“They keep the good stuff locked up.” She said. Tony produced another duffle bag from his gear.
Thirty-Two
Alexandra watched the back of Richardson’s helmet move slowly from side to side as he peered through the viewports while scanning the foliage below. She now wore an auxiliary pair of intercom headphones that the pilot pointed out before their last takeoff. Though the conversation was sparse, she found herself reassured to be back “in the loop.” The creepy mercenary named Reiss no longer sat across from her but now in her row and separated by two other men. Alexandra wasn’t surprised to remember that Reiss was the court-martialed soldier; he certainly looked the part. With his slimy gaze no longer on her and her communication restored, Alexandra felt a little more relaxed.
They flew at a high altitude to maximize their view of the winding mountain road. At this height they were able to cover miles of road in minutes. Denkinger’s voice came on the intercom.
“Contact, half a mile ahead; silver Dodge. Hover for fast rope insertion.”
In moments the Blackhawk had descended and was hovering forty-feet over Lance’s truck.
“What do you think Royce?” Richardson said into his headphone microphone.
“No contacts,” said Denkinger while lowering his binoculars. He motioned to Reiss who stood and met him at the door, “Preparing to descend.”
“Negative,” Richardson ordered, “Set her down.” He motioned to the pilot who craned his neck surveying the area and brought the helicopter down thirty yards away. Denkinger shook his head but didn’t argue.
Alexandra watched the men fan out in all directions while Denkinger moved to the truck. The soldiers secured the area while the chopper’s blades slowed. Lewis and Reiss flanked Richardson, meeting him as he exited the co-pilot’s door. She stood and removed her headphones grimacing at the engine noise and swirling dust and stepped down from the chopper.
The front end of the Dodge canted to the left, its wheel caught in a deep gully like a great silver beast, collapsed in the sand from thirst. Denkinger crouched and turned his head slowly from side to side, examining the area. Men moved with guns drawn, ready to deliver round after round of destruction should any threat appear. Two men at the passenger’s side door shouted, almost in unison, drawing their commander’s attention. He flashed a hand upwards to Reiss, who put his arm out in front of Richardson, stopping him. Denkinger moved quickly to the passenger’s side of the Dodge and pressed his hand to his throat, engaging his communicator.
Lewis suddenly trotted to Denkinger and produced a small hand-held device. Reiss remained with Richardson and signaled with his hand that they should keep their distance. Alexandra couldn’t see inside the cab of the truck from her position; the windshield appeared to be covered with dried mud from the inside. The medic appeared to be finished with his device and shook his head. Denkinger nodded and said something to the man who then jogged back to Richardson. Denkinger did not look happy.
“Sir,” The medic said, “Two deceased individuals that do not match your son’s vitals or reported distinguishing marks. “
“Are you positive?” Richardson barked.
“Yes sir, according to the information provided, age, height, weight, hair, dental records, and even notable moles, neither of these bodies fit the description.” Lewis replied.
“What happened here?” Richardson squinted.
“The driver sir, he opened up with a shotgun, killing these two. They appeared to be infected.” Lewis added, “There is a foot trail that leads back this way, away from the camp. The commander says he can follow it”
“I knew it.” Richardson said, “My son’s a survivor!”
The medic nodded.
Richardson began to approach the Dodge. Reiss looked at Lewis who spoke.
“Its pretty bad sir, you may not want to see that.”
“Nonsense, it’s my boy’s first kill,” He smiled with such pride that Alexandra felt a wave of revulsion, “Let’s have a look.” Richardson finished and strode to the Dodge. Reiss accompanied him leaving Alexandra and the Medic alone. Their departure gave Alexandra an opportunity to ask the medic a question.
“Remind me, do active military medics carry weapons or are they prohibited by the Geneva Convention.” She asked.
“Yes Ma’am, we are armed. A pistol usually, it allows us to carry more medical supplies.” He answered.
“And the red-cross, I notice you don’t wear one.”
“No Ma’am,” he smiled, “That just makes a better target for the enemy.”
She nodded. An awkward silence fell for a moment. She took a step forward.
“So, it’s pretty bad in the truck.” She asked.
“Yes Ma’am, very much so. It’s not the kind of thing you can un-see.”
“Where’d all the mud on the windshield come from?” she asked taking a step backwards.
“Mud?” Lewis shook his head.
“On the inside of the glass. How’d it get in there?” she asked slowly as if realizing the answer.
“That’s not mud,” he said quietly, “That’s brain matter.”
*****
The party gathered around the door, Mason in the lead and Nikki and Tony in the rear. The uncirculated air was thick with tension and the smell of stagnant sprinkler water. Mason placed his hand on the door-lever.
“Okay, everyone knows the layout. The only thing we have to worry about is a bunch of those things hanging out to the left side of the big hallway. But that’s not a problem because we’re going right.”
“What do you mean; a bunch?” Denise asked.
“When we came in; they were making a lot of noise, but it’s around the corner, if we move…” Mason spoke until cut off by Denise.
“Oh Jesus.” She put a hand to her worried forehead, “Oh God, no.”
“What is it?” Andy asked.
“The nursery.” Her eyes were wide and pleading in the beam of Tony’s flashlight. “There must still be a newborn in there. They’re trying to get into the nursery!”
Mason removed his hand from the door and slowly walked back into the shelved area.
“We’ve got to do something.” Said Nikki. Tony nodded to her but didn’t speak. Gabe approached Denise.
“How far up the hall is the nursery?” Gabe asked.
“Not far. There’s a hallway to the right. The first door is a teaching room, after that it’s the big viewing windows and the nursery.”
“Forget it,” Mason said, “if there were a kid in there, it couldn’t survive three days without food.”
“The room is always staffed; its procedure.” Denise said shaking her head, “An infant can never be left alone, not even for a minute. There must be a nurse in there with it. They have formula for the babies so it couldn’t have starved… yet.”
“Look,” said Mason moving back out from the shadows, “We don’t have time for this shit. We came to get the meds for the lady. She needs them now.”
The room was silent. Mason waited for a response then moved to the door. He opened it and exited. Gabe, Billy, Andy and Denise followed into the waiting area. Nikki grabbed Tony’s arm and gave him an urgent expression.
“I know; I’m thinking.” He said looking up at the solid concrete ceiling. “Wait a sec… You have a radio right?”
She nodded. Tony took her by the arm and led her out to the waiting area. He stepped up onto the counter nearest the wall and pushed the ceiling tile upwards. Scanning the attic area with his flashlight he saw that the open space above the tiles extended all the way over where the nursery should be. Jumping back down, he rummaged through his duffle bag, producing Margaret’s prescription.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mason growled with a whisper.
Tony tossed him the small paper bag. “It’s the nice lady’s pills. I’m gonna go check out the nursery.”
“Bullshit.” said Mason while edging closer. Tony handed Andy the duffle bag.
“Use the yellow Bronco. Cutie has the keys.” He said and jumped back up on the counter, securing his shotgun strap over his shoulder. Nikki pulled a set of keys from her pocket and handed them to Denise, while quickly climbing on the counter as well.
“Cutie’s coming with you.” She said.
“No, stay with them and I’ll call you on my radio.” He said.
“You said to stick with you.” She said meeting his eyes directly, “Someone’s gotta back you up.”
“Sanchez, don’t be stupid.” Mason ordered.
“I’m not gonna leave a kid like that.” Tony tossed his radio to Denise, “keep that on channel one. We’ll let you know what we find.”
Tony grabbed onto the wall area where he had pushed away the tile, tested its strength, and lifted himself up onto the attic beams, struggling to hold in a grunt. Nikki slung her rifle over her back and had to jump to get her hands on the top of the wall. Tony reached down and helped pull her up.
Jack Mason watched the couple disappear into the ceiling.
“Let’s go,” he said angrily and led the rest out of the room.
Thirty-Three
Veronica watched her patient sleeping. The old woman’s breath was deep and slow but it didn’t seem labored. She felt her wrist and found a faint pulse. Veronica held on to Margaret’s small bony hand and feared for how cold it was. She knew that the cold was brought on by lack of peripheral circulation. Veronica gently rubbed her hands over Margaret’s to warm it and placed the woman’s hand down level on the bed to better allow her blood flow. Tucking the woman’s hand under her covers, she noticed an old lace trimmed handkerchief underneath. Veronica took the fine bit of cloth and saw that it was embroidered with the letter M. M for McCormack, she assumed. She held the handkerchief and thought that not only did it look very old, but it had a distinct smell to it, an old after shave smell. Margaret stirred for a moment. Veronica tucked the covers in tightly around her patient making sure to keep her warm.
Veronica looked around the room but didn’t see a clock. She thought it must be almost one in the afternoon by now. She hoped that the boys could get in and out of the hospital quickly and safely. She had to have faith that her friends would show up soon with the prescription. In a way she wished that she was with them to help out but her task was to watch over the woman and try to keep her stable. Margaret moaned quietly as small beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Veronica dabbed at her patient’s face with the handkerchief and whispered to the woman.
“Its okay Ma’am, everything’s going to be all right.”
Margaret settled down and the sweating quickly subsided. Veronica patted the lady’s face dry and saw the woman’s eyes begin to shutter rapidly back and forth underneath her closed eyelids indicating a deep dreaming sleep. Veronica breathed a little easier knowing that REM sleep meant that her patient was deeply relaxed.
“Come on guys, hurry up.” Veronica whispered.
Margaret rocked back and forth in the sun while seated in her favorite rocking chair on the back porch of her home. Her infant son Michael, not yet three months old and bundled up tightly after a fresh bath, slept soundly in her arms. She hummed the last bars of a quiet tune that had lulled her boy to sleep. Looking at his small perfect head with his little perfect nose twitching, Margaret thought that it was good he was sleeping now. There was a big day ahead for the little child and many people were on their way to see him. She looked out over her back yard. The long tables were set and covered, their surfaces adorned with plates, flatware, and empty buckets awaiting ice for drinks. Al had hung a banner that read, ‘Happy Birthday Margie,’ from the two apple trees in their yard. It was Margaret’s birthday party and many of their guests would also be meeting Michael for the first time.
Footsteps approached and a woman in a bright yellow dress wearing a white apron exited the back door. She was one of the neighbors who had been enlisted by her husband to help out; a beautiful tall young girl with lovely dark hair. She smiled warmly at Margaret and then to the sleeping infant.
“Would you like some more juice?” the woman whispered.
Margaret smiled and shook her head. She was warm from the sun on her porch but not parched in the slightest. She felt odd that she couldn’t remember the girl’s name but was completely comfortable with her using her kitchen, as if the girl was a trusted friend.
“Where’s Al?” Margaret whispered.
Heavy footsteps approached from the kitchen and her husband appeared in his Air Force dress uniform, his hair firmly held down by Pomade, and his shoes polished for a dress inspection. He smiled, hooked a thumb under his belt and tugged it away, revealing an inch or so of free space.
“Look honey, my Class A still fits,” he said smiling. He made a comical shocked face when he realized that their child was asleep and then put his finger to his mouth as if to shut himself up.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
Margaret smiled and looked at Michael who only cooed slightly and nuzzled in closer towards his mother.
Such a good boy
, she thought. Al handed the girl in the yellow dress their Brownie Hawkeye camera. The girl took it and nodded.
“I want to get a picture with us before everyone else shows up.” He said with the child-like enthusiasm that she had grown to love. The girl took the camera and looked down into its viewing glass while Al did his best to tip-toe behind Margaret. He set his strong hand on her shoulder and she could smell his Old Spice after-shave. His touch was warm and reassuring.
“Who’s getting the ice?” Margaret asked while the girl aimed the camera.
“I got the boys on it, Honey. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He squeezed her shoulder causing her heart to race like a school-girl’s at the sight of an unrequited crush. He leaned down and kissed her quickly on the cheek bringing with him again a waft of his scent. She loved the smell of her husband.
“Almost there…” the girl said, “Smile.”
“Thank you for this.” Margaret whispered through her smile.
“I love you Margie.” He whispered back through his.
Such a wonderful man
, she thought as the bulb on the Brownie flashed a brilliant burst of blinding light. Spots danced before her eyes and she leaned her cheek down onto his hand. She heard voices from the yard gate, voices of her parents and other guests arriving.
Today is going to be absolutely perfect
.