74. Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter seventy-four
Sam stood with the knuckle of her left index finger clamped between her teeth, listening to the play by play as the chopper carrying the fast reaction team came in for a landing at Ban Jela?i? Square.
The situation room had become a seething cauldron of barely controlled chaos.
Everyone in the room was either on a phone, rapidly tapping out messages on computers, or trying to replay various bits of information coming through federal and local sources.
The flat screen on the wall showed the little green indicator over the square, located in the middle of Zagreb.
The grayscale satellite feed shimmered for a moment from a connection interruption then rematerialized.
“We are wheels down in ninety seconds,” the team leader said. His radio uplink was shot through with static that made his voice grainy and hard to hear.
It had nearly taken an act of Congress to get the carrier group to patch the unit commander’s radio feed through to Langley, but Deputy Director Nguy?n had kept making phone calls between the White House and the carrier until he’d finally convinced the National Security Director that the situation on the ground would likely be dynamic and unstable, and they needed direct access to the boots on the ground if they wanted the best chance to recover the virus.
Meanwhile, the Secretary of State had the unenviable task of calling officials in Croatia, alerting them to the imminent arrival of U.S.
special forces on their soil, to contain a deadly pathogen carried by terror suspects.
It was the only way to stonewall local law enforcement.
The last thing they needed were a bunch of Croatian cops converging on the site.
While the Croatian government had, grudgingly, given the U.S.
temporary operating status within their country, there’d be hell to pay later, and Sam had a real good idea most of that hell would land squarely on her shoulders.
Right now, all she cared about was recovering LB426 before anyone became infected.
Her feet throbbed, her back ached, and her brain buzzed with a caffeine high.
When this was over, she’d sleep for a week.
For the moment, she stared, unblinking, at the flatscreen.
She said, “Commander, you and your team are in full hazmat, correct?”
“Roger that,” First Lieutenant Lopez replied.
He sounded young. Too young to be leading a group of American commandos on a search and rescue mission that would likely be all over the news in the next hour.
The heavy whomp of helicopter blades nearly drowned out his voice.
“We’re wheels down. Area is packed with civilians but they’re staying well back.
I can already see two dead. Second squad, police up those bodies. We’re taking them with us.”
Sam released her knuckle and said, “Lieutenant, the terrorist fled north and east. You’ll find the opening to an underground footpath. You need to be aware, there is an American contractor in the area. He’s likely armed. I don’t want you shooting unless you absolutely have to.”
“Relax lady,” Lopez told her. “We only hit what we intend to. We’re moving northeast. I’ll update you when we’ve found this tunnel system.”
Sam let out an exasperated breath and turned to Nguy?n. The deputy director’s eye brows went up, as if to say; ‘SpecOps guys. Whaddya gonna do?’
Sam took a moment to redo her ponytail, then returned her knuckle to her teeth. She didn’t notice the divots in the skin. Her brows were knotted tight.
Deputy Director Nguy?n edged closer to her and whispered, “When this is over, we’re going to have a conversation about that personal phone call.”
Sam acknowledged that with a silent nod.
They both returned their attention to the television screen.
From the other side of the room someone called out, “Croatian government says we have fifteen minutes to get the situation under control, then they’re sending in their own military.”
“Stall them,” Nguy?n ordered. “We need more time.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“We’ve already got reports going out on the web about a pair of helicopters landing in the middle of Ban Jela?i?,” Someone else said. “Several of the civilians on the ground are live streaming.”
“Great,” Nguy?n grumbled. “Just what we needed.”
“I hope those choppers are unmarked,” Sam said. “UH-60 Blackhawks are relatively common. We might be able to give Croatian special forces credit.”
Nguy?n made a noise at the back of this throat that didn’t sound hopeful.
“We found your tunnel,” First Lieutenant Lopez told them.
Now that he was no longer in a helicopter, his voice channel had cleared.
He came through loud and clear. Whether or not he’d still have a signal when his team entered Gri? Tunnel, remained to be seen.
The military carried better equipment than the average cellphone, so Sam was hopeful.
“Got a blood trail leading into the tunnels,” Lopez informed them. “We’re headed in.”
Nguy?n said, “Fast but cautious, Lieutenant. We can’t afford any mistakes.”
“We know how to do our jobs,” Lopez said. “Thanks.”
Sam and Nguy?n exchanged another look.
Military Special Forces did not like spooks watching over their shoulders during an operation. They viewed the guys and gals back at Langley as armchair quarterbacks. Sam could sympathize. The SpecOps guys weren’t entirely wrong. But the spooks viewed Special Forces as cowboys.
“Coming to a branch in the path,” Lopez said. “Following the blood trails.”
His signal had started to degrade. Crackles and hissing static filled the speakers. Sam prayed they wouldn’t lose the connection.
“Two bodies up ahead,” Lopez reported.
Ice frosted Sam’s heart. She reached over and gripped Nguy?n’s forearm.
“Moving in for a better look,” Lopez said. “One guy’s dusted. One guy’s still breathing, but just barely. There’s a case. It’s open. Looks like one bottle is missing.”
“Who is it?” Sam heard herself say. “Who’s still alive?”
“The hell should I know, lady. Want me to ask him?”
“What’s he look like?”
“He don’t look good,” Lopez said. “Throat’s all swollen up and his eyes are puffy.”
Nguy?n lunged forward. “Lieutenant, the virus is in the open.”
“We kind of figured that,” Lopez said. “The dead guy is holding an open bottle. We’re bundling the rest of the samples now.”
Nguy?n said, “Check the contractor, Lieutenant. He should have an antibody sample on his person.”
Sam, tears in her eyes, choked out, “Lieutenant, is he alive? Is the contractor alive?”
“Alive but unresponsive. Think I found the antidote. It was right next to him, like he wanted us to find it.”
Sam leapt forward. “Lieutenant, you need to administer the cure to the contractor straight away.”
“What?” Nguy?n cried out. “Absolutely not. We need that to synthesize a cure. Lieutenant, belay that last order.”
Sam pushed in front of Nguy?n. “Lieutenant Lopez, give the contractor the cure. Give it to him now, or he’s going to die.”
Nguy?n raised his voice, “Lieutenant, this is the Deputy Director of Intelligence at CIA. I’m giving you a direct order. That antivirus is to be kept safe at all costs.”
“No,” Sam said. “No, please. Lopez give him the cure.”
Nguy?n rounded on her. “This is bigger than the life of one contractor, Ms. Gunn.”
Sam ignored him and edged closer to the computer microphone. “Lopez, that man is going to die if you don’t administer the cure.”
“Sorry, lady. I’ve got my orders.”
Sam snatched at the microphone. Nguy?n tried to take it from her, but she pushed him away. “Lopez, listen to me, that man is a former Green Beret. He was special forces just like you. He fought in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
“I hear what you’re saying, lady but…”
“Lieutenant, you swore an oath, never to leave a fallen comrade behind,” Sam spoke through waves of tears that tried to choke her. “Please, Lopez, please. I’m begging you. Give him the cure.”
Nguy?n cut Sam off, “Lieutenant, do not listen to her. You need to carry out your orders.”
“You swore an oath!” Sam cried out. “You swore!”
“Ms. Gunn,” Nguy?n said, “You need to leave the situation room now. Someone get her out of here.”
But no one moved. The whole room sat in stunned silence, watching events unfold.
Through wrenching sobs, Sam begged, “Don’t let him die, Lopez. Please, don’t let him die.”