Chapter 24- Short-Sword

Chapter 24

Short-Sword

Villa Cyranno, Venezuela

Jubal Storm leant back against the wall and took out another cigarette.  He looked across at the gathered crowd of civilians.  Their faces were glum, they looked upset and scared.  This made a lot of sense.  They had no idea just how bad things were going to get.

Agent Wharton was talking to Captain Dietz, Lt’s McPherson and Chung were stood to one side.  Sergeant Wooderson kept his weapon up and ready but wasn’t aiming it at anyone.  To Storm, this situation was becoming absurdly complicated.

Of course Jubal had a solution to the problem too, a simple way to sort out the humans from the imposters.  But the team would never go for it.  He had also come to a harsh conclusion about the team that had gone to check on Ostrow.

Specialist Newman, an engineer by trade, came over and stood by Storm.  Storm offered him a cigarette and Newman took it in shaking hands.  Storm leant over and lit it with his own cigarette.

“What’s going on Jube?” asked Newman.

“Don’t know,” replied Storm.

“They’re talking about how to tell who is who.  But there are people missing.  We need more men here,” stammered Newman.

“Maybe, maybe that’d be worse?” offered Storm.

“How so?” asked Newman.

“What if we’re all one of those things?” asked Storm.

“I’m not,” replied Newman.

“Neither am I.  But I aint sure about you and I aint sure about any of the others.  It could be that you and I are the last humans here,” said Storm.  Of course that didn’t really figure.  Storm knew that, logically, if there were more of these imposters than there were people, they’d attack.  No need to hide then.

“A blood test,” said Chung audibly.

“How would that work?” asked McPherson, holding the sides of her head.  She looked tired but she was still focused.  Storm had picked her out as one of the people who wasn’t about to crack.

“Well, the way I see it and this is strictly theoretical,” began Chung.

“Just spit it out Marcus,” snapped McPherson.  Chung gave her a reproachful look and then spoke.

“If we mix uninfected blood with someone’s blood and it is infected, there will be a reaction,” he said.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“Because you saw the way Hunter behaved.  When he caught fire?”

“He broke in half,” said McPherson.  She shivered involuntarily at that.

“Yes he did.  I have a theory that these things aren’t like a normal creature, that’s just tissue.  They are more like a colony of smaller beings.  And when the main body is ‘killed’, the smaller pieces that aren’t ‘dead’ yet try to escape,” he said.

Jubal thought about that, it made his skin craw.  When you kill something, it was supposed to stay down.  But the guy they had encountered in the pig-pen had tried to get up and move, even without a head.

“Where do we get uninfected blood from?” asked McPherson.

“Newman’s medical kit will have some, not much.  The rest is back on the Osprey,” said Chung.

“El tee,” Said Storm.  Chung looked over

“El tee I think that the Osprey is probably compromised by now,” he said simply.

“How so?” asked Chung.

“Cos if Dalton’s one of us, why didn’t he come back?  Why didn’t anyone come back?  Ask em to bring the blood, they’ll never do it,” said Storm.  “Dalton and all the others on the chopper are one of them now, if they weren’t from the start,”

“You’re full of shit,” snapped Newman.

“Prove me wrong Dan,” replied Storm, calmly.

“No!” said Dietz loudly.  The rest turned around and saw Dietz walking away from Wharton.

“Think about it Roman, it’s the only fucking way to be sure!” said Wharton.

“I don’t care, it’s totally unthinkable,” replied Dietz, hotly.

Wharton shook his head.  Storm got to his feet, stretched and took out two new cigarettes.  He lit one and walked over to Wharton.  Chung and McPherson were explaining the plan to Dietz and Sergeant Wooderson.  To Jubal Storm, it sounded logical.  But he wanted to know what Wharton had suggested that got Dietz so bent out of shape.

Storm offered Wharton a cigarette which Wharton took from him and lit it himself.

“Cap didn’t like your idea none,” said Storm.

“No he didn’t.  It’s the only way to totally isolate this place,” said Wharton.

“What is?” asked Storm.

“We know that we’re not infected right now, the team,” said Wharton.

“We do?” asked Storm.

“We know at least some of us are human, that just follows logically.  If we were all these things, then we’d just kill each other and win,” said Wharton.

“That’s what I thought,” said Storm.

“Then there is only one way to be sure, when it comes to the village,” concluded Wharton.

“Which is?” asked Storm.  Wharton took a long drag and sized up Specialist Grade Five Jubal Storm.

“I think you know exactly what it is don’t you,” said Wharton.

“I do actually,” replied Storm

Sat-Com, Somewhere in Virginia

Colonel James Sickles had made a career from his political acumen and his razor sharp intelligence, he was an observer extraordinaire.  He was able to figure out what it was that people wanted; what it was they were really asking from you when you got an assignment.

Here at Sat-Com, he’d been sent by the Secretary of Defence to keep an eye on Major General Tom Petersen.  His official job description was to mind out that the Department of Defence (the shop as they tended to call it) didn’t get its reputation damaged by the crisis and how General Petersen handled it.

That was nonsense, of course.  The situation would be kept as quiet as was humanly possible.  If they had wanted it to be quieter, they’d send another General who would keep it quiet.  What was a Colonel supposed to do?

James Sickles had seen it clearly, his real mandate was to keep an eye on the General himself.  And James was now fairly sure that he had a read on the veteran General.  Of course Petersen didn’t like James, that went without saying.  Petersen was a General from the old guard; a Vietnam veteran who had risen up the ranks and seen the end of the cold war.

When the Berlin wall had come down, James had only been ten years old.  He was a product of the new army, he believed in shock and awe and the violence of action.  He was a political animal too, this was something that Petersen would never ever approve of.

So Sickles would always rub him up the wrong way, that was certain.  James had been isolated from the rest of the staff, bit by bit and gradually managed to slip away alone with Lieutenant Walker.

Now Colonel Sickles had slipped away from the others again.  He was reading a report as he waited at the edge of the containment zone.  A military doctor, Captain Perry, stood by the door too.

“You know Colonel I don’t really approve of you allowing someone out of the containment zone yet,” said the Doctor.  Sickles barely even looked up, the report had him gripped.

“I think Colonel Adams is on his way now,” said Captain Perry.

“Captain, can you do me a favor and take this report back into the main control room,” said Sickles.

“Yes I can.  But I don’t really want to…”
“I’m not asking you, it’s an order.  You follow orders right?” snapped Sickles.

“Yes I do,” replied Perry, glumly.

“Keep the report to yourself, if anyone other than Lieutenant Walker asks you about it, destroy it,”

“What does it say?” asked Perry.

“It’s an engineering report I asked for,” replied Sickles, cryptically.

Perry shook his head and left.  Sickles watched him leave.  He saw Colonel Adams moving through the containment zone, air-tight containment seals all around him.  He had been through a de-con shower and he had come out clean.

Colonel Adams, a towel in his hands, came out to see James Sickles.

“You got a minute to talk Colonel?” asked Sickles.

“Yes I do,” replied Adams.

“Follow me a minute please, “said Sickles.  The two of them walked around a corner to a supply room.  There were boxes and crates and most notably, no one around.

Adams paused by the door for a moment.  Sickles looked around at him.

“You don’t need to panic Colonel, I’m here on the authority of the Secretary of Defence,” he said plainly.

“I see,” replied Adams.

“You don’t.  We’ve got a major situation here,” stated Sickles.  “There is a rogue General in Virginia, giving orders from a defunct mission,”

“What?” replied Adams, shocked.

“There was a mission back in Afghanistan called Briar.  It was a covert Op’s base.  It was the brain child of a couple of heavyweights in the shop.  It got canned when the new President got sworn in.  Well Briar is back from the dead and giving orders all over again,”

“And it’s in Virginia?” asked Adams.

“Don’t be an idiot Colonel, we’re Briar!  Sat-Com is Briar,” he said bluntly.

Adams stood there for a moment saying nothing.  Sickles paced back and forward.  The towel fell to the floor and Sickles, who noticed everything, saw that there was blood in the towel.

Sickles stopped pacing and looked at Adams.  Colonel Adams reached forward with incredible speed and ferocity.  Both hands clamped around James Sickles head and lifted him into the air.  Sickles screamed and reached for his sidearm.

He collided with the ceiling and fell to the Earth, dazed and unaware.  Colonel Chris Adams, or someone that looked a lot like him, dropped to its knees next to Colonel James Sickles.  The ‘Adams Thing’ twisted its own head to one side slightly and there was a terrible cracking sound, like old rotten ice breaking.  Teeth, huge dagger like teeth sprouted from a new, long mouth that had appeared in the top its head.

A long dark red tongue wrapped around Sickles and pulled him with dizzying speed into its new, bloody maw.  There were two or three sharp bites and Sickles stopped struggling.  Adams stood up again, covered in blood.  His face began to knit back together and he reached down with one hand for the ruined body in front of him.  He pushed Colonel Sickles with a hand and there was a low, dazed moan from him.

The ‘Adams’ thing was pleased, he was still alive.