Viral Resistance Read online

  “Hope you did something about Chancellor Wilson,” Saladin said.

  “He’s underwater, somewhere between San Francisco and Alcatraz,” Daan said.

  “You never got the Dean and Professors back, did you?”

  “No,” Daan said, “not that it matters. Ivan has no reason to hold them at this point, but he will just out of spite. We know one of them is already dead for sure.”

  “Yes, I saw the video. Ivan is entertaining, I’ll give him that.”

  “I wasn’t entertained,” Daan said, “but no matter. We did hurt him last night.”

  “Oh, really? How?”

  “We took out two of those ridiculous battle wagons he has, and killed one of the crews,” Daan said.

  “You can’t track them now, though, can you?”

  “Since our satellite access has been cut off, we really needed that communications center. We’re limping along now, but we don’t have the capabilities that we need until we can replace that center.”

  Saladin laughed. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You haven’t been able to track the remaining motor homes after the battle last night, and now you have no idea where they are.”

  “We still have video cameras up all over the state,” Daan said, his smile starting to crack away.

  “But you haven’t seen them yet, have you? They might be right outside this facility.”

  “I wish they were,” Daan said. “Let’s not get back into old habits. We’ve got real problems to solve, and if we can’t work together on them, we’re gonna lose. Is that what you want?”

  “I’ve got so many sleepers in this country now that we’ll never lose completely,” Saladin said. “We could just lay low, bide our time, make the infidel think they’ve won, and then start up our attacks again.”

  “The leadership in Belgium will never allow that. They’ll cut your funding and stop your operations. The enemy might expose your forces eventually, you know, without any help from EU leadership.”

  “The RFID chips?” Saladin asked. “They have to break them first.”

  “Rumor has it they’re well on the way to that. I personally think they’ve already broken them, based on the recent attacks Ivan has made.”

  “That’s not possible,” Saladin said.

  “Actually, it’s very possible, and it’s partly your fault,” Daan said.

  “I thought we were going to work together,” Saladin said. “Now you’re blaming your own failures on me.”

  “We need to be honest with each other, without the testosterone getting in the way,” Daan said. “We’ve both been outsmarted repeatedly by General Hogan and General Walker. We need to get better.”

  “We killed Walker, remember?” Saladin asked.

  Daan chuckled. “You participated in his sacrifice, by which he saved the real prize.”

  “Oh, that again,” Saladin said. “You really think some retired IT executive will be our undoing?”

  Daan sighed and sat down, picking up a phone on the table next to him. “Bring in the food.” He put the phone on the receiver and motioned for Saladin to sit next to him.

  “What?”

  “We need to have a long chat, so we might as well eat and be comfortable.”

  The door in the back of the room opened, and a man in a chef’s outfit pushed a cart in, stopping at a table and unloading the covered silver trays. He lit burners under some of them, and then pushed the cart back outside.

  “We’ll eat in a second, but I want to finish a point,” Daan said.

  “Go ahead,” Saladin said. “I’ll try to keep my testosterone in check.”

  They smiled at each other for a moment, Daan looking like he didn’t want to talk. He looked down, then looked back up at Saladin. “There’s something about Frank Johnson that I never mentioned to you.”

  “Uh oh. I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “No,” Daan said. “Frank Johnson designed the system that were using for the RFID chips.”

  “What?” Saladin asked, eyes widening. “When were you going to tell me this?”

  “I hoped never,” Daan said, “because I expected your forces to make short work of Walker and Hogan’s operations. I didn’t think Frank would have enough time to finish his work.”

  “If he understands the system, how much work is it for him?” Saladin asked.

  “Quite a lot,” Daan said. “He has to break encryption just to get access to the signal. Then he must break more encryption to get the message payload. Even if he does that, he still has to hack into our systems and steal some data elements on our personnel. Otherwise he won’t be able to understand the message payload.”

  Saladin was silent for a moment. “You think he’s done it, don’t you?”

  “I suspect he’s getting close,” Daan said. “It’s possible that Ivan and the people in Hogan’s command have just gotten lucky a few times.”

  “There’s no such thing as luck,” Saladin said.

  “Yes there is,” Daan said, “but good luck doesn’t happen repeatedly.”

  “I need to run the hunt for Frank Johnson personally,” Saladin said, looking down for a moment. “That’ll take me out of California. We think they’re in Colorado right now.”

  “There’s two other problems,” Daan said.

  “Okay, what are they?”

  “First, we need you to run the forces in East San Diego county. The leadership there is poor. They need to be whipped into shape, so they can be successful in opening I-8 to traffic again.”

  “As I said earlier, I agree with that. I’ll do that, but what about the Bay Area? Ivan is giving you a hard time.”

  “We have a shipment of UN Peacekeepers on the way, to populate a new base in Davis. Once they’re here, we’ll make short work of Ivan’s troublesome little band.”

  “Ivan is more than troublesome. I saw the news reports. The people up here are rebelling, just like they did down in LA and Orange Counties. He’s a master at stirring them up.”

  “I’m planning a surge with these UN forces, and remember one important thing.”

  “What’s that?” Saladin asked.

  “UN Peacekeepers don’t have RFID chips,” Daan said.

  Saladin was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I’ve still got roughly sixty thousand of my people up here. I need to take them south with me to work the San Diego problem.”

  “That would be my suggestion,” Daan said.

  “Consider it done,” Saladin said. “I’ll give the orders tonight. Was that the two problems?”

  “No, that was only the first problem,” Daan said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’ve gotten new intelligence on the southwest team,” Daan said.

  “From whom? Is this just another rumor?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Daan said, face grim.

  “Well, are you going to tell me?”

  “George Franklin has joined Hogan’s team. He’s with Frank Johnson right now.”

  Saladin froze. “What?”

  “You heard me,” Daan said. “I know of your history.”

  Saladin sat back, thinking, a smile washing over his face. “I broke him, you know. Turned him into a babbling idiot.”

  “He’s recovered,” Daan said, “and he’s got a crazy friend.”

  “What crazy friend?”

  “Malcolm Davis,” Daan said. “Ever hear of him?”

  “No,” Saladin said.

  “I suggest you do some research on both of those guys, because when you’re done in San Diego County, they are your next task. We need Frank Johnson dead. You’ll have to get through those two guys to do it.”

  “Give me a preview at least,” Saladin said.

  “Come, let’s get our food, and we can continue talking.”

  They got up, walking towards the food table. They filled plates and sat at a large table in the middle of the room, covered by an ornate tablecloth with fancy place settings.

  “This is exquisite,” Sal
adin said after taking a bite of lamb.

  “Glad you like it,” Daan said.

  “So how do you know that George Franklin has recovered? Intelligence?”

  “No, it wasn’t a recent development. He’s been back for a few years.”

  “How are you so sure?” Saladin asked.

  “He and Malcolm have been busy. They took out Jason Beckler and Sadie Evans, and then took on a guy named Sailor Boy. Later they had a nasty tussle with the family of Red Dagger. Killed everybody involved.”

  “I have heard of some of these people,” Saladin said, “American serial killers, correct?”

  “Yes,” Daan said.

  “This is not like war,” Saladin said. “I can defeat police.”

  Daan looked at him for a moment, making Saladin uncomfortable.

  “You think George Franklin will kill me,” Saladin said, setting his silverware down.

  “I didn’t say that,” Daan said, “but you’d better not take this lightly. I mean it. We may have our differences, but we need each other. If either of us are lost, the operation in the western US is over. The eastern US will fall as well.”

  “Where did you get this intelligence?” Saladin asked.

  “One of the militia groups, formerly based in Williams, Arizona.”

  “I don’t trust them,” Saladin said. “We’ll just have to fight them after this war is over.”

  “I agree, but that is a discussion for later,” Daan said.

  The door burst open, one of Daan’s lieutenants rushing in.

  “What is it, Stephan?” Daan asked.

  “Ivan the Butcher is on TV again. Would you like the screen turned on?”

  Daan and Saladin glanced at each other, then Daan looked back at Stephan. “That won’t be necessary.”

  {2}

  Blood Samples

  G arrett and his men rode through the gate at the Williams place and trotted towards the big lawn in front of the house. He dismounted, turning to see Anna coming towards him in a flat-out run. She leapt into his arms, kissing him hard, her arms around his waist.

  “I was so scared when I heard,” she said. “You’re not wounded?”

  “No, but I lost my hat,” he said. “Got shot right off my head.”

  “I can’t believe we lost Zac and Bradley.”

  “I know, neither can I,” he said, walking his horse to a hitching post. He tied the reins onto it and followed Anna onto the veranda. Ji-Ho was sitting there with Sid, Clem, and Sam.

  “How many get away?” Ji-Ho asked.

  “We never saw the whole force,” Garrett said, sitting down next to Anna on the porch swing. “We killed quite a few, but I had a bad feeling. When are we gonna hit their base? Might be good to hit it sooner rather than later.”

  “We talking about now,” Ji-Ho said. “Jamul next target. Too far for Julian forces to stop us.”

  “How many UN Peacekeepers in the Jamul location?”

  “Two hundred,” Ji-Ho said, “but most consist of brass, there for training and strategy development.”

  “If we hit them, it’s like cutting the head off the snake,” Clem said.

  “How many more are gonna show up?” Garrett asked.

  “Less than expect,” Ji-Ho said. “Intelligence say large group of UN Peacekeepers going to Bay Area, not south.”

  “I see movement of Islamists,” Sam said. “Coming south on I-5, mostly.”

  “They change strategy,” Ji-Ho said. “Use UN north, Islamist here to re-open I-8. Otherwise they starve for fighters.”

  “That intelligence or a guess?” Sid asked.

  Ji-Ho chuckled. “Guess, but educated one. Tidbits of info from Ivan help put pieces together.”

  “I think he’s right,” Sam said. “We need to nail those UN leadership folks in Jamul before they move north to shore up the UN Peacekeepers on the way to the northern base.”

  “They not leave yet,” Ji-Ho said. “Ivan make big mess up north. Take out communications installation. They back to cell phones, and Ivan can hack.”

  “You think the enemy will wait to move them north until they replace their comm installation?” Sid asked.

  “Good chance,” Ji-Ho said.

  “Maybe we need to go hit that base today,” Garrett said.

  “Don’t you need to rest up a little?” Anna asked.

  “We do when dark,” Ji-Ho said. “Take nap now. We meet again at seven. Work for everyone?”

  There were nods of agreement around the veranda.

  Garrett stood. “That’s our cue.”

  “Don’t waste time going back home,” Anna said. “I’ve got a room upstairs.”

  “Good, I was hoping you’d suggest that.”

  “I’ll take you up there, and then leave you,” Anna said. “Got things to do.”

  “Like what?” Garrett asked as he stood.

  “I’m going to introduce Mia to the other women, and help her get comfortable,” Anna said, shooting a glance at Sam. “That way Sam and Erica can still fight when needed.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours,” Garrett said. He followed Anna into the house and up the stairs.

  “It’s this room,” Anna said. “Feel free.”

  “Thanks,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I had you on my mind the whole time I was gone.”

  “Later,” she said, backing away. “Sleep.”

  He nodded, watching her leave the room, shutting the door behind herself. He stripped and climbed into her bed, asleep within minutes.

  ***

  Ivan sat behind his desk as the camera shut down. He looked over at Ben Dover and chuckled.

  “We have them on the run,” he said.

  “Hope so,” Ben said. “What’s next?”

  “For TV? The women.”

  “They’re really going through with that?” Ben asked. “Do they even need to now?”

  “There are still forces in the media trying to combat the truth,” Ivan said. “Hard to argue against the testimony of living victims.”

  “They’ll just say it’s phony,” Ben said.

  “Of course they will, but the people won’t buy it. It’s one more thing. Drip drip drip.”

  “Where we gonna do that?” Ben asked.

  “Elk Grove, just south of Sacramento,” Ivan said. “We’ve tracked one of the bases that had women captives to that city.”

  “We’re gonna try a rescue again?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, and hopefully it’ll be successful this time. We can go in there without having to do a large frontal assault. The situation is like what we had at the Torrance Civic Center.”

  “Mr. Black told me about that,” Ben said. “Sounded like it was a pretty hairy operation.”

  “It was, but we had the element of surprise,” Ivan said. “We also had a talented team.”

  “You’re not telling me details, are you?”

  “It’s on a need-to-know basis,” Ivan said. “You don’t need to know. Jules doesn’t even know the whole plan. Right now he just knows to move up I-5. I’ll be sending instructions for the location in a few minutes.”

  Ben sat silently for a moment. “We aren’t doing the broadcast from the new base, are we?”

  “That’s more than I’m going to say right now,” Ivan said.

  “Shit, it’s going to be from the rescue scene,” Ben said.

  “I told you I wasn’t going to talk yet. You’ll be told when it’s time. Trust me. It’s better this way for everybody involved.”

  Ivan’s phone rang. “I’ve got to take this,” he said. “Pack your stuff. You’re leaving with the others in ten minutes.”

  Ben nodded and got up, heading for the door. He turned for a moment as the phone rang. “Be careful, boss.”

  Ivan nodded, then put the phone to his ear and accepted the call, watching Ben leave the room before he spoke. “Mr. Black?”

  “Yes, boss. Everything in place. We have head of infrastruc
ture captive, and brought his family here. Mr. White with them. He play ball. We set up video equipment now. Hiding will be easy.”

  “Excellent,” Ivan said. “Will the location work for an easy escape?”

  “Yes, once we finish. Piece of cake. Where we go afterwards?”

  “You and Mr. White are going to Folsom. I’ve got a job there for you.”

  “Okay, whatever you want, boss,” Mr. Black said. “You can send team here now. We ready.”

  “The rest of the buildings are empty, correct?”

  “Yes, boss, they vacant for while. Lots of room to hide. Out of sight.”

  “Good,” Ivan said.

  “Any big fish coming?” Mr. Black asked.

  “Not here, but we’ll release some big fish from Folsom afterwards.”

  “Okay, I wait. Be careful. Don’t get caught.”

  “I won’t,” Ivan said. “Talk to you soon. Call me if anything unexpected happens.”

  “Yes sir.” The call ended, and Ivan put the phone in his pocket, then picked up the phone receiver on the land line. “I’m ready. Hurry. I need to be out of here in ten minutes.”

  He hung up the phone, then stood behind his desk, taking his fedora off, then stripping out of his pin-striped suit. There was a knock on the door.

  “Come,” Ivan said. He watched as two women in white lab coats came in, pushing a stainless-steel cart. The top held a blood-drawing kit. The shelf underneath had a cardboard box on it, bent and soggy, a mangled hand sticking out of the top, just touching the top shelf.

  “Ready, sir?” asked the brunette in a Russian accent.

  “Yep,” he said, sitting back down in his chair. The woman picked up the blood drawing equipment and walked over to him. The other woman, a slim blonde, wrestled the box off the cart and put it on the floor, then shoved the empty cart through the door into the hallway. She laid two arms and a leg on the desk, then watched as the brunette tied a piece of surgical tubing around Ivan’s upper arm and cleaned around the veins on his inner elbow.

  “Small pinch,” she said, slipping the needle in, then filling several vials. The blonde picked the first one up and used a small stick to transfer blood onto the open parts of the arms and leg, making sure she got good coverage around ripped veins and arteries. Three more vials were filled. The nurse bandaged Ivan’s elbow, and he got out of the chair, grabbing one of the vials and pouring his blood onto the inside of the fedora and the suit.