Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga (18 page)

Charlie sniffed.
 
"Never better, sir."

Jax nodded.
 
"Just a little fever.
 
I'll be all right."

Bennet grunted.
 
"So you all feel like shit.
 
In that case, sack time is an order.
 
I doubt Intel will have anything for us in the next hour, anyway.
 
Go get some rest—I want you shipshape by the time we find this weasel."

A Marine stepped through the door in full battle rattle.
 
"Adm. Bennet, sir?
 
The President wants to speak with you, sir."

Bennet turned back to the SEALs.
 
"Well, this should be fun."

"Good luck, sir," said Charlie.
 
The men came to attention.

Bennet waved them off with an informal salute.
 
"Get some rest, Braaten.
 
All of you—that's an order."
 
Without waiting for a response, the Admiral turned and followed the Marine out into the hallway.

Cooper sneezed.
 
"You heard the man."

Charlie turned to look at Cooper and Jax.
 
"You guys look like shit."

"Yeah well, you wait till your vaccine kicks in—then we'll talk, jackass," muttered Jax.
 

Cooper led the way into the hallway toward their quarters.
 
His thoughts wandered back to 13.
 
Wherever the hell you are, I hope you're okay.
 
Get that kid to safety and get your ass back to Reginald.
 
I don't know how much longer I can wait.

A woman wearing surgical scrubs walked past them and nodded.
 
She had Brenda's face.
 
Cooper froze and Charlie ran into him from behind.
 

"The fuck, man?" Charlie grunted.

Cooper spun and looked at the nurse as she turned and entered a side room.
 
She looked back at him.
 
She had the same auburn hair and shared Brenda's height, but her face looked nothing like Brenda's.
 
She disappeared and shut the door behind her.

Brenda's dead…

"I know that look…" said Charlie.
 
He turned Cooper around and shoved him forward down the hallway.
 

"I saw—"

"You don't know what the hell you saw, but I do.
 
Just keep going," Charlie whispered.
 
"I still think I see Allie sometimes…"

Brenda's dead…

Cooper's hands hardened into fists.
 
Hurry up, 13…

C
HAPTER
18

Skye, Scotland.

Dunkeith Castle.

I
T
'
S
TIME
,
SIR
,
"
DRONED
Stefan's voice.

Reginald looked up from his paperwork and nodded.
 
"Very well, start the transmission.
 
I'll be there shortly."
 
He stood and dropped the reports from his Chinese partners back on his desk.
 
The first case of the weaponized flu had been confirmed in Kai Ho, a port on the southeastern coast.
 
Understandably, Chinese officials had already locked down the country.
 
They'd seen what had transpired in Europe.
 
The infection rate in Germany alone had rocketed higher than in the United States—thanks to what Reginald assumed was the higher population density in cities.
 

He shook his head in disgust as he pulled on his suit coat.
 
And now Harris has the vaccine.
 
He'd already received reports from his people in Denver that the military was dosing soldiers and preparing to deliver the vaccine to the local civilians.
 

Bloody Americans.

He walked away from the ornate desk, hand-carved for one of his distant ancestors.
 
A guard met him in the hall and shut the door behind him, securing it before resuming his place.
 
Reginald nodded and strolled briefly through the grand West Hall of Castle Dunkeith.
 

His comms room was a replica of the one in the chalet, but on a larger scale.
 
As he stepped through the door, Stefan stood from his terminal, and pulled back a chair for Reginald.
 
On the large semicircle desk in front of the chair sat a plate of food and a glass of water with the crystal carafe nearby.
 
A ring of monitors surrounded the desk.
 
Each one held the face of a different member of the Council.
 

Reginald smiled.
 
His setup was almost as ornate as the King's own.
 
He looked around the room, taking in the medieval tapestries and subtle carvings that decorated the otherwise austere room.
 
For a moment, he allowed himself to fantasize that he was the king, and that this was the Council control room.
 
He took his seat and waved Stefan away, waiting until he heard the door shut behind him before he focused on the screens.

He cleared his throat and hit the button that activated his cameras.
 
"Your Majesty," Reginald said.
 
"I'm afraid I've bad news."

The King nodded.
 
He looked as if he'd aged five years in the past 24 hours.
 
Dark circles marred the skin under his eyes.
 
The regal mane was decidedly less than the normal perfection.
 
Even kings lost sleep in a crisis.

"We've been intercepting a lot of activity from our friends in China.
 
Is it…?"

Reginald nodded.
 
"I'm afraid so, sire."

"Where?" barked Murata-san.

Reginald turned to glance at the Kings Lieutenant.
 
"Kai Ho."

Murata's face paled.
 
He turned and said something off camera.
 
Returning his attention, he said in a grave voice, "Majesty, we must have the vaccine, and we must have it
now!
 
This was never supposed to happen!
 
If that virus gets loose in China…there'll be no stopping it—"

"I fear Lord Murata is more right than he knows.
 
I received reports that the local hospital taking care of China's patient zero has been shut down."

"Shut down?" asked the King.

"They put it under quarantine, Majesty."
 
Reginald shook his head.
 
"I have it on good authority, however that a few people who might have possibly come in contact with the patient are missing."

More than a few of the assembled Council members groaned and companied.
 
Opinions flew back and forth on how best to handle the situation and who was to blame.
 

"Of all the ineptitude—" began Dame Ainslie.

"One would think the events in Europe would give them plenty of warning…" growled Lord Stirling.
 
"They had
one
patient—"

"Easy for you to say, locked away on your island," snapped Hans Baumgartner.
 
"Have you seen Cologne?" he demanded, red-faced.

"
Enough!"
roared the King.
 
"We have precious little time and we need to use it wisely."

Reginald waited.
 
He noticed two familiar faces on the Council were absent from their screens.
 
"Majesty if I may?" he asked.

The King nodded, rubbing his temples.

"Where is Don Marcos?"

The King sighed.
 
"We've been unsuccessful in reaching him.
 
Valerio
 
and Lady Katrin are missing."

"I spoke with Lady Katrin just last night.
 
She informed me she was evacuating her city household and moving to her country estate."
 
Lady Brun's eyes looked large, her cheeks flushed.
 
To Reginald, she appeared nervous but beautiful.

"A sound proposition," replied the King.
 
"I did so myself already.
 
I recommend every one of you do the same—things will only get worse before long."

"Where are the vaccines?" demanded Murata.
 
"Dunkeith promised we would have them before any of this occurred!
 
If you had delivered on your promise, the Chinese government would not be dealing with—"

"My secured production facility has been destroyed," Reginald said.

That got their immediate attention.
 
The arguing stopped as if he'd announced the King had been born on Mars.

"Explain," said the King.
 

Reginald swallowed and spoke.
 
"Members of a task force—I'm assuming they were from Germany—penetrated my security and destroyed the research and production facility."

"How bad is it?" demanded the King.

Reginald looked down at his hands.
 
"Nearly a total loss, sire.
 
They were very thorough in their destruction."

Murata exploded.
 
"This…is…intolerable!"

"How can this have happened?" snapped the King.

Reginald shook his head.
 
"At first I thought it had been the Americans.
 
But my informants are very highly placed.
 
It was not them.
 
This was KSK and COS to be sure.
 
I was lucky to escape with my life."

"I have seen nothing suggesting the Germans and French took action," muttered Lord Stirling.

"Could it have been the SAS?" asked Reginald.

"I can assure you, Dunkeith, the SAS had nothing to do with this alleged raid.
 
I have sources equally high in the British government—our boys were nowhere near Switzerland."

"Well, whoever it was, they destroyed my production facility, and nearly all the vaccine samples.
 
We must start all over now."

"God help us," Lady Brunner whispered.
 

"I did, however, take precautions," Reginald continued. "Prior to the attack, I prepared enough vaccines for every person on the Council and their spouses.
 
I have them with me here."
 

He held up a vial, filled with an amber liquid.
 
"This is one of them.
 
I can access facilities here in Scotland that will allow me to produce this in mass quantities.
 
Perhaps even faster than what I could've done in Switzerland.
 
I can use the samples meant for us to reproduce more.
 
The only thing I lack is the funds to do it here without drawing undue attention."

Here it comes.

"What do you mean funds?
 
How much more do you need?
 
We've already given you—" began Lord Stirling.

"The money earmarked for my operating group has already been spent, Lord Stirling: equipment, supplies, payroll, security, and facility management.
 
When my lab was destroyed, we lost everything."

"How? Don't you have other facilities…?" asked Stirling.

"I do, but we had not yet fully-equipped them up to produce the vaccine.
 
We needed to perfect the formula first.
 
I had just made that breakthrough when this attack fouled up everything."

Reginald leaned back in his chair and listened with glee as the Council devolved into a roiling snake-pit of arguments for and against financing him.
 
Through it all, only the King and Murata remained silent.
 

Someone leaned in and whispered something to Murata.
 
His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
 
The King stared straight ahead and watched.
 
That was more unnerving to Reginald than anything.
 

It was as if the King stared straight through him, reading his lies.
 
Reginald summoned all his willpower to maintain his facade.
 
He could not afford to let them detect the truth now.
 
He'd crossed the Rubicon—deceiving the Council was punishable by death.
 
A death sentence from the King would guarantee a long visit with pain prior to the final blow.

"You seem to be handling this pretty well," observed Legrand.

"He's telling the truth," said the tight voice of Lady Brunner.
 

Reginald's interest piqued.
 
He turned to look at the monitor that barely contained the gracious loveliness of the junior Councilwoman from Austria.
 

"I'm looking at satellite imagery over the last 24 hours," she said, her mesmerizing eyes cast offscreen.
 
"I'm sending the data to you all now.
 
From what I can see, Earl Dunkeith left less than an hour before the assault team descended upon the mountain.
 
It was a total loss, Majesty."