Finding Dani (Once a Marine, Always a Marine Book 3) (15 page)

“What does that even mean?”

Damon tugged him along, even though his own legs were a bit shaky. “Shoulder-launched Multipurpose Assault Weapon,” he threw over his shoulder. “Now, shut up and help me find Dani.”The tent supports were leaning in, forming a weird looking sunken teepee-type structure. Damon reached the door and ripped it the rest of the way off its hinges. “Dani,” he yelled inside. The gunfire going on just outside of the camp made hearing anything more difficult. When he heard nothing, he started lifting canvas to let light in.

“Grab something to support this,” he said to Travis. “Dani! Goddamn it, answer me.”

Instead of moving, Travis ducked under Damon’s arms and stood, supporting the heavy canvas over his head. “Get them out.”

He didn’t waste any time. Diving inside, he felt his way until he touched something warm. It was an arm, but it was too small to be Dani’s. He tugged and was able to pull the limp body of the little boy, Frankie, from the folds of the tent.
 

“Dani,” he said again. “Can you hear me?”

“I think everyone can hear you yelling,” Martin’s answer came muffled from somewhere inside.

“Are you all okay?”

“If you mean Danielle, yes, she’s going to be fine. She’s unconscious because she threw herself over Anuma when the place caved in. But her vitals are good. I’m fine too, thanks for worrying.”

“Let me get Frankie out and I’ll be back for you,” Damon said, ignoring the doctor. He had to fight the urge to keep going forward until he found Dani, but he was going to trust Martin that she would be fine. He needed to get the child to safety.

Struggling out of the tight confines of the ruined infirmary, he found several more Marines and Claire. She was wringing her hands and tears streaked down her face. Blood matted one side of her head, but otherwise she looked relatively unharmed.

“What about Dani?” she asked.

“I’m going back in for her.”

“Get her out.”

She was borderline hysterical, breathing rapidly through her mouth. It looked like she might grab him, but resisted the urge. There was something going on in her expression that he couldn’t decipher, and she was sweating profusely. The soldiers were busy rigging the canvas to pull it up and out, so they could get everyone else outside. The gunfire was now only sporadic. He hoped Gunner was safe, but couldn’t worry about it now.

He was needed here.

And he needed to see her—with his own eyes—to make sure she was fine. Until he held that woman in his arms, he wouldn’t stop. He handed Travis his son, grabbed a flashlight from one of the men, and turned to plunge inside again. The canvas was heavy and cumbersome to move through, but with the soldiers outside working to prop up and pull poles back into place, it was becoming easier to see.

“It’s about time, Shadow,” she said, voice raspy.

Damon’s knees almost gave way when he saw her, hair sticking up in all directions and dirt dusting her bright head. He looked her up and down, seeing no injuries. He relaxed slightly, but he wouldn’t be happy until she was out of this mess and back in his arms.

“Sorry, Red. Won’t happen again.”

Martin looked no worse for the collapse, but Anuma was no longer awake, and his breathing was even worse than before. Dani saw his concern and answered the unspoken question. “The roof landed on us and I couldn’t stop it from hitting him. We’ve got to get an X-ray to make sure a rib hasn’t punctured his lungs.”

Damon could see that the side of the tent that had been hit was blackened and smoldering, now that it was lifted slightly. The smoke and burned canvas smell was acrid and stung his eyes. “Help me with this pole, Martin.”

The doctor nodded and they both grasped the pole that was lying over on its side, but lifted from whatever the soldiers outside were doing. If he and Martin could lift it up to prop some of the canvas aside, they’d have a clear path to get out and get a stretcher or gurney inside for Anuma. From the looks of him, moving him without help might do more harm than getting him out right away.

“I’ll get someone to bring a stretcher,” Dani said, as she skirted around the cot and headed toward the light she could see.

When Dani was out of sight, Damon set his flashlight aside to illuminate the space, and then worked with Martin to hold the one intact support beam up. There was nothing to prop it up with, so they were just going to have to hold it until the soldiers outside could get in and get everyone else out. He didn’t have much hope for the other side of the room. That was where it looked like a bomb had exploded, and the two sick men there were likely dead.

“Did you know about Travis’s little secret?” Damon asked.

“I had no idea, but that is the kind of thing that will ruin his reputation and get him fired from the CDC.”

“So, what’s your little secret, Doc?”

Damon was up close, watching Martin’s expressions as well as he could in the semi-dark. The light from the small opening he’d come through was getting brighter and he could hear the conversations going on outside as men worked on the supports to get that stretcher inside.

“What are you talking about?” he said, sounding bored. But he looked away and blinked several times. It was as good as any poker tell.

“I mean those deposits into that numbered account that have been getting bigger. And the fact that someone is mutating the Ebola virus. Someone from your team, Doc.”

“You must have some good people looking into my affairs to find that.”

He didn’t blink this time or look away. He didn’t even sputter about the numbered account they’d found that was damned hard to find because it wasn’t in his name. For the current situation, that looked suspicious as hell. And Damon had been ready for outrage and denial. He’d positioned his body in a way that he could grab his gun or knife if he needed to, but he didn’t think Martin was involved. Oh, he was hiding something, but it wasn’t the virus.

And his next words confirmed Damon’s suspicions.

“I thought something was going on in that village, but Dr. Bordeaux was keeping all the samples to herself, which was odd.” He paused for a moment, clearly thinking. “Why didn’t I catch this sooner?”

“Where is the money coming from, Martin? Are you getting paid to mutate this virus?”

The man actually smiled. Damon thought it was the first time he’d actually seen teeth. His normal expression was a scowl or a smirk.

“I can assure you that I’d never, ever, infect anyone with a deadly virus on purpose. I do take my Hippocratic Oath seriously. Nor do I have the finesse to mutate one.”

“You strike me as the kind of man who thinks he can do anything, just to prove he can.” Damon prodded him, hoping to see some sign of guilt. But it just wasn’t there. He looked genuinely concerned and he wasn’t running away from the conversation.

Martin shrugged. “Contrary to popular opinion, I do know my limitations. I may not like to admit them, but I do know them.”

“Then, explain the money. It makes you look guilty of something. Why else hide it?”

The support moved suddenly, and both men scrambled to keep it steady. Damon could hear an engine outside, so they must have a truck or rhino outside moving debris. Someone yelled inside that they almost had it.

“Just get the fucking stretcher in here,” Damon yelled back. “We don’t have all day.” Then he looked back at the doctor. “The money?”

“It’s a secret because it will irreparably damage my reputation.”

“Everyone thinks you’re a narcissistic prick. How much worse can it be?”

“Hell,” he said. “Might as well tell someone, since this mutated Ebola virus will likely kill us all anyway as fast as its spreading.” He let out a long sigh and then just shook his head. “I’ve been in contact with a journalist, who has been paying me for dirt on the CDC, as well as some other agencies that I’ve been involved with.”

Damon thought he said it like he just confessed to having an unchecked case of genital warts. “So?”

“So—With Ebola being the new big scary thing for the uninformed public, the large news stations are paying for information. The kind that hurts the government…”

Of all the things he could have said, that one actually surprised Damon. They’d obviously strung up a brighter light outside because the room was a little brighter as the canvas slowly began rising. He and Martin let go of the support as it too rose, attached to the roof as it was, and Damon flexed his shoulders, keeping an eye on the doctor.

“No shit? You’re a whistle blower?”

Martin puffed up a little. “I believe that the public has the right to know how very little our government is actually investing in their welfare. Even more, I’ve been contracted to write an exposé about the FDA and how they decide to dole out cures for common illnesses or not, depending on how much money could be made in their deals with the big pharmaceutical companies. Big Pharma don’t want cures; they want to sell drugs. New drugs that are too expensive, but line their execs’ pockets, while people suffer and die…”

“And here I thought Dani was the only crusader. Who’s your contact?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Damon shook his head. “Doc, I’ll tell everyone I know in the government about your deal and let you deal with the fallout, unless you come clean and let me check out your story.”

“Krystal Cummings is her name. And she’s a bit more than just a contact.”

“So, you’re screwing the journalist that’s planning on screwing the government? Is that about the size of it, Doc?”

“Yes. As crass as you put it, that is what’s going on, and if it all comes out before we’re ready, then
I’m
screwed. My reputation will be shot, I’ll be fired, and with the Patriot Act in place, probably taken someplace horrible and interrogated.”

Damon shook his head. “Don’t get all melodramatic.”

Several soldiers ducked under the remaining canvas that was still hanging low. “You two okay?”

Damon pointed at the cot where Anuma was still unconscious and wheezing badly. “He needs medical attention now.”

The Marine nodded and turned to shout out orders. Martin turned the topic and Damon let him. “Travis is a doctor in the basic sense, but he does most of our contact tracing, almost exclusively. And, clearly, he and Anuma have been in collusion about this love child thing.”

Damon nodded as the stretcher finally made it inside. But Dani wasn’t with it. It only worried him for a moment as Martin talked through the problem, now that he knew about it. And Damon was convinced that he’d been in the dark about it. His story about the journalist made a lot of sense, and having his name in the headlines would appeal to his ego. His eyes were steady and grim as he considered the implications of the current infection.

“You clearly thought I was a suspect, which means that Dani has something definitive in the way of proof. And she would never do something like this, so she’s off the suspect list.”

This wasn’t news to Damon, who nodded toward the entrance and started walking after the men who had Anuma on the stretcher. Martin continued, “Hailey is young. She doesn’t have the patience to do test after test. And that’s what it would take to mutate a virus that is already a perfect killer, not to mention she is a freshman member of the team and wouldn’t have access to the necessary supplies.”

“That leaves Claire,” Damon said, grimly.

Martin nodded. “She has the patience and maturity, as well as a background in genetics. But, would she?”

“Where in the hell is Dani? She’s supposed to be right here.”

Damon searched through the small crowd and didn’t see either of the women. Claire had been standing right outside, wringing her hands, the last time he’d seen her. Damn it, he should have seriously considered her earlier instead of focusing on getting the truth out of Martin or Travis. Zach and Jesse had found the money trail, and Damon had thought it might be him. It would explain the large amounts of money coming in on a monthly basis.

Claire had stayed on his periphery, maybe because Dani trusted her and his friends hadn’t been able to find anything discriminating against her. Nothing. No strange bank accounts, no mad scientist lab equipment in her apartment, just nothing.
 

Her apartment was too clean. Jesse had called it sterile. Impersonal to a point, as if someone had decorated it for her and she rarely spent time there. No family photos either, that’s what Zach had said, and he thought it was weird because she came from a large family.

“What would Claire have to gain?”

Martin shrugged. He looked at a loss. “She lives for the work. Why would she put her own life in jeopardy to do this?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Gunner said, coming into the conversation.

Damon no longer heard gunfire, just the sounds of clean-up going on in various areas of the camp. “What happened with the rebels?”

“Our guys kicked their asses, probably all the way back to Sierra Leone by now,” Gunner said. His escort was two steps behind him and muttered “get some” to Gunner’s statement. “But I have more information about what’s going on.”

Damon had asked several of the soldiers if they’d seen Dani or Claire, but in the confusion of getting the big tent propped up, but no one remembered seeing where they went. It didn’t matter; Damon would tear the whole fucking place apart if he needed to. He would find Dani.