ARES Virus: Arctic Storm (14 page)

“We can’t afford for it to get out, sir. The contagion rate approaches ninety-seven percent. As you’ve seen, the spread happens quickly,” Koenig answers.

“Let’s take a moment and look at the worst case scenario. We remain at phase one and it gets to the perimeter. According to what I’m hearing, we have miles separating our cordon and the perimeter set up by law enforcement, correct?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Then if it spreads there, it will be contained by a lack of victims—provided we keep everyone out. I mean, surely pilots won’t be able to fly if they get infected with the virus, right?”

“Again, correct, sir. They wouldn’t be able to function in that capacity. However, there’s a piece to this that makes that scenario incorrect,” Koenig states.

If he didn’t have the full attention of those present, he certainly obtained it with that statement.

“Go on.”

“Sir, as with any virus, there are people with immune systems that, for one reason or another, allow them to be carriers without being affected by it. They won’t show symptoms, but will carry the virus. We see that a lot with hepatitis. Anyway, some of our testing concludes that upward of one percent of any given population can become carriers only. That number varies depending on genetics, race, etc.”

“So, you’re saying that we could end up with carriers in the mix?”

“Most definitely, sir.”

“Is that in our contingency for Arctic Storm? I mean, we could have carriers to deal with, right?”

“That’s why we have controls in place for a tight perimeter and the isolation policy written into the operation. And it was designed to be used in remote areas. The cleanup phase of the operation begins seven days after infection, utilizing troops in MOPP gear.”

“Okay, fair enough, back to the situation at hand. In a city of this size…what is it?”

“Close to two hundred thousand, sir.”

“Damn. So that makes a potential of two thousand carriers, if my math is right. But we’re only showing a hundred or so survivors?”

“The number could be skewed one way or the other based on genetic makeup. We haven’t really had much testing to verify our numbers. My concern is that, if it does break out, people are going to flee. My worst-case scenario, if you’ll pardon me, sir, is that some of the carriers manage to make it to other congested areas, including airports. And that’s a real possibility, as some will want to flee as far as they can. We’ve only begun to break ground with regards to the contagion and onset rate as regards carriers. Let’s look at an instance where five carriers get out to an airport and the onset rate is slowed, as we’ve seen with a lot of viral agents. Five people heading five different places. They come into contact with two hundred people. Even if the infection rate also slows to fifty percent, then those one hundred are also traveling. Each one meets up with two hundred more. By the time the first symptoms appear, it will have already been too late.”

“Okay I get the point. How possible is that scenario?”

“That frankly depends on what we do, sir,” Koenig answers. “In my opinion, the chances increase with each hour that we sit in containment mode.”

“So, Colonel, you are suggesting that we proceed with phase two?”

“No, sir. That’s far above my pay grade. I’m only trying to give you information so that you can make an informed choice.”

“Thank you, Colonel. I appreciate your candor. And I want to say thanks to each of you for the job done so far. The question remains, what do I take to the president? What is the consensus here? It’s brass tacks time. I don’t want to influence anyone, so please write your recommendation down and pass it to me.”

Koenig watches on as each of those present scribbles on a sheet of paper and passes it to the secretary of defense. Taking the paper, he places them in his lap under the table. He looks at each paper in turn before turning his attention back to those present.

“Thank you. Now if you’ll pardon me for a moment, I have to speak with the president.”

They all watch on as the secretary of defense picks up one of the hotlines.

Koenig’s hand is trembling and he hides it out of sight it under the desk. His nerves are shot by the situation. He provided the facts that will likely lead to the annihilation of an American city by American soldiers. It’s the right move, but that knowledge does nothing to alleviate his anxiety. Aside from that horror, there will be repercussions following the operation. Glancing at all the shoulders that are home to stars, the eagle currently residing on his seems terribly small. He’s at the bottom of the hill here, and he knows what happens if a boulder of shit starts rolling.

“Mr. President, Secretary Donaldson here. Yes, we have. Yes, we’ve addressed that issue. Yes, Mr. President, that’s the consensus here. Yes, we’re sure. All of us here are under the impression that we can’t wait any longer. I agree, we’ll have to move fast on that one. I’ll make the call as soon I leave here. I will, Mr. President. Good day to you as well, Mr. President.”

With that, he hangs up.

“Okay. We’re go for phase two. The press will be handled through the White House and coordinated with the CDC. This is to be handled by our people and our people only. You’ll remain point on this one, Colonel. I don’t have to tell you that we need to handle this very carefully. Is there anything else that we should cover?”

Everyone shakes their head.

“Very well. We’ll touch base on Arctic Storm after this matter is handled. I’m sure that we all have a lot to do. Keep me briefed.”

With that, the SecDef gathers his folders and leaves.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Hague says, and then the screen blanks.

Koenig continues to stare at the monitor, his mind churning. His greatest fear is that the agent will jump the lines. He knows that if this goes sideways, he’ll be the one to swing. However, at the moment, ARES needs to be kept contained at all costs. He’s no tactics expert, so he is relying on others and hopes they know what they’re doing. They’ve been given explicit guidelines for the operation, but it only takes one mistake. He also knows that the officers running the show on the ground aren’t fools. The fact that they are receiving instructions, even in a roundabout fashion from the USAMRIID, will be indicative of what is going on.

The secondary issue, and probably more relevant in the long run, is keeping the fact that ARES exists a secret. If that becomes known, then Arctic Storm will become a paper exercise. And, they’ll be hard-pressed to ever live down the public outcry and world opinion. They are already being looked at as the world’s bully.

You know what’s in your control and what isn’t. Just stay focused on what you can control.

The thought that he’s in for many more hours of poor food, too much coffee, and too little rest tires him even more.

There’s not enough coffee in the world to deal with this kind of tired
.

“Well, this is going to be fun,” Major Skier states.

“You and I have very differing views on the definition of fun,” Koenig replies. “Well, recess is over. Let’s detail what else needs to be done and then pass the word that phase two of Phoenix is a go. After that, I want you to fly out to the site.”

Outside of Pineville

September 3

Brown would have liked to have put distance between them and the city, but at least they are outside of it. He knows it could have been exponentially worse, were they still within the confines of town. There is no doubt in his mind as to what the warbling and chirping sounds coming from differing parts of the city are: something to draw the infected together. That can only mean that the fireworks aren’t far behind and the nagging feelings he’s had since the bunker are proven true.

“Where are we going?” Hayward asks.

“Anywhere away from that,” Brown answers, pointing toward the chirping sounds. “It would also be nice to find a place to keep us from prying eyes. A deep overhang will work, but a cave would be better.”

“I know where one is,” Emily says. “I’ve never been there because my mom would kill me if she ever found out, but I’ve seen it.”

“How far is this cave?” Brown queries.

“I don’t know. You have to go down the creek until you can see the hills. There’s a place where you can look through the trees and see it. Some of the older kids go there,” Emily replies.

“How long will it take us to get there?”

Emily stares at Brown as if to say, “Didn’t you listen to what I said? I’ve never been there.”

“I really don’t know. It’s not far to where you can see it, but I’ve never climbed the hill.”

“Well, anywhere is better than here, and that sounds as good a place as any. Naptime is over, let’s get going,” Brown says.

They begin plodding in single file along a narrow strip of rocks and sand between the embankment and the stream. The high walls on both sides keep the burbling of the water flowing over the rocks confined within the bed, elevating the sound. Brown constantly casts his gaze skyward and then to his footing. He attempts to mentally drown out the noise of the creek so that he’ll be able to hear any sound of approaching rotors. He would climb out of the creek bed if he wasn’t concerned with the thermal capabilities of the patrolling helicopters.

The creek itself changes little as they slowly make their way along its bank, sometimes having to step into the water itself when their small shelf of land vanishes. At times, the water widens and becomes more placid as the bed deepens, forming pools. Only once do they have to leave the relative safety of the streambed, when it narrows and the water rushes over the rocks, the rapids too strong to be assured of secure footing. Several times, they have to scurry under cover when the sound of an approaching helicopter rises above the noise of the flowing water.

Watching the shadows deepen within the woods, Brown is concerned with their progress and thinks they may have to spend the evening in the forest. With the creek mostly paralleling the town, they haven’t really pushed outward much from the city limits. At some point, and that point being sooner rather than later, they’ll have to work their way away. He’s surprised they haven’t felt the ground shake or heard any explosions.

They must really be waiting to draw as many in as they can before they start pounding them
.

“I think this is the place. If we climb up here, we should be able to see the cave,” Emily states.

Brown is thankful that the slope of the embankment permits them to more or less scramble to the top without having to be expert mountaineers. Emily clambers to the top as if the slope doesn’t exist.

Oh, to be young and able to do that kind of shit again
, Brown thinks, heaving his large frame upward.

“It’s there,” Emily states, pointing through one of the breaks in the branches.

Brown’s enthusiasm that they have come close to reaching another stage in this wonderful journey falters. Barely visible, the cave is anything but close, and it’s near the top of steeply rising terrain. The hillside is bare and is comprised of open sandy areas spotted with boulders. They’ll have to travel slowly and mostly in the open to reach it: not ideal conditions.

Priority one: Stay alive. Priority two: Get away from town
.

He knows that they’ll have to accomplish the second priority in order to achieve the first one, and that will mean leaving the wooded area at some point. Not for the first time does he wish that teleportation were a thing. The fun factor has pretty much run out of the outing, and he’s ready to be done.

A cabin in the woods, fresh water flowing nearby, fishing, hunting, a warm fire in the woodstove at night, and none of this bullshit. Yeah, where are the heels that I click together for that? I don’t care if they’re red, or pink for that matter.

“Well, it’s not ideal, but it’s what we have for now. Let’s get to the edge of the tree line and get a closer look,” Brown comments.

As they make their way through the woods, the trees block the chirping of the noise makers; the sound fading and then vanishing altogether. Walking among the tall trees, their trunks rising high, and with the creek behind him, Brown is struck by the absolute quiet. For the past few hours, there has been nothing but a racket of some kind: sprinklers, alarms, helicopters, the near and far shrieks of the infected. When there were moments of silence, the stress added its own din. Tension is still prevalent, but is more subdued. Even the creek was a constant source of noise. Under the branches, there is only the sound of an occasional leaf crunching under heel—but the quiet is unnerving, like the quiet before the storm.

Brown notes a slight change in the slope of their passage, indicating that they are beginning a gradual climb to the lower slopes of the hills. Increasing light ahead gives way to late afternoon shadows under the canopy of boughs. The tree line is drawing close. With the edge of the woods in sight, Brown stops the group near an old fallen trunk.

“Stay here. I’m going to the tree line to take a look before we go any further,” Brown instructs.

Without waiting for an answer, he scrambles over the trunk, adjusts his hold on the AR, and begins creeping toward the edge. They’ve been able to move with ease through the woods because of the leaves overhead blocking out much of the sky, but the edge of the tree line is a different story, and he’s not able to see past it thanks to the denser foliage. He positions himself near one of the thicker bushes growing along the edge and slowly parts the branches.

Their trek has taken them to the base of the hills. Past the screen of bushes, the terrain begins rising more steeply. Craning his neck upward, the landscape he saw from a distance looks even more forbidding. From his vantage point, the “hill” looks more like a mountain. The face is comprised of rocky outcroppings, loose sand, and boulders—some of which seem precariously balanced.

The cave high up on the hillside is barely visible behind several large rocks perched near the front. Before trying to pick a route, he looks to the sides. The edge of the woods is abrupt and almost linear, following the contours of the land. Just a short distance to his left, the hill plummets down into the valley floor that the city resides upon. In the far distance, he spies two helicopters on patrol. As he witnessed before, one of them takes a nose-down attitude and eases forward. It’s too far away to hear anything, but the action taken is unmistakable given the streaks of light shooting out from the nose.

Yeah, we’re going to have to avoid those
, he thinks, watching as the tracers streak toward the ground.

Brown looks back up the hill, attempting to find the best route. As his eyes trace possible paths, he hears a slithering and several leaves crunch.

Hayward, unless I miss my guess
, Brown thinks without bothering to turn around to validate his assumption.

Brown feels someone settle in just behind him.

“Hey, Sergeant,” Hayward whispers.

“Hey there, ninja,” Brown returns.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“I was being facetious, dumbass. Why are you here?” Brown asks.

“I came up to see if I could help,” Hayward answers.

“If I had wanted you to do that, then you would have heard something like, ‘Hey, Hayward. Why don’t you come up and help?’ Did you hear anything remotely like that?”

“No, Sergeant.”

“I hope you listened to your parents better than that. Well, you’re here so you might as well get something out of it. Knowing our situation and looking at the terrain and where we need to get to, what do you think is the best solution?”

Hayward is quiet for a few moments. “We should use the cover of the boulders as best we can. It’s still daylight, so thermal and IR sensors won’t be as effective in open terrain that’s been warmed by the sun all day. Nighttime would hide us better visually, but would aid their sensors. Plus, we’d have a difficult time navigating the terrain at night without flashlights, and we might just miss the cave. Daytime would allow us to see further and give us more time to hide, although that would give anyone else the same advantage. With regards to sound, that’s pretty much a wash day or night. So, I guess daytime would favor us more. We head up the side going quickly from boulder cover to boulder cover, checking visually before we scurry to the next one.”

“Well, I see that your free education isn’t being entirely wasted,” Brown comments. “Now go get the others.”

With the others gathered, Brown instructs them to fill any remaining space in their packs with dry branches, and then he briefs: “Okay, it’s going to be one hell of a climb and we’re going to be in the open for a lot of it. We’ll need to move as fast as we can from shelter to shelter. If we hear or see a helicopter anywhere in the vicinity, we make for the nearest cover like hell hounds have been released and they have your name. Our goal is to reach the cave without absorbing high-speed metal objects.”

“Huh? What does that mean?” Emily asks.

“He means get to the cave without being shot,” Hayward answers.

“Oh. Because they might think we’re one of them,” Emily says.

“Exactly,” Hayward responds.

“I still don’t get why they’d do that. I mean, we don’t act anything like them,” Emily replies.

“There’s a chance they might act before taking the time to notice the difference.”

“Okay. But, I still don’t get why they’d do that.”

“Are you two done with story time? We need to get going,” Brown states, wondering why it has become quiet within the city.

Maybe they’re just trying to gather more of the infected together. Who knows?

Brown looks through the parted branches again. Seeing that the way is as clear as it’s going to get, he dashes from the cover and into the open. Expecting the ground to erupt in a torrent of bullets, his stomach clenches tighter with each step. Moving around clumps of bushes, he keeps his eyes on the sky in all directions. The only sound is the thudding of his feet and the occasional swish of branches brushing against his clothing. As much as he pumps his legs, the rocks ahead seem to stay the same distance away.

It’s difficult to get a good grip in the loose soil, and the occasional buried rock threatens to upset his footing. His heart begins to thump heavily and beads of sweat form on his forehead. He’s been on his feet for most of the day; that fact becomes telling as he feels his thighs burning.

With a suddenness that seems startling, the rocks loom close and Brown throws himself into their protective covering. The others do the same in rapid succession. The sounds of panting fill their small shelter. Looking around, Brown notes that their dash across the open ground only took them to the very base of the hill. On the other side of the boulders, the ground dramatically steepens.

“It only gets harder from here. Catch your breath quickly; we need to move,” he states.

Brown takes a long look at the surrounding area. There are a few helicopters in the distance, but nothing close. He’s fairly sure their movement won’t be visually detected from that far away. He eyeballs the next place of cover and picks what looks like the best route. With a deep breath, he pushes off and begins scrambling up the incline. His feet slip several inches with each step, slowing his progress. The burn in his thighs deepens the further up he goes. Behind him, he hears the others having similar difficulty. Panting, he reaches the next boulder and looks upward. The cave seems to be no closer, and from his angle, the incline appears to march straight up. He knows that isn’t true, but it is indicative of the weariness he feels. It seems impossible to have gone through everything they have in a single day, let alone what they had to encounter yesterday.

Sooner started, sooner done
, he thinks, looking again to make sure their next sprint is clear.

As they begin to scale the hillside above the level of the trees, the chirping from within the city resumes. It’s faint in the distance, but distinct nonetheless. Each successive climb to the next cover is slower than the last as deep fatigue settles in on all of them. With the exception of Emily, that is. She exhibits the boundless energy of a child.

Brown forces himself to push with his legs as he scales the hill face, heading toward yet another boulder. He hasn’t kept a direct path toward the cave, having to utilize the next nearest cover.

At least this next one will take us closer; we’ll be at almost the same level
, he thinks, pushing upward with one leg and maintaining his balance with his free hand.