Payback (32 page)

“No,
it’s okay, what is it?” she asked, turning back toward him.

“Is it
true that ninety-percent die from this thing?”

She
shook her head. “That’s worst case scenario in Africa. People don’t die from
the virus, they die from the effects of the virus, usually organ failure. We’ve
got all the tools we need here to keep you alive, all the medicines to control
the essentials. We’ll keep everything in balance, give you the right meds, and
you’ll be right as rain before you know it.”

Red
allowed himself a slight smile. “You’re a good liar.”

She did
a quick bow. “Community theatre!” She placed a gloved hand on his. “But I
was
being serious. This is the place to be if you have this disease, and this is
the time to be here. You were exposed only a couple of hours ago. All we need
from you is to tell us every little thing that doesn’t feel right as soon as it
doesn’t feel right. Don’t try to tough things out. You
tell
us,
immediately, and we’ll act on it. The only other thing we need from you is to
never give up. No matter how bad things get, no matter how horrible you feel,
or how hopeless things may seem,
never
lose your will to live, your will
to fight this thing. If you’re infected, things will get bad, they will get
worse before they get better, but you need to remember that you
will
get
better.” She paused. “You said you’ve got a wife and son?”

Red
nodded.

“What’s
his name?”

“Bryson.”

“Well,
every time you feel like giving up, you think of Bryson, and remember that
twenty-four hours is a long time, and a lot can happen in that time. Ever had
the flu?”

He
nodded. “Of course.”

“Well,
just remember how horrible you felt with that, and how quickly you felt better
once it had passed. This will be ten times worse than that, but you’ll feel
better ten times faster once you start to turn the corner.”

“Ten
times worse, eh? I think we need to discuss your bedside manner.”

There
was a knock on the glass and he turned to see Shirley pressed against the
glass, holding Bryson, Colonel Clancy, Spock and Maggie behind them. He waved,
the desperate urge to hold them both, to feel their touch, almost overwhelming.

But they
were here.

And the
mere sight of his son was enough to steel his resolve to survive.

The
nurse flicked a switch on is bedside. “Use this to talk to them. They can hear
you now.”

“Hi
guys, how are you?”

He could
hear Shirley sobbing through the speaker, Bryson’s eyes red but seemingly
excited to see his father. Shirley looked about for a microphone, then just
tried talking. “Are you okay?”

Red
nodded. “I feel fine, just not happy about being cooped up. How are you guys
doing?”

“We’ll
be fine, don’t you worry about us.”

“Where
will you be staying?”

Clancy
stepped forward. “We’re arranging for a hotel nearby for both of them. Don’t
worry, we’ll take care of everything.”

“What’s
the latest, Colonel?”

“BD and
the others rescued the doctors, no casualties. Henderson is on her way back now
with the team.”

“That’s
good. Koroma?”

“We
don’t know where he or his men are yet, but we’ll find them.”

Red
paused then looked at Spock. “Hey, buddy, you been cleared?”

Spock
stepped forward. “I’ve got to take my temperature every damned few hours for
the next three weeks, but other than that, I’m good to go.”

“That’s
good to hear. Doesn’t look like I’m going to be that lucky.”

“Hey,
I’ve been talking to the doctors here. You’re going to do just fine. Apparently
one of the Ebola survivors here matches your blood type and they’ve already
agreed to donate. You’ll be just fine.”

“Well,
let’s not waste any of that good stuff on that asshole.”

“Mike!”

“Sorry,
dear.” Red grinned at his giggling son. “A-hole.”

“That’s
not much better.”

“Genuinely
misunderstood individual?”

“Better,”
laughed Shirley, putting Bryson down on a chair that Spock had pushed up
against the window.

“So, am
I up sh—the creek for what I did?” he asked Clancy.

“What
did you do? My understanding from Spock and Agent McKinnon is that you stopped
the attacker, were injected in the process, then Vice President Kargbo
confessed to his involvement and injected himself, committing a very slow
suicide.”

Spock
leaned forward. “That’s
exactly
how I remember it.”

Red
laughed, a smile breaking out on his face as Bryson pressed his lips against
the glass and blew, his cheeks puffing out with a farting sound. “Sounds good
to me. My report will be a little late though, Colonel.”

Clancy
chuckled. “You’re excused.” He jabbed a finger at him. “
This
time.” He
placed a hand on Bryson’s shoulder. “Well, big man, why don’t we go find
something to eat and let your mom and dad have some private time.”

Bryson’s
head bobbed up and down in excitement, the little guy knowing damned well he
was about to get junk food.

“Bye,
Daddy!” Bryson waved and jumped down from the chair, taking the Colonel’s hand
as they waved to Red then headed off, leaving Shirley alone at the window.

But it
wasn’t private time, there two nurses in the room with him.

“How are
you doing, hon?”

Shirley
burst into tears, pressing against the glass as his heart broke at the sight of
the woman he loved falling apart.

“Not
good.”

“Listen,
hon, everything’s going to be okay. I need you to be strong for Bryson and for
me. While I’m stuck in here, you need to take care of things out there, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“I’m
going to be in here for weeks probably, so you need to plan on that.” He paused
as a thought occurred to him. “Have you told my parents?”

She shook
her head. “No, there was no time.”

“Okay,
then I need you to get yourself together and call Mom. Knowing them they’ll be
here before the day’s out and they’ll help you with Bryson. He can’t stay here,
he has to go to school. Let them take care of him and if you need anything,
just ask one of the guys. They’ll do whatever needs to be done, okay. Remember,
The Unit will always take care of you guys.”

She
nodded. “I know,” she murmured, holding a hand against the glass, the fingers
splayed open. “I just wish I could hold you right now.”

“Me too,
hon, me too.” He could feel his control loosening, the one thing he hated more
than anything else in the world the sight of his wife in pain. “Now, why don’t
you go splash some water on your face and give them a call. The sooner you do,
the sooner they’ll be here to help you.”

“Okay,”
she said, turning to leave.

“Oh, and
hon?”

She
turned back to face him.

“When
Niner gets back, tell him you need him to do some dishes or laundry or
something then tell me what he says.”

She
strangled out a sobbed-laugh as Red grinned at her, waving as she turned to
leave. He pushed himself up on his elbows, not wanting to let her out of his
sight for a single second, then when she finally turned a corner, he lay back
down and turned his head away from the glass.

And
silently prayed, a well of tears in his eyes finally running over the bridge of
his nose and onto the pillow as self-pity threatened to overwhelm him.

He
squeezed his hands tight, the fingernails digging into his palms.

Fight!

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York City, New York

Koroma handed over his passport to the US Customs and Border
Protection Officer. He was exhausted from the flight and wasn’t exactly feeling
himself. It had been two days since Sarah Henderson had injected him with the
virus, and from what he understood, the method of infection and the amount of
the injection being far more than a drop, meant he could very well be already
showing symptoms. He had been relieved to pass the temperature check both in
Senegal and upon arrival here, everyone from his part of the world being
screened.

But as
had been proven time and again, a normal temperature didn’t mean you weren’t
infected, or infectious only hours later.

“The
purpose of your visit?”

“Business
with a little bit of pleasure,” replied Koroma with a tired smile. “I’m
attending a conference on Ebola then I hope to pay my respects at Ground Zero
on behalf of my government.”

His
diplomatic passport was scanned and the officer looked at the screen. “Why did
you come through Senegal and not Freetown?”

“I
haven’t been in Freetown for at least a month. It was the best way to guarantee
to your government that I wasn’t infected.”

The man
handed him his passport back. “Rough there?”

Koroma
nodded. “You have no idea.”

“No, I
guess I wouldn’t.” He waved him through. “Enjoy your stay, Dr. Vandy.”

“Thank
you.”

Koroma
followed the throngs of passengers, his eyes scanning the crowds, slowly
picking out his men as they headed for the exit. He glanced up at a television
screen and paused as he read the headline.

UPDATE
ON FAILED ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT

He
frowned, continuing forward. He had heard the news in Senegal that the attempt
on Henderson had failed. It was unfortunate it wasn’t one of his men assigned
to the task, instead a civilian volunteer used. It had been necessary to use an
existing embassy employee since security would be incredibly tight and a new
arrival would be a red flag to any security chief worth his salt. Kargbo had
delivered the vial, the blood taken by himself before Sarah had even known of
the plan. According to everything he had read in planning the operation, he
knew injecting the blood would be enough, but getting vials of blood into the
United States would be impossible outside of using a diplomatic pouch.

Enter
Kargbo.

Kargbo’s
entire family had died from the virus at the outset months ago and had become
one of the leading figures in his country in trying to raise awareness of the
need to take drastic measures to stop the virus from spreading.

He had
been accused of fear mongering.

Unfortunately,
eventually, he had been proven right.

When
Koroma’s wife and son had died, Kargbo visited him to offer his condolences,
Koroma’s wife Kargbo’s niece. Their deaths had come fresh on the heels of word
that Vice President Henderson had voted against additional funding to help
fight the outbreak, casting a rare tie-breaker vote in a split Senate.

It had
enraged many in West Africa, including himself and Kargbo.

It was
then that their plan had been hatched.

It began
as casual conversation, wishful thinking, then as the night progressed, the
ideas flowing, they realized that actual revenge could be possible, for they
had the ultimate weapon at their disposal.

The
virus itself.

It took
months to finalize the plans and recruit the necessary people, almost two dozen
volunteers recruited in the United States, all men he could trust, all men he
had grown up with as a child, all men heartbroken by what their adopted country
had done to their homeland through its inaction.

It
wasn’t enough to extract money and resources out of America; that had already
begun. It was time to punish America for all that he and his country had lost,
so that if it ever happened again, they might remember their own horror and act
quickly so it never again reached their shores.

And Vice
President Henderson would have been the symbol for America’s politicians the
next time a vote of this type came up. His infection with the virus, even if he
didn’t die, would be an event that would echo in every politician’s memory for
years and decades to come.

But the
coup de grâce was to be Henderson’s daughter.

When
Kargbo had visited him with the exciting news that Henderson’s daughter had
just arrived in Freetown as a volunteer, they had quickly revised their plans
to include her. Should their attempt on Vice President Henderson fail, his
daughter’s death because of his actions would punish the man for the rest of
his life.

The plan
had been triggered with Vice President Okeke’s visit to the United States, his
assassination necessary so Kargbo could take his place, his political maneuvers
beforehand setting it up so he would be the clear choice.

It had
worked.

And with
the kidnapping of Henderson’s daughter, Kargbo had immediately called for a face-to-face
meeting with him to discuss the situation, which they knew couldn’t be refused,
the event too public.

But with
the doctors’ rescue, the discussion had been turned into a celebration.

It was
the one piece of news he had learned in Senegal that had disappointed him.
Apparently the doctors hadn’t been killed by Mustapha as he had ordered,
American and British Special Forces having freed them only hours after he had
left.

Henderson
wouldn’t feel the pain he felt, but it didn’t matter.

His
village was now being looked after, his actions saving it from certain doom,
and the Henderson family would be changed forever.

And now
it was time to change America.

Forever.

Approaching US Airspace

“We were able to track two vehicles leaving Samaia, heading north.
Satellites picked them up heading for the capital Conakry on the coast and
eventually the port. We managed to find the ship they boarded, the Captain
saying he was paid in advance to take on nine passengers, no questions asked.
He dropped them off in Dakar, Senegal overnight. There’s a direct flight from
Dakar to JFK every day that leaves at one-fifteen in the morning local time. We
think they boarded that flight.”