Final Winter

‘That I do,’ she said. ‘They’re not here for their health. They’re here because of what we’ve got in the cargo hold, I’m sure.’

‘What do you think? Chemical? Bio? A dirty bomb?’

Carrie said, ‘Whatever it is, the powers that be certainly don’t want us to land, and they certainly want to keep close eye on us.’

‘Fuck. Those lousy ground-pounding sons of bitches, not telling us a goddamn thing about what we’re carrying—’

Carrie said, ‘Sean.’

He stopped talking.

‘Try to raise those fine boys on the Guard radio channel, find out what their orders are. And then let’s try Dispatch again. Jesus.’

Sean went to work and Carrie briefly regretted her sharpness towards him. But there was work to be done, answers to be sought, and the thought of her daughter Susan, slumbering safely at home while her mommy was just seconds away from being blasted out of the sky… Christ.

She returned to her flying.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Monty had no idea how the phone call would go. In the event, he was stunned at how quickly matters developed.

‘Colonel,’ he said to the Tiger Team Director, ‘this is Montgomery Zane, Tiger Team Seven.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘I’m at the AirBox Operations Center. Have you been advised of what’s going on?’

The colonel’s voice was flat, unemotional. ‘That I have. Nineteen aircraft, airborne and carrying anthrax, and in a situation to release that anthrax unless something can be done in the next few hours.’

‘Sir, it appears that Adrianna Scott was an Iraqi citizen. We’ve been played, and played bad. I’m now the senior officer for Tiger Team Seven.’

‘All right,’ the colonel said. ‘And I have a team working on Adrianna Scott and what she’s done, but right now, that’s only going to be of interest down the road. What matters now are those nineteen aircraft… and Zane?’

‘Sir?’

‘As of now, it’s yours. I’m not in a position to second-guess you. But you’ve got lots of resources at your fingertips. Use them, and use them well, and keep me informed.’

‘That I will, sir.’

~ * ~

He had been dreaming, no doubt about it, and my God, how that dream had slipped into this horrible nightmare. Men were there, men with lights and uniforms and loud voices, and this was one hell of a dream and—

Victor Palmer sat up in bed, chest heaving, looking at his suddenly crowded bedroom. There were three men in there, two of them wearing black uniforms and carrying stubby automatic weapons. The third man, the one with the large flashlight, said, ‘Sir, you’re Doctor Palmer, correct?’

Victor held a hand up to his eyes, to block the light. ‘Yes…yes… who are you? What the hell is going on here?’

The man said, ‘Sir, I’m afraid you’re in our custody, under direction of the National Command Authority. You need to join your Tiger Team members in Memphis, right away. What do you need?’

‘Um… ah, well, my laptop, of course, in my office, and—’

One of the men with automatic rifles quickly left the bedroom, and Victor said, ‘And… uh, what’s going on? Why do they need me so quickly?’

‘Sir,’ the man said, pulling away the bed coverings, ‘all I know is that there is an emergency, and your presence is required, now.’

Victor wiped at his face. ‘I… I need to shower. And get dressed… and—’

The man with the flashlight stepped forward. ‘Sir. There’s no time.’

And so Victor started protesting. But, quickly enough, other men came forward and literally picked him up, and he was taken out of his condo and down the central stairs, and now there was a loud noise coming from outside, and he was trying to say something, ask what in hell was going on, and the men were behind him, one of them carrying his laptop, another carrying a bundle of his clothes, shoving the clothes into a small leather bag.

Outside it was chaos. They propelled Victor along a paved walkway, to the common area of the condominium. The noise beat at his ears. Before him were the tennis courts for the condo units and other men were there as well, cutting and pulling down the chain-link fences, tearing up the netting. Overhead was a helicopter, a military helicopter with a belly-mounted searchlight that illuminated the whole area. Other residents of the condo units were now coming out their own homes, staring up in awe at what was going on around them.

The helicopter began to land and again Victor was picked up. His knees suddenly felt like the tendons and muscles had turned to mush, for he realized that this — all this! — was being done for him!

A mouth close to his right ear. ‘Keep your head down, doctor!’

Dirt and pebbles were being flung into his face as he went forward, hunched over. Men in the helicopter grabbed him and strapped him down, and he looked and saw that his clothes and laptop had joined him. He shouted out questions but the crewmen just tapped the side of their helmets and shook their heads.