Payback (15 page)

And if
they should die?

Secret
burials were now common.

Which
usually meant in improper burial.

Tradition
had relatives washing and dressing the bodies which meant exposure to the
pathogen and probable infection. The law in the outbreak countries now required
all bodies of infected individuals to be collected and buried by qualified
personnel wearing personal protective equipment.

And the
mother this young girl was protecting from the outside world was definitely
sick, but appeared to be in the early stages.

Which
meant they couldn’t be sure she had Ebola.

The
initial symptoms were flu-like, and it was flu season, which was the very
purpose of the first zone in their quarantine area. To isolate the possibly ill
until their blood tests came back either negative or positive.

Sarah
realized she must look terrifying to the poor girl, perhaps fifteen. Sarah was
dressed head to toe in gear to protect herself from becoming infected, to take
care of the sick, but it also was a barrier to humanity. But there was no
choice, the risk simply too great.

“Listen,
we aren’t sure she has it yet. If she comes with us, we might be able to save
her.”

The girl
opened her eyes, wide. “You save her?”

“I’ll
try.”

She
stepped back and nodded furiously. “You take, you take my mama. You save her.”

Sarah
stepped to the bed and helped the equally terrified woman to her feet. She clearly
was having some difficulty, but at this stage seemed more tired and weak than
anything else. Sarah hoped the poor woman only had the flu, but with the
severity of the outbreak in this small village, she feared the worst.

The walk
to the community center was short, it only a few hundred feet from the home.
Tanya was working another part of the town, it decided they should split up.
Sarah had asked that Koroma go with Tanya, to protect her just in case one of
the men got any ideas. She was working with Mustapha who appeared to be an
officer and very close to Koroma.

It
confused her.

Most of
the men seemed to be professional soldiers, well behaved so far with the
exception of the driver. Yes they had murdered Jacques, but if what they were
doing in their eyes was fighting a war, they could probably justify his killing
to themselves. She could never condone it, especially the brutal way in which
it had been done.

She had
slept in the truck for several hours but her dreams had been nightmares,
nothing but images of Jacques and her loved ones being beheaded over and over
again, and she dreaded going to sleep tonight, but also looked forward to it.
She was exhausted, and it was still mid-afternoon.

They put
the new arrival in Zone One as they had begun to refer to it. Half a dozen were
in there now, all with early symptoms that could be any number of things.
Sheets from the villagers had been strung to provide for lack of a better term
‘sneeze guards’ between these patients. Once past Zone One, there was no need,
and they would only hinder their care, a clear line of sight needed since she
and Tanya were working essentially alone. But she was determined to do her
best. The longer she could prove useful, the longer she might stay alive.

How
can we possibly help these people? There’s only the two of us!

She feared
that if their captors thought they couldn’t handle the job more doctors might
be kidnapped and she didn’t want anyone else to have to go through what they
were going through.

She
sighed. “I really wish we were able to test their blood,” she said to no one in
particular.

“What
would you need?”

She
turned toward Mustapha. “Well, in those supplies you managed to steal there was
a portable scanning electron microscope but none of the supplies it needs.
Really all we need are slides, needles. Not much. If we could do the blood
tests then we could at least confirm if these people are infected or not.”

Mustapha
smiled. “I’ll be back.”

He
quickly left, replaced only moments later by Tanya who was helping an elderly
man into the room suffering from a cough and what appeared to be fever. She
helped him onto one of the makeshift mattresses—generous piles of straw covered
in blankets. She handed him some water then walked over to Sarah.

“I need
to talk to you,” she whispered.

Sarah
could tell by her tone that it was something she couldn’t risk anyone else
overhearing. Tanya looked over at the door, Sarah following her gaze. Major Koroma
was standing there, his hands on his hips, staring at them.

“It’s
time we check on the other patients in Zones Two and Three.”

He
nodded and left as Sarah pushed aside the sheet separating them from the
infected patients. Out of sight of any of the soldiers, she pressed her head
against Tanya’s so they could speak quietly. “What is it?”

“I
overheard their conversation at lunch.”

“So did
I but I didn’t understand any of it. Did you?”

Tanya
nodded. “Yes. The major said he’s going to America soon.”

Sarah’s
chest tightened, her eyes narrowing. “But why?”

“I don’t
know, but I think they killed their own Vice President while he was visiting
your country. I think it’s all part of a plan to get the major into the United
States.”

Sarah
shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. These people don’t seem like
terrorists to me. They seem to just want to help their people. Why go to the
US?”

Tanya
shrugged in her suit, the plastic rustling with the effort. “I don’t know, but
there’s one thing I’m sure of.”

“What’s
that?”

“Once he
leaves, it will be open season on us.”

Over the Atlantic Ocean

“What have you found?”

Dawson
had his laptop open in front of him on the Gulf V they were using for transport
to Sierra Leone. Besides his team of four there were several FBI and other
agency specialists hitching a ride. It was good cover for them, they carrying
Bureau of Diplomatic Security IDs themselves. It would allow them to land in
Freetown and simply blend with the team then split off when they needed. The
story had broken already though with the restrictions in place due to the
outbreak, the Sierra Leoneans had assured them a private landing free of the
press.

He
wasn’t counting on it.

On the
laptop Master Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme was giving them an update, having taken
over the stateside investigation after the hospital murder-suicide. Niner,
Atlas and Jimmy were gathered near the rear of the plane, listening in.

“Not
much so far. The guy you took down is Dia Conteh. He worked at the hospital for
over ten years and has an apartment nearby with a wife and four kids. He got
his citizenship six years ago and has a clean record, not even a parking
ticket. This guy was a model citizen.”

“Any
links to known cells?”

“Negative.
This guy had a cellphone that he barely used, no home phone, no computer or
Internet access and had basic cable—none of the red flag channels like
Al-Jazeera.”

“I take
it you’ve searched the apartment?”

“Yes,
but the FBI got to it first. They say they found nothing. They’ve got a
forensics team going over it and the car with a fine-toothed comb. If there’s
anything to find, they’ll find it, but I’m not optimistic. From all outward
appearances this was just a normal guy, happy to be here and good at his job.”

“What
about volunteer work?” asked Niner. “He had to have had some contacts with the
old country in order to have been recruited.”

“We’ve
got a lead on a drop-in center that the wife mentioned. We’re heading there now.”

“Okay,
keep us posted. This guy doesn’t sound like a ringleader, which means somebody
gave this guy his orders after the hostage taking. There’s more out there and
we need to find them.”

“Roger
that, BD. I’ll contact you when I have something, out.”

Dawson
snapped the laptop shut as his team took their seats around the table, the Gulfstream
V configured perfectly for quick four man meetings. “What’re you thinking, BD?”

Dawson
looked at Niner. “They’ve been able to identify all the HTs from Norfolk, plus
this new guy. They all grew up within fifty miles of each other in Sierra
Leone, most are Muslim but two are Christian, all but two are American
citizens, and none have any significant criminal record. There was no Islamic
paraphernalia found at their residences and they had no history of radicalism.”

“And how
do you radicalize the two Christians?” asked Niner. “The briefing notes said
they weren’t converts.”

“That’s
right,” said Dawson, tapping the laptop containing their notes. “And there was
no evidence they were political, no evidence that they were anything but
upstanding citizens, so what are they up to?”

Atlas’
voice boomed. “That ‘For my people’ thing makes me think this is political but
not religious. Could it be related to the Ebola outbreak? Maybe they want us to
put more of an effort into stopping it?”

Jimmy
shook his head. “Then why not make those demands? They said not word one about
the outbreak. The only thing that links the outbreak to any of this is where
they were born.”

“Not
entirely true,” said Dawson. “We have to assume that the kidnapping of Sarah
Henderson is connected.”

“Do we?”
Jimmy raised his hand. “Give me a second. I agree that they almost definitely
are linked, but should we be making the assumption it is Ebola related? One of
the guys in Sierra Leone has been identified, this Major Koroma. He’s from the
same area as the others, so it’s reasonable to assume there is a link. Not only
that, the timing is simply too coincidental, so I agree they’re linked. But I
think it’s dangerous to assume this is Ebola related, because if we do, then we
risk thinking their motivations are altruistic—”

“Ooh,
big word!” interrupted Niner with a wink.

“Don’t
tease just because you don’t know what it means.” Niner opened his mouth to
protest but Jimmy slapped a hand over his friend’s mouth. “I’ll dumb it down
for my friend. If we assume Ebola, then we risk thinking these people are doing
this for
humanitarian
reasons, so therefore ultimately have noble goals
that we can identify with, rather than what we’re used to—the establishment of
a worldwide Islamic Caliphate. We can’t assume their motives are noble.”

“Agreed,”
said Dawson. “Clearly they’re willing to kill for their cause, and die for
their cause. There’s too many dead hostages in Norfolk to deny that. And you’re
right, we can’t go into this with assumptions that blind us to other
possibilities. But with them taking two doctors and medical supplies, we have
to assume Ebola is at least at the periphery of this. And that in my mind makes
them even more dangerous than what we’re used to dealing with.”

Niner
nodded. “They could be infected.”

“That’s
a distinct possibility. While we’re in-country we’ll have to observe all
protocols and avoid all unnecessary contact. No handshaking, no touching
anything we don’t need to touch. If we get into a combat situation, shoot them
at a distance if you can.”

“Man, if
we start having to shoot people, and even just one of them is infected, we
could all be exposed in a heartbeat.”

It was
Atlas that triggered the moment of reflection, none of the men saying anything
as Dawson was sure they all thought of their loved ones. Thoughts of Maggie on
the other side of an isolation chamber window, his mother, his sister and
niece.

His
brothers in arms.

A member
of the flight crew walked down the aisle toward them.

“We’re
beginning our descent, gentlemen.”

Dawson
nodded. “Thanks.”

And as
he felt the plane begin to lose altitude, he couldn’t help but look at his team
and wonder if they would all make it out of this alive, this unlike any
situation they had ever encountered.

For
today they not only faced an enemy whose motives they knew nothing about, but Mother
Nature as well.

In her
deadliest form.

Somewhere in Sierra Leone

“Will this help?”

Sarah
turned to see Mustapha holding open a bag, a smile on his face.

“What’s
that?”

“Slides
and everything else I could find.”

A grin
broke out on Sarah’s face. “Show me!” She stepped forward, eagerly rooting
through the bag before Mustapha even had a chance to finish putting it on the
floor. “Where did you get this?”

“There’s
an old clinic that was abandoned during the civil war. It was all just left to
rot.”

Sarah
paused her inventorying for a second. “A clinic? Is it set up for patients?”
She glanced over her shoulder at her own makeshift treatment center, wondering
if it had all been a wasted effort when there was something else nearby.

Mustapha
shook his head. “No, Doctor, its roof was torn off years ago in a storm. The
only reason this stuff survived was because it was in a storage locker.”

“And no
one stole it?”

Mustapha
smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Everything of value was looted over a decade
ago. Nobody’s paid it any mind since.”

“But these
supplies, they’re worth a lot of money.”

“If you
can’t eat it or barter it to someone else who thinks they can eat it or barter
it, it’s not worth anything.”

Sarah nodded,
realizing that electron microscope supplies in rural West Africa were only
valuable to a medical professional, and those were few and far between here. But
one man’s junk…

“This is
fantastic,” she said as she finished rifling through the bag, it containing everything
she would need to test at least one hundred people. The only problem now was
finding the time to do the tests, it something she couldn’t really trust to
anyone but her or Tanya. She stood up, looking around. “I don’t want to do the
testing in the treatment center because of possible cross-contamination. Is
there another room or building we could use?”