“Now. Get out of there.”
“Nice shot,” Kirk said, peering up from the water as I approached.
The river smelled, of fish, of rot, of petroleum and garbage. The air smelled of smoke. Something moved at the base of the pilings, and I had a creeping feeling it was probably rats.
“We need to go.”
“We can swim downriver, steal a boat or a car.”
“Let’s do it.” I squatted, preparing to slip into the water, and squinted past Kirk. “Ready, Julie?”
“I … I can’t.” Julie stared into the darkness under the platform.
“Don’t think about them,” I said. “Rats won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt them.”
“No, no, it’s not that.” Her voice was soaked in tears, and I glanced at Kirk, waiting for him to warn her not to cry.
Kirk was facing the same direction as Julie, but they weren’t staring at the rats. They were staring at the red blooming all along Julie’s arm and streaming into the water.
A hum rose in my ears. Bright motes swirled in front of my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw up or cry.
Kirk was the first to recover. “Get out of the water. Now.”
He grabbed Julie by the arm and dragged her around the helipad and up the shore.
I pushed all thought, all feeling into the back of my mind and forced myself to follow, my body relying on training and muscle memory to function.
We ran for the closest trailer. The door was locked, so I broke it down. Once inside, I pulled off Kirk’s button down, wrung it out and handed it to him. We moved quickly and without talking, him wrapping the cut on Julie’s arm, me checking the trailer’s perimeter.
The hum in my ears gave way to a beating sound, more helicopters, two of them, black this time. Four matching SUVs roared through the broken gate and rimmed the perimeter of the heliport, reflecting light from the burning chopper like dark mirrors. Soldiers wearing black CBRN suits deployed from the vehicles, assault rifles at the ready. They moved from trailer to trailer, clearing each, approaching ours.
I knew what was coming but had no ideas of how to stop it. I had no gun. Even if I did, shooting was risky. Of course, they would have to choose their targets carefully. Julie was too valuable to harm.
Unfortunately, I doubted Kirk and I would come out of this alive.
But then, we already knew that.
I met Kirk’s gaze, pressing my lips into a bitter smile.
He lowered one lid in a wink. “I only wish we’d taken time for that kiss.”
I did, too. I had just opened my mouth to say so when a window shattered, and I heard the hiss.
An incapacitating agent.
Yeah, that’s what I would have done.
I started to feel the effects before I realized I’d taken a breath.
“As an operative, you must learn to live in the moment,” The Instructor said. “Not just while carrying out an assignment, but in every aspect of your life. There’s no point in putting things off when the future may never come.”
When I woke, I expected to be bound.
Scratch that—I expected to be dead.
I was wrong on both counts.
Beyond that, my thoughts were scrambled. Images drifted through my mind in snips and snatches. Fire. Water. Subways and helicopters.
Blood.
Swirling blood.
I forced my eyes open, pushed back the confusion long enough to concentrate on my surroundings. I was lying in bed, wearing a flimsy hospital gown and nothing underneath but heart monitor pads stuck to my chest. An IV tube snaked from my hand and led to a bag hanging from an adjustable metal pole attached to the bed frame. Cloth tape held a square of gauze to the outside of my left upper arm.
My skin felt hot, my stomach uneasy. I could smell river water and rubbing alcohol and the dusty scent of concrete. The area looked like a hospital room, white floors, blank, white walls, but there were no windows.
And I was not alone.
As soon as I saw Jonathan Kirk, I knew who he was, but it took a little longer to remember why we were here.
The river. Jacob’s warning. The cut on Julie’s arm.
He was in a bed hooked to monitors, same as me.
I wondered where they’d put Julie. Wondered how long we had to live. I watched Kirk in silence until his eyelids fluttered.
“Hey,” I said.
He opened his eyes fully and frowned at me, obviously as confused as I had been.
I sat up on my stretcher. A little dizzy at first, I planted elbows on knees and cradled my head in my hands.
“I think we’re in some kind of lab.”
A minute or two passed, and I could see the thoughts shifting around in his mind, just as they had in mine. Finally Kirk sat up and glanced around the room.
“Plum Island.”
“You’ve been here before?”
He shook his head. “Just a guess.”
“Probably a good one.”
He swung off the side of the bed, slid onto his feet, and grimaced.
“Damn leg.”
Bandages wrapped his gunshot wound, ankle to knee.
“There’s a camera in the corner.” I pointed out the small device hugging the ceiling.
Kirk gave it a sneer. “They’re watching us, waiting to see how we die.”
In my line of work, dying was an occupational hazard. But I’d often speculated about how I’d feel when the time came. I’d faced death before. I’d fought it. So far, I’d won. But this time I had no one to fight. This time the enemy was inside, and no tool or training or sheer will to survive could save me.
I probably should be frightened. Instead I felt nothing at all.
“You’re awake,” a male voice said.
I followed the sound to an intercom speaker, embedded in the wall.
“Why are we here?”
“You’ve been infected with a virulent disease.”
“A virulent disease?” That might be the understatement of the year. “You mean Ebola.”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the girl? Where’s Julie?”
“She’s here. Thank you for bringing her back where she belongs.”
I looked up at the camera. “You’re the VIP, aren’t you?
“VIP?”
“The one who requested this operation. The one with ties to the DoD.”
“Weapons are the purview of the defense department, it’s true.”
It was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but I didn’t need either. I knew the answer.
“What is your name?”
“Pembrooke.”
“I want to see Julie, Mr. Pembrooke.”
“It’s Dr. Pembrooke, and she’s serving her country. You two have an opportunity to do the same.”
“An opportunity?” Kirk guffawed. “Does that mean we can refuse?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“You both had injuries. Being in close proximity to Miss James meant a very high likelihood of infection.”
“So now you’re watching us to see how well your new biological weapon works?”
“All weapons must be tested.”
“So that means what?” Kirk asked in a dry voice. “You kick back and watch us die, while chomping on popcorn and Raisinets?”
“We aren’t doing this because we find it entertaining, Mr. Kirk. This is science.”
“Maybe we weren’t infected,” I said.
There was no reply.
Then I understood.
“You son of a bitch. You made sure we were infected. Didn’t you, Pembrooke?”
“Why?” Kirk asked. “To keep us quiet?”
“The genie can’t be put back into the bottle, Mr. Kirk. Our concerns are more immediate than you spilling government secrets. We have a weapon, and we need to know if we can properly manage it.”
“Manage it? How can you manage a …”
But then I knew. I knew it sure as anything.
“You’re testing a cure.” As soon as I’d said the words, my hands began to shake.