Page 81 of Viral Justice

Max’s jaw dropped. “How is that possible?”

“They probably got a hold of at least one of our radios.”

“Theft? From where and when?”

“Things have been going missing,” Hunt said, his voice low and unhappy. “From a number of places on the base, some ours, some locally run.”

“That fits Akbar’s SOP. He likes to wreak havoc from the inside, and has been behind at least two of the most recent attacks in this part of the world. He’s ruthless and completely without conscience. He doesn’t even care if he kills himself.”

Max kicked himself for the umpteenth time. If he’d figured this out just a few hours sooner, a lot of deaths could have been prevented.

“We were all briefed on him. Scary bastard.” Hunt went back to watching the door. “Here comes Nolan.” He disappeared out the door.

Max glanced at Ali. Still asleep. She’d earned it.

He left the room and met Nolan along with a half-dozen of his team in the hallway outside the operating room. Hunt was speaking in a low tone to him and Nolan’s gaze met Max’s for a brief, intense moment.

Just how bad were things outside?

“Someone’s listening in?” Max asked the team leader.

“Yeah.” Nolan shook his head. “We’ve got a hell of a clusterfuck brewing here, Colonel. We counted at least thirty armed men and more are coming in. The supply drop was a good idea. From what we could see, these people have been isolated for long enough that they were running out of food and basic supplies.”

“Did the militants get it all?”

“No, sir. They got a lot of it, but the locals got to a couple of crates before anyone else could come in and chase them off.” Nolan stopped to take a breath. “Sir, I estimate that a third of the population is dead.” The last word almost seemed to echo. “Another third are sick.”

“What about aid groups? Did you find any that are operating?”

“Not really. Pretty much all of them are dead already, although I did find a couple people from the Red Cross, but they’re both sick and refused to let us get close enough to them to ascertain how sick they are.”

“Damn it.”

“The militants are going to be a problem very soon. You’re right about them looking for Americans. They’re searching tent to tent and house to house, but they are avoiding places with sick and dead.”

“Are they aware of you?”

“That’s how we found out they’re tuned in to our station. One of my guys found a bunch listening in. We did tell everyone we came into contact with that we were sick and got chased out of a lot of places, tents, and houses. That might buy us some time, but we’re going to need a shoot-and-run plan ready for when they do finally come after us.”

“I’ll leave that up to you and your team,” Max told him. “You’re the experts.” He was about to turn back to his makeshift lab, but stopped to share the most important piece of information Nolan needed to know. “The only person you have to impress is Sergeant Stone. She gets final say on any plans that involve me running, shooting, or fighting in any way.”

Nolan frowned. “That’s not how we usually do things—”

“I don’t give a shit.” He didn’t. “Her mission is to keep me safe, so it’s her ass that’s on the line if something goes wrong on your shoot-and-run plan.” Max pointed his index finger at Nolan to punctuate his next words. “You clear it with her or it doesn’t happen, do you understand, Sergeant Nolan?”

Except for a slight raise in his eyebrows, Nolan managed to keep his face neutral.

Max wasn’t sure if it was because the other man was surprised, impressed, or disgusted by Max’s words, and he didn’t care. All Nolan had to do was follow his own orders.

“Yes, sir,” Nolan said with a salute. “I’ve got a few men in watch positions around the neighboring buildings, so we should have some warning if things are about to get FUBAR.”

“Good.” Max turned around and took a step toward his lab.

Ali was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.

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