The White Death (20 page)

“John, open them up,” said Marina to the one they affectionately called the “gatekeeper.”

The doors slid open, and the stiflingly hot desert heat hit them without mercy. Section 51 was so temperate with wet moistened air.

“My dear,” said Marina, putting on sunglasses, “good luck.”

“Thank you,” said Ursula. While Marina went back down to Section 51, Ursula knew it was time to bite the bullet and begin the mission. Running to the jet, she was helped up the stairs by two burly members of the SWAT team assigned for her protection.

“Commander Nelson?” said Ursula to the strong-looking soldier. In typical military fashion, the soldier didn’t reply, instead pointing toward the younger one with neat black stubble walking towards her.

“Professor Barrington,” said Commander Johnathon Nelson.

“Commander,” said Ursula. She chastised herself for automatically assuming the older one in the group was the leader. Nelson’s sharp square jaw accentuated the occasional deep scar. She knew this body had seen its fair share of abuse.

“Have a seat,” said Nelson.

“Commander, what’s the status of Japan?” She was glad to find a large conference table onboard and quickly took a seat with her folders opened. The rest of the SWAT team joined them.

“Preparing to engage supersonic engines,” said the pilot.

“Japan? Status?” said Ursula again.

“Our intelligence shows that the country is stable,” said Nelson. “They’ve been shooting down planes and blowing up boats since China collapsed. We’ve even detected some bombing along the coast of China closest to Japan.”

“Only sensible,” said Ursula. She continued to scan her notes, reading the more detailed reports available to both her and the commander. “Possible infection chances?”

“Certain,” said Nelson. “We just don’t know when. Hours, days, or weeks.”

“It could happen in the next second,” said Ursula. “That’s why we must move quickly and without hindrance, Commander.”

“We’ll get you there, Professor.”

“Can I ask,” she said, taking her glasses off and looking around at the team, “why you all volunteered for this assignment? My report says you demanded to undertake it.”

The plane began a sharp momentary ascent before regaining level.

“We prefer the difficult ones,” said Nelson. “We’re only considered the best of the best because we can do the difficult ones. The second we stop doing them, we’re no longer the best.”

His team all agreed, and Ursula could relate to them. While she wouldn’t call herself egotistical, she had always strived to achieve great things in her field of expertise. She’d found that having a reputation that preceded her was helpful in all sorts of situations.

“We are to do everything required to complete our mission,” said Ursula.

“Professor,” said Nelson. He looked at his team. “We are a black squad, which means we operate without official government oversight. We aren’t inhibited by politics and we don’t recognize foreign government jurisdiction. The completion of the mission is our only concern.”

“Then we’re going to get along just fine.” She’d worked with men of a similar capacity before in British Secret Services. “On to the mission itself. We have a Captain Rodgers in Japan, quarantined I believe?”

“Affirmative,” said Nelson. “Shall I arrange a stop-in visit once we reach Japan?”

“No,” said Ursula. “We’ve already dealt with the Japanese authorities, and they’re getting bloodwork over to Section … Nevada. Our first priority must be to find the suspected carrier. Ideally, I’d like to slip in without attracting any kind of attention. We believe this carrier to still be in the underground bunker at the Chinese State Department building.”

“Intelligence reports a possible bunker fifty meters below the building,” said Nelson.

“The department I work for,” said Ursula, without revealing the Section 51 name, “has been able to confirm this.”

“How?” asked Nelson.

“I can’t explain any further.”

They had forged Freda’s signature to get the starship in orbit to scan Beijing, confirming the existence of a reinforced bunker.

“Very well,” said Nelson, understanding the need for security. “How do we get into the bunker?”

“I’ve got a direct line to my department,” said Barrington, patting her briefcase. “Once we’re in the building, my organization will hack the security protocols. After that, down into the bunker.”

“And then?”

“Then, Captain, we pray that the Chinese have not executed this woman. She may hold the key to our very survival.”

“Arrival in one hour fifty-five minutes,” said the captain’s voice over the intercom.

“Right, men, strategy session now,” said Nelson. “I’m sure the doctor has plenty of notes to go over.”

Chapter 38

“Twenty cars just to get me to Congress,” said Thomas. If he hated one thing about being president, it was the inability to do anything quickly. Everything had to be planned to the tiniest detail.

“Public tension is too high, and we’ve violence across the city,” said Gail. The Secret Service didn’t want him to go to Congress at all, but he had overruled them.

“We need that vaccine,” said Thomas.

“Still no word from Section 51,” said Gail. Police cars came up each side of them, creating another layer of protection for the nation’s commander-in-chief. Politicians had been a target for attack since the newspaper article, with those in Congress requiring police escorts.

“This speech needs to pull the nation back from the brink,” said Thomas. He gripped the soft leather folder. “If it doesn’t, a vaccine might be worthless.”

“What?” said Gail.

“If society falls apart, a vaccine will be no use,” said Thomas. “We need to hold it together. Can someone get me an energy bar?”

Gail clicked her fingers to an aide.

“Washington could erupt at any time,” said Gail.

“You should see New York, Chicago, and Miami,” he replied, scrolling down the news feed on his phone. The military was struggling to keep civil order throughout the country. Future Mankind and Forward Together were battling each other in every town and city. He refused to look out the window now as the protestors increased their volume.

“I had better predictions for our first term,” said Gail. “You seem to be quite calm.”

Thomas smiled, but not of pleasure.

“I don’t have a choice,” he said. “If I don’t keep calm and try to guide the nation, who will? It’s during these times that dictators rise up. That’s why I’m making a point of going to Congress. Democracy must be maintained, and people need to see the government is still working.”

“Well, we always knew we wanted to make history,” said Gail. “Anyway, maybe Congress will go with you.”

He could only hope.

Chapter 39

“Keep it quiet,” said Barrington, only her face visible now as the body armor shielded everything it could. Their stealth helicopter maneuvered into position above the tall skyscraper in central Beijing. Even with the government fallen, it still was foreboding.

“Not what I expected,” said Nelson, chewing strawberry gum.

“What did you expect?” said Barrington. “A thriving metropolis?”

“It’s just so … bleak.”

“But very much alive,” she replied. The city was truly haunting. It was night, and with the electricity cut, they relied on the burning fires across the ghostly landscape for any kind of visuals.

“You mean the enemy,” said Nelson.

“I do,” said Barrington. “Give me an infrared scan, two kilometers outwards.”

“Scanning,” said Banza, the co-pilot.

“Death is in the air,” said Nelson. “I know that scent all too well, the smell of death, of burning flesh and terror.”

“And on the ground, sir,” said Banza.

“What’ve we got?” said Barrington. She continued to kneel at the open door of the chopper, looking toward the target.

“At least 300,000 within a 500-square-kilometer radius, mostly inside buildings.”

“Three hundred thousand?” gasped Nelson, turning to look at Banza.

“I expected more,” said Barrington. She thought they would flock together. “Much more.”

“I was hoping the dead would stay dead,” said Nelson. He signaled his men to get ready.

“Not one person down there bears any resemblance to the dead, Commander,” said Barrington. “And that might be our cross to bear on this mission. We need to keep it tight and keep it quiet. That, and a bit of luck, might see us through this mission.”

She took a quiet gulp, steadying her breathing. The armor reacted to her tension, seeking to counteract it with a smooth pulsating vibration.

“If they’re startled, what kind of resistance can we expect?” asked Nelson.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, taking a caffeine tablet. Unlike Peter, she refused to allow her body to become accustomed to more powerful stimulants. “We know little of their behavior when they have no one left to infect. They’re primitive humans now, and they’re indoors, seeking shelter from the cold night and full moon.”

She caught glimpse of a lone lion, its fabulous fiery-colored mane almost glowing in the dark. It strode down the abandoned road beneath them, and she couldn’t help but pity the beast. It had escaped the prison governments liked to call a zoo and now found itself in a brick and concrete city instead of the lush wild.

“Are you ready?” said Nelson. He turned to look at her, and she made sure to rise to the occasion.

“Commander, I didn’t travel all this way for nothing. Let’s get started.” She relocked her utility belt, just to be safe.

“Banza, Jacobs,” said Nelson, looking at the two pilots, “maintain a sharp outlook and keep us updated at all times. No firing without my orders. Everyone else, prepare for deployment.”

Barrington gave herself a once-over, checking everything was in place and tightly secured. She didn’t want anything flying off her mid-flight downwards. The pilots set up large sniper rifles as the chopper began to sway left and right in the wind.

“Don’t hit me by accident,” she said, eyeing the sniper rifles. Her night goggles fitted snugly against the smooth armor, giving her a detailed view of the city. It was hard to believe only a week ago it was the capital of the world’s third-most powerful country, and still the most populous.

“It won’t be by accident,” joked Nelson, and his team laughed. “Doctor, we can still land on the rooftop if you want.”

“No,” said Barrington. That was out of the question. She worried it would take just one infected to be startled before a herd effect came into play. The helicopter would be overrun before they knew what hit them. “I’ve fast roped plenty of times. Keep her steady, pilots. Let’s go!”

Nelson signaled to his team. They were to follow his lead. He always led by example. Flinging a thick braided nylon rope downwards, he waited for it to touch the rooftop. Seconds later, his tough army boots met solid concrete.

“Exhilarating,” said Barrington, landing beside him.

“I detest it,” said Nelson quietly, scanning the area with his night vision goggles. “For those few seconds, you’re at the mercy of everything. I can see you’ve done it before.”

“There’s not much I haven’t done,” she said. A single red door was their only entrance into the building from the rooftop. “It’s solid steel.”

“We can blow it off. Robinson,” said Nelson.

“Wait.” Barrington broke open the keypad at the side of the door and saw a small connection port. Withdrawing her travel-sized laptop, she linked the two together and connected with Section 51.

“Jim here,” came the muffled voice over the radio. Clearly he was eating. Peter had forewarned her that Section 51’s chief technologist was of the “grumpy” variety—and constantly eating.

“I need this door opened,” she demanded.

“Stand by.” Jim accessed the remote control systems on the laptop. The keypad wasn’t part of the main computer network, and therefore, the actual code would be stored in its memory buffer. He watched as the hacking program he designed made quick progress.

“Enter code 349991.”

“Opened,” said Barrington, packing away her laptop again.

“Anytime.” He closed the channel and took another slice of his double cheese and ham pizza.

“Efficient,” said Nelson. He’d escorted many VIPs before on secret missions, but the resources Barrington could call on surprised him.

“If we were more efficient, we might not be in this mess,” said Barrington. She’d tried not to think of the errors that had led humanity down this rotten path.

“What’d you mean?” he asked.

“Long story.” Barrington stood still, fearing to even breathe. Peering over the stairs downwards, she’d spotted a single infected with her night vision goggles. Late twenties, she was creeping her way up toward them, being careful to sniff and scout every nook and cranny on the way.

“Can she see us?” asked Nelson, switching his own goggles back on.

“I don’t think so,” said Barrington. “If she had, we’d know it.”

“Let’s attack her first then.” Nelson withdrew a medium-sized gun, equipped with a specialized silencer and accurate scope. He fired the bullet, impacting straight into her forehead with precision. She fell flat to the ground and, to Barrington’s relief, with little noise.

“Nobody move,” she said.

“Why?” asked Nelson.

“I want to make sure her falling didn’t arouse anything else…”

The team all stood together, looking down the long distance between themselves and the lifeless body, blood seeping out of it. They honed in on every sound, as they desperately wished for luck. Barrington kept saying to herself,
“Think good thoughts.”

“Why are the lights still on in some sections of the building?” said Nelson.

“Emergency generators, no doubt,” said Barrington. “This was a government building, after all. Let’s go.” She was quiet as a mouse, carefully taking one step at a time, down the metal staircases. Three flights down, an elevator offered to speed their task up.

“Which floor?” asked Nelson as they all piled in.

“Ground floor,” said Barrington, surprised. “It’s an underground bunker, Commander. I doubt it’s accessible from public elevators.”

“And the ground floor will be swarming with infected,” said Nelson. “We’ll have a stampede coming at us once the doors open.”

“We can’t spend the next hour carefully clinking down those stairs,” said Barrington, heating up with anger. She knew it was the tension of the situation; in this moment she realized just how warm it was. The six of them in the tiny lift, the tightness of their body suits. She closed her eyes for a second, cleansing herself of the aggravation.

“Fine,” said Nelson, pressing the G button.

They remained silent as the elevator began to move downwards.

“Hold on a sec,” she said, bashing the emergency stop button.

“Idea?” asked Nelson. She could tell he was hoping.

“Maybe.” Whipping out the laptop again, she contacted Section 51.

“Jim here.” He was still eating.

“Can you shut off all lights in the building?” she said.

“Why?” he asked, munching.

“Just do it,” she demanded.

“Fine.”

They all stood in the elevator, patiently waiting. Barrington could hear Jim crack open another can of lemonade and type away on his keyboard.

“Done—anything else?”

“A schematic of the building?” she said, knowing she was pressing her luck.

“I’m already ahead of you on that one,” said Jim. “What you’re looking for is in a secure room behind the main reception desk, and you guessed it—the reception desk is on the ground level facing the doors.”

“I’d never have guessed,” said Barrington.

“Yeah, well, in this room is an elevator shaft that leads down to an underground suite of rooms. Not much more detail than that, but it should be enough.”

“How do we operate the lift?” said Barrington, Nelson staring at her.

“Contact me when you arrive at it.”

“Friendly guy,” remarked Barrington. “We need to get to the reception offices on the ground floor. We’ve managed to turn all the lights off.”

“Okay,” said Nelson. “Men, keep it cool and controlled down here once these doors open.”

“Exactly,” said Barrington. “Tight formation, and whatever you do, don’t overreact. Frenzy is an understatement of what could face us.” She took time to look at each of them, wanting to make sure they understood how important this next step was. There was no backup mission or team. So much depended on them now, Alien help was not coming.

Nelson resumed the elevator and raised his assault rifle to eye level.

“If you do have to fire, use your silencers,” said Barrington. She armed her own small black pistol, not wanting to use it but prepared to if necessary. The doors opened to reveal a pitch-dark room. There was no light, and without night vision goggles, she’d have been blind.

“At least 100,” said Nelson.

“Agreed,” said Barrington, hushed.

“No reaction so far.” Nelson took a step out of the elevator.

“If we’re quiet, we might make it.” She could see the large banana-shaped reception desk, less than twenty meters away, soaked in dark blood. Pointing him in that direction, they proceeded in single file. Her ears, highly focalized thanks to her combat suit, picked up on the slightest sounds, which she found disturbing. The breathing of the infected—deep, hoarse, and phlegm-ridden—unnerved her.

“Are you seeing this?” said Nelson.

“I am,” she replied, her eyes taking everything in, the horrors that had been inflicted on anyone who fell to infection all too evident. Missing limbs, deep lacerations, teeth being spat out—it was all so harrowing. Most just stood quietly, staring into a dark oblivion, trying in vain to recover some part of their lost soul.

“So far so good,” said Nelson, but Barrington had stopped dead in her tracks, feeling him gently bump into her. She froze, like a rabbit caught in the headlights. An infected woman was heading straight toward her. She walked hunched over, sometimes dipping down onto all fours.

“No one do anything,” she whispered, pressing her back against the wall. There was nowhere to run. Nelson aimed to fire, but she calmly forced his gun down, hoping to avoid it.

“If your life is in danger, we’re firing,” said Nelson, uncompromising. “You’re the one person who can’t die on this mission.”

The infected woman came right up to her face, and it was only then Barrington saw the full horror of what the virus could do to someone. Her skin was peeling off, and both eyes had been gouged out, no doubt in battle with someone trying to escape her infectious wrath. The infected female sniffed along Barrington’s neck, taking a deep long breath before resting two hands on her chest. Nelson aimed his pistol again, right at her head.

“Keep calm,” said Barrington to herself, watching as this human, from a time long since passed, tried to work her out. Remaining completely emotionless was one of Barrington’s strong points and a trait she could activate at a moment’s notice. She simply stared right back at the infected female. Without warning, the infected took off, back to rejoin five others at the other side of the room.

“Interesting,” thought Barrington. Nelson lowered his pistol, relieved. He had had his other hand on the trigger of his assault gun, ready to launch a wave of bullets.

“Let’s keep moving,” he said. They made it into the reception offices without incident, and Barrington quickly began looking through the last reports and notes across the desks.

“You can read Chinese?”

“Clearly your intelligence reports don’t know everything,” said Barrington.

“Anything interesting?” he asked, checking other desk drawers.

“Just general reports. Troop deployments to the border region with Korea, preparations for evacuation of the Chinese president, etcetera.”

“I presume this is the door?” said Nelson, dimming his torch before switching it on. He shone it toward a single black door in the corner of the room, without a handle.

“It’s a clean lock, sir,” said his munitions expert.

“Doctor?”

Barrington switched on one of the computers and began looking through the directory. Nothing stood out for her. She knew she had to call Jim again.

“Barrington to Jim.”

“Hello again, Doctor,” said Jim. “We speak more than my wife and me.”

“Isn’t she lucky,” joked Barrington. “We’ve reached the central reception office and found the door.”

“But there’s no handle or big massive button saying ‘open sesame’?”

Barrington rolled her eyes. Why were most tech people she dealt with slightly warped? “Can you cut to the chase?”

“Well, it would help if you’d connect me to the work station. A simple USB connection should suffice.”

Working fast while the team kept guard, soon enough Jim had accessed the internal network for the Chinese Secret Services. To any other government department, this treasure trove of information would have been enough to salivate over and jump ten promotions in one day. To Jim, it was another task that had to be done quickly and quietly. International espionage was not one of Section 51’s objectives.

“It’s a secure underground medical facility, which probably means torture and interrogation,” said Jim.

“Don’t assume, Jim, don’t assume.”

“Yeah right,” he moaned. “The door has an automatic operating program that can be accessed from the very computer you are sitting at, but we’ll not pass comment on that.”

The elevator door slid open.

“Did you do that?”

“Of course, Doctor,” said Jim, as if she had asked the stupidest question he had ever heard.

“Thank you,” she replied, terminating the link. “Commander.”

The elevator was dark red with white spotlights, and it took only a few moments to reach the underground complex.

“Weapons,” ordered Nelson.

Barrington stood in the middle of the squad.

“Well, that’s unusual,” said Barrington. She had expected the worst and was for once pleasantly surprised. The area was calm, lit up, and perfectly clean.

“Be thankful for small mercies, Doctor,” reminded Nelson, stepping out.

“Those who believe in mercy, Captain, are those who end up being stabbed in the back,” said Barrington.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor?” Nelson directed his team to scout each room.

“A pragmatic one,” she said. There was only one corridor, with a dozen doors on each side. Every wall was made of transparent glass, allowing them to see no one was home. Treading carefully, Barrington saw computers and experiments still running. The Chinese had left in a hurry, no time even for an emergency shutdown.

“I’m not detecting any virus particles down here.” She checked the readings on her scanner twice. “But no one remove their masks. We’re taking no chances.” Walking along, they came to the primary lab.