Payback (30 page)

God
knows I’ve had enough politicians ignore me.

But
still, Savalas’ reaction made him think he hadn’t told Henderson everything on
purpose. Either way, Henderson was going to listen now.

“Wait
here.”

Savalas
went ahead, leaving Red and McKinnon cooling their jets not ten feet away from
the man. Red took the opportunity to scan the crowd, spotting Spock in the
thick of things with his phone, pretending to be taking selfies, instead
getting the faces of those behind him.

“Both
witnesses have confirmed the man identified by them as the VIP is standing
beside Vice President Henderson.” It was Dawson’s voice passing on the intel.
He could only imagine how terrified Henderson’s daughter must be right now
knowing her father was two feet away from the man that had been involved in her
kidnapping. “Still no sighting of Koroma, over.”

He
personally didn’t think Koroma was here, but the possibility couldn’t be
ignored. If he were Koroma, out for revenge against a country whose people he
apparently hated, he wouldn’t be targeting one man. He’d be targeting hundreds
or thousands. And with his body an incubator for a disease that could do just
that, multiplied nine fold with the others that were infected along with him,
this contained venue made no sense.

But according
to the witnesses, something had been given to the new Vice President, a
briefcase containing God knows what, but when handed over, a reference being
made to “it” working like they thought it would.

And that
had to be the virus.

He knew
from his briefings that a single drop could last for days or even weeks,
depending on the conditions, and the handover was only earlier that day, the
time difference and haste of the meeting meaning tight timeframes.

They had
no idea where Koroma and his accomplices had gone, but he was willing to bet
they weren’t in a hurry, instead wanting to give the virus time to be truly
contagious before unleashing themselves on an unsuspecting American public.

Savalas
waved them over as Henderson appeared to excuse himself, the four men gathering
in a corner of the room.

“Now
what’s this about,” asked Henderson. “I’m in the middle of a very important
gathering.”

Red took
the lead, he the only one of the four jacked in directly to Sierra Leone
through his comm. “Mr. Vice President, I’m part of the same unit that rescued
your daughter earlier today.”

“You’re
Delta?”

Henderson
seemed to immediately realize the gaffe he had just committed, but with the
secret spilled, Red noticed an immediate change in Savalas’ body language
suggesting he was ready to defer to him.

And a
touch of fear.

“I can’t
say. What I can say is that according to your daughter, Vice President Kargbo visited
the village she was held hostage in earlier today, was friendly with our prime
suspect, Major Koroma, and was fully aware your daughter was there, looking
directly at her.”

“Impossible!
How could he have gotten here so quickly?”

“Your
daughter was only a three hour drive from Freetown and the flight was ten
hours, sir. With the time difference, he had plenty of time.”

Henderson
paused for a moment, then shook his head resolutely. “No, I’ve known this man
for several years. He’s an honored member of their government, a man who’s
fought on the front lines in the battle against Ebola. He’s a doctor for
Christ’s sake!”

Red was
kind of surprised by this at first, but it could explain a lot. If the man was
a doctor, fighting Ebola, then he would have seen the carnage it caused, and as
a senior politician, even before he became Vice President, he would have been
on the front lines of fundraising as well.

And
there was no greater source of relief funding than the United States, no matter
how much the ill-informed in the world hated this country. The US was almost
always the first to respond to natural disasters the world over, sending its
military into harm’s way when earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis and typhoons
struck, sending hundreds of millions, even billions of dollars to help rebuild
and care for the survivors, regardless of whether or not they were traditional
allies.

America
punched its weight, rarely receiving the credit it deserved and didn’t seek.

America
wasn’t just the world’s policeman, it was its fireman and paramedic as well,
its search and rescue tech and doctor. It was everything to everyone, funded by
the American taxpayer who realized that it was the responsibility of the
greatest country on Earth to help those who were in need without any
expectation of even a thank you.

It was
the American way, it was the Western way.

He had
always found it interesting how countries that hated us, who criticized our
very way of life, who felt we should burn in hell for being infidels,
contributed almost nothing when disaster struck. The Boxing Day Tsunami
resulted in billions of aid from Western countries, and barely a trickle from
oil rich countries like Saudi Arabia until they were heavily criticized, and
even then their contribution was paltry.

Those
who throw stones…

But when
America did fail, as it had too many times in Africa, all the good it did
around the world seemed conveniently forgotten.

Henderson
had continued his spirited defense of Kargbo, but Red finally cut him off.
“Nine of the perpetrators forced your daughter to inject them with the Ebola
virus. A case was given to the Vice President that we believe may have
contained the virus. We can’t risk you or your wife getting infected.”

Henderson
paused for a moment at the mention of his daughter. “How could they possibly
infect me? Besides, everyone who came off that flight was screened. No one had
a fever.”

Red opened
his mouth to continue but Henderson raised a finger, cutting him off.

“Enough.
The Vice President of Sierra Leone, my counterpart, was assassinated on our
soil. The new Vice President was instrumental in the rescue of my daughter.”
Huh?
“I can’t just run out of here because I think someone in the room might be
infected with Ebola.”

“Red,
he’s coming right at you!”

Red
spun, the warning from Spock through the comm heard only by him, the others
wondering what was going on. Red’s arm shot out, pushing Henderson into the
corner as McKinnon and Savalas realized something was going down, putting
themselves between the Vice President and the unknown threat, the crowd thick
and loud leaving Red without eyes on the target.

“Your
two o’clock!” Red spotted Spock pushing through the crowd, the start of a
commotion resulting as Red adjusted his gaze to the right. Suddenly he
recognized “Uncle” Bai Gondor from his immigration photo darting out from
behind a large man not two feet from Red.

“For my
people!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he rushed forward, “For my
people!”

His hand
was raised high in the air, a knife gripped tightly. Red reached up, grabbing
the man’s wrist and stepping into the attack with his left foot, spun the man
over his outstretched leg as he broke the grip, the knife clattering to the
floor as screams filled the room. Gondor hit the marble floor as Red spun, his
knee hammering into the man’s midriff, taking the wind out of him. He glared at
Red, his eyes filled with rage at his failure, when suddenly Red felt something
jab into his thigh. He looked to see Gondor’s free hand pushing the plunger of
a syringe.

Red
crushed the man’s windpipe with a single jab to the throat then batted the hand
away, the syringe skidding across the floor as he pushed his knee harder into
Gondor’s stomach.

Somebody
bent over to pick it up.

“Don’t
touch it!” shouted Red. “It’s got Ebola in it.”

More
screams were followed by panic as the crowd rushed for the exit at the far end.
Spock shoved through to his side.

“No,
stay back!” ordered Red, standing up, rubbing his thigh as Gondor gasped for
air. He pointed at Henderson. “Get him out of here but keep him isolated.
Nobody leaves here.”

Savalas
and McKinnon were already on their own comms barking orders as Red backed away
from everyone, not sure what to do. His heart was racing with the adrenaline of
the situation, but for the first time that he could remember since joining The
Unit he felt fear.

Not the
healthy, rational fear that you might feel in the field under fire. That just
kept you sharp and alive.

But the
fear of not being in control, the fear of the unknown.

The fear
of never seeing his wife and son again.

Or
worse, seeing them, but not being able to touch them before he died.

For he
knew the numbers.

Up to
ninety percent died.

And he
had just been injected with an entire syringe full of the virus.

The room
was almost silent now, empty save Spock and McKinnon, Savalas and his men
having evacuated Henderson and his wife within seconds.

Footsteps
echoed across the floor and Red turned to see Vice President Kargbo walking
toward them. He stopped.

“It is
unfortunate you interfered.”

Red hid
his shock, rage instead building inside. “So you admit to being involved.”

“Of
course. Your Vice President voted against increased funding for Ebola at the
very time we needed it most. If that funding had been approved, thousands could
have been saved. Instead he played politics, all over a pipeline. He and his
family deserve to die.”

“And I
deserve to die?” asked Red, rage gripping him tightly. “What of my family? Do
they deserve to see me die?”

“You are
American, you are part of the problem.”

“You’ll
go to prison for this,” said Spock, stepping toward Kargbo, Red holding up a
hand, warning him to keep his distance.

Kargbo
laughed. “I have diplomatic immunity. I can’t be touched.” Spock charged toward
Kargbo but the man wagged a finger, opening his jacket and withdrawing a gun from
a shoulder holster.

The
criminal was the only armed man in the room.

But Red had
never let that stop him. He lashed out with both hands, hitting the inside of Kargbo's
wrist hard while striking the top of his hand, the weapon clattering to the
floor as the bastard cried out in agony. He kicked the gun to Spock who grabbed
it, covering them.

Red
yanked on the man’s tie, pulling him toward the syringe that still lay on the
floor nearby, Kargbo struggling as the tightening tie slowly cut off his oxygen
supply. Red bent down and grabbed the syringe as McKinnon’s jaw dropped.

“This is
what I have to say to your diplomatic immunity.”

He
jabbed the syringe into Kargbo’s neck and shoved the plunger the rest of the
way, injecting what remained of the virus as Kargbo, brave and full of bravado
a moment before when he couldn’t be touched, gasped in shock, his eyes bulging
with fear.

Red
jerked the syringe free, shoving the man away from him, releasing the tie.

“Now you
die too.”

Samaia, Sierra Leone

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

Sarah
Henderson shook her head at Dawson. “I don’t care what you
think
you
can’t allow, but I’m not abandoning these people. They’re sick and they’re
dying! We just got the supplies we need to save them and I have no intention of
leaving before relief arrives.”

Dawson
frowned, knowing there was no point in arguing with the woman. What she didn’t
know was that he could put her on a helicopter whether she liked it or not,
there no chance of prosecuting him for violating her rights since he wasn’t
here.

But he
didn’t want to do that, because the woman was right. Abandoning these people
would be compounding an already horrible crime. He turned to Captain Grimshaw.
“When can we expect medical personnel?”

“It’s
being organized now. Several hours at least.”

“Then
we’ll wait those hours.”

Dawson’s
comm squawked. “Bravo Zero-One, Control Actual, I’ve got an update, over.”

Dawson
exchanged glances with the others, Colonel Clancy’s voice sounding odd. He
stepped away from the two doctors just in case it was bad news on Henderson’s
father. “Go ahead, Control.”

“I’m
afraid I’ve got bad news, guys.” Dawson felt his stomach tighten. “There was an
attempt on Vice President Henderson’s life. He and his wife are safe, but in
the process of saving the Vice President, Red was injected with what we think
was Ebola.” Niner kicked the dirt, spinning around as he clasped his hands
behind his neck in shock, Atlas and Jimmy both putting hands on his shoulders
as they all reeled from the words delivered from thousands of miles and an
ocean away. Dawson’s best friend was dying, out of reach, and there was nothing
he could do about it, nothing any of them could do about it.

He had
failed.

If they
had arrived earlier, ignored the demands of the Sierra Leoneans in wanting to
conduct the rescue themselves, they would have bought valuable hours that might
have prevented the attack in the first place. But instead he had sat back and waited
while the politicians figured things out.

“Does Shirley
know?” The thought of Red’s wife finding out on the news or through someone
outside The Unit killed him inside.
I need to be there!

“Not
yet. I’m leaving now to take her to Howard University Hospital. Apparently
they’re set up for this type of thing.”

“Was it
Koroma?”

“Negative.
It was someone on this end in cooperation with their new Vice President. He
confirmed it was because of Henderson’s tiebreaker vote against increased Ebola
funding. We still don’t have a location on him or the other eight.”

Dawson
looked at his men. “We’re done here, but Doctor Henderson wants to stay to take
care of the Ebola patients until the medical team arrives.”