Draden waited in the shade of a tall dipterocarp tree as a helicopter landed in the clearing and a crate containing food and other supplies was set in the grass. Men in the military garb of the Indonesian army raced back to the helicopter, and Joe emerged wearing a hazmat suit. He let Joe come to him. He didn’t like being out in the open with so many soldiers carrying weapons, most loosely trained on him. He couldn’t blame them. Many had probably seen the effects of the virus and wanted to ensure he didn’t get anywhere near them. Even so, it was the first time he felt like he was truly infected and a danger to innocent people.
After Draden deposited the virus and blood samples in Joe’s container, the commander of his unit stood for a moment just looking at him. It wasn’t difficult to read the mixture of compassion and sorrow in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Draden.”
Draden nodded. What was there to say? He knew how fucked-up it was to die from any hemorrhagic virus, the disease devouring his insides until every organ was nothing but liquid. “I’ve got a bullet. I’ll hold out as long as I can to give Trap and Wyatt and whoever else is working on this enough data to increase the chance of saving Shylah. She isn’t showing any symptoms and it’s possible she has more time than I do.”
Joe took the package from Draden. “We could airlift you both to a hospital. You’d get better care.”
Draden knew he wasn’t going to die like that, with everyone peering down at him like he was a science project. He’d seen it before, that undignified exit of life and he wasn’t about to go out that way. If he was in a hospital, he wasn’t going to be given a gun. “Not going to happen, Joe. You know me. I’d force these soldiers to kill me first. I’m not running around infecting anyone. I’m wearing a mask and gloves when I make kills. I had to go into the village in order to retrieve the virus, but I was careful not to contaminate anyone.”
“Stay close to the lab. The sicker you get, the more likely you are to have doubts about staying out here,” Joe cautioned.
“I won’t. You know me better than that. I do want you to give me a day to convince Shylah to go back with you. She won’t do it now, but I can convince her it’s best for mankind or some crap like that.”
“Draden …” Joe’s tone was even more cautionary.
“She might make it. I’m almost positive her blood is the one labeled P-one through -five. I think they were looking at her. Her given name is Peony. Whitney hired the three scientists to create viruses specific to each of the girls. Bellisia had one in her. Zara had two capsules placed in her. Shylah says she’s never gotten sick. Not ever. Not even with a cold.”
“You think this virus was designed to specifically target her immune system?”
“Yes. And that makes her all the more valuable to all of you. It’s possible she’s immune and you can create a vaccine and therapy for this virus using her blood.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
Draden knew he wanted Shylah saved at any cost. It was possible he was convincing himself she was the answer because he was falling for her and didn’t want her to die in the worst possible way. He shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that, but judging by the fact that not one person got out of that village alive, it has to have a fast replication cycle. Twenty-four to forty-eight hours tops, and I’m already showing signs. No one tried to get to the boats or to walk out. I made certain no one got out. I searched in every direction for miles. There were no tracks. I checked the infirmary where the MSS are holing up. No one was ill. There were no whispers of a terrifying disease. No rumors have gotten out yet.”
“We believe the attack on the doctors was an attempt to get the maximum publicity for the Milisi Separatis Sumatra so they could emerge as a terrorist organization that could strike fear in the hearts of every enemy. They had a virus capable of causing a pandemic and weren’t afraid to use it. It was decided not to give them that publicity and so far, they haven’t come forward to claim the deaths.”
“I killed their commander. The new one was reluctant to make himself and his men a worldwide target.”
Joe nodded. “It could be as simple as that.”
Draden shook his head. “I don’t think it’s simple. There’s more going on here than Whitney’s three crazy scientists getting pissed because he didn’t like the virus they created. Whitney sent Shylah to track them down and kill them. In the process of doing that, she found they were corresponding with a man by the name of Ethan Montgomery. He comes from Mississippi and went to school with the Williams brothers. He was purchasing the virus from them. Whitney may or may not have sent a hit team after him. I think Montgomery has been supplying his friends with money.”
“Whitney paid them very well.”
“Not when they didn’t deliver a virus that would kill Shylah. According to Shylah, and I know we have to take this with a grain of salt because Whitney lies, he specifically told them they were not to create anything resembling the Marburg or Ebola viruses. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. Whitney might very well have wanted to have the ultimate weapon, but first he would have wanted the vaccine. Who knows? At this point it doesn’t matter. You have to find them and take them out. And you have to get that virus back.”
“We’ve got people on Whitney’s scientists,” Joe said. “I’ll put someone on Montgomery. The most important thing for us now is to save your life and Shylah’s.”
Draden didn’t think Joe was a very good liar. “Were those we extracted able to collect tissue or blood samples from any of the people in Lupa Suku for the labs?”
Joe shook his head. “No, the MSS ambushed them before any of the work could actually get started. They said it was bad, Draden.”
“It was. I burned the bodies and the village to the ground. I didn’t want to risk animals feeding on them, or monkeys getting near them. I felt it was the safest thing to do.”
Joe indicated the supplies stacked on the ground. “We’ve brought fresh food and medical supplies. I’ll be back tomorrow, so let us know if you need anything else when you call in.”
Draden stepped back and saluted his friend and commanding officer. He had no idea what condition he would be in when he woke up in the evening. “It’s been an honor to serve with you, sir.”
Their GhostWalker unit didn’t stand on formality as a rule. They were different, and they would always be apart from society. They only had one another, so they were more friends than one having authority over the other unless it was military business. He felt it was important for Joe Spagnola to know how he felt about the man.
Joe looked stricken, but his back was ramrod stiff. “Fight, Draden. Trap and Wyatt and the others will work day and night to pull this off for you. You have to know that. And get some rest. You’re running on empty.”
That much was the truth. Draden shouldered the bags of supplies and made his way back to the ranger’s cabin. Shylah waited on the porch for him. The light hurt his eyes, but it didn’t matter. She looked beautiful there, waiting for him. His breath caught in his throat and he just stood at the bottom of the stairs staring up at her.
Her smile faltered. “Is something wrong?”
It was the absolute best question she could have asked. They were both infected with one of the worst viruses on e
arth and were sentenced to a horrific death, and she greeted him at the door, a smile on her face, and then asked if anything was wrong. What the hell kind of woman was she, and what had he ever done to deserve her? Nothing that he could think of, but it didn’t matter.
He was well aware he was weaving a fantasy around her, and she was doing the same around him. That didn’t matter either. If his arms weren’t filled with the supplies, he would have swooped her into them and carried her across the threshold.
“No, sweetheart. I think they sent us real food here. We’re not going to have to eat those nutritional”—he coughed a couple of times and made a show of clearing his throat—“rations Whitney sent you with.”
She laughed, just as he knew she would and then stepped back through the open door, allowing him entry. It was only then that he saw she had a rifle lying close to her thigh, out of sight when he’d first walked up.
“Who was that for? Me? Or Joe?”
“You I like. Joe, not so much.”
“He’s a good man, Shylah.”
“Maybe so, but that good man had a sniper in the tree just over your left shoulder. If the shooter made a move against you, he was dead. I let Mr. Badass sniper see he was in my sights.”
Draden didn’t like that. “Don’t risk yourself like that. I mean it, woman. He would have radioed to someone on the ground to cover you.”
“I would have gotten the shot off.”
He didn’t know whether to kiss her or yell at her. Since there was no use in yelling, and nothing to say because he would have done the same thing, he brushed a kiss along her temple as he slid past her and set the two bags of supplies on the floor beside the refrigerator.
“I’ll cook unless you really want to,” Shylah said. She pawed through the bags and then began to put the various items away. “I’d rather you rest.”