“With what?” Sammy asked. “I could maybe come up with a computer virus that scrambles their signals or something, but that’ll still take days and will only work on those physical computers attached to their network.”
“We’re not talking about computer work anymore,” Kate said. “A mentor once told me that to destroy a monster, I would have to create one. And we’re going to do that again.”
“You want to develop a new bioweapon?” Ron said, bottom lip shaking.
“Not exactly,” Kate said. “The development work has already been done for us. We still have the concentrated weaponized anthrax from that grenade, right?”
“Yes,” Leslie said. “More than enough to kill a quarter of the outpost here if we released it.”
“Good. We can move our operations safely back to Galveston, and culture more of the anthrax bacteria.”
“More? We’re talking about a weaponized pathogen! You want to use it against the New Gods?” Leslie asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s insane,” Ron said. “If we deployed it and the wind blows wrong, it could infect our people. I know it’s not contagious, it won’t spread once it infects people, but it will still kill so many.”
“We won’t be aerosolizing it,” Kate said. “I want to grow as much as we can in the next two days. The anthracis bacteria that causes anthrax is extremely easy to culture and divides rapidly. It won’t take long. Then I want to aliquot boluses of the bacteria into syringes.”
“Inject the anthrax?” Ron asked.
“I get it,” Sammy said. “Instead of a digital computer virus, we’re going to use a biological one.”
“You got it,” Kate said. “Only it’s not a virus. It’s a bacterium. We can selectively inject it into various webbing network sites our scouts and other outposts have uncovered. Those vines will die off as the bacteria spreads, and even better, they’ll actually serve as living bioreactors for the anthrax bacteria, allowing the bacteria to spread up and down the network, slowly killing every connected piece of webbing.”
“It’s like we’re setting an unstoppable forest fire,” Leslie said.
“And if we spread out the injections, we can avoid any dead ends and ensure they can’t prevent its spread before it’s too late for them,” Kate said.
“Why not just bomb the network or physically burn it for that matter?” Ron asked.
“We have no idea how widespread the network really is,” Kate said. “And we already know bombing is ineffective from the tactical nuclear weapons we previously deployed. While the tunnels help conceal the webbing network from the air, they don’t do anything to shield them from microscopic bacteria traveling through the cells inside the webbing. Any other questions?”
Sammy raised her hand. “Are you going to teach me to help culture the bacteria, too? I need to do something helpful.”
“You got it,” Kate said.
“By infecting the network, don’t we also risk killing off everything attached to it, including every human and animal prisoner.”
“I’m afraid this is the only way,” Kate said. “Whether we win or lose the battle for Galveston, the bacteria will keep fighting, routing out any surviving masterminds, beasts or hives attached to the webbing.”
Kate stared at the tunnel, picturing the bacteria spreading like a wildfire with grim satisfaction. “It will be our last gift to the New Gods.”
***
Fitz basked in the warm sun at Seawolf Park on Pelican Island, an island situated across the water at the northern edge of Galveston. The USS Seawolf, a submarine from World War II, along with a destroyer escort, the USS Stewart were drydocked there. Both had served as an open-air museum before the Great War of Extinction.
Today the site had transformed to allow for a memorial service for all the lives lost in the battle for Las Vegas. Men and women in uniform lined up, facing President Ringgold at a podium.
As the wind whipped at her hair and pantsuit, soldiers stood around a few caskets sitting in a series of small wooden rowboats in the grass near Ringgold. Each casket had an Allied States flag draped over it.
“Today we say goodbye to those who made the ultimate sacrifice,” Ringgold said. “Today we carry their memories and spirits into the crucial days ahead. Know that they are watching over us and fighting beside us, as determined as any of us to preserve the freedoms we have so valiantly fought for.”
President Ringgold saluted when the soldiers positioned near the small boats moved them toward the concrete pier surrounding the park. Another group of soldiers removed the flags from the caskets and began folding them.
Fitz watched in reverence as they finished folding the flags, retreating as others placed the boats with their casket cargo into the Gulf, setting each on fire, then pushing them to sea.
A bugler played “Taps” as the boats drifted out in flames. What remained of the caskets and the few bodies they had brought back from Vegas would find their final resting place at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.
He felt tears forming over his eyes as he maintained his salute. He sensed the same despair in Rico and Dohi who were next to him. How many times had they stood side by side to say goodbye to their brothers and sisters?
They were all that remained of Team Ghost. He regretted that they had not even been able to bring Ace back to give the man the burial he deserved. The older man should not have even had to fight this war. He had been past retirement age for a special ops group like Ghost, but Ace had never shied from a fight or the calling to protect the country and people he loved.
The bugler finished, and Fitz let out a sigh. Most of the people who had come to pay their respects dispersed.
President Ringgold lingered for a moment, watching the fingers of smoke streaming away from the boats before following her cadre of Secret Service agents to a Jeep. It drove away, accelerating back to the EOC to continue planning the outposts’ defenses.
Fitz, Rico,
