John blinked rapidly. “What… happened?”
Martin’s face was a weird mix of rage and regret. “Damn it, John.”
Deion’s voice came from the front. “Did he say what I fucking think he said?”
“Yes,” Martin said, drawing his M11 and pointing it at John’s face.
Eric entered the training room at the far end of the underground base and found himself immediately assaulted by clapping and cheering from the group of technicians milling around a central platform.
A contraption of cables and steel girders bolted to the concrete suspended Mark Kelly weightlessly from above. Kelly was naked except for a short pair of brown briefs, and his legs and arms were nearly skeletal. Years in Afghanistan and Iraq had left him with a deep tan, but it was visibly lighter than Eric remembered, and even the tattoo of his ex-wife’s name on his bicep had faded.
Kelly glanced up and smiled. “Hey, boss. I walked twenty feet.”
Eric smiled. “That’s good news. We need you back on active duty as soon as possible.”
Kelly’s sad brown eyes narrowed, but his smile never faltered. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, boss.”
The chimera virus had created massive brain and spinal swelling. Mark Kelly, an elite Delta Operator and one of his close friends, was now a quadriplegic.
Nathan Elliot had worked hard to try and find some way to repair the damage to Kelly’s spinal cord. A thin strip of adhesive plastic ran the length of Kelly’s back, and a device around his neck picked up signals from his brain and transmitted them down the strip and into the spinal cord via small probes, bypassing the damaged section of the spine.
Kara Tulli, Elliot’s nurse, gave Eric a stern look. “Elliot will find a way to fix it.”
“If anyone can,” Eric admitted grudgingly, “it’s Elliot.”
“This is just temporary,” Kara said. “The injections should eventually regrow the damaged nerves.”
“I’ve read the reports.”
Kara must have detected something in the tone of his voice. “Doctor Elliot would never harm him.”
Eric raised his hand. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Kara, but Dr. Elliot has a habit of experimenting first and asking questions later.”
“It’s okay,” Kelly muttered. “If it gets me walking again, I’ll gladly be his guinea pig.”
“Mark—”
“I can’t stand being a burden,” Kelly said. “As it is, this thing on my back barely helps control my bowels. The docs say I should consider myself lucky. At least I’m not wearing a diaper. It could be a lot worse. I could be on a ventilator.”
Eric sighed. “How long have we known each other?”
“Almost twenty years.”
“It doesn’t feel like a day over fifty,” Eric said. “I’d do anything to help, Mark. I was the best man at your wedding, for Christ’s sake.”
“If you really wanted to protect me, you could have warned me I was marrying a shrew.”
“I did try and warn you,” Eric said. “But you were so in love…”
“Yeah,” Kelly said. “That’s why Kathy felt so bad when she handed me the divorce papers.”
“Did you ever get your skis back?”
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think she liked to ski.”
“She didn’t.”
Eric winced. “Ouch.”
Tulli had been listening, but she finally rolled her eyes. “Neither of you understand women.”
“I’ll support anything Elliot proposes,” Eric said. “Just be… careful. You don’t want to become his lab rat.”
“I’ve got nothing to lose,” Kelly said. He glanced up at the harness that held him vertical. “Elliot can have at it, as far as I’m concerned.”
Eric sighed and gave Kelly a fist bump that Kelly returned with a shaky fist.
Nancy’s face was an unreadable mask as she got out of the Humvee at the base’s entrance and gingerly helped her father climb from the passenger seat.
Nancy looked fantastic, as always, but Eric was shocked at how frail Smith looked. Smith’s face was haggard, he walked with an uneasy gait, and his hands trembled as he fumbled with the buttons of his coat.
“Sir?” Eric asked.
Smith’s brow furrowed. “Yes?”
Nancy grabbed her father’s hand and pulled him along behind her as she headed deeper into the base. “He’s fine.”
“Sir? You don’t look fine.”
Nancy stopped in front of one of the electric carts. “We had trouble in Washington. Did you need something?”
“Did you find your mother?”
“I need Dewey’s help with that,” Nancy said.
Eric frowned. “Dewey’s help? Why?”
Nancy helped her father to one of the padded seats on the back of the cart and then took the driver’s seat. “I’m tired, Eric.”
“I’m going to need more detail about the trouble in Washington.”
“Just a few bodies—”
“A few bodies?”
“She was defending us,” Smith said irritably. “She was forced to kill the gunman.”
“There was a gunman?”
“Melamid is dead,” Nancy said.
“Vasilii Melamid was there?” Eric asked.
“If you’re going to keep asking questions, get on.”
Eric climbed aboard, and Nancy accelerated the cart until they were whizzing along the stone tunnels. “We were targeted by a shooter.”
“How did they know where to find you?”
Nancy swerved to avoid a startled technician walked down the tunnel. “Either he followed the deliveryman or he followed us.”
“Deliveryman?” Eric asked.
Behind them, Smith cleared his throat. “Alex sent a man with a cell phone.”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “I killed him.”
“How did you know?” Smith asked.
The cart slowed, and Nancy turned to give her father a quick glance. “How did I know what?”
“I didn’t even get a chance to speak,” Smith said. “I didn’t tell you the shooter had entered the diner.”
“I saw it on your face,” Nancy said.
“But how did you know we were going to be attacked?”
“I didn’t,” Nancy admitted. “I saw your face, turned, and took the shot.”
Eric understood what Smith was asking. “What if you’d made a mistake?”
“I didn’t,” Nancy snapped. “I acted. The shooter died. We survived. There’s no reason to second-guess myself.”
I’d be happier if she felt just one iota of guilt.
“You have a cell phone?” Eric asked.
“It has a single number,” Nancy said. “Dewey will help place the call.”
“You think the number has been compromised?” Eric asked.
“I’m not taking a chance,” Nancy said. “That number could belong to my mother, or it could be another link in her communication protocol.”
“Whatever you need,” Eric said.
“Thanks,” Nancy said. “Eric? Vasilii told us my mother holds the codes for a handful of nuclear devices placed inside the US by the Russians.”
Eric almost fell off the cart. “What?”
Smith placed his hand on Eric’s arm. “You have to understand, Eric. Those were dangerous times. I’m sure Alex never considered using them.”
Eric hesitated. “I remember a report about the possibility of Russian nukes on US soil. There wasn’t a lot of confidence in the analysis.”
“We never had proof,” Smith said. “Until now.”
“Your mother holds the codes to these nukes,” Eric said. “Wouldn’t they have changed by now?”
“Most likely they were abandoned,” Smith said. “After the Soviet Union’s collapse, Vasilii and I agreed to… cancel our disaster plans.”
“Disaster plans?” Eric asked.