Chapter 16
Posted: July 18, 2007 - 04:44:19 pm


Sanjay flipped the burger over with the spatula in one hand and a beer in the other. Grinning, he said, "This is the life. There's nothing like cooking burgers over the grill with an ice cold beer in hand."

"I know what you mean," Mike said looking over the gas grill. He asked, "How do you like this grill?"

"It's okay. I prefer the flavor of meat cooked over charcoal, but I don't have the control over the fire that it requires," Sanjay answered. He took a sip of his beer and continued, "It is real good for cooking fish, though. It is much better than my old grill."

"I never cook fish on the grill. Usually Karen will dip it in batter and fry it or she'll broil it with a little butter, lemon, and spices."

Sanjay wobbled his head in agreement and said, "I like catfish fried and the bass grilled or broiled. My wife has a recipe for a fish stew that isn't too bad."

Mike looked over at where the two wives were talking and asked, "Do you tell your wife that it isn't too bad?"

"Well, I tell her that it is very good," Sanjay admitted with a laugh. He lowered his voice when he said, "I might get some respect at work, but that ends the moment I enter the house through the front door."

Mike chuckled and then said, "I don't get to see you very often. How is it going at work?"

"It is going very well. The people working for me are concentrating on the ties between the research performed here and overseas. There are a lot of people who are answering to two governments. It really angers me a lot," Sanjay said.

"Yes. There is a lot of that going on," Mike said thinking about his investigations into the Chinese high energy weapons programs.

"You were one hundred percent correct about the Chinese. We allowed a leak to the Chinese government about a pending arrest of Dr. Ming. He suddenly returned to China and it appears he won't be coming back here," Sanjay said.

"You let him go?" Mike asked looking at Sanjay in surprise.

"No," Sanjay answered with a smile, "We didn't actually have anything with which to charge him. We just let out a little rumor and suddenly he was gone."

"Why did you do it?"

"He was about to kill another program headed by a former Chinese national. It was the Aerial Gauss Gun project. I didn't want them getting that while killing our chances to have it first," Sanjay answered.

Over at the picnic table, Karen was talking with Teva about children. Sanjay and Teva had two little girls four and six. Karen was telling about her fears that she and Mike would never have another child when Teva interrupted and asked, "Have you talked to Mike about what happened that day?"

"Well, we talked a little about what happened," Karen answered.

"Sanjay told me all about how Mike saved many people that day. He had everyone wear masks to protect them from the dust. He led them out of the building avoiding all of the dusty areas. Once outside, he took everyone upwind of the building where they would further avoid exposure. He told everyone to keep their masks on and not to move around too much.

"When Sanjay was processed through decontamination, he was told that he and Mike had no signs of radioactive material in their bodies. Mike is a hero. He saved Sanjay's life that day," Teva said. She looked over at Mike thinking that she was going to be eternally grateful to him for taking care of her husband.

"He didn't say anything about that," Karen said biting her lower lip. She adjusted Robert on her lap and thought about what Teva had said. It was different hearing stories about Mike from other people who were there. His story was almost identical with Teva's except he never mentioned that he was the one doing the leading.

Teva said, "Sanjay and I are trying to have a baby. We want to have a boy. I'm not worried about any radiation problems. I think you will have very healthy babies with Mike."

"You're looking pretty healthy. Being at sea must agree with you," Mike said with a grin. The Admiral looked tired and haggard.

"I wasn't at sea this time. I was up in New York at the Harbor to see what we can do about stationing a ship offshore until things get better," Vincent said. Although New York City had to request the National Guard to put down riots three times, they still didn't want a military presence parked off shore. He had spent almost three days in near constant negotiation and had to leave without having accomplished his mission.

"I heard the President telling the terrorists that they should stop the senseless killing on the television this week. It seems to me like things should calm down immediately with such strong leadership in the White House," Mike said. The President had talked about making reparations for past wrongs against the Arab countries.

Vincent nearly choked on hearing the President being described as a strong leader. He said, "That man is a total asshole. He's got more people guarding him than any President in the history of this country. Even though he spends almost all of his time inside Camp David, he tripled the number of Secret Service agents assigned to him. He hasn't made a public appearance in seven weeks."

"I wasn't talking about that. No, I was talking about his leadership in taking this country into the future. He's re-examining American Foreign Policy so that we'll be a softer gentler nation. He wants people to like us," Mike said. Central to his program was giving money to any country that wanted it. Mike didn't have to wonder where all of that money was going to come from; that had been the second part of his program.

"He wants to cut our budget by twenty-five percent as a show of good faith that we are moving away from being a Superpower that is to be feared," Vincent said with a snort of disgust. Shaking his head, he said, "I can't believe that any leader of this country would talk about cutting back the military at a time when it is being attacked by suicide squads who were trained and backed by foreign powers."

"Well, we've lost ninety percent of our former ability to gather intelligence about what is going on in the rest of the world. We can't tell you who is training and backing the suicide bombers any more, at least not with the one hundred percent certainty that the President demands. Of course, I'd be happy with ten percent certainty about now," Mike said.

"That's a shame," Vincent said. He took a sip of his club soda wishing it was a scotch. He had given up drinking the occasional scotch because he felt duty bound to be in full possession of his faculties in the event of another emergency. A couple of lucky strikes on the Navy and he could be one of the highest ranking men left alive. He asked, "How's Karen doing?"

"The attack on the CIA building really upset her. I don't blame her. A lot of our analysts are having a hard time dealing with it. We've had close to thirty percent of our people go on disability or quit. She's slowly getting over it," Mike answered. A lot of the field agents were getting jobs in the private sector in the area of security or threat analysis. A lot of companies with branches overseas wanted to protect their investments by knowing what kinds of threats existed. The general climate of fear had made anyone with even the least bit of background in security or intelligence analysis a very valuable commodity. Many of the analysts who had been in the building the day it had been attacked were hospitalized for emotional problems.

"I feel sorry for Robert. I have no idea what kind of world we're going to be leaving him," Vincent said.

Mike walked into the temporary headquarters of the NSA for his meeting with Jack Lancer. Three very large buildings being destroyed in the Washington area had really stressed the real estate market for business buildings. Many of the owners didn't want to rent to the FBI, CIA, or NSA out of fear that the entire building would be rendered unusable by a terrorist attack. The agencies had been forced to be a little creative in returning to business.

The temporary headquarters of the NSA was an example of that. The building was an old roller skating rink that had been empty at the time of the attack. It was a pretty heavy duty building that had a defensible perimeter, but that was about all that was positive about it. It beat the temporary headquarters of the CIA which was an abandoned grocery store.

Jack raised a hand in greeting and said, "I'm glad you could come."

"You said that you needed to talk to me," Mike said wondering once again why Jack had asked him to come.

"We finally got a secure conference room where we can have a serious discussion without much of a chance of being overheard. It is the most difficult hundred square feet of space to book in the entire country. I managed to get it for fifteen minutes," Jack said leading them towards the conference room.

"Fifteen minutes?" Mike asked.

"Yes. They are actually scheduling it down to fifteen minute intervals. I had to trade my first born son for that much time. The only way to actually get a full hour is to be on a first name basis with the man who assassinates the President," Jack said.

"Wow, that is tough," Mike said uneasily. Jokes about the death of the President were becoming all too common within the intelligence community. The scary thing was that some of the folks in that community could actually make it happen.

When they reached the conference room, Jack stopped and looked at his watch. He said, "The group inside will be out in two minutes."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive. I don't think anyone is willing to suffer the consequences of holding the room longer than their allotted time. Fights have broken out," Jack said.

Mike had expected Jack to laugh or even grin, but when Jack remained serious he realized that Jack wasn't kidding about fights breaking out. Shaking his head, he decided that he'd rather remain at the Internet Café.

The door opened right on time and four people came out. Based on the expressions on their faces, it must have been a pretty intense meeting. Mike wondered if the limited time in the conference room was forcing people to be more focused on their work. Jack said, "Let's get in."

"Sure," Mike said following Jack into the room. He paused and asked, "Is anyone else coming?"

"No," Jack said shutting the door.

"All this just to talk to me?" Mike asked.

"I went to the hospital the other day and talked to Dale. As you know, he is dying."

"Yes, I know," Mike said.

"He recommended that you take his place as representative of the CIA on the board of the Intelligence 100. I seconded that recommendation. Last night we met and voted on the matter. As of this moment, you are one of the five men directing the Intelligence 100," Jack said. He wasn't going to mention that it was now down to the Intelligence 82 and with Dale dying it was going to be the Intelligence 81 soon.

Stunned, Mike was left speechless for a full minute. He couldn't believe that such a position of responsibility had been given to him. When he finally recovered, he asked, "Why me?"

"Dale said that of everyone who came to visit him in the hospital that you were the most regular and actually listened to him rather than try to cheer him up. He thinks you're one of the finest analysts that he's ever worked with. He also said that you can make the hard decisions and carry them through. I agree with that assessment," Jack said. He wasn't going to mention the offer Mike made to administer the coup de grace if that was what Dale wanted.

"On what basis did he say that I could make the hard decisions?"

"It was your e-mail that people needed to be warned that prompted us to send out the warning before the attack. You were right and it did save a lot of lives," Jack answered. That meeting had been a brutal affair.

Surprised that his e-mail had been the trigger for the warning, Mike said, "I didn't know that."

"It's true. None of us even thought of it, but you did."

"Wouldn't Tim Brown be a better candidate?" Mike asked thinking that Tim was a more senior member of the team.

"Tim Brown was diagnosed with prostate cancer the day after the attack. He's undergoing treatment at the moment. I don't want to put any more stress on him than absolutely necessary," Jack answered.

"Damn," Mike said feeling bad that he didn't know that Tim was ill.

"It seems like a lot of us are dropping dead. If I was a suspicious man, I'd be worried," Jack said with a smile. He was a suspicious man and he was worried.

"What am I supposed to do in my new job?" Mike asked.

Handing over a thumb drive, Jack answered, "This will get you access to some additional information. Read it when you have a chance to be alone at the Internet Café. We meet every Wednesday night at seven in room ten at the Bethesda Medical Center."

"Wednesday night at seven in room ten at the Bethesda Medical Center," Mike repeated.

"That's right. Our time is about up. We should get out now," Jack said glancing down at his wrist watch.

Karen was riding atop Mike for the first time without a rubber since the CIA building had been destroyed. As time had gone by, she had accepted that it was highly unlikely that Mike had any chromosome damage from the radiation to which he had been exposed. Teva's comments had convinced her that it was safe. When Mike grunted his orgasm, she collapsed atop him.

After a few minutes, she said, "I want to have a baby."

"I know you do," Mike said rubbing her breasts.

"I want a little girl," Karen said with a smile.

"You should have told me earlier. I'd have ordered a sperm with an X Chromosome to take that egg and hold it," Mike said with a smile.

"Don't tell me that even your sperms are Marines," Karen said laughing lightly.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm a Marine through and through, all of the way to my gonads," Mike said.

"Maybe I should arrange for you to have a harem of a thousand women," Karen said suddenly somber.

"Why?" Mike asked curious why she would say that.

"I'd like you to get them all pregnant and produce enough Marines to get rid of all the terrorists," Karen said.

"I don't want a thousand women. I've got you. You're all the woman I want and need," Mike said rubbing her on the back.

Karen sighed and asked, "Are you going to get rid of all of the terrorists?"

"I'm doing my best," Mike said.

Upon looking up from his monitor, Mike stared at the screen showing the news channel. The television showed a video of a mall shot from a helicopter circling overhead. The caption read, 'Terrorists Attack Mall.' A few seconds later the caption was changed to read, 'Poison Gas Used At Mall.' He watched the closed caption of the dialog. The caption was always on so that they wouldn't have to put up with the continuous noise of the television.

With a very sick feeling in his stomach, he picked up the phone and dialed his wife's cell phone. After six rings, he was connected to the voice mail. Swearing, he stood up and said, "I've got to get over there."

Joe looked up at Mike surprised by the sudden action and asked, "What's the matter?"

"My wife is at that mall," Mike shouted as he ran out the door.

On getting inside his car, Mike pulled the pistol and holster out of the glove compartment. If he was going to an area where terrorists had been, he wanted to be armed. He cursed his mangled left hand as he struggled to get the holster on.

He drove out of the parking lot at high speed. The traffic was horrible and he had to slow down before he got into a serious accident. It seemed to him that as many people were driving towards the scene of the attack as were driving away from it. Another man driving like a maniac passed him on the shoulder of the road. Mike shook his head and said, "You won't do anyone any good if you die on your way there."

Taking his own advice, Mike eased off on the accelerator. When the exit for the mall appeared, he got off the highway. The mall was just off the highway, but his attempt to reach it ended about a mile from the entrance. Police had barricades preventing traffic from approaching it.

Mike flashed his CIA ID and was told that he'd have to walk to where they had set up an incident command center. Only emergency vehicles were being allowed closer to the mall than that. Swearing, Mike parked his car where he had been directed and headed up the street towards the mall.

Despite the fact that he was waving his CIA ID around, he knew that he didn't have any authority to be there. He hoped that nobody looked close enough to see that it said he was with the CIA, but he wasn't too worried. There were enough badges from alphabet agencies getting flashed around the place that he doubted anyone was even looking at them anymore.

Now that he was inside the outer perimeter, he paused to consider what a reasonable next move was. Looking over at the parking garage, he decided that he would go over to the parking garage and see if his wife's car was parked there.

The entrances and exits of the parking garage were blocked with wooden barricades to prevent anyone from leaving the mall. The idea was to keep people within an inner perimeter until they were processed through decontamination and medical. Having been through the procedure, Mike understood better than most what the victims of this attack were facing.

He hadn't gotten close to the parking garage when a van drove out of it and crashed through the wooden barricades. The van swerved and hit the policeman who was standing down the street from the barricade. From within the van, several shots rang out.

His training as a Marine kicked in and Mike ducked for cover pulling out his pistol in the process. The van was heading down the street towards him swerving from side to side as the driver tried to hit every responder in the area. Bullets were flying from within the van.

Realizing that it was one of the terrorists trying to get away, Mike stepped in front of the van. Taking careful aim, he squeezed off four rounds and then had to dive out of the way of the van. It crashed into a telephone pole behind him. Mike didn't bother to investigate, but headed towards the mall. He decided that he would have better luck getting into the mall than the parking garage at that point. There were enough people headed over towards the fallen police officers that his help wasn't needed.

A policeman, who had seen Mike shoot at the van, ran past and called out, "Good shooting."

Ignoring the comment, Mike continued on towards the mall focused entirely on rescuing his wife and son. He had nearly reached the command post when he came across a man in a Hazmat suit lying on the ground by the truck. Even with the barest of glances in the man's direction, there was no mistaking the hole in the suit with blood seeping out of it. Swearing softly at the knowledge that he couldn't walk past an injured man without rendering aid, Mike knelt down and turned the man over. Mike asked, "What happened?"

"Those bastards in the van shot me," the man answered; his voice was muffled within the Hazmat suit.

"Are you contaminated?" Mike asked feeling pretty confident that the man wasn't.

"No. I was just getting ready to go in," the man answered.

"Okay," Mike said feeling relieved that he hadn't been exposed to what ever had been used in the mall. He looked down at the man and then over at the line of ambulances waiting to carry off the victims of the attack. He couldn't leave the man lying on the ground and the ambulances were too far to call out for help. He picked up the man and staggered in the direction in which the ambulances were waiting.

One of the EMS personnel associated with the nearest ambulance to Mike had gone around to the back of the vehicle to smoke a cigarette. The man noticed Mike and gave a shout that brought others around to the back of the ambulance. Within a few seconds, they relieved Mike of his burden. Mike looked around trying to figure out what to do. He looked back at the Hazmat truck.

Ten minutes later, Mike was wearing a stolen Hazmat suit and headed towards the mall. At least some of the training received during his time spent in Iraq had come to a good end. The suit wasn't military, but it was similar enough that he knew how to wear it.

Mike stopped when he reached the entrance of the mall. Just through the doors, he could see that there were bodies on the ground twitching. There weren't any burns on the bodies that he could see. That eliminated the blistering agents. The fact that the people were twitching suggested nerve agents. Other people in Hazmat suits were carrying people over to a triage area.

For the next few hours, Mike made trip after trip into the mall to carry out people who were still alive. Most of them were in pretty bad shape. The longer he searched for his wife and son, the more worried he got. He wanted to run through the mall looking for them, but his personal honor wouldn't allow him to walk past a wounded person without helping. After all, he didn't want someone walking past his wife and son without helping them. The fact was that he wasn't entirely positive that his wife and son had actually been inside the mall despite the fact that Karen had called and told him that she was going there.

It wasn't until he went into a shoe store that he found Karen and Robert on the floor. Terrified of what he was going to find, he went over to where they were lying. Robert was dead, but Karen was still alive. She was just barely alive; even the tremors had quieted down as her body lost the will to live. Barely able to see past his tears, he knew that he could only carry one of them at a time. He picked up his wife and carried her out of the mall.

When he reached the triage area, they told him to take her to the terminal area. Mike didn't want to accept that decision, but looking down at her face he knew the truth. He laid the body down where they told him to take her. He was exhausted and could barely hold himself upright. Holding her hand seemed to eliminate the worst of the twitching. He kept repeating, "I love you."

Mike was surrounded by people slowly dying in a scene that would be the source of a lifetime on nightmares. The woman next to him started thrashing as a final seizure took hold of her. He grabbed her hand with his left hand to let her know that she wasn't alone. The touch of another human being calmed her down and her thrashing stopped.

Mike knelt there between the two women holding their hands and talking to them. He didn't know if either woman heard him or understood him. It didn't matter. He told his wife that he loved her. He told the other woman that he was there for her. First the woman next to him died and then a few minutes later Karen died.

With his spirit broken, Mike remained kneeling beside the body of his wife uncaring of what happened to him. Long before his wife had died, the air filter in the Hazmat suit had been pushed to its limits. The longer he stayed there, the worse his air supply became. Another man in a Hazmat suit found him slumped over the body of his wife.
Lazlo Zalezac
Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 17