The Atlantis Plague (17 page)

“He may have been.” Rukin took another pull on the cigarette. David sensed something changing.
Is he changing his approach?

“He’s in southern Spain, leading the invasion. He deployed almost everyone. We’re running a skeleton crew. Our station chief, Colonel Garrott, got picked off two days ago. Stupid son of a bitch was making the rounds, visiting every guard tower, shaking hands like he’d been elected mayor of hell. Berber sniper got him with one shot. We assume the shooter was in the hills, that’s why we added the patrols. And the boomerangs on the perimeter. Now I need to know why you’re here.”

Yes, Rukin was giving him useless details, hoping David would reciprocate, tell his story, make a mistake. “I’m here for a job.”

“What—”

“It’s classified,” David said, turning to face Rukin.
How long do I have? Maybe an hour before he finds out I’m a fake? At best, I can buy some time.
“Call it in. If you have the clearance, they’ll tell you.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“The explosion.” Rukin read David’s face. “You don’t know?”

“Apparently not.”

“Someone exploded a sub-nuclear device at Immari HQ in Germany,” Rukin said. “Nobody’s calling anything in right now, especially covert ops verifications.”

David failed to hide his surprise. But… it was the opening he needed. “I’ve… been in transit, with no comms.”

“From?”

Now the test. “Recife,” David said.

Rukin leaned forward. “There’s no Clocktower station in Recife—”

“We were in startup when the analyst purge began. Then the plague hit. I barely got out. I’ve been on special assignment since.”

“Interesting. That’s a really interesting
story
, Colonel. Here’s the reality: if you don’t tell me who you are and why you’re here
right now
, I’ll have to hold you in a cell until I can verify your identity. It’s my ass if I don’t.”

David stared at him. “You’re right. It’s… operational secrecy. Old habit. Maybe I was a Clocktower operative for too long.” Then David gave the story he had been working on since he crossed the first gate. “I’m here to help secure this base. You know how important Ceuta is to the cause. My name is Alex Wells. If HQ is destroyed, there’s bound to be someone from special ops directorate that can verify me.”

Rukin scribbled some notes on a pad. “I’ll have to confine you to quarters under guard until then. You understand, Colonel.”

“I understand,” David said.
I’ve bought some time.
Would it be enough to get out of here? One goal dominated David’s mind: finding Kate. He needed information to do that. “I do have one… request. As I said, I’ve been in transit. I’d like to hear any updates you have. Anything unclassified, of course.”

Rukin sat back in the metal chair, seeming to relax for the first time. “The rumor is that Dorian Sloane has returned. Naturally he was arrested outside the Antarctica structure. But they say he carried a case. The morons in charge took that case back to HQ and it blew up the building. Darwinism at work, if you ask me.”

“What happened to Sloane?”

“That’s the strangest part. The story is that in interrogation, he killed a guard and ripped open Chairman Sanders’ throat. Then, get this, they kill him—double tap to the head, close range. An hour later, he walks out of the structure. A completely new body—with all his memories. Not a scratch on him.”

“Impossible…”

“And then some. The Immari are desperate to create this mythical story around him. It’s working. The rank and file worship him now. The end of days, Messiah, rapture rhetoric… here in Ceuta and every other place that flies the Immari flag. It’s nauseating.”

“You’re not a believer?”

“I believe the whole world is circling the drain and Immari International is the only piece of shit that floats.”

“Then… let’s hope it continues to float. Major, I’m a bit exhausted from my trip.”

“Sure.”

Rukin called two soldiers in and instructed them to escort David to quarters and arrange for round-the-clock guard.

Alexander Rukin stubbed out the cigarette and stared at the words on the page.

The door opened, and Captain Kamau, his second-in-command, entered.

The tall African spoke slowly in a deep voice. “You buy his story, sir?”

“Sure. It’s about as real as the Easter Bunny.” Rukin lit another cigarette and peered into the pack. Three left.

“Who is he?”

“No idea. He’s somebody though. A pro. Maybe one of ours, probably one of theirs.”

“You want me to call it in?”

“Please.” Rukin handed him the strip of paper. “And put him under heavy guard. Make sure he sees nothing more than what the Allies can already see from the air.”

“Yes, sir.” Kamau studied the ship of paper. “Colonel Alex Wells?”

Rukin nodded. “I’m not certain it’s a fake name, but it’s strangely similar to Arthur Wellesley.”

“Wellesley?”

“The Duke of Wellington. Defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo. Never mind.”

“If he’s a fake, why don’t we take him now? Interrogate him?”

“You’re a good soldier, Kamau, but you’re lousy at intelligence work. We need to know what we’re dealing with here. He could lead us to a bigger fish or reveal a larger operation at work. Sometimes you use the small fish as bait.”

The major stubbed out the cigarette. He was good at waiting. “Bring him a girl. See if he’s more talkative with her.” He glanced at the cigarette pack again. “And get me some more smokes.”

“The commissary ran out yesterday, sir.” Kamau paused. “But I heard Lieutenant Shaw won some in a card game last night.”

“Really? It’s too bad they got stolen. Some men are sore losers.”

“I’ll see to it, sir.”

David rubbed his eyelids. He was certain of two things: that Major Rukin hadn’t bought his story, and that he couldn’t shoot his way out of here. David decided he would rest, then try to take the guards at the door. After that, he wasn’t sure.

A soft knock interrupted his internal debate.

David stood. “Come in.”

A thin woman with flowing black hair and light caramel skin stepped in, quickly closing the door behind her. “Compliments of Major Rukin,” she said softly, not looking at him.

The girl was beautiful, truly. The more of this world David saw, the less he liked it.

“You can go.”

“Please—”

“Go,” David insisted.

“Please, Mister. There will be trouble for me if you turn me away.”

In his mind’s eye, David saw the girl climbing on top of him after he’d fallen asleep and running a knife blade across his throat. He wouldn’t put it past Rukin. He couldn’t take the risk. “There could be trouble for me if you stay. Go. I won’t tell you again.”

She exited without another word.

Another knock, more urgent this time.

“I said no—”

The door opened, revealing a tall African man. He nodded to the two guards and walked in, closing the door firmly.

A single phrase ran through David’s mind.
Game Over.
“Kamau,” he whispered.

“Hello, David.”

CHAPTER 37

Immari Operations Base at Ceuta
Northern Morocco

For a long moment, neither David nor Kamau said a word. They simply stood there, staring at each other.

David broke the silence. “Have you come to take me to the major?”

“No.”

“Have you told him who I am?”

“No. Nor will I.”

A single question ran through David’s mind: What side is he on? He needed a way to test Kamau’s allegiances without revealing his own. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because you have not told him. I believe you have not done so for a reason, though I do not know what it is. Three years ago, you saved my life in the Gulf of Aden.”

David remembered the operation: a combined Clocktower strike force from several stations had worked to dismantle a pirate ring. Kamau had been an operative from the Nairobi station. He was a skilled soldier who had simply been unlucky that day. His team had boarded the second of three pirate ships and they had quickly been overrun—it had been impossible to estimate the number of combatants inside each ship. David’s team had secured their boat, then moved to reinforce Kamau’s team. It had been too late for many of the members.

Kamau continued. “I had never seen anyone fight the way you did. I have not since. If keeping your identity a secret can help repay my debt to you, I will keep it. And I will help you, if you want it, if you are here to do what I believe you will.”

Was it bait, David wondered, to draw him out? In his mind, he inched toward trusting Kamau. He needed more information. “How’d you end up here?”

“I took a piece of shrapnel in the leg three months ago. Clocktower gave me medical leave, and I wanted to get out of Nairobi. I had family in Tangier. I recuperated there until the plague hit. It wiped the city out in a few days. I made my way here. They gave all the Clocktower operatives commissions in the Immari Army. I was assigned the rank of captain. Station chiefs were made lieutenant colonels, which is partly why Major Rukin believes your story. Northern Africa is dangerous for anyone alone, even a soldier. I took refuge here; I had no other choice.”

“What is this place?”

Kamau looked confused. “You do not know?”

David focused on him. The next answer would reveal where Kamau came out, what he really believed. “I want to hear it from you.”

Kamau straightened. “This is a wretched place. Hell’s doorstep. It is a processing center. A place where they bring the survivors from Africa and the islands of the Mediterranean. And soon, those from southern Spain.”

“Survivors…” David said. Then it occurred to him. “Of the plague.”

Kamau looked at him with even more confusion.

“I’ve been… out of the loop for a while. I need you to bring me up to speed.”

Kamau told him about the global outbreak and the fall of nations around the world. The rise of the Orchid Districts and the Immari master plan. David took it in. It was truly a nightmare scenario.

“They bring the survivors here,” David said. “What do they do with them?”

“They separate the strong from the weak.”

“What do they do with the weak?”

“They send them back, on the plague barges. They feed them to the sea.”

David sat down at the table, trying to grasp the horror.
Why?

Kamau seemed to read David’s mind. “The Immari are building an army. The largest in history. The rumor is that they found something in Antarctica. But there are so many rumors. They say Dorian Sloane has returned. That he cannot be killed. What Rukin told you is true: there was an explosion yesterday in Germany, at the Immari Headquarters. There is talk of all-out war, but the Allies have another problem. They say that their miracle drug, Orchid, no longer works, that the wave of death has restarted around the world. People believe this is the end.”

David rubbed his temples. “You said you thought you knew why I was here.”

Kamau nodded. “You are here to destroy this place, are you not?”

As the words were spoken, David made up his mind. Was this the measure of a soldier, to fight a just fight, even if it was lost? What else could he do? He desperately wanted to find Kate, but he wouldn’t run, not from this. In that moment, more than any other in his life, he knew what he was. He would die fighting. Actually, it was becoming a habit for him. He tried not to think about that, about awakening in the tubes, about what he was. Here and now—that was what mattered. “Yes. I’m here to destroy this place. You said you would help me?”

“I will.”

David eyed Kamau, still trying to decide whether he trusted him. “Why haven’t you tried before? You’ve been here for…”

“Two months.” Kamau paced away from David. “I did not know the Immari plan before I arrived here. Nor did I know Clocktower was their covert ops branch. I was shocked and horrified when I learned the truth.”

David knew the feeling. He let Kamau continue.

“I was trapped here in Ceuta. The world was desperate. I only knew that survivors came here and found refuge. I had no idea… that I would make a deal with the devil to survive. There was no way for me to take the base. I had no choice. Before yesterday, there were almost a hundred thousand Immari troops stationed here.”