Chapter 11- Flash Point

Book 2

Patient Zero

Chapter 11

Flash Point

Villa Cyranno, Venezuela

Hannah took point, leading her little two man team across the village when they heard a terrible scream.  Hannah’s blood froze.  Storm tapped her on the shoulder and took cover.  She followed suite.

“I froze” She said, almost to herself.  There was another scream, longer and more drawn out.

“That’s not a human being making that sound,” Said Storm.

“What?” said Hannah, confused.

“You’re not from farm country right?” he smirked.  “Hogs, someone’s killing a hog.”

Hannah breathed a brief sigh of relief.  Later on, she would remember that feeling that there was a simple and rational explanation, she would remember that feeling that things would be ok, that they would make sense.  She would think of that brief moment as “the good old days.”

Storm moved forward to the edge of the next building.  He leaned out to take a look.  He stayed out in the open for a few seconds and then dropped back.

“What?” asked Hannah.  Storm’s face was pale.

“What did you see?” she asked again.

“Follow me,” he breathed.  The two of them moved quickly and quietly around the back of the pig pen.

Hannah could smell the death and excrement from a distance, a terrible metallic smell.  She could hear a soft, mewling sound, it sounded vaguely pig-like but she couldn’t place it.  Her stomach knotted up.  She hefted her P-90 submachine gun and tired to reassure herself.

Storm reached the edge of the pig pen, a small wooden hut with a covered roof.  There was enough space between two of the boards to see inside and to see the man that was stood amongst the pigs.  He was splattered with blood.

He didn’t hold a knife; instead his bare hands were covered in blood and gore.  With his back to Hannah, she couldn’t see his expression or his face but there was something strange and wild about his hair, about his whole aspect.

Hannah watched as storm lined up his gun on the man’s back, a red spot appearing.  Storm indicated that Hannah should move around to flank the man.  Hannah nodded, her mouth was dry and she felt her hands shaking.

As she came up on his left hand side, she caught a glimpse of his face.  Her finger tensed on the trigger.

Satcom, Somewhere in Virginia

A young officer walked into the main control room.  There was a steady buzz of activity in the room, non-coms rushing around with clipboards and dozens of radio communications going on at once.

A lieutenant was talking rapidly on a radio to someone.  The young officer, sandy brown hair and sharp blue eyes, stood next to her.  The lieutenant, Walker, was speaking quickly.

“Okay we need Giant-killer online.  I’ve got confirmation from command so you need to get that track lit up for us right now.  Don’t make me get the general back on the line.”

The young officer, a full bird colonel, stood next to her and listened for a second longer.

“No, no that wont do.  You get your CO on the line.  We’ve got a mission here with a critical time frame and you’re going to give us what we need.  Do you want to speak to the fucking general?”

The colonel reached over and took the radio out of her hand.

“What the hell?” she began and caught his rank.  “Sorry colonel.”

“This is Colonel Sickles here.  What’s your name?” he asked down the radio.

“Now, you’re going to get Giant-Killer lit up as you were instructed.  Otherwise the next assignment you get will be teaching basket-ball to inner city youths in Baghdad.  You with me son?  I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

Lieutenant Walker looked at the young Colonel but he was already walking away.  He stood near the top of the room and called for attention, a loud whistle.  People turned around.

“People, let’s all take a breath here.  We’ve got an important job to do and a bit of hustle is what we need.  But we are members of a general staff here.  Think first, work it out and stop babbling.  I don’t want to catch anyone else around here negotiating.  We’ve got clearance for an operation.  Let’s get our heads straight and then deliver it shall we?  Like professional soldiers.  That’s all.”

Colonel Sickles walked over to the General’s office and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” came the voice.

Sickles stepped inside.  General Petersen was sat behind his desk reading a report.  Sickles stood instinctively to attention.

“Knock that off.  What is it Colonel?”
“Colonel James Sickles reporting for duty.”
“I didn’t ask for you.  What are you doing here?”
“I’m getting your operation centre sorted out General.” Replied Sickles, his tone neutral.

“Oh are you?” asked General Petersen.  “And who sent you?”

“The Secretary.” Said Sickles, trying to keep the confidence in his tone low.

“The Secretary sent you.” Repeated Petersen.  “So you work for me or him?”
“I work for the United States Army.” Replied Sickles.

“Ok then.  Well, for now we’ve got an op to plan out and we’ve got a lot of materials to use for it.  I need you to just observe for a minute and get to speed with what we’re about here.”

“General, I already did that.” Replied Sickles.

“Did you now?” asked Petersen.

Villa Cyranno, Venezuela

There was a burst of light and fire, a man was blown backwards away from the pig pen by a hail of bullets.  Hannah McPherson had never shot anyone before.  The P-90 submachine gun was capable of firing around nine hundred rounds in a minute.  The fifty round magazine had lasted only a couple of seconds of full automatic fire.

Blood had splattered across the back of the fence were the man was now lying.  Hannah stood facing him, her hands locked around the smoking but now empty sub-machine gun.  Incredibly, the man began to slowly, very slowly, get back up.  “No,” Hannah said in a small voice.

The burst of fire had cut a long swathe across his chest.  His body had been riddled with bullets and was bleeding profusely.  But the blood on his hands and face had been there before.  And his face, it was not the face of a human being.  To Hannah, it simply resembled a deep pit of blood and bony shapes.

The long fingers on his hands had previously been hooked into one of the pigs that had been in the pen.  Now he raised them in front of him.  Hannah reached down to her side for another magazine.  She pulled it clear of her belt as he reached his feet.  She could see clean through his body, there were so many holes in him.  It was absurd, like something out of a cartoon.

His face continued to crumble apart and a terrible rending sound came from within his throat.  He took a lurching step forward.  Hannah’s trembling hands found the magazine and slammed it into the P-90.  Then there was a burst of fire to the man-shape’s right and he was hurled bodily aside by another burst of fire.  Storm laid down a field of fire straight at him, stitching a bloody line across his shoulder and neck

He collapsed again, this time lying in the path.  Storm walked around quickly to Hannah.  She pulled the safety on her machine gun and moved towards the thing that had appeared to be a man but was clearly not.  His head, what little of it had remained, had been almost completely cut off by the machine gun fire.

A strange bubbling growl was coming up from the neck and long clawed hands continued to wave ineffectually.  Storm looked down with a mixture of horror and revulsion on his face.

“What the fuck is he?” asked Storm.

Hannah didn’t respond at first, her mind was working.

“What is it?” asked Storm.  He reloaded too.

“He’s going to get up again.  Small-arms don’t seem to keep him down.” She said, her voice coming from somewhere else, perhaps back in America.

“Ok then, “Said Storm.  He reached down and unpinned a grenade.  Elsewhere there was more weapons fire.  “We’re in it now.”