HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (29 page)

BOOK: HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2)
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Christov nodded and waved at the three kneeling officers. ‘Get them on the chopper.’

Ben watched Karen and the others being dragged toward the ladder. His last glimpse of Karen was of her back as she climbed the ladder.

This could be a good thing
, thought Ben.
You don’t load people into a helicopter to shoot them. You put them in a helicopter to take them somewhere else.

Ben felt a little relieved. Maybe they were through the worst of it. With Karen removed from Christov’s presence, her chances of survival seemed to increase markedly. If Karen was removed from immediate danger, Ben’s worst fear would be averted. It didn’t matter what happened to him. As long as Karen was all right, Ben could cope with whatever Christov had planned for him.

He heard the helicopter lifting off.

‘Where are you taking them?’ Ben asked.

‘That’s up to you,’ replied Christov. ‘If you tell me what I need to know, my pilot will deliver them safely to the lifeboats.’

Ben felt relief wash over him.
Thank God. Thank God she’ll be safe. All I have to do is help them and she’ll be safe.

‘I will,’ confirmed Ben. ‘I have been. I have nothing to hide.’

‘Then where is she?’

‘Who?’

‘Elizabeth.’

Ben panicked.

He didn’t know anyone named Elizabeth. Adrenalin and fear drove his brain into overdrive.
Is she a passenger? A crewmember?

Ben groped for an answer. ‘Is she...is she the woman we rescued?’

Christov nodded.

‘She’s in the hospital,’ said Ben with relief. ‘On Deck 5. She went straight to the hospital after we picked her up.’

Christov stood before Ben and studied Ben’s face.

‘What did she give the Marines?’

‘She couldn’t have given them anything. She was unconscious.’

‘What did she tell you?’

Ben shook his head. ‘She couldn’t speak. She was unconscious when we rescued her. The doctor didn’t think she’d survive the night. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.’

‘How do you know she was unconscious?’

‘I picked her up myself,’ Ben explained. ‘I took her down to the hospital.’

Christov paced slowly around Ben’s chair.

‘If Elizabeth never spoke a word, then why are the Marines here?’

‘They came to help us,’ answered Bryant. ‘When the entire ship went haywire, they came to help.’

Christov stopped behind Ben and put his hands on Ben’s shoulders.

‘Just one more question, First Officer Bryant, then your officers will be set free.’

Ben nodded.
So far, so good.

‘Where is it?’

‘Where’s what?’

Christov walked around the chair and raised an eyebrow at Ben.

Ben tried to think. ‘The life raft? The life raft was carried down to the hospital.’

Christov spoke into his hand radio. ‘He’s not being cooperative.’

Who is he talking to?
Ben wondered.
The helicopter? Is he going to have Karen brought back?

The helicopter didn’t respond immediately.

When it did, it wasn’t how Ben expected.

He heard someone screaming and then...

...THUUUMP!

The entire bridge shuddered as something slammed down onto the roof above Ben’s head.

What the hell was that?

Christov twisted Ben’s head to the left.

Ben saw a body get thrown off the bridge roof. He had time enough to see a white officer’s uniform. The man had black hair.

Oh, God,
realized Ben in an instant.
They just killed Williams. They pushed him from the helicopter. He landed on the bridge. That was him screaming. That huge thumping noise was him hitting the bridge.

‘Stop!’ hollered Ben. ‘Just tell me what you want. Tell me what you want and I’ll tell you where it is. How can I answer when I don’t know what you’re talking about?’

Ben struggled with his bonds.

Karen could be next! They could push Karen from the helicopter any second! All Christov has to do is raise the radio and give the command, then it would be Karen screaming on her way down to a pulverizing death.

‘What is it?’ pleaded Ben. ‘Tell me what it is. Tell me!’

Christov looked up through the hole in the bridge ceiling.

‘Cooperate with me and this will all be over,’ he replied.

‘I am cooperating!’ shouted Ben. ‘I don’t know what you mean!’

Ben imagined them hauling his beautiful Karen to the edge of the helicopter.
They could be up there right now getting her into position while she fought and cried and screamed.

‘Wrong answer,’ said Christov, both to Ben and into his radio.

‘No. No,’ begged Ben. ‘WAIT!’

‘Too late,’ replied Christov.

‘NO!’

THUUUMP!

The person landed on the angled glass window right in front of Ben.

A body-shaped impression punched into the reinforced glass. The body neither broke through nor bounced off.

It wedged into the glass.

Ben made himself look.

The crumpled corpse looked too large to be Karen.

It was Geoffrey Radley’s corpse. They had pushed Geoffrey from the helicopter.

Ben gave up trying to reason with Christov and focused every ounce of fear and anger into breaking his bonds. He thrashed his entire body around in the pilot’s chair, ignoring the plastic tearing away the skin around his wrist.

Christov stood before Ben. He watched Ben’s frantic contortions.

‘You won’t break them,’ he said. ‘Are you ready to answer me?’

Christov brought the radio to his lips.

Panic-fueled words spilled from Ben’s mouth.

‘The Captain’s safe!’ Ben yelled. ‘I remember now. The Captain came down to the hospital. He took something from Elizabeth’s belongings. He went back to his suite. That’s where it is. In his safe!’

Christov studied Ben, but didn’t lower the radio. ‘What did it look like?’

Ben had absolutely no idea, but he would say anything to give Karen a chance of surviving the next ten seconds. He thought back to when he’d rescued Elizabeth. He hadn’t seen anything special, but he hadn’t searched the inflatable raft. He’d been focusing on saving her life. He remembered she’d been wearing long pants with cargo pockets.

‘It was about the size of a small camera. Maybe a bit larger, but I didn’t see it properly. The Captain kept it covered. It could have been something smaller though, something inside a case.’

Ben was trying to be both vague and specific at the same time. He prayed he hadn’t just condemned Karen to a horrifying death.

‘The Captain’s safe isn’t hidden,’ he continued. ‘It’s in his walk-in wardrobe. In his suite. It’s biometric. You just need his thumbprint to open it.’

Please, God. Please help me
, Ben prayed.
Please don’t let her die.

‘Is that the truth?’ asked Christov.

‘I swear it,’ answered Ben. ‘I swear to God. I swear it on my life. That’s what I saw. That’s where it is. Please don’t kill her. I can help you. I can do anything.’

Christov lay his hand on Ben’s shoulder. ‘You did just help me. It’s over now.’

Ben nodded, letting his head drop, thanking God that he’d thought of the safe at the last second. Hopefully the Captain had fled his suite like the other crazies. Christov might never find him. Without the right thumbprint, Christov might never discover Ben’s deception.

‘He’s told us,’ Christov said into his radio.

Ben snapped his head up.

Christov had promised to deliver the officers safely to the lifeboats if Ben cooperated.

From the corner of his eye, Ben saw a fleeting shadow.

In the large spot of sunshine on the bridge floor, he saw the shadow of a person waving their arms and kicking their legs.

At that exact moment, he heard Karen screaming.

He looked up through the ceiling, toward the sound of the scream, just in time to see Karen windmilling her arms as she plummeted through the hole in the bridge.

She struck the deck with so much force that Ben felt a rush of wind.

She landed just meters from him.

Ben had witnessed the last few moments of her life. He’d seen her face. Her terror.

He sobbed out loud, making noises no human should ever need to make. He moaned in desperation at Christov, ‘She...was...my wife. You just killed my wife.’

Christov stepped forward and dropped something on Ben’s lap.

It was the photo. The small photo Karen kept on her workstation from their honeymoon. In the photo, they were standing on the beach holding their shoes, still dressed up after a fancy dinner.

He knew
, thought Ben.
He knew we were married all along.

‘I gave you three chances to save her life,’ said Christov. ‘If you paid more attention to what was happening on your ship, Officer Bryant, maybe your wife would still be alive.’

‘I told you everything,’ whispered Ben, feeling himself slipping into shock.

‘I hope so,’ replied Christov. ‘Otherwise you’re next.’

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Coleman scanned the ship’s hospital.

‘Why do you need all this equipment?’ he asked.

‘Because we have so many elderly and frail passengers,’ Erin replied. ‘Normally there’s a constant stream of passengers coming through here.’

Erin pointed through the glass doors toward the different areas. ‘We have the consult rooms, x-ray lab, MRI machine, ultrasound booths, dialysis machines, a pharmacist–’

Neve cut in. ‘Where’s pathology?’

Erin pointed. ‘Right through there.’

Justin, Craigson and Myers followed after Neve. The doors inside the hospital were all automatic glass sliding doors.

‘Stay alert,’ warned Coleman. ‘These doors won’t slow the hostiles down.’

The place had obviously been abandoned in a hurry. A nearby counter looked like someone had scrambled over it to escape. A telephone receiver hung from the counter by its cord.

‘I’ll try calling the bridge on the hardline,’ said Erin.

She reached over the counter and dialed.

She listened.

‘No answer.’

‘And you said the bridge was secure, right?’

Erin nodded. ‘There’s only one door in and out. It’s solid steel. The crazies can’t get in. They could damage the phone lines though.’

Coleman didn’t have any resources to send to the bridge.

‘It must be the crazies,’ said Erin. ‘They’re tearing everything apart. They’ve damaged the phone system somewhere.’

Coleman wasn’t so sure.

Forest obviously agreed.

‘Captain, I’d like to set up a perimeter,’ requested Forest.

Coleman looked to Erin. ‘How many entrances access the hospital, including the emergency and service entrances?’

Erin studied an evacuation plan on the wall. ‘There are eight entrances.’

Coleman shook his head. ‘That’s too many access points to control an effective perimeter. Make a perimeter sweep instead.’

Coleman studied Sergeant King. King’s eyes were constantly sweeping from area to area, searching for any sign of trouble. He was covered almost head-to-toe in flecks of blood, a sign of extensive hand-to-hand combat. In his hands he carried a gardening shovel, which he’d obviously improvised into an effective close quarters weapon.

Coleman discreetly raised an eyebrow at Forest and glanced at King.

Forest shrugged.

Neither Coleman nor Forest understood what was happening in King’s mind since Marlin’s death.

‘Okay,’ began Coleman. ‘Sweep clockwise. Recon only. Don’t bring an army of crazies down on our heads.’

‘Understood,’ chorused Forest and King together.

Erin hung up a different telephone receiver, failing to reach the bridge again.

Coleman pointed after Neve and the others. ‘Will the pathology lab have everything we need?’

Erin looked confident. ‘Infectious diseases are our biggest problem here. It comes from having so many people living shoulder to shoulder. Our hospital will have everything Neve needs.’

Coleman nodded and studied the hospital floor plan mounted on the wall.

He didn’t like what he saw.

The hospital was designed to admit people from any part of the ship very quickly. It was designed for ease of access and rapid unimpeded movement.

To Coleman, this made it a nightmare to defend.

The complicated network of offices and laboratories could be breached from any direction. If a wave of crazies came surging through the corridors, confusion could cost them dearly.

He quickly committed the floor plan to memory and then waved Erin toward the pathology laboratory.

‘Let’s just hope we don’t have any interruptions.’

 

 

 

 

Christov studied the Marines on the surveillance monitors.

They’re in the hospital. Two of them are sweeping the perimeter. The rest are inside.

The hospital was perfect.

Christov couldn’t have chosen a better location to slaughter the Marines.

And they had just the right tools to get the job done. His security staff had just finished unpacking their special weapons.

Flamethrowers.

Every second man now carried a long flamethrower in addition to his submachine gun.

Christov had learned by hard experience that all animals feared fire. Only fire repelled the infected.

And they worked equally well on Marines.

Christov needed to move fast, so Bolton had designed him a pistol-style flamethrower. The weapon’s fuel reserve was limited, but more than enough to hold back a horde of infected. In the close quarters of the hospital, the flamethrowers would be devastating.

Bolton never carried a gun. He considered firearms crude. Instead, Bolton had designed his own weapon.

He called it a tool.

Bolton’s ‘tool’ consisted of two gas tanks strapped to his back. Hoses channeled the gas to a device resembling a sword handle.

The gas tanks slowed him down, but it didn’t matter, because once he was moving, nothing could stop him.

Bolton’s tool was the most devastating close quarters weapon Christov had ever witnessed.

‘We’re ready,’ announced Bolton, flipping up the face panel of his welding mask.

Christov pointed to the cameras around the hospital.

‘Those Marines have no idea we’re here. We’re going to keep it that way. No gunfire. From here to the hospital use only flamethrowers to repel the hostiles.’

Christov pointed at the map.

‘Bolton. Your demolition team is waiting on the helipad. Get them working right now. You go with them.’

Bolton pointed to the surveillance monitors. ‘What about the Marines? If my team attacks from the rear, we can crush them between us.’

Christov shook his head. ‘There are only five Marines. They’re dragging a kid and two women. One’s in a wheelchair. I can deal with them. I’ll send a team to flank them. They won’t leave the hospital alive. And then I want the hospital torched. I want every medical record and blood sample burned. We’re going to incinerate everything linking this mess back to us.’

‘What about Elizabeth Green?’ asked Bolton.

‘We’ll burn her corpse to ashes.’

‘What if she’s not dead?’ asked Bolton.

‘Then I’ll burn her alive like the witch she is.’

Bolton nodded and opened the bridge’s heavy steel door. ‘I’ll start turning this ship into a submarine then.’

Christov smiled. He liked Bolton’s dark sense of humor.

Christov’s men were eager to leave the confined bridge and start the operation in earnest.

I have one thing left to do.

Only one bridge officer remained alive.

Christov walked over to Bryant, stepping over where Bryant’s dead wife sprawled on the deck.

He grabbed Bryant’s hair and jerked his face up. The man’s eyes looked dull, almost lifeless.

He’s a broken man.

Christov looked to where Bryant’s wife lay in a bloody mess of blood-soaked uniform and compound fractures.

She really hit the deck hard
, thought Christov.

‘You married the wrong man,’ Christov said to her corpse. ‘You married a man who couldn’t even protect his wife, let alone this ship.’

Christov plucked Bryant’s security ID card off his pocket.

He waved his men toward the door. ‘Let’s go. I want to get back what’s mine before Bolton cuts this ship in half.’

Christov stopped two gunmen. ‘You two stay here and watch these cameras. If the Marines leave the hospital, radio me.’

Christov glanced up toward the helicopter. ‘Keep this hatch open and kill anyone who gets close. I want a clear extraction path back to the helicopter. We’ll be leaving in a hurry. Understood?’

Both men nodded.

As Christov stepped through the hatch, he heard Bryant speak.

‘You’re all dead men,’ said Bryant. ‘Every one of you. Those guns won’t save you. They’re going to tear you apart. This disease will kill you all.’

Christov almost laughed out loud.
He truly has no idea what Elizabeth brought here.

‘It’s not a disease,’ said Christov, pausing in the hatchway. ‘It’s a miracle.’

 

 

 

 

Neve rolled into the pathology laboratory.

It smelled like every pathology lab she’d ever worked in, an unpleasant combination of soap, sterilization agents and floor cleaner.

She hadn’t, however, always worked in pathology labs so well-equipped.

Where do I start?
First, make sure no one gets hurt.

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