Chapter Nine
A licia walked into the lab building expecting to meet with Max regarding the training schedule for his people. A perfectly normal, professional conversation. If only she could convince her brain to get with the program.
Her head kept replaying his expression when she’d gone down on him. Maintaining a professional distance was going to be a problem, but she couldn’t dredge up a speck of regret either. Last night had been amazing. She’d never felt as connected to another human being as she did to Max.
That was some kind of scary shit.
It all took a backseat when she walked into the lab office and found Eugene talking into two different phones at the same time. Max’s portable lab bags were on the floor next to Eugene’s desk and Max was pacing outside his office talking on the phone.
Eugene saw her, but didn’t do much more than angle his chin toward his boss’s office.
Max saw her a moment later and waved her over. He indicated she should go into his office. He pointed at his computer, so she sat down in his chair and read the report open on the screen.
Some kind of flu had killed four people in a small village in Iraq that had swelled in size due to an influx of refugees from nearby parts of the country recently taken over by extremists. Four out of the dozen infected people dead. She didn’t need a medical degree to know that was bad.
Max ended his call. “I’ve just arranged coverage for me from the chief medical officer on the base. I’m heading to the outbreak myself. He’s going to monitor the flu that seems to have knocked half of Supply on its ass.”
“Is there a connection?”
“I hope not, but we’ll find out.”
“Who’s going with you?”
“You are.”
Thank God she didn’t have to argue her way onto the team. She waited for him to list more people, but he didn’t. He just walked around her and headed toward the supply room. Two names wasn’t enough. “Just us?”
He didn’t even slow down. “I want this to be an in-and-out mission. We arrive unobtrusively, identify the pathogen for the World Health Organization, and leave. Short and quick.”
That was it ? “Who treats the sick?”
He walked into the supply room like he was on a one-way mission. “The WHO will assign a team once we know which flu we’re dealing with.”
“You make it sound like it’s going to be a cakewalk.” If he didn’t stop to listen to her soon, three seconds soon, she was going to make him stop the hard way. He’d look good tied to her bed.
He stopped and looked at her. Well, finally .
“It won’t be,” he said. “But the fewer people we bring, the easier it’ll be to do our job and get out without ruffling any feathers.”
“Ruffling feathers? You sound like my grandmother.” Could she strangle him, just a little? “What you really mean is to do the job without pissing anyone off or pissing on their territory.”
He winced like he was in actual pain. “Your use of colorful language isn’t necessary, is it?”
She laughed. “ Piss is not a swear word. In fact, I don’t think it’s even on the soldier’s checklist of stress-reducing bad language.”
He glanced at her. “It’s a pedestrian word, and you’re smarter than that.”
“What are you, Greek now?”
“ Audentes fortuna iuvat ,” he said absently.
“What?”
“Fortune favors the bold.”
Now he was quoting military mottos. “I thought you didn’t speak fortune cookie?”
He huffed and glared at her. “I was saving it for a special occasion.”
He was getting mad. Good. Maybe he’d stop and think for a minute. “Really? What are we celebrating?”
“Wednesday.”
She couldn’t help herself. It just tumbled out of her mouth. “Shouldn’t we be naked?”
All activity within twenty feet stopped.
She shrugged. “Since we’re, you know, celebrating hump day.”
Max frowned at her. “Are you drunk?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m somewhat bemused at all the frenetic activity. If this isn’t going to be dangerous, you wouldn’t be so wound up. So, tell me again why we’re not bringing any backup?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m the security expert.”
“Right, dumb question.” He squared his shoulders as if preparing for bad news. “How many people do you think we should have?”
“Total of four. Two extra to help lug your stuff around and watch our backs.”
Max stared at her like he wasn’t sure he understood what language she was speaking.
She smiled sweetly at him. “You thought I was going to demand an entire twelve-man team, right?”
“I did.”
“You want in and out, that’s what you’re going to get. Fourteen people are going to make an impression. Four, not so much.” She glanced around. People were back to the busy rushing about. “When do we leave?”
“In two hours.”
No regrets. That was Ali’s usual motto. Today, she wanted more time spent with Max the man, not the colonel. She wasn’t going to get it.
“I’m going to grab our escort and load up on weapons and ammunition. If that meets with your approval, Colonel?”
He raised a brow, then nodded.
Ali left the building, hiding her bemusement. Max had thought she would argue with him, and she would, but she also knew how to pick her battles. She’d been managing powerful men most of her life. Her father and grandfather, her own officers, and officers from other branches of the military. They all said they wanted to be trained by the best, but very few ever went without challenging her skills or right to teach hand-to-hand combat to men twice her size.
Max was a pussycat compared to some of the assholes she’d had to deal with.
She headed straight for her father’s office and found him about to leave.
“Sir? A moment, please?”
“What is it, Sergeant?”
“Sir, Colonel Maximillian is heading to a village in Northern Iraq to identify a possible flu virus that’s killed four people. I’d like to take a couple of Special Forces soldiers as escort.”
He looked at her for a moment, searching her face. “Approved. I’ll give the order on my way out.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t forget your backup weapon.”
She stood a little taller. “I won’t, sir.” She saluted and headed out of the administration building. Once outside she jogged to the firing range, where the on-base Special Forces soldiers were scheduled to be. At the moment only one team was in residence. A dozen soldiers who were trained by the best to be the best.
At the range she talked to their unit commander, Sergeant Miles Hamston, and asked him who he recommended for this short mission.
Ham, as everyone called him, stood with one hip cocked forward and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t ask me a bullshit question like that. I know you have two guys in mind, so just tell me who the fuck you want.”
She loved working with men who didn’t bother with chitchat. “I want Bullard and Irving.”
“They’re yours. Give me twenty seconds to get them.”
It wasn’t even that long. Fifteen seconds after he left, he was back with two men. “Try to return them in one piece.”
“Will do.” She turned to her new recruits. “Get your gear. We’re going into a medical hot zone. Possible flu, and it’s killing people. Your job will be to watch Colonel Maximillian’s back while he does his thing to identify the bug. Prep for three days and don’t dress fancy.”
She glanced at her watch. “You have fifteen minutes to gear up and meet me at the helipad. Go.”
They went.
Ali jogged to her own quarters, grabbed her go-bag and jammed as much extra ammunition, water, and food into it as she could. She added an ankle holster on her right leg with her back-up Beretta. Her primary Beretta rode in a leg holster on her right thigh. She tucked four extra clips into the pouches on her belt made specifically for that purpose.
Her primary weapon, an MK 16 Mod 0 SCAR-L, fired forty-five-mm rounds and used thirty-round magazines. By the time she was done stashing extra magazines in all the places she could, she looked like a Christmas tree.
Her backpack was filled with survival gear, high-energy protein bars, a couple of additional canteens of water, and more ammunition.
At the helipad, Max was talking to Eugene when she walked up. The colonel took one look at her and said, “We’re going for two days. Two days . To identify a pathogen, not rescue hostages.” He waved his hand up and down in front of her. “You look like you’re going to lay siege an entire city for a month.”
She saluted. “Leo in deterius expectabit.”
“Plan for the worst, hope for the best?” Max shook his head. “Is that your motto?”
“It is today.” She turned and gestured at the two soldiers who’d appeared next to her. “This is Weapons Sergeant Bill Bullard and Medical Sergeant Tom Irving.”
Max shook their hands. “It’s just the four of us on this trip, so call me Max. My goal is to fly under the radar, so no ranks, sirs, or salutes.”
“Call me Bull.”
“I’m Tom to most people most of the time,” the medic said. “Unless shit’s going down, then I’m Tomahawk.”
“Let’s get moving,” Max said to them. “I’ll brief you in the air.”
They got on the bird and a few minutes later, they took off.
Max gave everyone a headset and began explaining to the two Special Forces soldiers the parameters of the mission.
“We’re going to a village in Northern Iraq. It was overrun by extremists last month, and approximately forty to fifty people were killed during the takeover. A week later, the extremists pulled out of the village to take over a larger one forty kilometers away. Quite a few of those people escaped and some of them landed in the first village because they had family members or friends there. Two weeks ago, a few people came down with high fevers and other flu-like symptoms. More people reported the same symptoms in the following days. Last night, a lot more people reported getting sick, enough to ask for help. Four of them died of what appears to be breathing difficulties. Our job is to get in, identify the pathogen, report the results to the WHO and our own command, then get out without injury.”
“Sir, is this going to be like the mission in Northern Lebanon, when your doctor ran into Akbar?” Bull asked.
“Unlikely. My doctor went into that camp not knowing what the pathogen was and worked on the assumption it could be anything. This time, I’m reasonably sure it’s an influenza virus, I just need to verify it and determine which one.”
“What if it isn’t?” Irving asked.
Max shrugged. “The mission will change.”
“And Akbar?”
“Is unlikely to be involved in this. He’s trying to create the next great plague. While the flu can be deadly, and has been in the past, there are easier pathogens to use as biological weapons than influenza. It’s just too...unpredictable.”
“Sounds like my last girlfriend,” Bull said.
Max looked confused. “You’re comparing your last girlfriend to the flu?”
“Yeah, when you put it that way,” Bull said, “it does sound kind of bad. But trust me, that bitch made me feel every flu symptom there is.”
Stone ignored him. “How many people live in this village?”
“Numbers seem in contention, but approximately six hundred. Two or three hundred are new.”
“Who got sick? The residents, the newcomers, or a bit of both?”
“Unknown, but those are good questions. We’ll have to ascertain all that when we get there.”
He unzipped the duffel bag nearest to him, took out a medium-sized bag and pulled out a fancy-looking medical mask, showing it to everyone. “This is a surgical mask designed to fit snugly on the face and create a seal so no air droplets can get in from the sides. They come in a bunch of sizes, so go through the bag and try them out until you find one that fits. Once you find the right size, take an extra mask and keep it with you.” He handed Stone the bag.
Max went back to the duffel bag, grabbed a small box and pulled several pairs of gloves out of it. “Take several pairs of gloves, as well.”
“Do we have a contact on the ground?” Stone asked.
“Yes, the UN has a couple of different groups with people in the village, an international aid group based out of France has a couple of people in the area, and the World Health Organization has a small emergency clinic set up. They’re the ones who contacted me about the flu. Officially, we’re not there. We’re not going to be there, and no matter what anyone says, we were never there.”
“Unofficially?”
“We’re coming in to support the WHO. Once we have a diagnosis, we leave. The army’s only official act in regard to the village will be a supply drop if needed of emergency food and/or medical supplies.”
Ali studied Max’s face as he finished speaking. His shoulders were raised, and that along with clenched hands told her there was more on his mind than he was saying. “In the interests of proper planning,” she began, and received instant attention from all three men. “What kind of worst-case scenarios could we see in this village?”
Max’s mouth tightened and she knew she’d read him correctly. He was worried about something. “Unfortunately, there’re several. When one group of extremists takes over a village they’ll usually kill a large number of the men and often boys. Sometimes they kidnap women and children. Sometimes they kill indiscriminately. Sometimes they target specific religious or ethnic groups. The Kurds have been hard-hit in the area. So have Christians, as well as any Muslims who don’t follow the teachings of the specific extremist group.”
He hunched over a little, almost as if he were praying. “Then, another extremist group or the relatives of the displaced might retake the village. They perform the same atrocities as the first extremists in revenge or retribution.”
“A vicious cycle,” Stone said in a tone that sounded tired already, even to herself.
“One that doesn’t end quickly or well.” Max shook his head. “We’re going into a volatile environment. The aid group workers are in almost as much danger as we are, but the American military is everyone’s preferred target, so be cautious.”
He pointed at a duffel bag attached to the fuselage of the helicopter. “There are some poncho-like coats that are common in this part of the world in the winter. Where we’re going gets pretty cold at night, so no one is going to think twice if they see you wearing one. There’re also some scarves to camouflage your helmets and face masks.”
He made eye contact with Ali. “Do you want to go in wearing female or male clothing?”
“I’d rather not advertise I’m a woman.”
“Fair enough.” He glanced at the two male soldiers to include them. “Who speaks Arabic or Dari?”
He put his own hand up. Ali put up hers, so did Bull, and Tom.
“Excellent. One last thing. We’re landing a couple of miles away from the village and walking in. Getting dropped off by an American military helicopter would be enlarging the target that’s already on our backs.”
“Already?” Bull asked.
“We’re outsiders, so by definition, we’re suspect.”
“Of what?” Tom asked.
Max shrugged. “Everything.”