Page 51 of Deadly Strain

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t want your goddamn apology,” he spat at her. “I want a fucking explanation for why you chose to leave the majority of your team, and my men, to die.”

“They’realldead?” No one had mentioned anything to her. No one had even brought up the village and what was happening there.

“My entire original patrol is dead, thanks to you. The rest of the A-Team that went with you are fine, for now, but they won’t stay that way for long. Insurgents have taken up positions around the village and are trying to pick them off.”

“Did you send in some support?”

He lunged forward. “Don’t tell me how to do my job,” he yelled, not an inch from her face. She jerked back as his spittle landed on her eyes, nose, and mouth. “I sent support, but guess what, their helicopter came under heavy fire short of the village and barely made it back here intact.”

He walked around her, shoving her away from the exam table she was standing in front of, until he could circle her. “I was told you left in a bird with three of my men and two from the A-Team. Where are they?”

Was this some kind of trick question? “We were shot down, sir.”

He walked around her one full circuit before saying, “And you survived with a couple of scratches. How convenient.”

Ooh, that was the wrong word to use. “Convenient would have been arriving at my destination with my samples and my escort intact,” she said in as even a tone as she could manage. “Convenient would have been identifying the pathogen that killed everyone in that villageandyour men, and determining the correct procedure to contain and eradicate the pathogen.”

“What a load of sanctimonious bullshit,” he sneered at her.

“It wasn’t bullshit to regain consciousness after the crash to realize that most of the people with me were dead. Insurgents reached our crash site in minutes.Minutes, Colonel, and when they got there they proceeded to shoot everyone they found, alive or dead, in the head.”

“Explain to me how you and your boyfriend got away with so few injuries.”

She narrowed her gaze. “I’d found someone alive, one of your men. I was trying to find the emergency medical supplies when two Afghan insurgents arrived and began shooting everyone. I was hidden behind a piece of bulkhead, and though I hadn’t found the medical supplies, I’d found the backup weapons’ locker. I loaded a Beretta and shot them both.”

“You shot them?”

“Yes.”

“And your boyfriend?”

“Who are you referring to? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That sniper pal of yours, the one who never leaves you alone.”

“He’d been thrown clear of the aircraft. The two insurgents had spotted him and were moving in to kill him. I shot them first.”

“Well, isn’t that a nice, neat little story.” His sneer twisted even further. “I don’t buy any of it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re lying.”

His accusation made no sense whatsoever. “Why would I lie?”

“To cover up your earlier mistakes at the village that allowed my men to die of whatever bug killed them.”

“I made no mistakes.”

“I’ve got eight bodies and an Afghan advisor who says otherwise.” He stepped back and signaled to two armed soldiers standing a few feet away. “Lock her up.”

They approached her, one with handcuffs out.

Marshall had lost his mind. “What? Why?”

“I’m charging you with dereliction of duty, abandoning your post, and reckless disregard for human life,” Marshall said as his goons cuffed her and then started to march her out of the medical building.

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