Pandora's Succession (7 page)

“I know there was a goddamned leak because Stechina confirmed it,” said Fox, losing control of his tone of voice.

“Really? What were her exact words?”

Fox thought back to what she said.
Somehow they knew that you were coming.

“Well?” asked Downing. “What were her exact words?”

Fox looked away and sighed. “She mentioned that Ares has already infiltrated other foreign intelligence agencies.”
He’s not going to buy that.

“
Foreign
intelligence agencies? Yet she’d contacted you specifically. If she knew for sure that there’s a double agent within the CIA, why didn’t she warn you then?”

Fox shook his head.
I knew he wouldn’t buy it.
“I don’t know.”

Downing slammed the table with his hand. “This is pathetic. You’ve gotten yourself so wrapped up in your personal vendetta against Ares, after what they did to your fiancée, you can’t even concentrate. I don’t know why I thought that you’d be fit enough for this assignment. I’m going to recommend a full psychiatric evaluation be done on you.”

Maybe Stechina got it wrong and there is no mole. Maybe I’m just fishing for any damn excuse after all.
“That won’t be necessary.”

“And why’s that?”

Fox reached into his pocket. Just as his fingers touched the envelope there was a knock at the door, followed by Walsh bursting through, breathing heavily and covered in sweat.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this, sir. But we’ve just gotten word that something’s happened at the CDC facility. And I’m afraid it’s not good.”

Chapter 6

CDC Facility, northwest of Entebbe International Airport, 30 minutes earlier

Hiller’s stomach growled as the UH-60 Black Hawk bobbed through some turbulence. He hadn’t eaten a full meal since he left the Congo-Sudan border. Now all he thought of was some fall-off-the-bone ribs, some potato salad, maybe some Cajun-style chicken, and a cold beer straight from the keg. While this imaginary meal kept his mind wandering, the pilot spoke to him. Hiller didn’t even pay attention and he straitened his headset.

“You mind running that question by me again?” said Hiller.

“I asked you if this is the first time you’ve been to the CDC compound?” asked the pilot.

“Yeah,” Hiller answered.

“Then I’ll update you on a few things. When I set us down, you just walk up to the gate where the guard will let you in. Dr. Cole will meet you outside the domed tent so you won’t have to go inside. You just hand him the package and come back. Any questions?”

Hiller smiled. “Will I be chased by rhinos?” The other SEALs with him laughed.

“You’re funny, but no. All wildlife has been temporarily displaced in accordance to agreements between the Ugandan and American governments. They even had to spray the ground with a very powerful insecticide to kill any insects on the surface and the ones in the ground. They couldn’t do much about the flies though.”

Hiller looked at the metal briefcase. “Damn, this weapon must be some real contagious shit.”

“I don’t know any more about it than you do, sir,” the pilot answered. “Once whatever in the package is neutralized, and hopefully soon, the CDC will have to haul ass out of here before the animal rights and the other environmentalist groups start poking around.”

The Black Hawk swooped down from the night sky outside the fenced area. Hiller got out carrying the briefcase and saw the domed tent. The area wasn’t as big as he expected, maybe slightly smaller than a soccer field. It was was bordered by a twelve-foot high, barbwire fence. A twenty-foot wooden tower to his left, inside the fenced area, had two guards posted, accompanied by ten others on the ground. The six flood lights—swarmed by hundreds of insects—kept the grounds bright.

One of the guards opened the entrance just as a white coat emerged from the dome’s double-doorway access. Hiller met the white coat halfway.

“Dr. Cole?” he asked loudly, above the noise from the propellers.

Cole nodded. “Warrant Officer Hiller?”

Hiller handed Cole the metal briefcase and the key. “She’s all yours.”

“Excellent. We’ll take it from here.”

The SEAL ran back to the helicopter, and it lifted off seconds later.

***

When Cole reached the doorway and pulled it open, the cool air greeted him. He walked towards the isolation chamber that was at the center of the dome where two of his colleagues were. It was twenty feet in length and width but only nine feet high.

“All right guys, we got the package. Let’s get started,” Cole said. It was only then that it dawned on him that they were not dressed in their HAZMAT gear. “Why aren’t you two dressed?”

“It won’t be necessary,” the one nearest to him answered, as he rushed toward Cole while he opened his lab coat to grab the hidden D-W73 Cold War era Russian Air Force Officer’s Dagger, and plunged it into Cole’s stomach. With his free hand, he covered Cole’s mouth to muzzle him. He turned the blade and pulled upwards, maximizing damage to his internal organs, before he released him and let him drop to the ground.

***

The assailant picked up the briefcase and handed it to his partner who carried it over to a table in front of the isolation chamber, unlocked it with the key, and opened it. The assailant went to another table with a communications port and a telephone which linked him directly to Entebbe Base. He picked up the phone and there was a ringing on the other end.

“Entebbe Base,” came the reply.

“We’re under attack...send help...quick. They’re Russian—” He screamed loudly and hung up. The assailant then turned to his partner. “Was I convincing enough?”

His partner stood beside the open briefcase. “You couldn’t have been more perfect.” He took the fluorescent-green vial and let it drop gently on the ground without breaking. He then hit the alarm button. The siren was heard for miles.

It was not too long after, that ten of the guards burst through the doorway with their assault rifles in position. They fanned out to cover the inside of the dome.

“What’s the emergency?” yelled the leader to the two scientists, and then he saw Cole’s body with the dagger protruding from his stomach. His assault rifle shot up immediately. “Both of you, hands in the air. Do it, now!”

This brought the other guards running. Within seconds, they had encircled the two scientists.

“I repeat,” yelled the leader. “Put your hands up, or we will be forced to shoot you.”

The two white-coats didn’t obey him, but instead looked at each other and smiled. “For The Promise?”

“For The Promise.” The partner already had the vial under the heel of his shoe. As he slowly raised his hands along with the assailant, he breathed his last breath and crushed the vial. It wasn’t long before what felt was millions of microscopic teeth tearing away at the flesh, starting with his foot and then moving to the rest of his body. His body convulsed erratically as he dropped to the ground, as his vision was clouded by a fluorescent green dust. He faintly heard the screams from the guards before his eyes burst and oozed out of their sockets along as the metallic taste of blood filled his throat. The pain caused him to scream a voiceless scream as he felt the inside of his body being torn apart.

***

The SEALs were no more than three miles away when they were notified of an attack at the CDC compound. A few minutes later, the base was below them, as they made their descent to give air support, only to see the soldiers hightailing out of the dome.

The pilot opened the side door from up front, while Hiller and two other SEALs covered the doorway, taking aim with their assault rifles. The multiple screams preceded the green-colored smoke that exploded from the dome’s entrance, making its way to the Black Hawk.

Hiller jumped back and the other two followed his example. “Shit! Pull up, pull up!”

They were not able to rise fast enough before the plume enveloped the helicopter. Even with the propellers at maximum, it couldn’t slow down Pandora’s momentum as the SEALs all suffered the same fate as the men below. Nothing was left of their bodies by the time the Black Hawk crashed and burst into flames.

Chapter 7

CDC compound, Northwest of Entebbe, 9:50 PM

Fox stared at the charred remains of the helicopter as he stood a dozen feet away. Warrant Officer Jack Hiller and he went back a few years, to the time when he was recruited into the CIA.
Shit
. Only God knew how many more he would lose in his quest to stop Ares. He squeezed Hiller’s dog tag in his left hand and felt the edges dig into his palm. Hiller was the closest friend he had—pals both on and off the job. In his other hand he had the envelope he nearly gave to Downing.
Fuck it.
And with that thought he tore up the envelope and threw the pieces into the wreckage.

“Hey, buddy,” said Walsh as he approached. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to apologize.” Fox turned away from the wreckage. But he was far from being all right. They walked towards the dome. “Any leads yet?”

“The General’s all over it. All of the airports are on high alert and there are checkpoints on every highway leading from here, but I doubt that at this point we’ll ever catch who did this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Hopefully they died along with the rest of them.” Fox couldn’t help thinking about what his superior had told him earlier about his emotions interfering with his work.
Why didn’t I kill the guard that killed Sveta while I had the chance? The names and faces of every Ares operative would be known.

When they were both inside the dome, they saw Dr. Marx, in an overcoat, talking with two of the men from Entebbe Base. Their colleagues were all over the compound searching for more casualties and evidence.

As they got closer to her she turned to face them. She extended a glove-covered hand to both of them and greeted them. “I appreciate you coming so quickly.”

Walsh was the first to extend his hand to hers. “We couldn’t come any earlier, for obvious reasons.”

Marx then shook Fox’s hand. “I know. I and a few others came here first to inspect the area in HAZMAT gear. I was airborne when the SOS was sent, and I was forced to turn back. We used lab mice as a way of ensuring safety for you to come. It took close to three hours before all visible signs of Pandora dissipated. Come with me, you’ll want to see this.” She led them to the isolation chamber. After they passed through the decontamination airlock the crisp frost air hit them. “Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here long before we all freeze.”

Along one side of the floor sat four trays holding black anti-contamination bags with the yellow bio-hazard symbol on each of them. Each of the bags was about the size of a regular duffle bag. “The temperature’s being regulated at minus three degrees Celsius to help keep what’s left of these bodies in one piece.”

Walsh squinted as he looked at Marx. “In one piece?”

Marx nodded. “Precisely.”

Fox listened to her as he looked down at one of the trays. Walsh did the same with another tray. As Fox looked at the bags, he questioned their small size, seeing that they looked too small to contain an average-sized man that would have fit on the trays that they were on.

“Aside from the inorganic components of their skeletons and Pandora’s slimy by-products, all that was left of them were their clothes, and a few other personal items.”

“Jesus!” Walsh jumped back from one of the bags he had unzipped. The sight of the mess in front of him was enough to throw anyone back. Walsh hopped between the trays and around both Marx and Fox as he ran for the door, his right hand over his mouth.

If this was going to be one of many embarrassing moments with Walsh, Fox was ready to ditch him the first chance he got. He looked back at Marx who was looking down at the body bag. The woman wasn’t showing any kind of emotion.

“I should’ve warned him about that. I guess I was wrong to assume that anything with a visibly large bio-hazard symbol would be enough to keep anyone away,” said Marx with deliberate sarcasm.

“As I said, nothing much that would identify the victims was left.” Marx knelt down in front of the same tray from which Walsh had run, put on a pair of latex gloves from her coat pocket, and stretched them over her fingers. She then pinched and lifted a section of the cover before she continued to unzip it halfway.

It wasn’t what he saw that almost made him react like Walsh—he’d already witnessed unspeakable acts against human beings— but the more Marx unzipped the bag, the more he pursed his lips and squinted.
Dear God
was all that came to Fox’s mind. The dark and thick, slimy mass had sparse amounts of hair and bone. It clung to the inside of the bag and bubbled as more air was exposed to it.
No wonder the bags were that size. It was most likely pumped through a hose.

“Zip it up!” Fox turned away.

Marx raised an eyebrow, shrugged her shoulders, and zipped it back up. She stood up, took off the latex gloves, and dropped them on the cover.