Page 54 of Deadly Strain

The doctor stepped out of the cubicle for a moment then returned with a set of scrubs and a lab coat.

“Good luck,” he said once Sharp was dressed. “I’d rather not have to sew you up again.”

“Me too. Thanks.” They shook hands. Then Sharp left the medical center and headed toward the landing field like he had an errand to run for someone important.

No one looked twice at him.

Bonus.

He entered the shack and found his team, their gear stowed near the door, ready to go, talking quietly as a group. “You lazy bums on a coffee break or something?”

Most people would have jumped to their feet, called out greetings and patted him on the back. These guys were too smart to do that. They all got to their feet with shit-eating grins on their faces, but not one voice rose in volume.

“About time you got here,” Cutter said, waving Sharp over. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I was on an all-expenses paid trip to the beach, but the food sucked, so I came home to this fabulous address.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, boss. We got shot down. Rasker and Williams didn’t make it.”

“What about the doc?” Cutter asked.

Sharp frowned. “You don’t know?”

“We’re out of the loop. Marshall won’t tell us jack-shit. His ass is going to be grass when the brass finds what a clusterfuck he’s whipped up here.”

“She survived the crash, too. We hauled ass to get back here as fast as we could, but it was close a couple of times. Marshall arrested her on a bunch of charges and has her in some brig somewhere on the base. She tried to tell him she has to get her samples to her lab, but Marshall isn’t having any of it. This shit is serious. If we don’t get it figured out soon, like twenty-four hours soon, a lot of people are going to die.”

“What do you mean?” Cutter asked.

“I mean, someone created the bug that killed everyone at the village. It kills fast and hard and everyone who’s been exposed to it has died. It’s one hell of a weapon.”

“Fuck me,” Runnel said.

“No thanks, you’re not my type,” Sharp said, and the moment of humor served to center everyone’s attention. “We have to bust Grace out of jail and get her wherever she needs to go.”

“Grace, huh?” Cutter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, you bleed all over someone, you end up on a first-name basis.”

Cutter’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Really. I’d have her at my back any day.”

“You and her, huh, Sharp?” Runnel asked with a suggestive smile.

“Nah, facing death and dismemberment isn’t the time to make a move. She is, however, a hellacious good shot when she’s under fire.” The fact that he had made a move was beside the point. Grace was too good for all of them, including himself. “So, you guys want to bust her out, or what?”

Runnel grinned. “I vote yes. Can you imagine the look on Marshall’s face?”

Everyone else nodded their agreement, and Cutter turned to Sharp. “We’re a go. Why don’t you put on some real clothes? We’ll find you a weapon and some essentials.”

“Sounds good to me, boss.” He put actions to the words and was re-equipped and ready to go in a few minutes.

Runnel handed him a rifle case.

“What’s this?” Sharp asked. His rifle was in pieces at the crash site and Runnel’s was strapped to his back.

“It’s my backup rifle.”

“Wow, and all I brought was a backup Beretta.”

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