HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (56 page)

Erin watched Ben Bryant place the wreath of flowers under the photo of his wife.

He stood there, his lips moving, saying whatever it was that people say when the person they love most is torn from their life.

Erin had spoken to everyone except Ben. She’d talked with Neve and Justin. She’d spoken to all the Marines.

The only person left was Ben.

Of them all, Ben had lost the most.

Karen had been Erin’s best friend. If anyone could understand what Ben was going through, it was Erin.

Ben turned and came away from the memorial, his head bowed, walking slowly. He was reading the engraving on the back of a small pocket compass.

When Erin touched his arm, he took a few moments to look up.

‘Erin,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d left.’

‘I was waiting for you.’

‘Why? What is it?’

‘My family asked if you would have lunch with us. My aunt will be there. She lost her son. My cousin. And her daughter-in-law. It would mean a lot to them if you came.’

Ben shook his head, obviously about to make an excuse.

Erin touched his arm. ‘I loved her too, Ben. You don’t have to grieve alone. All these people are here today so they don’t have to grieve alone.’

Ben looked over his shoulder at the memorial.

‘Please come,’ Erin persisted. ‘It might not help you, but it will help me.’

Ben nodded. ‘You’re a good person, Erin. Karen was lucky to have a friend like you. I really mean that.’

‘I know you do,’ said Erin, taking Bryant by the arm and leading him toward the waiting cars. ‘I feel the same way.’

Dressed in their formal uniforms, Craigson and Myers stood at the fountain where they’d spoken to Justin.

The two Marines had talked about Justin quite a lot over the last two weeks, so Craigson was glad to see him.

He was gladder now to know the boy would be all right. Justin had seen and survived some terrible things. They would be keeping in contact with their new friend.

‘It’s almost over,’ said Myers, looking across the park toward the memorial.

Cars were driving away and chairs were being folded up.

Myers fished a coin from his pocket and flicked it into the fountain.

‘Have you heard anything?’ he asked.

‘Not a thing,’ replied Craigson. ‘Nothing moves fast at the top. You know that. They have more important things to worry about than us.’

After several rounds of debriefing, neither Marine had been reassigned or given any indication of what they were supposed to do next.

‘I hate waiting,’ said Myers. ‘We did a good job, didn’t we?’

Craigson glanced toward the memorial wall.

‘There were only five of us,’ said Myers. ‘We couldn’t save everyone. We didn’t even have real weapons. We saved lives. Look at all the people who
aren’t
on that wall. If the brass can’t see that, then—’

‘Here he comes,’ cut in Craigson, interrupting Myers.

Both Marines snapped to attention as Captain Coleman approached.

‘At ease,’ said Coleman. ‘The brass is gone.’

Coleman studied both Marines from head to toe. ‘Your provisional deployment with my unit is over. You’ll need these. Read them now.’

He handed each men a letter.

Craigson quickly read the letter. He didn’t quite understand all the details and provisions.

‘What does this mean, Captain?’

‘It means you are both now permanently attached to my critical response team.’

Craigson and Myers looked at each other, and then back down to the letters.

‘Well?’ asked Coleman. ‘Is this what you want or not?’

‘This is the only thing I want, sir,’ replied Craigson.

Myers nodded.

Coleman extended his hand.

‘Then welcome to FAST.’

Six thousand miles away, in the basement of a long-abandoned orphanage on the border of Czechoslovakia and Poland, a man leaned forward in his creaky, canvas chair.

He studied the old television screen.

He’d listened as the President spoke.

He’d sat through the official speeches and the weeping goodbyes from family members.

He’d waited while they read out the names of the dead, all perished on the gigantic American cruise ship.

None of this interested him in the slightest.

He was looking for someone.

He watched the screen, scanning the faces...

...there.

He paused the screen.

There you are.

The camera had finally panned over the U.S. Marines who were on board the ship.

Bora sat back in his chair, satisfied.

Sergeant King’s face filled the screen.

I knew you would be there.

The huge black Marine towered over the men around him. He stared into the camera. He stared right through the camera with an expression of open challenge.

He’s knows I’m watching,
thought Bora.
Good. Then he knows I am coming.

Bora stood and laid his palm on the wall. Several stories up, he felt the vibrations of his team arriving at the rendezvous.

It was all coming together now.

Bora switched off the television, but not before taking one more look at that face.

‘See you soon.’

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