No.
She tried to dig in her heels. Failing that, she kicked the paratrooper on her left. She struck him a glancing blow to his knee. Caught by surprise, he stumbled to the side, releasing her.
She swung around to the ghost town, raised her freed arm, and planted two fingers in her mouth. She whistled loudly and sharply, a piercing summons.
“We don’t have any more time,” the Marine clutching her said.
His companion returned and together they herded her toward the open passenger cabin. The other eight Marines came pounding up to join them. She struggled at the doorway.
“No! Wait! Just a few seconds more.”
“We don’t have those seconds.”
She was lifted and shoved inside. The rest of the rescue team piled in after her. Amid the chaos, she kept a firm hold on a handgrip near the open doorway, searching the smoky meadow, the edges of the ghost town.
C’mon, Nikko.
She didn’t have a clear view of the tractor where she had left her partner. Was he still alive? She remembered the thunderous blasts that had heralded the arrival of the Marines. They must have fired rocket-propelled grenades to soften the enemy. One of the curling ribbons of smoke was near where the rusted tractor was located.
In her attempt to save Nikko, had she gotten him killed instead?
With everyone on board, the helicopter’s engines roared louder. The wheels lifted free of the grass.
Then she spotted movement, a shape racing through the scrub brush from the edge of the ghost town.
Nikko.
She whistled again for him. He sprinted even faster toward the rising helicopter, but the craft was already yards above the ground. Refusing to abandon him, she leaped out the open cabin door and landed in a hard crouch in the sandy dirt.
Angry shouts rose above her.
Then Nikko was there, leaping into her arms, knocking her down on her backside. He panted in her face, wriggling his relief. She hugged him tightly, ready to face whatever was to come — as long as they did it together.
Then hands grabbed her from behind, hauling her up. Without the wheels ever touching the ground, the helicopter had lowered enough to retrieve them.
She clung to Nikko, carrying him with her into the cabin. She landed on her back, Nikko on top of her.
The door slammed at her heels.
The Marine who had first grabbed her leaned over her. He had ripped away his night-vision gear, revealing a young, rugged face with a scrub of dark stubble. She expected to be admonished, to be dressed down for her foolhardy action.
Instead, he clapped her on the shoulder and pulled her to a seated position. “Name’s Drake. Wasn’t alerted about the dog,” he said in an apologetic tone. “Marines never leave a soldier behind. Even a four-legged one.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He shrugged and helped her up into a seat, then gave Nikko a good scratching around his neck. “Handsome fella.”
She smiled, already liking the guy. Besides, the same could be said for the Marine.
Handsome fella.
Nikko danced a bit on his paws, trying to look everywhere at once, but he kept one haunch firmly against her shin, refusing to be separated from her.
I feel the same way, buddy.
She stared out the window as the helicopter tilted to the side. She caught the distant silvery glint of Mono Lake, still free of the spreading cloud of toxin. If the Marines knew about the nerve gas, then likely word had reached Bill Howard and he was already instituting an evacuation of the immediate area.
The helicopter swung and headed away from the lake.
Frowning, she faced Drake. “Where are we going?”
“Back to MWTC.”
She turned to the window. So they were flying back to the Mountain Warfare Training Center. Not a surprise considering the research base had been a military operation in the first place. Still, suspicions rang through her.
Drake stoked that worry with one final detail. “Apparently there’s a man from D.C. who really wants to talk to you. He should be getting to the center about the same time as us.”
Jenna didn’t like the sound of that. She bent down and gave Nikko a good rub, while covertly freeing her cell phone from his collar. With her back turned to the group, she slipped it into her pocket. Until she understood more, she intended to play her cards close to her chest. Especially after all she had gone through, all she had risked.
“Once he debriefs you,” Drake finished, “you should be able to go home.”
She didn’t respond, but she tightened her grip on her hidden phone, thinking of that Washington bureaucrat.
Whoever you are, mister, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.
6
“We’re on final approach,” the pilot announced over the radio. “We’ll be wheels down in ten.”
Painter stared below the wings of the military aircraft as a meadow came into view, nestled high within the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A few lights shone from a cluster of buildings and homes down there, marking one of the most remote U.S. bases. The Mountain Warfare Training Center occupied forty-six thousand acres of the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest. It was literally in the middle of nowhere and at an elevation of seven thousand feet, the perfect place to train soldiers for combat operations in mountainous terrain and in cold-weather environments. Classes here were said to be the most rigorous and daunting anywhere.
“Have you heard anything new?” Lisa asked him, stirring from the jump seat next to him, a pile of research notes stacked on her lap. She looked at him over a pair of reading glasses, something she had taken to wearing of late. He liked the look.
“Gray and the others are still working with Dr. Raffee back at Sigma command. They’re gathering intelligence about what was really going on at that station. It seems only a handful of people had intimate knowledge of Dr. Hess’s secret research.”
“Project Neogenesis,” Lisa said.
He nodded with a sigh. “As project leader, Hess kept any details limited to a small circle of colleagues. And most of them were on-site when whatever containment was breached. The status of those at the base remains unknown. Until that toxic cloud dissipates or neutralizes, no one can get near the site.”
“What about my request for a shipment of biohazard suits? Properly equipped, we should be able to survey the area on foot.”
He knew she wanted to lead that expedition. It chilled him to picture her venturing into that toxic miasma wearing a self-contained isolation suit, like a deep-sea diver in hellish waters. “For now, until we know more, no one goes near there. Evacuations are still continuing with the help of local authorities and the military. We’re cordoning off a fifty-mile hot zone around the site.”
She sighed and glanced toward the small window next to her seat. “It still seems amazing that something like this could’ve happened. Especially with no one knowing what was going on at the deepest levels of that base.”
“You’d be surprised at how common that is. Since 9/11, there’s been a huge spike in biodefense spending, resulting in a slew of new Level 4 labs popping up across the country. Corporate-funded, government-backed, university-run. These labs are dealing with the worst of the worst, agents that have no vaccine or cure.”
“Like Ebola, Marburg, Lassa fever.”
“Exactly, but also bugs that are being engineered — weaponized — all in the name of preparing for the inevitable, to be a jump ahead of the enemy.”