Voodoo Plague - 01 (26 page)

“Captain, you
and your men are dismissed.  Leave your vehicle.”  The Colonel remained facing
me and didn’t see the look of disdain he received from Captain Roach, and a
second later the look of hatred I received.

“Yes, sir!” 
Roach snapped out and turned to depart with his men. 

“Thank you for
your hospitality, Captain.”  I was surprised to hear the barb come from Rachel,
and wasn’t surprised to hear the rebuke she received from the Colonel.

“Knock that shit
off, ma’am.”  He barked, still maintaining eye contact with me.  He stood rock
still until we heard a door slam at the back of the hangar, then relaxed and
extended his hand to me.

“Jack Crawford,”
He said.  I liked him immediately.  A full bird Colonel that can introduce
himself without feeling the need to include his rank was my kind of officer.

“John Chase,” I
said, taking the offered hand.  “Thank you for that.”

He waved it away
and stepped over to introduce himself to Rachel and even bent to give Dog an
ear scratch after getting an approving sniff of the back of his hand.  Noticing
Anderson and Mayo for seemingly the first time he told them to stand easy –
meaning they could relax as much as possible with a Colonel in their presence –
then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered them around before lighting
up.  I was the only taker and cigarettes burning we wandered over to the Hummer
where he leaned on the front fender as we talked.

Colonel Crawford
commanded the 5
^th
Special Operations Group (SOG) based at Fort
Campbell, Kentucky.  Most of his operators were deployed when the attacks came
and were now on hold where they were until the remnants of the government
decided how best to punish our attackers.  He happened to be transiting through
Arnold AFB on a flight from a secure government facility when he heard about
our inbound flight.  Curiosity got the best of him and he came to see who we
were.

I told him my
story, or at least the highlights. 

“When did you
serve?”  He asked.  Not, ‘did you serve’.  Even now I guess I wore the look
that was obvious to another soldier.  I told him and gave the generic answer
when asked about my MOS – Military Occupational Specialty – of 11B or
infantryman.  Technically that was true as I had started out as an infantryman
before applying and being accepted first into Ranger School then progressing
from there.  My clothing covered tattoos that would have answered his questions
in more detail so I felt OK giving the answer.  I didn’t know why I wanted to
stay under the military’s radar, but something was telling me to play it low
key.

He was also
curious about Rachel and I evaded the questions as best I could, not wanting to
go into the details of what she had been through.  Standing close to us
listening, Rachel got the idea, stepped forward and linked her arm through
mine.

“Put it this
way, Colonel.  We’ve been together since we met at his hotel in Atlanta.”  She
gave a coy smile, leaned her head onto my shoulder and let him draw whatever
conclusion he wanted.  I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes but he
apparently decided to let it go for now.

“OK then,” He
pushed off from the fender and stood up straight.  “We should get you checked
in with the intel guys so you can get them taken care of then get some chow and
some rest.  Hop in.”  He gestured at the Security Forces Hummer with his thumb,
waved Anderson and Mayo over and climbed behind the wheel.

Colonel Crawford
drove straight to a large building on the far side of the base, parking in a
spot reserved for a Major somebody.  The four story building was substantial
looking as most buildings on military installations are, built of all red brick
with a concrete porch running the full width of the front of the building. 
Heavy Roman style columns painted a gleaming white supported the four story
high roof that extended out over the porch.  All the windows were dark and as
we got closer it was obvious they were covered on the inside with blackout
curtains.

Two Air Force
MPs – oops – stood on either side of the front entrance.  They snapped to
attention when the Colonel was close enough for them to see his uniform in the
dark, then one of them stiffly reached out and held the door open for us. 
Crawford strode into the dark vestibule either like he owned the place or he
was attacking it, I wasn’t quite sure which, waited for all of us to enter the
building and the door to close behind us then brushed aside the blackout
curtain and led us down a brightly lit hall.

He stopped at an
unmarked door that was closed and locked, knocked loudly and stood waiting. 
The impatience fairly oozed out of him and as soon as the door started to open
he pushed through waving for us to follow.  The room was actually a series of
large rooms connected together and was well staffed even at this hour. 

Anderson and
Mayo were met by an Air Force Master Sergeant who led them down a long hall
that opened up to our left.  He placed each of them in separate rooms that
opened off the hall then returned to gather us.  Rather than straight to an
interview room he led us to his desk where we were each asked to place our
right hand on a palm reader that sat on the edge of the desk and connected to his
PC via a long USB cable.

Rachel went
first, the device scanning her hand and fingerprints in only a few seconds,
then it was my turn.  With a sigh I rested my right hand on the backlit glass
plate and the machine flashed green when it had read my hand.  Crawford stood
behind us, waiting patiently now, as the intel clerk stared at his monitor
waiting for the results.

“Ms. Miles,
welcome to Arnold Air Force Base.”  He said when the system returned data on
her scan.  I wondered how many databases the military was tied into now. 
Probably everything.

“Thank you,”
Rachel gave him her best smile and he blushed slightly before focusing back on
his monitor.  Almost two full minutes later he blinked in surprise and looked
up.

“Colonel, his
data is classified above my clearance.  You’ll need to enter your
credentials.”  He stood up, gave me a questioning look and moved far enough
away that he couldn’t see the monitor.

Crawford came
around and sat in the empty chair, looked away in thought for half a second
then typed in what I assumed was a user ID and password.  He then stood and
turned the palm reader towards him, placed his right hand on it and hit a
button on the keyboard with his left index finger.  When the light glowed green
he sat back down and stared at the monitor.  And stared some more, then
scrolled with the mouse and stared some more.  Apparently satisfied with the
results he clicked the mouse a few times and nodded to the clerk who returned
to his desk.

“Ranger, Green
Beret, assigned to Operational Detachment Delta.  Saw action in Afghanistan,
East Germany, Honduras and Nicaragua with a whole string of missions that are
classified even higher than my clearance.  Infantry my ass.  I didn’t think
so.”  He said and I could only offer a grin in response.

“You’re Delta
Force?” The clerk blurted out, then slammed his mouth shut and busied himself
with his computer when Crawford gave him a look that could freeze iron.

“I hope you’re
still going to be able to grin after I tell you this,” Crawford smiled.  “The
President has ordered the recall of all former military personnel with no
exceptions granted.  Welcome back to the US Army, Master Sergeant.”

What a bag of
dicks!

Loving the adventure?  Crucifixion: Voodoo Plague Book 2 is
available now on Amazon.  Please visit my author page at
www.amazon.com/author/dirkpatton
to find it as well as Rolling Thunder: Voodoo Plague Book 3.  Red Hammer, the
fourth book in the series is slated for release in the fall of 2014.  Thank you
for reading!

     Like many people these days I’m a fan of apocalyptic
fiction and am an avid reader and watcher of all things zombie or zombie-like. 
I used to work for a company that required my travel to the Atlanta area and
the hotel and swampy marsh described early in the book really exist just as
described.  In fact I got the idea for this book while staying at the hotel
when I got up one morning, looked out the window and saw a thick layer of mist
laying on top of the water.  Two locals, wearing waders and carrying long poles
(I never found out what they were doing) were moving slowly through the thigh
deep water looking for something, and their resemblance to shambling zombies
was downright eerie.

     I’ve read too many books and watched too many TV shows
and movies where the writers, at least for my taste, spent way too much time
padding their word counts with unnecessary descriptions, dialogue and
flashbacks.  I wanted to tell a fast paced story and drop in nuggets of detail
along the way, hopefully ending up with one of those books that you just have
to see what happens next, over and over, until you look at the clock and its
waaay
past your bedtime.

     I also wanted to introduce an element of the very
dangerous world we live in.  A world where the population is quickly starting
to outpace our planet’s ability to support us, and one in which I am fairly
confident the next major global conflict will be fought over our dwindling
natural resources.  Could it happen?  Perhaps not flesh eaters created by a
chemical weapons, but aren’t they fun?!

     For those readers that are familiar with the Atlanta
area you will recognize some of the locations described and you won’t recognize
others.  I’ve taken a lot of liberties with different locations, changing them
as necessary to make the story work.  Anything that is not accurate is
completely intentional.

     Thank you for reading Voodoo Plague, and if you enjoyed
it I would very much appreciate your positive review on Amazon.  You can also follow
me at Facebook.com/FearThePlague and email me at
[email protected]
.  I would love
to hear what’s on your mind. 

Dirk Patton December, 2013