Outbreak: Long Road Back (5 page)

Rodriguez smiled a little bit and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks.” She squeezed his upper arm and took her hand back. Just then Frays burst into the room. The three of them looked at each other for a moment, the woman’s eyes shifting from Lacey to Rodriguez and back again. Frays looked as if she was not sure if she was interrupting something or not.

“Um…Frannie…” Frays said awkwardly as she took a couple steps farther into the room. “Carl’s gonna be okay. Somebody kicked the crap outta him pretty good but he’s gonna be okay.” She smiled at the relieved look on Rodriguez’s face and she walked over, put a hand on her shoulder. “He wants to see you.”

Frays sank into the empty chair after Rodriguez had left. She glanced at the radio then picked up the binder on the desk and started reading. Lacey opened his mouth to say something a couple times but could not think of anything to say. He could tell from the way the woman was sitting and the way she kept running a hand over her son she was obviously upset. He longed to be able to say or do something that would make her feel better.

The door opened and Lacey leapt to his feet. “Officer on deck!” he shouted and snapped to attention. He bit down hard on laughter when Frays followed suit spilling the binder onto the ground with a loud slap.

Major Tennyson stood in the doorway, the middle aged man wearing an amused expression on his usually stony face. “At ease, son.” he said as he took a step inside the room and closed the door behind him. “Airman Frays, I want to speak to you for a minute.”

Frays glanced at Lacey as she put the binder back. The man felt a strange sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the slightly worried look in the woman’s eyes. “Yes, sir.” she said as she checked to make sure she had her patrol cap in her cargo pocket. Frays could not help but snatch surreptitious glimpses of the area beyond as she followed Major Zachariah Tennyson back into the lobby and down the hall. She had worked in the radio room a couple times but had never been beyond that before. It was kind of busy and cramped with people going here and there like some kind of beehive or something…if bees wore uniforms.

“I heard about your brother, Airman.” the compact, muscular Marine said over his shoulder as the two of them walked quickly down the hall. The two of them dodged an Asian man dressed as a Blue Diamond contractor. Tennyson glared at the man for a second as if he were trying to start the man’s head on fire with his mind. “Hope he gets well soon.”

“Thank you, sir.” Frays said, rolling her eyes at the mercenary as she continued following the major. Almost plowing into a pregnant woman was one thing but a friggin’ senior officer? Some people had no respect at all. “I…I guess he was thinking of enlisting.”

Major Tennyson let her into a large room at the end of the hall. It looked like it had been one of the hotel’s higher end rooms once upon a time: there was a large bed in the middle of the room along with a Jacuzzi filled with water. Frays glanced inside the open door that looked like it led to the latrine with its private toilet, sink and combination bathtub and shower. The latrine looked like it was about the size of her cubicle at the Resettlement Center. There was a large flat screen television mounted to the wall and a desk in the corner that was piled high with papers and binders.

The man sat down at the desk in the corner and motioned for her to take a seat on the corner of the bed. “Actually, that’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Chapter Two

3 July 2011 1912 hours NorthCom Forward Operating Base Freedom Sanford, Maine

Lieutenant Beth Haskins stood with her arms crossed over her stomach and frowned slightly. Eight big green, red or blue connexes had floated down on giant parachutes guided down to earth via GPS transceivers mounted on top of the metal shipping containers allowing the airdrop to land within a few dozen feet of the other box that one of the flyboys set up on the Helipad.

The woman walked over to the nearest container and leaned against the open doors. Three or four of the Blue Diamond guys carried boxes out of the connex and stacked them outside for transport to their area on the other side of compound. One of them, a short guy that looked like he could dead lift a Buick, glanced at the officer as he passed by. “’Scuse me, Ma’am.” the mercenary muttered as he maneuvered around Haskins.

The guy was close enough that she could get a good look at the man’s eyes. They were all red and she caught wind of a peculiar odor on the man’s clothes. “Hey, come over here for a minute.” Haskins ordered as she waved the man over to the other side of the metal container. “Sir, you wouldn’t happen to have any illegal vegetation on your person, would you?”

The man gave her a big cheesy grin and chewed loudly on a piece of bubble gum. “Why?” the man asked and glanced back towards his fellows “Lookin’ to score?”

Haskins sighed heavily and marched back around the connex towards the other mercenaries. “GENTLEMEN!” she announced making everyone stop what they were doing and look at her. “Stop what you’re doing. This is a snap health and welfare inspection. Open those boxes, please.” 

The three other mercenaries looked at the naval officer as if she had suddenly gone stark raving mad. The senior of the four men, Jason Maddox, set down his burden and glanced over his shoulder at her. “No, don’t think so.” He turned around and did his best to not smirk. One of the advantages of not being on Uncle Sam’s payroll directly anymore was getting to tell prissy little shits like this bitch where to get off. “This is company property.”

“Open those boxes or all of you can spend the next couple of weeks in the brig.” The man was well over six feet so he towered over the lieutenant but she still got within inches of the man and glared up at him. “As chief medical officer I can perform inspections whenever I deem it necessary. Now open the boxes.”

Maddox glared back at the woman then dipped a hand into a pouch on his plate carrier. The long blade of a knife flicked out with a metallic snick and the big man grinned when the doctor jumped a little bit. He shrugged and cut open the tape around the box at his feet.

It took Lieutenant Haskins and a couple other people a few minutes to go through the crates and cartons the Blue Diamond men were trying to get out of the connex. There seemed to be little in the way of contraband: a couple cases of beer, some pint bottles of whiskey… Something struck Haskins as a little off about a video monitor that was inside one of the containers.

“Hold on there, Mister Brooks.” Haskins said quietly as one of the civilians was about to put the electronic equipment back in its box. She crouched and looked suspiciously at the monitor until it struck her what seemed wrong with it. It appeared that somebody had taken off the back of the screen and did not put it back together quite right. The doctor made a puzzled face and pulled out the Gerber from the pouch on her belt. “Care to explain this, Mister Maddox?”

Nestled in between the circuit boards and wires were plastic bags filled with shredded green leaves and others had a
very
questionable looking brownish powder that kind of looked like a mixture of cinnamon and sugar. Haskins could not help but feel a little pleased with herself when she watched Maddox gawp and look around, obviously grasping for an answer. She dropped the bags of weed into her cargo pockets then broke open the coke or heroin or whatever it was and dumped them out on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with the heel of her boot.

Haskins walked quickly back to the Aid Station and went straight into her office. Once inside she pulled out her keys and unlocked a steel cabinet bolted to the wall. She secured the bags of marijuana then picked up the phone on her desk. The doctor frowned at the slip of notepaper taped to the particleboard next to the handset then punched in the numbers.

“Yes, Major?” Beth said quickly then swallowed, her mouth suddenly going a little dry. “I need to talk to you for a moment, sir.” She frowned again and plopped down in chair. “The Blue Diamond guys are smuggling drugs into the FOB. There was some kind of powder that I think is heroin and what looked like weed hidden in a video monitor.”

She could practically hear Major Tennyson roll his eyes over the phone. “Damn.” the man muttered under his breath. There was a long awkward silence. “Alright. Did you confiscate the dope?”

“Yes, sir.” Beth glanced at the stainless steel cabinet over her shoulder. “Well I disposed of the powder. There was some alcohol as well though…I left that with them.” She smiled a little bit at her own ingenuity. “I thought that would give us probable cause to have the MPs search the mercenaries’ barracks.”

Rodriguez shrugged after watching the little spat between Lieutenant Haskins and the mercs. There were still several connexes to be unloaded, the contents inventoried and stashed away safely in the Supply Depot. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the booze and she absently wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her throat felt like it was lined with sand when she swallowed then turned on her heel and screwed a hard look onto her face.

“C’mon, guys.” Rodriguez growled at the three other soldiers on the detail with her. “This shit’s not gonna fuckin’ unload itself.” Her leg ached and she wanted some of that whiskey just a swig or two to knock it down a little… The fact that she was still tired from sitting on that radio watch and worried sick about Carl did not help her willpower at all. Still she was proud of herself: in Afghanistan she would have given a blowjob if it meant getting her hands on one of those little pint bottles. She wanted a drink but she was not about to cheat on her boyfriend over it or anything stupid like that.

“Hey, Rodriguez…” Private Holtz, a skinny black kid with a Bronx accent, stood at the back of the connex with his head cocked like a curious bird. “What the hell is all this shit?” There was a pile of wooden crates stacked at the far end of the shipping container.

Rodriguez pulled her flashlight out of its pouch on her plate carrier and joined Holtz. All the crates were painted green with funny yellow writing stenciled on it. It took a moment to catch on but the numbers 7.62x39 jumped out at her. “It’s guns, man.” Rodriguez grinned and clapped Holtz on the shoulder “A shitload of guns.”

The crates contained dozens of SKS carbines. Frannie gave the old rifles a puzzled look and shoved her end of it into the back of a truck. There were also tons and tons of ammunition, not just for the new weapons but also for their NATO standard rifles. 5.56mm Green Tip, 7.62x51mm, 40 mike mikes, M67 fragmentation grenades…every damn thing. Rodriguez could not help but wonder what Lacey would make of the bricks of British Semtex and Claymore mines too. Somehow she could picture the combat engineer grinning like a kid on Christmas morning over all the explosives and what looked like detonator parts.

Part of her started to get a little anxious as they finished loading the last of it into the trucks. All the new toys from Uncle Sam (or, as she gathered from the French writing on the connexes, Uncle Canuck) gave truth to the rumor of an offensive. She felt a little queasy. If they started combat operations that meant that Carl would be going outside the wire as soon as he got out of the hospital and completed training. She could not go with him seeing as how she could barely walk across the compound. It would not be so bad if Frays would be there to keep an eye on him to make sure he was alright… 

All of a sudden she wanted Carl’s arms around her more than anything in the entire world. Rodriguez glanced at her watch. It had been almost thirty hours since she had last slept between being put on radio watch and getting tasked out to help unload all the care packages. Frays was probably off by now and probably sitting with her brother over at the Aid Station. Lacey…where the hell would Lacey be about now? He would most likely over with his kids over at the Resettlement Center.
Goddamn my fuckin’ leg hurts…
Rodriguez thought as she sat down on the curb and started trying to massage some of the stiffness out of her thigh.

“Hey Rodriguez” PFC Thames, this big strong kid that sounded like he was from Nebraska or some shit flashed a grin and crouched next to her. “Holtz has one of those portable DVD players. We were all gonna get together later. Watch a couple of movies.” He showed her the cap and neck of one of the bottles of whiskey sticking out of his cargo pocket. “What do you say? Sound like fun?”

She was quiet for a moment suddenly torn in two. It would be just like old times huddled around a little flickering LED screen passing a bottle around, feeling like kids sneaking a taste from dad’s liquor cabinet. Old friends and good times… Rodriguez wrapped her arms around her torso and held herself tight for a moment. Thames sat down next to her with a look of concern on his face. “Are you okay?”