and as she did, she slipped the paper Bjornson had
given her into the waistband of her skirt.

Dafoe walked up to a wide-eyed Professor Linden. “Where is
the vaccine?” he asked calmly.

The professor’s mouth opened and closed, and then he said,
“Not accessible by me. Only Dr. Bjornson can translate his notes.”

Callum Dafoe’s dark eyes glistened with impatience. “Show
me.” He turned to one of his men. “Tie them up,” he said motioning toward her
and Mace.

Professor Linden glanced at a file cabinet sitting to his
right.

“Get them, Professor,” Dafoe ordered.

“It won’t do you any good.”

“Give me the key to the cabinet or I take it from you and
you die.”

The Professor fished in his pocket revealing a keychain.

“Open it.”

The Professor took a hesitant step.

“Faster, Professor.”

Professor Linden cracked the small padlock on the file
cabinet and fingered through the folders, gripping one. “I’m telling you,
without Clifford this will not help you.”

Dafoe snatched the folder from him, opened it and flipped
some of the papers. “I don’t need to be a scientist. I have several in my
employ.”

“You selfish prick.” It shot from her mouth, fired by this
man’s blindness to anything but revenge. “Everyone loses people they love. One
way or the other, people die.”

Dafoe turned his hateful gaze on her. “Is it your wish to
die, Mrs. Austen?”

“Who the hell are you that you think your pain and loss is
more important than anyone else’s? That you have the right to act like God?”

“Kayla,” Mace said sharply.

A man from Dafoe’s guard cinched a plastic strap around her
wrists. “Everyone battles to exist. You think because your wife and son were
lost to war that you have the right to annihilate innocent people as
retribution. You make me sick.”

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