Viral

know she was finished.

Where are they?

He watched the fire spreading from the southern corner of the airport. Helicopter searchlights probing the woods. Another truck approached from the west, whooshed past.

11:51. Charlie kept scanning the forest, left to right, for signs of anything moving. Nothing. 11:53. Suddenly, what sounded like a deep peal of thunder jolted him, rumbling the earth, shaking the car. The initial explosion was followed by another. The ground shook once again as the gas tank blew up and a fireball spread across the sky like a mad fireworks display, shooting plumes of flame high into the air, turning to clouds of thick, dark smoke over the forest. Charlie felt the heat as the flames lit up the woods. The main diversion. Jason Wells had placed a cell phone in each of the explosive devices. When he dialed the numbers, the ringing of the phone created a vibration in the bombs, activating a circuit to the blasting cap that detonated the explosive.

He heard three smaller explosions then, in succession, two diversions, one blowing the door off the hangar.

And then another, more distant sound. He saw headlights on the road behind him. Not a truck this time. Something else. He waited, holding his breath. A procession of smaller lights, lower to the ground, seemed to bounce off the pavement, coming toward him from the east. Another caravan of Jeeps.

11:59.

Mallory squinted into the trees, coughing now, as low clouds of smoke spread dark and acrid through the woods.

Where are they? Would they be able to make it through this?

Behind him the Jeeps passed, heading west, maybe fifty yards away.

New sirens sounded in the distance. The smoke had turned thicker. He lifted the rifle again and scanned the forest through the scope. Left to right, right to left. And after a moment, he thought he saw something: a dark shape, moving through the smoke among the trees. Or maybe not. Shifting, going side to side, back up the hillside. Running, back toward Position Four.

Nadra!

12:08.

For a moment, he lost her in the smoke and the darkness and the shadows—and then he saw her emerge, running out into the clearing, ducking down, slipping, regaining her footing. Yes! Nadra was safe.

But where was Jason Wells?

Nadra ducked down beside the car. Grabbed the passenger door handle, pulled it open, slid in.

“Jesus,” she said.

“Are you okay?

“I lost my fucking cell phone.”

“Where’s Jason?”

“He should be right behind me.”

They sat and stared into the forest, coughing.

Nothing.

“Come on, Jason!” Nadra hit her hand on the dashboard. “God dammit, come on, Jason! Come on!”

It was 12:12 when they saw him, running through the smoke, coughing violently. He looked disoriented. But when he saw them he changed course, heading straight for the back passenger door and getting in.

“Motherfucking smoke!”

Nadra slammed his palm. Charlie slipped the car into reverse, turned, then drove. The sky was bright with stars and moonlight, but there were no other lights visible to the east for maybe half a mile. He found the road and followed it, lights out, pushing the accelerator hard now, narrowing all of his attention on staying within the edges of the road. It was a while before anyone thought about talking.

“Shit!” Nadra said. Her face was covered in soot.

Jason said nothing.

“What happened?” Charlie finally asked.

“It didn’t work.”

“What didn’t?”

“The DPG. It didn’t work. It wouldn’t go in the tank.”

“Jesus,” Jason said.

He took out his cell phone. Covered the light with the palm of his hand and pushed a speed dial number. Moments later, the ground shook again. Mallory felt the car rattle violently, a tremble down his spine. An orange- black fireball shot into the sky behind them. Another gas tank fire. Maybe they would be too busy now containing the damage to worry about giving chase. Maybe. Charlie pressed the accelerator to the floor, driving sixty, then seventy, on the dark highway, lights out, following the course Jason had mapped. They tasted the odor of burning gasoline and spent explosives in the breeze all the way in. The fire in the woods was burning wildly now.

As the city came into view again, to their right, Charlie turned on the headlights.

He took a series of random turns, becoming lost in the maze of dirt roads that bordered the shanty towns. Everywhere people were gathered outside in groups, staring in the direction of the fire.

He finally found a way into downtown and parked on a residential street. The three of them got out and began walking, past the gawking clusters of curious people. They came to a park and found an open bench among the homeless men. Charlie and Nadra kept watch. Jason Wells sat and took out his phone again. Pushed one number. Then a second. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then he slipped the phone back in his jacket. Mallory turned to the northeast and waited. He saw the first explosion above the roofs of mud-brick houses, followed by a second one at almost the same spot. The ground shook momentarily as if by an earthquake. In the distance, women screamed. The train tracks. He turned to the east, saw two explosions light up the sky almost simultaneously. Felt the ground shake. The communications tower. Then he looked west. Moments later another blast flared up amid the fires outside the airfield. Nadra’s car, parked in the woods. People were running out into the street now, screaming. The breeze tasted of gasoline and acrid smoke. The pavement was littered with ash.

Mallory sat on one end of the bench, Nadra on the other.

“It didn’t work!” Jason said.

“Why?”

“The dart, the propellants, wouldn’t go in the tanks. There was no way. We were given bad information, maybe. I don’t know. I just know we failed. The tanks are still out there. All we have are these diversions.”

“Crap!” Nadra said.

They sat in silence for a long time, thinking about it, breathing smoke, until eventually they had nothing to do but return to their apartments. Nadra asked to meet Charlie in the morning. Then all of them would meet at eleven, to try to come up with a new plan.

The night was alive with the sounds of sirens and surprised voices. Charlie walked back by himself, coughing through the drifting smoke, breathing the acrid taste of failure in the early morning air. He felt weighted down but unable to give in. It was going up tomorrow. Eight million people. They couldn’t allow failure to be an option. It wouldn’t be. It wasn’t.

ISAAK PRIEST WATCHED the spreading fire on the satellite monitors at his home base along the Green Monkey River. The cameras at the airfield were no longer operational. Now the northeastern cell phone tower was out, as well. It didn’t affect him operationally. But it shouldn’t have happened. It couldn’t have, according to the Administrator.

So Charles Mallory was here, after all. That was very interesting. Maybe it was a good thing that he was here. Maybe he wasn’t really the enemy at all. Who had really sent him? It was a very interesting question.

Priest speed-dialed John Ramesh again. It took nine rings this time for him to answer.

“What’s happening?” Priest said.