Pipe Dreams (27 page)

CHAPTER 48

T
he mentholated rub on his
upper lip helped mask the horrible odor, but didn’t eliminate it completely. CoCo gagged as he sloshed through the muck, traversing pipes full of fresh excrement and foul water. Though they had prepared for this, donning plastic clothing and rubber gloves before their descent, the squish of his feet through the sludge was disgusting. He couldn’t wait to surface and breathe clean air.

Ashley plodded along in front of him wearing borrowed gear. They had torn through private rooms in the basement in search of suitable garments for her, but what they had come up with was far from ideal. She had a waterproof rain jacket, rubber kitchen gloves, and layers of garbage bags tied to her legs.

CoCo was impressed with the girl. She had not complained once since they began their journey across the city. When the men had turned on the flashlights attached to their weapons, she had even thanked them. The flashlights didn’t reveal anything worth seeing, but he was glad they made her happy.

The sight of human waste commingled with swimming rats, used tampons, and soggy toilet paper was vile.
CoCo wished for a respirator and oxygen tank. Those items had been discussed, but, in the end, did not make the cut. The tanks were too cumbersome and, if necessary, the team could always surface.

“How much farther?” he called to his point man.

“Not long. Maybe a quarter mile,” Bill replied. CoCo sighed and tried to think pleasant thoughts.

The column came to a halt a short while later. Bill scaled the rusty rungs of the utility ladder and pried up the manhole cover with brute strength and a heavy crowbar. He slipped the end of the bar through the narrow opening, letting in a thin shaft of daylight. Then he took the camera out of his pocket and snaked it through the slit before descending.

Malone had already turned on his small computer. The street above them came into view on the screen. They would wait here until dark. Once safe to move, the team would split again. CoCo would take the majority of the men with him to the plant and begin reconnaissance there. Ashley would stay with Bill and Don and try to identify Lewis’ residence.

He had thought long and hard about his decision to divide the team. Everything about this mission was a crapshoot and Ashley
’s story had given them the only solid information about the location of the vaccine so far. Still, her ability to find Lewis’ building was a long shot and CoCo’s orders were clear.

He would prefer to stay with her, but couldn
’t risk the mission if her efforts failed, so he was sending her with the two men on his team he trusted most, after Malone. They would radio when they found the building, lay low, and begin observation. If they didn’t find it before dawn, they would drop back into the sewer and reconvene with the rest of the team at the plant. Maybe, if they were all pushing for answers, something would give.

By the time the light faded from the sky, the team was irritable. Nobody wanted to eat standing in filth and everybody was hungry. The small talk faded into an unnerving silence and tension was palpable when Malone finally gave the all clear and
CoCo issued his order to go.

After pocketing the camera, Bill wrestled the heavy, iron lid free. Wedging his body through the opening, he signaled for the rest of the team to follow. They scaled the ladder and joined him on the street.

The fresh air was a welcome relief, but they didn’t stop to appreciate it. Climbing out of the hole, they dashed into the alley and away from the streetlights. Then the bulk of the team waited while Ashley, Bill, and Don stripped off their filthy outerwear. The men rolled the gear into bundles and strapped the bundles to the outside of their packs. They would all have to live with wet boots.

CoCo
wished them luck and left without looking back. Instead, he focused on the task ahead. Intel indicated the plant would be heavily protected. Getting inside without detection was going to be difficult at best. What happened after that was anybody’s guess.

As they descended into the sewers again, they moved away from the more populated area inside the Zone. The terrain got drier and easier to traverse and they picked up the pace. Their flashlights bobbed up and down, casting strange shadows on the pipe walls and sending rats scurrying.

CoCo was hot. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his damp shirt clung to his skin. The swish of plastic competed with the soft pad of their boots as they approached their target. Nearing the plant, the point man held up a hand. Instantly, the team stopped. They dropped their packs on the mostly dry floor, shed their outerwear, and adjusted their belts. From this point on, each man would carry only essentials. Like owls on the hunt, they would become silent, alert, and deadly. As CoCo readied himself for the job, training and long experience kicked in and all thoughts beyond the mission receded to the far corners of his mind.

The pipe intersected with a smaller one that connected to a floor drain inside the plant. Dropping to their knees, the team killed their flashlights, donned night-vision goggles, and crawled into its narrow opening. When they reached the drainage tank, the point man lowered himself into it. Then he took out the camera and attached it to a telescoping rod he had stored on his belt. When the rod was fully extended, he poked the camera through the grate. Connecting the video feed, Malone turned on his laptop. After several minutes, he signaled an all clear.

Two more men dropped into the hole. They worked together to attach ropes to the metal frame holding the grate. When the ropes were in place, they shimmied up, lifted the grate, and shoved it aside. Finally, they pulled themselves out of the drainage and onto the cement floor, forming a defensive perimeter while the rest of the team made the ascent. When everyone was in place, the grate was returned to its original position.

Using night-vision, they surveyed the area. The truck bay was empty and dark. Metal stairs led up to loading docks at regular intervals. A large rollup door was closed behind each of them. At the far end of the bay was a metal fire door. They crept toward it, making as little noise as possible in the cavernous space. When they reached it, they stopp
ed to listen. Hearing nothing, the point man dropped to his belly and made a small hole between the door and its frame with a portable drill. Again, they used the camera to see into the empty office on the other side. CoCo tried the doorknob. It turned easily.

Inside, a cheap, plastic blind covered a window on the interior wall. A small amount of light filtered through it. Cautiously,
CoCo raised the bottom edge. The narrow slit revealed a dimly lit warehouse. Large pallet racks covered the floor, but he didn’t see any people. This was unexpected and made him nervous. Where were the guards? 

On a regular mission, his team would cut the power, create a distraction, and locate the target, but this was not a regular mission. Everything they did from this point forward would be based on instinct.
CoCo didn’t like it at all. As he formulated a plan of action, his earpiece crackled. Startled, he jumped. There was not supposed to be a communication from base. The team was to make contact when they had something to report and only when safe for them to do so. He acknowledged the order and swore. They were to abandon their current location, return to the Zone, and attempt to apprehend a civilian.

CoCo
scratched his ear and considered the situation. Now inside the plant, it would be foolish to evacuate without doing some reconnaissance. Nevertheless, the order had been clear. The new coordinates were to take immediate priority.

Unwilling to further divide the team, he would pull Bill and Don off their chase and send them to the new location. Once in place, they could determine whether the rest of the team was necessary. Apprehending civilians typically wasn
’t difficult. Getting Ashley to stay put while they went in would likely be far more challenging.

CoCo
turned the channel on his radio and relayed the information to the other team, instructing them to communicate directly with base when and if they found anything.  Bill’s voice through the earpiece was small and tinny when he replied.

“Got it. Moving now.” 

“Okay. Keep me informed.” CoCo turned his attention back to the window and calculated his risks. Then, his mind made up, he turned to the team and laid out his plan.

CHAPTER 49

T
he story McGrath had told
was mostly true, though it had been his brother who had mangled the fish. Regardless, he thought the comparison had merit. Things did go terribly wrong all the time. As his mother used to say, the road to hell was paved with good intentions. He thought it likely the men who had designed the NSO had been sincere in their desire to do good. God knows the world was in trouble and there had been no end to people thinking they were wise enough to fix it. Marx’s manifesto was a brilliant piece of work and Communism looked great on paper.

Unfortunately, people were people. No system McGrath had ever seen had managed to effectively compete with the negative aspects of human behavior. In the end, every empire succumbed to Mother Nature or human greed. If history had taught him anything, the human component was by far the more dangerous of the two.

As he waited for Vanessa to speak, McGrath studied her, gauging her reaction to his theory. A plethora of emotions crossed her face like a lightening storm – beautiful and frightening at the same time – while she looked out the window at the dark lake. The moon had not yet risen and the sky was a wash of stars. In the drab cafeteria, most of the lights had been turned off, but past the far end of the room, pots and pans clanked as the cooks cleaned up the kitchen for the night. Impatient, McGrath tapped his thumb on the table, craving a cigarette. Finally, Vanessa straightened.

“Colonel, I appreciate your metaphor. It may even be accurate, but I
’m not a child. I know who Isaac and my Papa were. No matter what else surfaces, I will always believe they were good men and I will always love them. None of that has anything to do with what is happening now. I didn’t survive this for nothing. I can’t always control how I react, but I’ll do my best. The NSO must be destroyed. If I can help you to do that, I will. But it is not for you. It is not even for all the people who will suffer if you fail. It is for my Papa. It is for my father. It is for the Kovalic name. I promised them it will endure and I intend to keep that promise.”

A chill coursed through McGrath
’s body. The determination in her voice, the steel in her eyes, and the square of her shoulders revealed a different Vanessa Kovalic. The strength of her conviction was the fire that fueled her. In spite of the brutality she had borne, the trauma she had witnessed, and her fractured composure, Vanessa was more than a survivor. She was a queen.

Michael was having a similar reaction. If he was a lion, with his mane-like hair and cat eyes, she was the lioness. The realization showed in his posture. Until now, he had been casual, cocky, and guarded. Hearing her proclamation, he
animated. As he leaned forward, curiosity, excitement, and respect replaced his affected apathy. Staring at Vanessa, his face alight, years fell off him and he appeared young, open, and in love. If McGrath hazarded a guess, Michael had glimpsed this part of her, but had never seen it fully exposed. The transformation was breathtaking. He wished he could bottle it to give back to her the next time her spirit flailed.

The spell was broken when a uniformed young man burst through the cafeteria door. “Colonel, there
’s an urgent message from the team,” he said. Instantly, McGrath was on his feet. Vanessa and Michael followed him to the command post. Technical equipment, including radar screens and brightly lit computer monitors, filled its darkened interior. At a large console on the right, another young man beckoned. McGrath donned a headset and his face fell. After a minute, he asked for details, instructing the person on the other end of the transmission to describe the scene like he was writing a book. The man objected and McGrath lost patience.

“I don
’t give a damn about radio silence! We’re running out of time. I need the details,” he yelled into the transmitter. A period of silence ensued while the team relayed the information. Then the colonel told them to wait for further orders. Stroking his jaw, he turned to Vanessa.

“Harry Rose is dead,” he said.

“Dead? How?”

“Suicide, apparently. They found a note.”

“What did it say?”

“Forgive me. I have lost my faith and failed us all,” he recited. As Vanessa and Michael absorbed the news, McGrath continued.

“But that’s not what’s strange. What’s strange is how they found him. He was sitting in a chair, wearing a prayer shawl. He had a yarmulke on his head and was holding the Torah. Vanessa, I thought you said none of the administrators were Jewish.”

“They aren
’t. Or I didn’t know. Harry never gave any indication that he…” She broke off, covering her mouth with her hands. Then she exclaimed, “Oh my god!  That’s it. That’s what I’ve been trying to remember!”

“What, Vanessa?” McGrath asked.

“The mezuzah!  He had a mezuzah. I asked him about it once and he got embarrassed. He said it was gift from a close friend.”

“Jesus Christ!  The gifts. Do you think…?” McGrath spun around, picked up the transmitter, and shouted, “Look for a mezuzah!” Then he stopped and turned back to Vanessa. “What the hell is a mezuzah?”

“It’s part of the mitzvah. Jews are required to place a parchment, inscribed with a specific prayer, in the doorframes of their homes. Usually, the parchment is located inside a small, decorative case. Harry’s was ornate. Intricately carved wood and gold letters. When I was there, it was in the door to his office.” Vanessa replied. McGrath relayed the information and waited while the team searched for the object. After a few minutes, he nodded.

“Open it up,” he commanded. “I want to know what
’s inside.”

“Colonel, can we hear what
’s being said?” Vanessa asked when he finished speaking. McGrath agreed, instructing his subordinate to put the conversation on speaker. It didn’t take long before a deep voice filled the room.

“The writing
’s really small. It’s hard to make out. There are a bunch of circles, with writing inside them, connected with short lines. I’m not sure what I’m looking at here,” it said.

“Look carefully. Is there anything else, any kind of note?” McGrath urged.

“No. Wait. Yes. There’s another piece of paper wedged inside. Hold on a second.” They listened while the man struggled to dislodge the paper. Then his voice came back.

“It
’s a message. I can just make it out. It says, ’Two of three. What has been built can be destroyed. Brothers, we are bound in faith. We are imperfect, but if it comes time to act, do not be afraid. I trust you implicitly. I always have. Get the antidote to the CDC. They will know what to do.’ The note is signed, ’With great affection, GK.’ Jesus. Is this what I think it is?” he asked.

“It could be,” McGrath replied. He turned to Vanessa. “What made you think of this?  Do you have any idea what the other gift might be, or who would have it?”

“Yes. I knew there was something, some kind of connection between Harry and Isaac, but I couldn’t remember it. Isaac has the same mezuzah. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t be strange. Lots of mezuzahs are exactly alike. But Harry wasn’t Jewish, or I didn’t think he was. Colonel, it has to be the other part of the formula. Isaac’s living room also served as his prayer room. The mezuzah was in that doorframe.”

McGrath nodded, already talking into the transmitter. “Get back to your original coordinates. Check the doorframe in the living room. Hurry. And get me images of what you
’ve got, ASAP.”

“Ah, Colonel, there
’s a bit of a problem with that. We’re short one intel officer. Sergeant Malone is with the rest of the team at the plant. It’s going to take some time to get back across the city and some time for him to meet up with us.”

“Shit!” the colonel hissed. “Do what you need to do, but get on it.”  He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the radio console. Then he barked at his subordinate, who had been rapt on the conversation.

“Send a message to the Pentagon. Let them know we need the CDC involved. Any word back from intel on what we’ve sent them so far?” 

“Not yet, Colonel. I
’ll let you know as soon as anything comes in.”