Endemic Rise of the Plague (5 page)

The ordinarily soundless, library-like halls of Angora echoed with the sound of combat boots trudging down the hallway. Eight men marched through in soldierly fashion. Dressed in black, they all wore steel-toe boots, cargo pants and short-sleeve button up shirts. Their shirts all have silver and bronze badges pinned to the left-side of the chest and are embroidered on the back, across the shoulders with the word SECURITY. Each has a utility belt around the waist, which holds a
satellite phone, a heavy duty flashlight, a hunting knife and a Beretta 9A1 pistol with two spare seventeen-round magazines.

Despite the expansive floor space, large enough to house at least six decently sized laboratories, the top floor of Angora holds only two rooms. The
first, is largest conference room in the building, capable of accommodating up to two hundred people. The meeting hall, as it is referred to, caters to semi-annual personnel meetings, holiday functions and annual Board of Directors assemblies. The second, is the Chairman's office. Elevators occupy the north and south ends of the floor and there are two stairwells located on opposite corners—a general stairwell to the northeast and a maintenance stairwell on the southwest.

The men made their way to the entrance of the Chairman's office, which is marked with double doors, framed in oak, containing frosted glass with the name James Meadows etched. No title is etched, as he is a man that needs no introduction, the founder and chairman of Angora Laboratories. Within the doors, an intimate reception area creates an atmosphere of tranquility. A black leather loveseat nests along the wall on the right, and is mirrored by an identical one along the left wall. Half a dozen enlarged newspaper and magazine articles featuring Angora and James Meadows, within frames, are interspersed around the room. Gentle sounds of flowing water filter through two ceiling speakers at either end of the room. Muted lighting combined with taupe colored walls
are pleasing to the senses in comparison to the harsh white walls that encompass the remainder of the building’s interior. A modest desk is posted to the right of an oversized oak door on the back wall.

James’ cagey looking assistant rose from her chair behind the desk as the men entered.
“Go right in, he's waiting for you,” she whispered, her eyes darting around skittishly.

The men said nothing, forging past her and opening the massive door. Marching inside the office in silence, they bluntly shut the door behind them.

Inside the chairman’s office, Dr. Brandenburg sat in a guest chair with her back to the door. James rose from his seat at his desk, striding toward the security team with a cavalier posturing, extending his hand.

“
Randy. Thank you for getting the troops together and meeting with me so quickly.”

Randy shook James' hand formally. Standing before the Chairman at six foot-five, 235 pounds, in his early twenties, Randy felt certain that the work he does for James makes a difference. Randy smoothed his short, dark brown hair, grazing the spikes on the top. A cleanly shaven face revealed his darkly tanned skin and spotlighted his
vivid blue eyes. Being in incredible shape, fitness is an obsession for him. As head of Angora Security, he holds his position with Angora in high regard. His job entails monitoring the entire building and surrounding property, with the help of his thirteen subordinates. He had been a in the military prior to working at Angora, as have many of the other guards employed at the facility. He utilized that same military mentality when it came to his job. He demanded perfection from his men, from their work ethic to their attire.

“
Not a problem, sir. You mentioned an urgent situation, I ordered all seven of our core guards in,” Randy said officially.

James beamed, “You run a tight ship, Randy. In fifteen minutes, you managed to get all seven, including some off-duty guards, uniformed and in my office.
”

Randy let a smirk sneak across his face. His eyes shifted to Mara, highlighting papers on James’ desk, looking more like a school teacher grading assignments than a scientist.

“We should get down to business,” James began. “You are welcome to take a seat, but this shouldn't take long,” he motioned to two more leather couches on the left and the conference table to the right, as he walked back to his desk.

The guards remained stationary, their eyes gazing attentively at James.

James’s office is colossal in size, utilizing enough floor space to encompass two ordinary three bedroom homes. The Port Steward facing wall, made entirely of tinted glass, is by far the most prominent feature to the space. His oversized oak desk is positioned before the glass wall, facing the entrance to his office. Floor to ceiling book shelves created with the same finish as the desk, wrap around the room displaying his favorite books, awards and other accolades that he and Angora have received over the years. The lighting in this expansive room is soft, giving it comfortable ambiance.

“
Okay, then. We have a situation. The likes, I cannot fully discuss with all of you for security and confidentiality reasons. What I need, is for you to locate four individuals. They were here at the flu shot clinic this morning. It is of the highest importance that they be brought back to Angora as soon as humanly possible. This is completely off the books. No logs are to be written, secure radio protocol to be utilized. I am looking at you all as a specialized task force. This is a matter of extreme confidentiality. No one is to know what you are working on. In addition, I need you all to stay on task with this until all four patients are returned to Angora,” James paused.

“
Sir, Buzz, here. If you don't mind me asking, are the patients ill or contagious?” Buzz asked, clearing his throat.

“
Hmm, well that is a good question Buzz. The answer to that is a little tricky,” James paused again, as if he were thinking about what to divulge to them. “Here it is, and this is what you should tell them, when you find them. They have a virus. They contracted the virus roughly three hours ago. They will die from this virus without treatment. The incubation period is about four to seven hours. That means in one to four hours these people will be dead. The virus is contracted through the blood stream, so beware of any wounds. We want to save these people, and need to get them here right away.”

Mara stood and handed four sheets of highlighted paper to Randy.

“This is all the information we have on the patients,” Mara began, “You will find contact numbers and addresses for both—home and work, as well as emergency contacts and so on. I have already sent this information to your phone, Randy. You can forward it to your team members, if it would be more efficient for you access the information that way.”

“
We won't let you down sir. Let's go boys,” Randy said, before turning back to James. “Oh, and sir, if they refuse our invitation to return to Angora?”

“
Any and all necessary force, we need them back here no matter what. I hope that we can get to them in time, before the virus takes their lives. But either way, we need them back here.”

“Understood
sir,”

“Oh, and Randy, again, good job on the assignment this afternoon,” James said cryptically.

“Thank you sir,” Randy grinned, closing the door behind him.

James looked out the glass wall behind his desk at the town of Port Steward, sometimes referred to as The Port by locals or
The Witch’s Boot
by tourists. It is shaped very much how it sounds. The town is almost an island, except for a one hundred and fifty foot diameter, bottleneck that connects the town to the mainland or what would look like the shaft of the boot. The area from the tip of the boot’s toe to the bottleneck is called the cape. The land on the cape is shaped like an elongated crescent and with salty ocean waves lapping on the shores. A small marina is located approximately at the midpoint of the cape that caters to the population of fewer than four thousand. Route 97 runs the perimeter of the town and is the only way in or out of The Port by land. Tourism and the fishing industry are primarily what keep Port Steward afloat, so to say. The town is home to a number of recreation areas including Sandy Dunes Beachside Campground, Dampier’s Pirate Museum, The Port Steward Wildlife Preserve, seven natural ponds and more than twelve parks, along with a small metropolitan area near the bottleneck, which is where Angora is located.

“
We don't have a treatment for the infected,” Mara said with concern.

“
Mara,” James shook his head, without interrupting his gaze at Port Steward. "For being such a brilliant mind, you sure can be daft. I know you don't have a treatment—yet. But I am not going to tell them that, or the patients, for that matter.”

James turned back and removed the flash drive from his laptop that Mara had brought into his office, concealed within a cork, on a key chain.
It contained all of the information that Edward had sent her. Replacing the cap, it once again looked like an ordinary cork that one would think was from a memorable moment of Mara’s past, and handed it back to her.

“
Mara, this is damage control. Our first priority is to get a tight lid on this, so that it doesn't leak, and Angora is not implicated. At this point, we need the core task force to get the patients back here, with as little attention being drawn as possible. Then, we'll take it from there. In the meantime, I suggest you take the remaining serum and begin working on it to create the retro-virus outlined in the email, in case it has the same effects on humans as it did on the test subjects in the video you showed me. If that's the case, at the end of the day, we may have more than just four bodies on our hands.”

Eight core Angora security guards stood in circle formation in the somewhat-full parking structure. All had their phones out and were reviewing the information that Randy had sent them on the way to the garage.

“Alright we have our orders. We need to locate these people now, before they get too sick. We need them all back here, regardless, but I want them back alive,” Randy's voice was just above a whisper, causing not so much as an echo throughout the garage. “We’re going use the radio app in our phones, limited chatter and speak in code.”

Nods and looks were exchanged among the men as Randy began rifling through the paperwork in his hands.

“Boots & Walker, you've got McFarland. Rhino & Junior, you take Swick. Buzz, Doyle take Harper. Shotgun, we'll get Bishop. Be stealth gentlemen, in and out. Remain unseen. Let's mount up.”

Each pair of men headed off to separate
, identical black, Ford Expeditions. Randy and Shotgun slipped into their vehicle and were the first to leave the garage. Upon exiting the structure they passed the garage security station at the exit, Shotgun offering a nod at the young man in the booth. A newbie, just hired a few weeks ago. Shotgun couldn't remember his name, meaning that he was probably working out fine. After departing the garage, the road snaked three quarters of a mile down to the gate.

Angora looked as if it were a modern day castle. The ultramodern lobby is situated on the first floor of the building, providing futuristic kiosks for visitors and patients and an array of art sculptures and furniture that
often times proved perplexing to newcomers. A basement exploratory laboratory is below the first floor, for James’ pet projects, that range from animal parasites to organic food. Angora is a towering structure stands twelve floors high. Its cobalt blue, stucco exterior and mirrored windows can be seen for miles and is a local magnet for brilliant minds in the area. The parking garage stands just as high and has the same stucco appearance as the laboratory. A catwalk on the second floor of the main building marries the parking structure serving as easy access to the garage. A lush green lawn extends out nearly a half mile in front of the building, with perfectly manicured shrubs strategically located before the main entrance. Seven towering shade trees are scattered across the sprawling grass area. A few employees could be spotted under the shade trees and on park benches chatting with each other and using their cell phones in the fading light of the early-evening.

Surrounding the entire property is a twelve-foot high concrete wall exhibiting the same stucco look as the exterior of the building and garage. Following the street within the walls, Shotgun and Randy sped past the lawn area and were approaching the exit. A squared booth situated twenty-five feet from two gigantic gate doors, contains one Angora security guard. The steel doors stand twelve feet high and fifteen feet across each. They can only be opened from a security officer within
the perimeter of Angora, inside the gate control booth.

Shotgun slowed the vehicle to a stop, pulling out his ID badge and handing it to the man in the security booth. The guard examined the badge, and then glanced behind the vehicle. Shotgun looked into his side mirror, seeing headlights of three identical vehicles pulling up behind him.

“Something going on Shotgun? Oh, hey Boss,” the guard in the booth said, craning his neck to see the identity of the passenger as he returned the ID badge.

“
Just a little training exercise, Brody, nothing too exciting,” Shotgun rolled his eyes appearing to be in boredom. Glancing at Randy, he flashed a sly grin.

“
Uh, yeah, have fun with that. I'll keep the gate open for all four of your trucks to get through.”

“Thanks Bro, we'll probably be back before your shift even ends,
” Shotgun said, rolling up the window and driving out the gates. The other vehicles followed, parting ways at the end of the block.