Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) (18 page)

The motorized sound grew louder until a high-profile, red and white Ford truck came flying over a steep rise in the trail. It was an F-250. The truck’s tires left the ground for a few seconds as its speed sent it airborne over the incline. It’s horn sounded just after it hit the ground, but it wasn’t a honk like Lucas expected.

Instead, the F-250 played a twelve-note melody from the song “Dixie.” It was the same playful tune that the 1969 Dodge Charger’s horn played in the TV series
The Dukes of Hazzard
. Apparently, someone forgot to tell the Ford’s owner that the General Lee in the show was a car, not a three-quarter-ton super-duty truck. A vision of Daisy Duke and her incredibly tight short-shorts filled his head.

He smiled. “If only.”

All eight of the powerful spotlights mounted to the truck’s exterior roll bar turned on as it raced toward him. Seconds later, the brakes stopped the tires from turning just as the front wheels angled sharply to the right, sending the vehicle sliding through the dirt as it made its way closer to Lucas. He covered his face as a shower of dirt and pebbles were sent flying his way. He waited for the shards of the debris to finish pelting his hands and arms, then looked up.

The truck was sitting sideways, perpendicular to his position—less than six feet away. The driver’s blacked-out window rolled down in uneven spurts, indicating a manual crank.

It was Masago. She smiled. “Did you miss me?”

He coughed after inhaling a mouthful of dust. “Up until just now.”

She blew him a playful kiss with only a pucker of her lips.

He ignored it. “I’m starting to think you get off on scaring the crap out of me.”

“Quit complaining and get in. We’ve got work to do.”

Lucas hobbled to the far side of the truck, realizing the discomfort in his knee was much less than before. He could now walk with only a marginal limp. The last half hour of flexing had helped tremendously, though he didn’t want to admit it to Masago. He was still pissed at her for the dangerous entrance she’d just made, so he faked a limp to the passenger door. He opened it and put his right hand on top of the door frame with his good leg standing on the door’s threshold. He pulled himself up a good two feet, then slid his butt into the seat. He slammed the door shut to make a point.

She rolled her eyes, then hit the gas before he could get the seatbelt on, giving him a mini-case of whiplash.

Three armored military Humvees crept forward in a single-file procession at two miles an hour, winding their way through a gauntlet of private security personnel and vehicles guarding the bio-tech facility on the south side of Tucson, Arizona.

General Alvarez kept a close eye on his replacement driver from the backseat, making sure the young private followed the lead vehicle precisely as the motorcade navigated the narrow corridor of barricades and parked near the main entrance.

A four-man team shot out of the lead vehicle, sprinting to take defensive positions around the front of the general’s ride. Alvarez was tempted to look back over his shoulder to check the deployment of the follow team, but decided against it. He was confident his men had used their training and were in position to protect against a rear assault or sniper attack.

General Alvarez waited for Private Stetson to walk around to the passenger side of the Humvee and open the door for him, which he did, though it took him much longer than it should have. Alvarez stepped out of the transport and put on his cap and sunglasses, ignoring the salute from the driver.

A man approached the general from the main building, wearing dark-rimmed glasses and a tailored business suit with a red and yellow striped tie. “Welcome, General,” the businessman said with confidence energizing his voice. “Good to see you again.”

The general recognized him. “Where are they, Shelby?”

“They’ve been secured in quarantine,” Shelby answered, extending his hand in the direction of a massive industrial complex about thirty feet away. “I’m assuming that’s where you want them held. It’s the most secure area of the property. Airtight, shielded, and incursion proof.”

“Lead the way,” Alvarez responded, appreciating the efficiency of his former second-in-command. He could hear the clatter of equipment and footsteps closing in around him as his eight-man security team covered his movement.

Shelby walked toward the entrance to the sprawling, five-acre network of interconnected buildings. The property was owned by a privately funded bioengineering company called Micro Matter, founded twenty years earlier by world-renowned biochemist and world record holder for the ugliest beard and mustache, Dr. Charles C. Starling.

The general followed his escort into the reception area, just beyond the all-glass main entrance. Four members of his team remained outside while the remainder of the unit joined him inside. Alvarez took his sunglasses off after walking through the front door. “Has the bearded wonder sent everyone home for the day? Management included?”

“Yes, sir. Dr. Starling carried out your orders to the letter. I made sure of it.”

“Excellent. But you don’t need to call me sir anymore,” Alvarez said as Shelby led him across the marble-floored lobby toward the first hallway on the left.

“Sorry, sir—General. Force of habit. Where are the rest of your team?”

“They’re en route. They were engaged in another op when Starling called for assistance.”

The interior was just as Alvarez expected: clean and sparsely appointed. The white walls, white ceiling, and white floors were almost too white, making him rethink his decision to remove the shades. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the overhead lighting and the whiteout effects.

“What’s the status of your security team?” he asked Shelby.

“Three of the four responsible for capturing the insurgents are standing guard in quarantine. One was critically wounded. He’s on his way to Arizona Medical Center, but he’s not expected to survive.”

“Losses are inevitable.”

“Yes they are, General. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Your man knew the risks when he accepted this duty.”

Shelby nodded. “We all know what’s at stake. I’m just not sure what to say to his wife.”

“That’s always the difficult part. It’s a burden that all leaders must carry for the rest of their days. Hopefully, he pulls through, then you’ll be able to deliver positive news. If not, just keep it short and on point. She won’t hear most of what you tell her anyway. What about the captives?”

“They’re conscious. But I don’t recognize their strange-looking uniforms. Must be part of a new para-military organization.”

“Is Starling with them?”

“The director hasn’t left his office since the incursion began.”

“Why?”

“Emergency meeting with the Board of Directors.”

“You said management had evacuated.”

“They did. It’s a video conference call. Starling is alone in his office, as usual. He rarely accepts visitors.”

“Is he still wearing sunglasses and the ball cap everywhere he goes?”

Shelby gave him a single, efficient nod. “A bit of a recluse, I suspect.”

“Not your typical CEO.”

“No, he hates the limelight. I think that’s why the board meetings are all done online. He prefers to be left alone.”

“At least it keeps him out of your way.”

“Yes, he lets me do my thing. Makes my job a whole lot easier.”

“Have you done a floor-by-floor search? There may be additional intruders.”

“The rest of my team completed their sweep less than ten minutes ago. We only found the six men.”

“Have you been able to extract any information?”

“Nothing. Not their names, ranks, or serial numbers.”

“That will change soon.”

Shelby pulled a thin, black metal box the size of a cigarette pack from his front pocket. “Starling instructed me to deliver this to you personally.”

Alvarez took the container and opened it. Inside were six vials of a neon-blue-colored substance.

“Just as agreed,” Shelby told him with authority. “Six perfectly balanced doses of Protocol 5.”

“Time for activation?”

“One minute, twenty-one seconds after injection.”

“Excellent.”

“Some last-minute adjustments brought it down from two twelve. Starling figured you’d be pleased.”

Alvarez ignored the obvious fishing attempt by his former and snapped the container shut. He slid it into his pocket. “What about the control unit?”

“It’s waiting for you in quarantine. Dr. Starling prefers not to keep them stored together, for obvious security reasons.”

“Sounds like he finally solved the cohesion problem.”

“Yes, three days ago, after a complete remapping of the viral receptors. Only took him thirty years to finally get it right.”

“Good timing, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wondered the same thing. Out of nowhere, he ordered the development team to work triple shifts.”

“Almost as if he knew something was coming,” Alvarez added, reaffirming his gut instinct not to trust the bearded recluse.

“It’s not the first time his instincts have proved correct.”

Shelby turned right, heading down the next corridor. “Interrogation of enemy combatants will never be the same after this.”

“No doubt,” Alvarez said.

“How did you manage to convince him to let you administer the first live trial?”

“Actually, it was his idea after he came to me with another one of his incredible predictions. Turns out his intel was spot-on. He saved a lot of lives.”

“He’ll be glad he came to you, General. You’re the finest commander I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving.”

Alvarez appreciated the compliment, but didn’t acknowledge it. Doing so would have broken one of his own rules as a commander. He had a reputation to uphold, and affirming a subordinate’s narrow platitude was a waste of time and energy. But then the softer side of his psyche spoke up and reminded him that even though Shelby wasn’t part of his command anymore, the man had earned his respect and deserved a modicum of civility. Alvarez agreed with himself and decided to loosen the grip on his own arrogance.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to rejoin the unit?”

“I appreciate the offer. But I can’t afford to give up this high-paying gig.”

“There’s always a place for you, Shelby, if you should decide you miss the action.”

“I do miss it, but military pay just doesn’t cut it. Not with nine mouths to feed.”

The general was pleased Shelby took his advice and had settled into his role as a family man.

“Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

“You could say that. If my wife even thinks about sex, she gets pregnant.”

“Feel fortunate there’s still plenty of lead in your pencil. Trust me, that won’t always be the case.”

Shelby smiled. “I wish I could take all the credit, but Starling’s new fertility drug added five to the mix all at once. The all-night feedings and diaper changes are wearing me out.”

“Enjoy the chaos while you can. Someday you’ll be a relic, like me, and miss the blissful insanity of little ones. There’s really nothing quite like it. Find some time to take it all in. These days will never come again. Before you know it, they’ll be heads-down, buried in their iPads and Facebook, forgetting they once idolized you.”

“Roger that,” Shelby said, turning another corner. “How’s your daughter doing? Is Jasmine still living in Tucson?”

“Still here. She’s been working and studying a lot. I rarely hear from her. But that’s to be expected when you’re busy putting yourself through medical school. She’s not afraid to work hard for what she wants, but sometimes she forgets there are people who miss her and need to know how she’s doing. I just wish she’d let me or my ex help her financially, but she says she wants to do it all on her own. She’s stubborn and independent that way. She texted me a couple months ago and told me she landed a high-paying job working as a bartender at a popular club, so she quit her cafeteria job. Higher pay means less hours. More time for studying, but never any time for her old man.”

“Which club? Maybe I’ve been there?”

He didn’t want to share the name of the strip club, fearing Shelby would think less of his daughter, and less of him by extension. “It’s one of those new dance clubs on East Broadway, but I can never remember its name. But which club it is, really doesn’t matter. I’m just happy she’s healthy and happy. That’s all a father can ask.”

“She has a good heart. She’ll make a fine doctor someday.”

The general couldn’t hold back the prideful smile that took control of his lips.

Shelby stopped walking when he came to a double swing door leading to the next section of the building. He propped the right half of the door open with his foot and pointed to the far end of the hallway.

“That door leads to the medical bay. Just beyond that is quarantine.”

Alvarez squeezed past him. “We’ll take it from here. You’re dismissed.”

“I should accompany you, General.”

“That won’t be necessary. My men and I have it covered. I’d prefer not to get you involved.”

“Plausible deniability?”

The general put his hand on Shelby’s shoulder. “It’s hard to put food on the table when you’re rotting away in a jail cell. Civilian authorities don’t have a sense of humor about these things.”

“Should I remain here, as secondary support?”

“You and your men are to take the rest of the day off. Spend time with your families. You’ve earned it.”

“Sorry, General. I can’t leave the facility unsecured. Starling would have my ass.”

“When the rest of my team arrives, they’ll establish a secure perimeter and lock down the complex. If Starling has an issue, remind him that
he
called
me
. This facility is now under my jurisdiction.”

“As you wish, General,” Shelby said, handing a security access card to Alvarez. “Today’s access code is Charlie-Zulu-four-nine-eight-five.”

“My men will need a building schematic. And access cards.”

“I’ll make sure your team has everything they need. Do you need me to walk you through administering the substance or operating the control unit?”