Chapter Twelve
S harp opened his eyes to meet the gaze of the doctor who’d sewn him up. “Concussion, huh?” he asked quietly.
“A CT scan might take a few hours.” The doctor glanced around, then continued, “Marshall fully intends to prosecute Dr. Samuels for insubordination and all those other charges. I’ve tried to tell him she was correct in her assessment of the situation at the village, but when she went over his head, he took it personally. Then his men in the original patrol died and that cemented his opinion she’s at fault.”
“She thinks it’s some sort of super-anthrax,” Sharp told the doctor. “Fast-acting, and she thinks it might be in the air and water supply, but she isn’t sure.”
The doctor paled. “That’s not good.”
“No shit. Has Marshall done anything right since we left?”
“No. Some of your A-Team are still there. Cutter wanted to take the rest of the team out there, but Marshall ordered them to stand down.”
“Have you heard what the status is at the village?”
“Not in the last couple of hours.”
“Shit.” Sharp glanced at the bag of blood hanging over his head. It looked nearly empty. “I may not make that CT scan.”
“You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” the doctor said, as Sharp sat up.
He reached for the IV line, intending to yank it out. “Doesn’t matter, I’ve got a job to do.”
The doctor moved surprisingly fast. “I’ll do it. I don’t want you spilling all the blood we just poured into you.” He took out the IV line and put a bandage over the hole in the back of Sharp’s hand. The doctor ducked down and pulled something out of a box stored underneath the exam table and handed Sharp a bottle of electrolyte water. “Drink all of this before you leave the base, and eat something substantial or you’re going to fall over in a few hours.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Sharp said with a grin. He cracked open the bottle and drank several swallows. “Where’s the rest of my team?”
“After your aircraft disappeared, they moved their gear to a shack next to the helicopter landing area. I think in anticipation of going to that village, but Marshall told them to stay put and confiscated their SINGCAR radios when they tried to contact Colonel Maximillian.”
“They’re under arrest?” Sidelining an A-Team wasn’t what Sharp would call a smart move. They had their own orders to follow, and their own chain of command to keep in contact with.
“No, I would say they’re grounded to the base. No one is stopping them from going to the mess, chapel, or medical. They just can’t leave or call out.”
Sharp finished the bottle of water and stood. No dizziness, good. “Marshall is digging himself a deep hole.”
The doctor nodded. “Do yourself a favor and don’t jump in it with him.”
“I’ll try, Doc, but I’ve always been a curious fellow.” Sharp glanced down at himself. The medical people had cut his clothes off to get at his wounds. “Got anything I could wear?”
The doctor stepped out of the cubicle for a moment then returned with a set of scrubs and a lab coat.
“Good luck,” he said once Sharp was dressed. “I’d rather not have to sew you up again.”
“Me too. Thanks.” They shook hands. Then Sharp left the medical center and headed toward the landing field like he had an errand to run for someone important.
No one looked twice at him.
Bonus.
He entered the shack and found his team, their gear stowed near the door, ready to go, talking quietly as a group. “You lazy bums on a coffee break or something?”
Most people would have jumped to their feet, called out greetings and patted him on the back. These guys were too smart to do that. They all got to their feet with shit-eating grins on their faces, but not one voice rose in volume.
“About time you got here,” Cutter said, waving Sharp over. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I was on an all-expenses paid trip to the beach, but the food sucked, so I came home to this fabulous address.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, boss. We got shot down. Rasker and Williams didn’t make it.”
“What about the doc?” Cutter asked.
Sharp frowned. “You don’t know?”
“We’re out of the loop. Marshall won’t tell us jack-shit. His ass is going to be grass when the brass finds what a clusterfuck he’s whipped up here.”
“She survived the crash, too. We hauled ass to get back here as fast as we could, but it was close a couple of times. Marshall arrested her on a bunch of charges and has her in some brig somewhere on the base. She tried to tell him she has to get her samples to her lab, but Marshall isn’t having any of it. This shit is serious. If we don’t get it figured out soon, like twenty-four hours soon, a lot of people are going to die.”
“What do you mean?” Cutter asked.
“I mean, someone created the bug that killed everyone at the village. It kills fast and hard and everyone who’s been exposed to it has died. It’s one hell of a weapon.”
“Fuck me,” Runnel said.
“No thanks, you’re not my type,” Sharp said, and the moment of humor served to center everyone’s attention. “We have to bust Grace out of jail and get her wherever she needs to go.”
“Grace, huh?” Cutter said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hey, you bleed all over someone, you end up on a first-name basis.”
Cutter’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Really. I’d have her at my back any day.”
“You and her, huh, Sharp?” Runnel asked with a suggestive smile.
“Nah, facing death and dismemberment isn’t the time to make a move. She is, however, a hellacious good shot when she’s under fire.” The fact that he had made a move was beside the point. Grace was too good for all of them, including himself. “So, you guys want to bust her out, or what?”
Runnel grinned. “I vote yes. Can you imagine the look on Marshall’s face?”
Everyone else nodded their agreement, and Cutter turned to Sharp. “We’re a go. Why don’t you put on some real clothes? We’ll find you a weapon and some essentials.”
“Sounds good to me, boss.” He put actions to the words and was re-equipped and ready to go in a few minutes.
Runnel handed him a rifle case.
“What’s this?” Sharp asked. His rifle was in pieces at the crash site and Runnel’s was strapped to his back.
“It’s my backup rifle.”
“Wow, and all I brought was a backup Beretta.”
“Well, she’s not as shiny as the A-1 you were shooting, but she’s a good weapon. Accurate.”
“Thanks.” Sharp shook his teammate’s hand. “I’ll take good care of it.”
“Make sure you do. No dropping it out of an aircraft.”
“Ah, come on. It’s only happened once.”
“Cut the chatter, you two,” Cutter said. “Clark and Smoke, you two find us a helicopter we can steal. The rest of us will spirit the good doctor out of lockup. Ping me when you’ve found a bird.”
“Yes, sir,” Clark said, while Smoke nodded.
Cutter led the way, followed by Hernandez, March, Runnel, and Sharp. Sharp kept his head down, so his face wasn’t front and center. He was just one of the guys, no one special.
Marshall had set up some kind of brig in a prefab metal rectangular building. It was hot, the air smelled stale, and the walls and floors were a uniform gray color. Immediately to the right of the entrance was a hallway with several doors on either side.
An armed guard sat on a chair at either end of the hallway. None of the doors were open.
The guard at the door got to his feet real quick when Cutter walked in. “This building is off-limits.”
“You got that lady doctor stashed in here?” Cutter asked him.
“Prisoners are not allowed contact with anyone.”
Cutter snorted. “I’m not her lawyer. My guys and I are going to get thrown into the mess she left up north. I need to ask her two questions so we don’t get shot to shit when we land. That’s it.”
“The colonel said—”
Cutter cut him off. “I know what the colonel said. He was referring to her calling some bug expert who thinks the world revolves around him, not us getting intel from her. I’ve got to know how to protect my guys.”
The guard hesitated another second, glanced at the rest of their group, his gaze jumping from their obvious readiness, then back to Cutter’s face. He checked his watch. “Marshall should be back in ten minutes.”
“We’ve got to leave in five. That’s why we’re here now and not later with Marshall.”
The guard turned and nodded at the other one, then stepped aside. “Okay. She’s not talking to anyone, though.”
“I think she’ll talk to us.” Cutter smiled a shark’s smile at him. “Which door?”
“Second on the left.”
Cutter and Sharp went to the door while Runnel and Hernandez stayed behind with the first guard. March continued down the hall a little toward the second guard and leaned against the wall like he was bored.
Cutter opened the door, let Sharp in, then closed the door.
Grace had been lying on a narrow cot. She sat up and blinked owlishly at them. “What are you two doing here?”
She was fine. Just fine. Lying there like she was on vacation. No hysteria. No panic. Something raw and bloody inside Sharp healed over. “Breaking you out,” he answered.
Her jaw dropped open. “Are you nuts? Marshall will have both of you in handcuffs in the next room.”
“Don’t think so,” Cutter said. “There’s seven of us.”
“Besides,” Sharp added. “We’re planning on stealing a helicopter too.”
“God.” She flopped back on her cot, sighed, then said to the ceiling, “Someone left the bag of idiots open again.”
Cutter choked back a laugh.
“Is that any way to talk about your liberators?” Sharp asked.
Grace rolled her eyes. “It is when they’re about to do something supremely stupid.”
“There’s two kinds of stupid,” Sharp explained. “There’s dead stupid and live stupid. We’re the latter.”
She squinted at him. “I have no idea what you just said.”
“Never mind, Doc,” Sharp said. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“No buts. We’ve got a world to save.”
Cutter opened the door while Sharp grabbed the doctor. It soothed that hurt place deep inside him to touch her warm, soft skin again, to know she was okay.
“Here,” he said, handing her a military ball cap. “Put this on.”
They stepped out into the hall to find the two guards tied up and on the floor, the rest of their team waiting for them by the door. No one said anything. They just walked out of the building and marched, with her in the middle of their five-sided formation, toward the landing field.
“Doc,” Cutter said quietly. “Do you need those other samples?”
“It would be better to get new ones,” she replied. “The old ones are still dangerous, though. They need to be disposed of properly.”
“We’ll worry about that when we’re not breaking enough orders to cause an earthquake. Do you have all the equipment you need at the village?”
“As long as no one has blown up the Sandwich or shot it all up, probably. But I have no protective gear. Do you guys?”
“No. Marshall did something with our bio-suits.”
The landing field came into view.
“So, we’re not stopping to grab anything?” she asked, her tone betraying her nervousness.
“No time,” Cutter told her. He’d stepped up the pace, leading them in a ground-eating march that still wasn’t out of place on the base.
“What about a cell phone? My SINGCAR radio was destroyed in the crash.”
“Nope. The Grinch took our phones and radios yesterday.”
“Why am I not surprised,” Grace said, no trace of a question in her statement.
Their group approached the helicopter where Smoke and Clark were talking with one of the pilots in front of an open panel near the rear rotor.
“Guys, I just got a heads-up on that mission we worked up last night,” Cutter said to Smoke and Clark. He turned to the pilot. “Marshall wants to talk to you personally before he okays the mission. He doesn’t want another bird going down.”
“No problem,” the pilot said, closing up the panel. “I’m fueled and ready to go. You guys make yourselves at home.” He headed out at a trot.
Cutter turned and said to the team, “Let’s go.”
Sharp urged Grace inside the bird. “Grab a seat.”
“I need a weapon, and—” she glanced down at herself “—everything else.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He strapped in next to her. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be fine, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even promise they’d land at the village without trouble.
The rest of the team piled into the bird, Smoke and Clark up front in the pilot and copilot seats.
The engine started and the rotors began to spin.
A couple of soldiers glanced at them curiously. Sharp grinned and waved. The soldiers returned to whatever they were doing.
Across the aisle, Cutter put a headset on. He spoke into the mic, his lips moving to form the words in a precise manner that told Sharp he was addressing a senior officer.
No, sir.
No, sir.
A long pause, then very distinctly Cutter’s lips formed the words: I can’t do that, sir.
Shit had hit the fan.
Cutter reached around and smacked Smoke on the shoulder and gave the get us out of here now hand signal.
The helicopter began to rise off the ground.
Movement on the tarmac caught Sharp’s attention. Soldiers were racing toward them with weapons raised. No one was firing yet, but that was probably going to change.
Cutter took his hands off his weapon and raised them in the air. Sharp and the other guys followed suit. So did Grace.
That seemed to give everyone pointing guns at them pause.
Their helicopter continued to rise, more rapidly every second.
Marshall appeared out of the growing crowd of soldiers watching them leave. He made a chopping gesture toward their helicopter, yelling something.
For a moment, no one seemed to respond.
The next second, bullets pinged all around them.