Part 5 (1/2)
”I don't know, but I think you're going to tell me,” Grant said.
”As the Millward team was leaving Hunt County, General Langford's plane was bombed only about a mile from where their bus must have been. The military swarmed this place like ants on a picnic chicken leg - but, what they didn't know was that those Millward boys were already halfway through Rockwall County by the time Hunt County was locked down.”
”Taking the biological infection with them-”
Robbins nodded, letting his friend's comment sink in. Confirmation. ”That's right. Through Rockwall County and into Dallas County. Now, right now, Hunt and Rockwall are quarantined. Are you going to quarantine Dallas County, too?” A hint of anger crept into Robbins's voice. ”Those terrorists finally hit us with a doozy of an airborne virus. That's what it has to be. It's the only explanation for what's happening.”
”It wasn't the terrorists,” Grant said.
”Come again?”
”Naturally, you can't repeat a G.o.dd.a.m.n word of what I'm about to say to you.”
”Naturally.”
”I'm only telling you so maybe it can help you...help the people you're treating.”
”Okay. So it wasn't terrorists.”
Grant cleared his throat. ”It was us. Sort of.”
”Oh, Jesus.”
”I was here, up at H-Systems, waiting to receive a sample of virus Toxin RE68. The s.h.i.+t was aboard Langford's plane. Military scientists have been working on a cla.s.sified experimental program to develop virally encoded toxins to be used as weapons of ma.s.s destruction. I was scheduled to deliver RE68 to Fort Hood.”
Robbins sat his coffee mug on the table, a look of shock registering on his face.
”The terrorists didn't have any idea that Toxin RE68 was on Langford's plane. They just wanted to kill Langford. Unfortunately, when the plane was. .h.i.t, the virus went straight into the air. The terrorists got more bang for their buck than they could ever imagine.”
”s.h.i.+t.”
”We've learned that a terrorist cell infiltrated the U.S. via Mexico and shot down Langford's plane with weapons they acquired here in Texas.” Grant tapped on the side of the coffee mug with his thumbnail.
”Thank you, border patrol.”
”Well, to be fair, border patrol is doing all they can with what they've got, which isn't enough. But yeah, Homeland Security is catching all kinds of s.h.i.+t.” Grant turned the mug around in his hands absently.
”Did you know about the football team?”
”Naw. We knew the virus had to have been transported via a group of infected people to get out that quickly though. You found the missing link.” Grant sighed.
”The illness mimics the flu at first. Then, after a high fever, most of the infected fall into a coma. The duration of the coma state is different for everyone, but when they wake up, they're frothing at the mouth, mostly incoherent, delirious. Speech continues but at a diminished level. A few people retain the ability to talk, but pathogens overcome the body's defenses as the disease worsens and the body begins to decay, apparently from the toxin secretion it's almost like the person is dead. Or has been dead for quite awhile. And there's the hunger I mentioned.”
”I know,” Grant said.
”You've tested this on people, haven't you?” Robbins got up to refill his mug.
”Yeah. Army volunteers. We jokingly refer to them as our Zombie Squad.”
”Funny.” Robbins held up the coffee pot.
Grant held his cup forward. ”Thanks.”
”Now what?”
”I don't know.”
Robbins looked incredulous. ”What do you mean, you don't know? There's a toxin-antidote, isn't there?”
Grant cleared his throat again. ”No. Not yet. That's what I was taking the sample to Fort Hood for. They were going to develop the antidote there.”
”They can't develop an antidote without the toxin sample?”
”No. We not only lost the RE68 canisters, we also lost blood samples from our test subjects in the plane explosion. On top of that, we haven't been able to make contact with anyone at the base for over six hours.” Grant leaned back in his chair. He suddenly looked as tired as Robins felt.
”It's spread.”
”Looks like it,” Grant said. ”Dallas County is heavily infected. Tarrant County is infected. And in chaos, I might add.” Grant reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a USB drive. He placed it on the table.
”What's that?”
”The information used to develop the virus toxin. All of the research, development, and experimental data we have in digital format, including the viral genome model. I'm giving it to you.”
Robbins took the drive. ”You're giving it to me?”
”It's the only one. The scientist that developed RE68 was on board Langford's plane too. He had one flash drive and I had the other. Mine's the back-up.”
Robbins looked at the sliver of black and silver plastic in his hand. ”And, just what do you think I'm going to do with it?”
”You've got to save the world, Matty.”
”You're f.u.c.king hilarious.”
Grant's face was stoic. ”You can do it. If it weren't for the accident all those years ago, it might very well have been you developing this toxin, and the antidote to counter it.”
”Accident? Is that what it's referred to as now?” Robbins laughed bitterly. Carrying your dead buddy's body for five days on your back because you can't risk detection by the enemy on an operation that wasn't officially happening because some jacka.s.s in DC decided to play nice with sc.u.mbags...carrying your dead buddy's body for five days on your back in freezing f.u.c.king weather because the ground was too G.o.dd.a.m.n frozen to bury a body, a body so broken that he felt like a skin-suit full of Lincoln Logs because some cherry MF packed the chutes incorrectly- ”We know you didn't mean to shoot anybody, Matty. You just cracked, that's all.”
”Well, thank G.o.d all of that is top secret, huh? No one would hire a doctor known for murderous rampages, now would they?”
”That was a long time ago, and it never happened.”
Robbins rubbed his face with his palms as Grant s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in his chair.
”I'm sorry, Matty.”
Robbins waved the comment away. ”It's okay. I haven't slept much, nerves are shot.”