Recovery: V Plague Book 8 (15 page)

“Not
revenge.  You didn’t here him when I first called while I was still in
Arizona.  He isn’t over me.  Oh.  My.  God!”

Katie turned
in her seat to face me, Dog grunting when her elbow bumped his nose, which was
sitting on the center armrest.

“He’s making
a trade,” she said.  “Don’t you get it?  You for me.  He made a deal with
them.  They capture us.  They get you.  They deliver me to him.  He must be far
enough around the bend to actually think this would work.”

I didn’t
want to admit that everything Katie had come up with made sense.  I couldn’t
argue with it and it was a problem I didn’t need right now.

“You said
he’s in Australia.  Right?”

“Yes. 
Why?” 

“And
Australia is still free of infection?  Hasn’t fallen apart?”  I asked.

“As far as I
know.”

“Call
Jessica,” I said after a couple more minutes of thinking.  “I need her to track
someone down for me.”

Lucas Martin
had been a friend of mine when I was in the Army.  At the time he was a Staff
Sergeant with Australia’s Special Air Service Regiment, the SASR, or more
simply the SAS.  These were Australia’s Special Forces and had originally been
modeled after the British SAS.  There numbers are small but they are one badass
group of operators.

Lucas and I
first met at the British SAS training facility in Hereford, England during a
NATO special operations summit.  He was as outgoing and jovial as I am reserved
and we’d struck up a fast friendship.  We endured what had felt like endless
and pointless meetings for three days, until the fun started. 

Sitting on
our asses for the conference earned us two days free run of the training
center.  We tromped all over the English countryside and let me tell you, that
little island is anything but flat.  Competitive shooting events, kill house
clearing, rappelling, parachuting and fast roping out of Lynx helicopters
cemented our friendship.

We stayed in
touch afterwards, as missions and life allowed, and got to work together once
in a shithole third world African country that shall remain nameless.  His unit
had been in country for several weeks, and knowing the lay of the land had been
integrated into mine when we arrived.

It had been
a very long month before our mutual politicians decided to pull all of us out. 
The country was ramping up to whole scale genocide and the UN was getting ready
to send in peacekeepers.  We did more in that month than the UN troops accomplished
in the next three years, but there was concern that someone would notice that the
US and Australia had SF troops on the ground.

We had
worked in a small corner of the country, the worst area, as there were so many wannabe
warlords that you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting one of them. 
Living deep in the jungle we were ghosts that came out at night and hunted the
bad guys who were terrorizing the helpless civilian population. 

There were a
couple of locals who had been working with the CIA for years and they would
supply us with intel about who was getting ready to do what.  Before we were
recalled word had gotten to us that the warlords and their rag-tag armies were
afraid to leave their compounds at night because of our hunting expeditions. 
This had encouraged us and Lucas and I had decided to take the fight to where
the bad guys lived.

For a week,
we assaulted a compound every night.  One of them shocked even us once we broke
into the Catholic church that had been taken over by a particularly ruthless man
named… well, let’s just call him Wazi.

Children
were locked in cages that had originally been built for animals.  They couldn’t
stand, sit or even lie down.  All they could do was stay curled into a ball.  Women
and young girls, some didn’t even look like they had reached puberty, were
stripped naked and chained to a wall by their wrists.  If one of Wazi’s men
happened to feel the urge, well that’s what the females were there for.  Some
of the younger girls were dead, still bound in place, their corpses left to
rot.

We killed
every single member of Wazi’s army that night before releasing the women and
children and escorting them to a small village that was miles away.  Lucas had
found Wazi, hiding in a confessional booth, and had beaten the man to death
with his bare hands.  I’d finally wrapped my arms around him and moved him away
as he continued to wale on the corpse.

Walking out
of the courtyard we’d discovered a mass grave where the brothers, sons, husbands
and fathers of Wazi’s victims had been unceremoniously dumped after being
hacked to pieces with machetes.  The killers were also using the grave as a
latrine.

This was one
of the worst atrocities we came across and we encountered more death and torture
during the operation than I could have imagined.  By the time we packed up our
camp and set out for the extraction point, attacks on the civilian population
in the area had all but stopped.  The surviving warlords were terrified as word
of our actions spread and were afraid to leave their compounds even during the
day.

Experiencing
what we had, and fighting together to do something about it, had formed a
lasting bond between Lucas and I.  But we hadn’t seen each other since.  We had
stayed in touch with the occasional email and rare phone call over the years.

He had met a
bouncy, blonde New Zealand girl and married her a few years ago, soon retiring
from the SAS and settling down on a vast swath of land in the territory of
South Australia.  The last I’d heard from him had been a couple of years ago
when his wife was pregnant with their third child.  He’d said they were going
for an even half dozen.

I had a
standing invitation to come visit him and his family whenever I wanted, for as
long as I wanted, but had never had the time to take him up on it.  Now, I
wanted to talk to him and ask a favor.

“Will he
help?”  Katie asked when I finished telling her about whom I was trying to
reach.  We were still roaring north, deeper into Kansas at 140 miles an hour
and were waiting for Jessica to see if she could work some magic and get a call
through to Lucas.

“No
question,” I said with absolute certainty.  “Just like I would if he had called
me.”

Katie
nodded, understanding the bond that forms between soldiers in combat.  They may
not hang out and spend time together once they go back to the real world but
they never forget the man they fought beside.

“Sir?” 
Jessica said over the phone.  “I’ve got him on the line.  Stand by and I’ll
bring him on then drop off so you have some privacy.”

“Thank you,
Petty Officer.”

There were
several clicks, a moment of loud humming, then an open circuit.  I could hear a
baby crying in the background.

“Lucas?”

“John? 
Bloody hell, is that really you, mate?”  Lucas’ Aussie strine had gotten
stronger since the last time I’d talked to him and I had to listen close to
understand what he was saying.

“It’s really
me, Lucas.  Is that number three I hear crying?”

“That would
be number four.  My first boy!  His name is John.  Hold on, it’s the middle of
the bloody night here and the handy woke him up.  Let me step out so I can hear
you.”  He was almost shouting to be heard over the baby crying.

“He named
his son after you?”  Katie asked.

“Guess so. 
His first three are girls, so…”

“I’m here,
mate.  Where are you?  Are you OK?”  It was much quieter on his end and I could
hear the concern in his voice.

“Long story,
Lucas, and I don’t have time.  I’m racing like hell across Kansas at the moment
with a couple of Russian helos heading my way.  I’m pretty sure they want me,
and want to take my wife.”  I said, wanting to tell him more but there was just
too much to the story and not enough time to tell it right now.

“What can I
do?”  He asked.

“There’s a
CIA listening post in Western Australia,” I said.  “I don’t know its location
but I’m betting you can find it with one phone call.”

“Aye. 
Probably.  What’s there?”

“A CIA
analyst named Steve Johnson.  I don’t have proof but all the signs point to him
betraying me to the Russians in exchange for them grabbing my wife and turning
her over to him.  It’s a long story and I’m sorry I don’t have time to tell it
all to you.”

“Like I
asked, mate.  What do you want me to do?”

“Find the
station and get hands on this guy.  Find out if I’m right.  He could still be
feeding them intel.  If I’m right, I need the problem solved.”  I didn’t need
to spell out for Lucas what I was really asking him to do.

“Consider it
done.  I’ll call some of my mates at Swanbourne.  If you’re right, this isn’t
just personal.  This tosser is going to have an issue for consorting with the
enemy during time of war.”  Swanbourne is a suburb of Perth in Western
Australia and the location of the SASR barracks.

“Thank you,
Lucas.  Write this number down.  It’s my sat phone.  I’m about to be in a world
of shit but you might be able to reach me on it.”  I read the number off the
back of the phone to him.

“No worries,
mate.  You watch your arse!  And if you can get out of there there’s more than
enough room here for you and the missus.  You’re always welcome.  Little John
needs to meet Big John.”  He said the last with a laugh and broke the
connection.

Katie was
uncharacteristically quiet after the phone call ended.

“Thinking
about Steve?”  I asked gently.

“No.  If he
did this, he deserves whatever happens to him.  I was actually thinking about
what you told me about when you were in Africa with Lucas.  How the hell did
you sleep at night after that?”

“For a long
time I didn’t.”  I answered, sounding more defensive than I intended and remembering
one of the reasons I don’t talk about things I’ve seen and done.

“I don’t
mean what you did.  I mean what you saw being done to those people.”  Katie
leaned towards me and placed her hand on the back of my neck.  “I’m glad you
did what you did.  Glad there are people like you and Lucas in the world to
protect the rest of us from the monsters.  There are some people in this world
that are so thoroughly evil they need to be removed from the human race. 
What’s the quote you told me once?  About war not ever being good?” 

“War is
never good, but there are things that are worse than not going to war?”

“That’s the
one,” she said, gently squeezing my neck before leaning back into her seat. 
“Who said that?”

“Someone
who’s been there,” I said.

“Sir, that’s
your best option,” Jessica said over the sat phone several minutes later.

She had
called with an update on the Russian helos.  There was no doubt they were in
pursuit as they were changing direction to stay on an intercept course as I
continued north.

“How much
farther and how far behind me will they be when I get there?”  I asked.

“Forty miles
to the edge of town.  You’ll arrive in about eighteen minutes at your current
speed.  They’ll be half an hour behind you.”  She said after a few moments of
furious typing.

“What’s the
target’s status?”  I asked.

“Heavy
weather, sir.  I can’t get visual and thermal can’t penetrate the cloud
layer.”  She answered without having to look.

Damn it!  I
had no doubt Rachel was in dire straights, if she hadn’t already succumbed to
the weather or wildlife.  And now I was going to have to run and hide from the
fucking Russians.  I could keep pushing on, but I’d have to stop for fuel soon
and they had the speed advantage.  There was no doubt they would eventually
catch me and I had much better odds of survival if that didn’t happen on the
open road.

I had asked
Jessica to run several scenarios for me and there was only one that didn’t end
with Katie, Dog and I being in the middle of nowhere when the Russians caught
up.  If that happened I could either keep driving while they hovered overhead
and shot us to pieces, or pull over and give up.  Either option was
unacceptable.

So I’d
picked door number three.  A slight detour to Dodge City.  It wasn’t much of a
town, not very large, but plenty large for Katie and I to find a hiding place. 
Maybe the Russians wouldn’t look too hard.  Maybe.  Regardless, if I had to
fight it gave us a chance we didn’t have on the open road.

“Jessica,
how far behind me is the Bradley,” I asked, hoping I might get a break and it
wouldn’t be that far back.

“Hours,
sir.  They’re cutting cross country, saving a lot of miles by not following the
road, but they’re barely making forty miles an hour.”  I could hear her
keyboard clicking again.  “Currently I put their earliest arrival in Dodge City
at eight hours from now.”

“Not good
enough,” I said, thinking.  “Can you tell if the Russians have eyes on me from
a satellite?  How are they tracking me?”

There was
quiet for a few moments then a male voice I hadn’t heard before blared over the
Dodge’s speakers.

“Major
Chase, this is Lieutenant Hunt.  I’m Petty Officer Simmons CO.  She’s read me
in on what’s going on and I’ve been working on the problem you just asked
about.  The Russians have three LEO satellites still in operation despite the
EMP.  We have identified these as the source of the transmission that is
attracting the infected, but none of them have optics on board.  At this time
I’m working on the assumption that somehow the Russians are piggybacking on our
signal, but haven’t yet been able to identify how they’re doing it.”  A LEO
satellite is one that is in Low Earth Orbit, which is between 100 and 1,200
miles above the surface.

“Have you
checked CIA access into our bird?”  I asked, thinking about Steve.

“CIA?  No,
but they wouldn’t necessarily be accessing the satellite unless they were
trying to re-task it.  We broke the encryption so the feed is open to anyone
that can get onto the Echelon network.  Do you know something?” 

Echelon is a
fully hardened and redundant, self-supporting fiber optic network that is
shared by all of the US military and intelligence agencies.  It was designed to
survive any attack, up to and including nuclear war.  Put into operation in the
post 9/11 world, where the sharing of data was paramount, it was the most
expensive communications and data sharing system ever built.

“Can you
isolate the feed from the satellite so only you can see it?  I think there’s a
problem in Australia, but I’ve already got someone working on it.”

“Petty Officer
Simmons says she can’t stop the stream from going into Echelon.  That’s how
we’re getting to it and if she shuts it down we go blind.  But, we may be able
to encrypt the data so we’re the only ones that can use it.  Regardless, it
won’t be fast.  Not fast enough.”  He said after a long pause to consult with
Jessica.

“Tell the
Petty Officer I have faith in her and my ass is in her hands, Lieutenant.” 

“Yes, sir. 
Good luck to you.”  With a click and a beep the connection dropped.

“Dodge
City,” Katie said.  “That was one hell of a rough town in the 1800s.  Hope you
don’t have visions of some high noon style showdown with the Russians.”

“I was
actually thinking I’d be a tad more subtle than that,” I said, slowing to
negotiate a gentle curve in the road before resuming our full speed pace.

The time to
the edge of Dodge City went by quickly.  We had been driving through miles upon
miles of monotonous grasslands and suddenly crested a gentle rise and saw the
outskirts of town.  A couple of gas stations and the ubiquitous McDonald’s were
the first things we flashed past.

I stepped on
the brakes and lowered our speed as we progressed.  A “Welcome to Dodge City”
sign was on the right edge of the pavement and it said the population was
27,541.  Not a lot of people and not a lot of city to support them.

There were
no high rises, no large parking garages, nothing like I would have preferred to
be able to use to hide.  Everything was single or two stories, except for one
six story building that not surprisingly was a bank.  Everything looked old,
but then I supposed it should.

“Ideas?” 
Katie asked, looking around as I drove towards the downtown area. 

The change
in noise and motion from the lower speed had roused Dog from his slumber and he
sneezed twice, getting me squarely on the side of the face with his second
one.  I wiped his snot off with a grimace and rubbed it onto my pants.

“Not any
good ones,” I said.  “If they’re watching us on satellite they’ll see wherever
we stop and will be able to direct the helos right to us.  That, and it’s the
middle of the fucking day.  I’d much rather have the cover of night.”

“Quit
whining,” Katie grinned at me.  “You’re worrying about the problems and not
thinking about the solutions.”

Bitch!  But
she was right.

“Call
Jessica,” I said a moment later, turning onto the street that ran in front of
the bank building.  It was marked as Second Avenue.

“Yes, sir?” 
Jessica answered on the second ring.

“Please tell
me you’re close to locking the Russians out.  It’s hard to play hide and seek
when they’re peeking.”  I said.

“Close,
sir.  Hold on,” she said. 

I could hear
her working, breathing heavily into the phone, which I pictured mashed between
her ear and shoulder while she pounded on the keyboard.  This went on for some
time and I drove past the bank without slowing and kept going.  Ahead a sign
pointed towards a state highway and I took the turn and accelerated.

“What are
you doing?”  Katie asked, surprised as I continued to pick up speed.

“Leaving a
false trail,” I said.  “When they lose imagery I don’t want us to have been
leisurely driving around town.  That’s where they’ll start looking for us.  If
we’re driving like hell out of town when the feed scrambles, they’ll think
we’re still going in that direction.”

“You’re
smarter than you look,” Katie said, patting me on the leg.

We were
passing a sign that thanked us for visiting Dodge City, our speed approaching
100 when Jessica came back on the line.

“Got it,
sir!”  She shouted.

I slammed on
the brakes and as the car slowed, spun the wheel and skidded through a
180-degree turn.  Flooring the accelerator, I roared back into town heading for
the bank building.  As we’d passed through I’d noted a lot of cars in the
area.  Some neatly parked and others crashed into each other or into the
buildings that lined the street.  It shouldn’t be hard to hide the Dodge
amongst them.  Driving fast, we were back on Second Avenue in minutes.

“How long do
I have, Jessica?”

“Fifteen
minutes until they’re overhead, sir.  And just so you’re aware, I don’t know
how long it will take them to break the encryption I just put on the stream. 
It could be half an hour or days.”  She said.

“Will you
know when they break in and be able to give me a heads up?”

“Yes, sir.” 
She said.

“Thanks. 
Gotta run now.”  I said, steering the Charger into the midst of a three-vehicle
crash that involved a city bus and two pickups.  Pushing in, I stopped when the
front bumper nudged the side of the bus.

“Good luck,
sir.  I’ll be watching if you need me.”