That’s the kind of thing Jack would know.
But if the two men noticed their presence, they gave no indication.
Suddenly, the roof access door flew open behind them with such force that it rebounded off the exterior wall with a bang that, given Sara’s state of mind, sounded like a shot. She whirled involuntarily and caught sight of a lone individual, dressed in the now familiar black uniform, sprinting toward the helicopter. As he passed them, Sara saw that he was carrying a clear plastic bag with a large white-yellow object inside.
The ape skull!
The man did not even glance in their direction, but a moment later, two more men burst from the door, and they did look.
Sara gaped at them. It was like watching a movie. The two men turned, squared their shoulders, and raised their guns.
Fulbright grabbed her arm and propelled her past him. “Go!”
He fired several shots in the direction of the two gunmen. One of them winced but shrugged the impact off as though it were nothing more than a slap. Then, their guns spoke.
The report was thunderous, far louder than Fulbright’s pistol. Concrete exploded above Sara’s head, showering her with grit, but then she rounded the corner with Fulbright right behind her.
“Keep going,” he shouted.
Sara ran, but no more shots were fired. Instead, she heard the whine of the helicopter’s turbines powering up. In a matter of seconds, the whoosh of the rotor blades carving the air became audible and quickened to a roar of engine noise and wind.
They rounded the corner to the back side of the superstructure where Fulbright signaled for her to stop. He ejected the magazine from his pistol, reloaded, and then began scanning in both directions for signs of pursuit. Sara cocked her head, hoping to hear the sound of footsteps, but the noise of the helicopter drowned out everything.
It became apparent after a few minutes that the gunmen weren’t going to engage them. Sara heard the change in pitch as the helicopter lifted off and then flew almost horizontally away from the rooftop. Fulbright edged around the corner as the tempest quieted.
“They’re gone.”
Sara sagged against the wall, but her relief quickly gave way to anger. “All right. Answers.”
Fulbright’s face was flushed with the exertions of running and fighting, but he tried to bring back his roguish smile. “I told you everything I know.”
“Like hell you did. You know a lot more than you’re letting on. Your secrets put me and my team…” She faltered as she recalled Fulbright’s earlier comment. Her co-workers-her friends-might already be dead. “If something has happened to them, it’s on your head.”
Fulbright sighed, his expression contrite. “I knew there was some risk. People who try to develop bio- weapons usually don’t have a lot of scruples. But I couldn’t have known anyone would try something like this.”
His words did nothing to soothe her, but she saw that there was nothing to be gained by venting her rage. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the bigger picture. “What do you know about this pathogen they’re after? That woman-Dr. Carter-she didn’t look sick. I don’t think she was sick.”
He spread his hands. “I told you what they were looking for-some kind of ancient virus. When Felice Carter came back from the expedition, in the state you saw her in, I assumed that she had become infected. That’s why I sent for you. And the fact that somebody hit us here today, tells me that I was right. She found something out there and brought it back.”
“It didn’t look like that assault team was interested in her. But they took that ape skull she was holding.”
“They did?” Fulbright’s forehead creased in a frown. “Damn it. I should have realized how important that was.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter. Even if there is useful genetic material in that skull, it’s very unlikely that it’s going to turn out to be some kind of super monkey flu. And if there is something like that, Dr. Carter would have been exposed to it and there will be evidence in the blood samples I took.” She pushed away from the wall. “I need to get back down to my team. I have to know that they’re okay.”
Before Fulbright could answer, his phone chirped. He took it out and glanced at the caller ID before answering. “What’s your ETA?…Good, we’re on the roof.” He covered the phone with a hand and addressed Sara. “They wouldn’t have hit us here if they weren’t certain that Felice had what they were looking for.”
He uncovered the phone. “Send a ground team here to collect the rest of the CDC team and their equipment. Take them to the safe house.”
He thumbed the end button and turned to Sara again. His face was stony with resolve. “Our ride will be here in two minutes. Those blood samples just became the most important thing in the world. I have to keep them, and you, safe.”
9.
A firefighter spied King and Felice as they left the stairwell on the first floor, and guided them to the exit. The fire in the conference room appeared to have been contained, but a pall of smoke hung in the air and the damage appeared considerable.
Outside, King scanned the crowd. There were a few white faces among the dark-skinned local population, but no sign of Sara. He heard the distinctive sound of a helicopter taking off from the roof, high overhead; it could only be the assault force making their getaway.
“We’re exposed here,” he told Felice. It was perhaps a poor choice of words. In her hospital gown, Felice was very literally exposed. Fortunately, there were dozens of other patients in a similar state of undress filling the street in front of the hospital, and no one seemed to notice her. King however wasn’t worried about someone ogling her.
The men in Felice’s room had been armed with a very distinctive type of pistol. Normally, when staring down the barrel of a gun, a person doesn’t try to identify the make and model, but the Metal Storm O’Dwyer VLe pistols the men had been wielding sported a unique four-barrel configuration that was impossible not to recognize. The VLe pistols were radically different from traditional guns in that they had no moving parts. Instead of a mechanism to advance one round at a time into the firing chamber, the Metal Storm pistol had caseless rounds already stacked in its four barrels, and fired them with an electrical charge. A single trigger pull could unload the pistol in a fraction of a second. The design was still considered experimental, and prototypes were prohibitively expensive for the run-of- the-mill mercenary.
“I think those men planned to kill you,” he continued, “and there’s a good chance some of them stayed behind to make sure the job was done.”
“Kill me?” It was clearly too much for her to process.
“Just stay close to me. We’ll sort this out when we get somewhere safe.” King knew of only one group that used Metal Storm pistols. And if that was who wanted Felice dead, that was all the reason King needed to protect her.
As they moved toward the edge of the throng, King dug out his Chess Team phone. He was just about to make a call when a young Ethiopian man stepped in front of him
“You look like you need some help,” he said in perfect, albeit slightly accented English.
King regarded the newcomer with suspicion, and when he put the phone back in his bag, his hand found the grip of the MP5, which he had stashed just before leaving the stairwell. “Thanks friend, but I think we can manage.”
The Ethiopian smiled, but edged closer and lowered his voice to a surreptitious whisper. “I saw what happened. I know they came for her. I can help you.”
King shook his head. “If you know that, then you know why I’m not exactly eager to trust you.”
“You should.” The young man turned to Felice. “You know me, don’t you?”
Felice looked at him then raised her eyes to King, showing no hint of recognition.
