“Duly noted. I’m having a cigarette, if you want to sit there like a little girl that's up to you, or you can join me,” he said offering the cigarette packet.
The enlisted man removed his helmet gratefully; glad to be out of its stifling heat. The thermometers were registering over one hundred degrees in the shade for the umpteenth day running, a Florida record.
He wiped his brow, took the proffered cigarette, and lit it. “Thanks, Serge,” he blew a plume of blue smoke and sighed deeply, having a nicotine rush. The third man in the crew removed his helmet, he declined the cigarette glad to be out of the claustrophobic helmet. He breathed in fresh air heartily, when he became aware of music.
The three-man crew stared in utter disbelief as the furniture truck trundled past them with chests of drawers, wardrobes and other items of unsecured furniture spilling from the back of the truck. They were even more dumbfounded to see the driver and a girl singing their hearts out seemingly without a care in the world.
“Were they singing, ‘Ben’?” the sergeant asked in stunned bewilderment.
18:06 PM
Hamilton Parker stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror in the White House bathroom. “Is that a hickey?” he said aloud to himself. He wriggled around trying to see the blemish; it seemed to be on the back of his neck. He pulled the skin of his neck trying to see the mark better. It was no good.
He strolled into his luxurious bedroom, fetched a hand-held mirror from the First Lady’s dresser, and went back to the bathroom. “Shit,” he said flatly. He had a hickey. He’d told Miss April to be careful, he told her repeatedly not to leave any visible marks. No marks period. He didn’t want the First Lady seeing love bites anywhere intimate — or anywhere else for that matter.
He went back into the bedroom, sat at his wife’s dresser, and found her powder. He was no stranger to make-up, having done countless interviews and TV broadcasts, it was the norm to be painted up like a clown, and as he was due on a live TV debate later, it was not to unusual for him to have make up on. He found his wife’s foundation brush and went about applying a liberal covering over the hickey. The things he had to do, he fumed. He cursed Miss April and would have to reprimand her. It wasn’t on. OK, so she was as dumb as a bag of wrenches, but even she must understand the gravity of the situation. Hickeys were a no-no. He could not remember receiving one, when he thought about it. He was normally pretty good at making sure that his casual partners never left any signs. But Miss April was different she could do things… his mind drifted as he thought, and realized that’s exactly what must have happened, his mind wandered as he was lost in ecstasy.
He dabbed his neck with the brush, turned his head and saw another blemish, under his chin. He arranged the mirrors to focus on the unusual place to received a hickey, goddamn her. For Christ’s sake, he cursed and attacked the second blemish with the powered brush.
CHAPTER 36
18:07 PM
The United States Navy is the largest fighting force in the world with over four hundred thousand men, nearly four thousand aircraft and over three hundred surface and under water vessels, seventy-five nuclear powered submarines and the world’s largest fleet of aircraft carriers. Right now the USS Thomas Jefferson was part of the Atlantic fleet guarding the east coast of Florida and was fighting an unseen enemy of devastating proportions.
The aircraft carrier was like a small floating city, with up to six thousand personnel living aboard. They had access to all the mod cons of a land-based city, cinemas, bowling alleys, doctors and dentists, even a McDonald’s.
It was in the doctor’s surgery, that seaman Gomez found himself, in sickbay fighting for his life. He had blood trickling from his ears, nose and most distressingly his eyes. Yet no amount of medication eased his pain. He thrashed his head from side to side in agony.
The hazmat-suited doctor took a sharp breath aware of what Gomez was suffering from and was apprehensive of what it meant for the rest of the ships contingent, crammed together in their tight quarters breathing in the same air.
The captain had already issued out the hazmat suits to himself and other high-ranking officers, but they did not have enough to go around, none for the lower ranks, and this caused much consternation, as the men became aware this virus meant certain death.
There were rumblings in the ranks and it was a somber and menacing atmosphere aboard. The men with symptoms were reluctant to come forward as it meant isolation and inevitable death. A large number of men were missing at the last head count, and it was assumed that they had jumped overboard, either in a vain attempt to swim to shore and distance themselves from the noxious pestilence, others no doubt, preferring to drown, than to face the slow, agonizing death brought on through contracting the Black Death. The doctor sighed knowing attempting to escape was futile, as the sailors were already infected. A virus as virulent as this had already passed from man-to-man, as they lived in such cramped quarters.
The doctor was morbidly fascinated to watch the effects of the plague taking hold of Gomez. He’d been sent details of what to expect if they came across a victim, which he’d had a cursory glance at, but to be an eye-witness to this ancient disease up close and personnel was truly fascinating, just as a grimly detached individual might glance at a auto wreak.
He noted the bleeding from the orifices, they had had to put Gomez in an adult diaper early, as thick, black blood oozed from his rectum, and he was now into the secondary stages of bleeding from his facial orifices. He had the telltale swelling of the lymph glands, his body covered with the dark rings of pus-filled buboes, and his skin had darkened even further. By all accounts, Gomez had succumbed in less than three hours. Captain Phillips had accompanied Gomez on the USB to find their fallen comrades, but he had worn his helmet at all times, as had the lieutenant. Neither man saw him remove his helmet, but it was plainly obvious that he had done, the evidence lay dying in front of him. The doctor sighed feeling helpless in his inability to help Gomez or even ease his suffering. He would go and speak with the Captain, as they had to isolate the infected men ASAP. Even while he thought this, he recognized the fact that it was probably too late for this ship’s complement of six thousand.
18:08 PM
On the bridge high up in the conning tower, an impromptu meeting convened with the high-ranking officers, who looked truly bizarre in their hazmat suits. Feelings ran high, as two opposing factions were battling it out for the best way forward. Captain Phillips was all in favor of dumping the plague-carriers overboard at the first sign of the infection, while his second-in-command, Commander Roscoe opposed this, declaring that the humane decision would be to try to save every soul onboard. The doctor sided with the commander in his wish to save the men, aware of how outrageous it was to have such a conversation about disposing of potentially thousands of American naval personnel in such a brutal fashion and in such a casual, cavalier manner. The notion would have been not only abhorrent, but also unthinkable just a few days ago.
“What does Washington say?” asked the doctor finally joined the affray.
“I haven’t alerted Washington yet,” Captain Phillips answered. This caused more muttering around the room. “This is my ship, my problem, I’ve told you what I think, and ultimately my decision is final.”
“I thought the instructions were quite clear, Captain,” ventured Commander Roscoe, “We were to notify Washington the first moment we detected the virus on board.”
“What do you think Washington would do, hmm?” he said quickly with venom injected into his voice. “We’ve all seen first-hand what we do with the general public suffering from the plague, kill them all without question. Damnit, even we’ve been ordered to kill every living thing in southern Florida. Do you think I’m going to tell them that we’re a floating time bomb waiting to explode? No sir, not me, they would blow us out of the water. We would not have a moment to defend ourselves; they would instruct all the other vessels on the Atlantic seaboard to annihilate us. Is that what you want?”