The Atlantis Plague Part 16

David nodded and followed Kamau into the command center. It exceeded David's wildest expectations. It had eight sides; every other wall was filled with a floor-to-ceiling window that allowed a clear view of each direction of the camp. The other four walls held computer screens that showed maps, charts, and readouts David couldn't begin to understand.

The interior of the room looked like the bridge of the starship Enterprise-from the original series. At the center, two technicians hunched over tables and computer screens. A single chair was set off from them, and the major occupied it, as if he were Captain Kirk directing a voyage to nowhere. "Deploy batteries four and five. Fire at will." He spun around to David.

"You knew about this."

"I didn't. I don't even know what this is."

A technician spoke up. "The planes have dropped their payload."

The major eyed David.

Out the side window, guns along the north wall rotated quickly and fired into the night.

The shots seemed to instantly connect, exploding in a cascade of midair explosions. The remains of the attack planes rained down into the water below.

"Seven targets, seven kills," another technician said.

David marveled at the air defenses. He wasn't well versed on surface-to-air defense systems, but what he had just seen was more advanced than anything he was aware of.

This base wouldn't be taken from the air.

The tech that had fired the barrage of missiles punched his keyboard a few times and shook his head. "Radar's clear. It was just one group."

The major stood up and walked to the window. "I saw only seven explosions. Why didn't anything hit us? Did the missiles miss?"

"They fell short, sir."

Out the western window, a plume of water and light rose up.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?!" Rukin demanded.

The techs worked their computers. Another man stood up and pointed to one of the screens. "I don't think we were the target, sir. I think they deployed mines in the straits. A piece of one of the planes. .h.i.t one of the mines as it sank, I a.s.sume."

The major stood there for a moment, staring at the water, at the point where the plane debris had exploded. "Get me the chairman's fleet. He needs to alter course."

David and Kamau exited the command center, and David got an aerial view of the pens he had heard on his way in. They were filled with people, huddled together, packed in. There must have been two or three thousand of them. Barbarians waiting for the boatman, Rukin had said. Who could do this? David wondered.

On the way back to the residential wing, Kamau and David walked in silence. At David's room, he motioned for Kamau to stay. "What was that?"

"An RAF squadron. We haven't seen one in months. They tried to take the base shortly after the outbreak, before the Immari burned the city and got their air defenses in place. We thought the British were out of jet fuel."

"Why did they drop the mines?"

"Dorian Sloane is on his way here. He's leading the main Immari fleet north. They're going to invade Europe. I a.s.sume the British have mined the straits to cut him off from the Mediterranean."

"How far out is Sloane?"

"The main fleet is days away. I just read a memo that said Sloane flew up the coast and is leading a smaller, advance fleet. He's after something. He could be here as soon as tonight."

David nodded. Sloane. Here. Taking Ceuta before he arrived could save even more lives than David imagined-if he could kill or capture Sloane. And he had just seen the key to doing it. "What are those guns?"

"Rail guns," Kamau said.

"Impossible."

"They were a cla.s.sified Immari Research weapons program."

David knew the US Military had experimented with rail gun technology, but rail guns weren't in active use. The principle problem was power. Rail guns used ma.s.sive amounts of electricity to propel a projectile at hypersonic speeds-over sixty-two hundred kilometers per hour. "How do they get the power?"

"They have a special solar array, several mirror complexes near the harbor."

"Range?"

"I'm not sure. I know that during the invasion of southern Spain they fired on targets in Marbella and even Mlaga-over a hundred kilometers away."

Incredible. The guns at Ceuta could likely destroy any fleet that approached, possibly even the entire Immari army in southern Spain. Could they use them to- Kamau seemed to read his mind. "Even if we took the control tower, the guns cannot be pointed inside the base."

David nodded. "Who are the horse raiders?"

"Plague survivors. Berbers. With the collapse of civilization, they have gone back to their cultural roots. Other than that, our intel is limited."

"How many are there?"

"Unknown."

David tried to a.s.semble a plan. "Rukin. What's he like?"

"Cruel. Competent."

"Vices?"

"Only smoking and... women."

David pulled off the tunic of his Immari uniform. The mention of women reminded David of the girl that had come to his room. Instantly his mind replaced her with a mental image of Kate. He tried to push it away, but he had to know... It was a risk, but David asked the question he had wanted to since the second he had arrived in Ceuta. "Have you seen any reports about someone named Kate Warner?"

"About a thousand. She is the most wanted person in the world."

A current of fear went through David. He hadn't expected that. "Wanted by whom?"

"Everyone. The Immari, the Orchid Alliance."

"Suspected whereabouts?"

"The Immari doesn't know. Or at least, we haven't been briefed."

David nodded. She might still be alive. He hoped she was in hiding somewhere far away, out of reach of the Immari. Even if he went looking for her, he would likely never find her. And he had a job to do here. "Okay, I want you to get me some civilian clothes. And the best horse you can find."

CHAPTER 40.

Plague Barge Destiny

Mediterranean Sea

The captain turned to the two men. "We're clear. You can begin. And see if Dr. Chang and Dr. Ja.n.u.s have any bodies to dispose of."

The older of the two men nodded and they left the ship's bridge.

Below deck, they began strapping on the suits they wore each time.

"You ever think about what we're doing?" the younger man asked.

"I try not to."

"You think it's wrong?"

The older man glanced up at him.

"They're people, they're just sick."

"Are they? Are you a scientist? I'm not. Janitors don't get paid to think."

"Yes, but-"

"Don't do that. Don't overthink this thing. You've got my back out there. My life is in your hands. You overthink what we're doing and you could get us both killed. And most importantly, you could get me killed. If the freaks on the deck don't get us, the lunatics in the control room will. We've got one chance here: we do our job. So shut up and suit up."

The younger man looked away, then resumed attaching tape to his suit, occasionally glancing at the older man.

"What did you do before the plague?"

"I didn't do anything," the older man said.

"Unemployed? Me too. Pretty much like everybody else my age in Spain. But, you know I had just gotten some work as a subst.i.tute teacher-"

"I was in prison."

The young man paused, then asked, "What for?"

"I was in the type of prison where you don't ask what you're in for. And you don't make friends. It's a lot like this place. Look kid, I'm going to make it really simple for you: the world is over. The only mystery that matters is who's gonna survive. There are two groups left. The people with the flamethrowers and the people catching the flames. You're holding a flamethrower right now. So shut up and be happy. And don't make friends. You never know who you're gonna have to burn in this world."

At that moment the door opened, and the scientist whom the crew called Dr. Doolittle-whose actual name was Dr. Ja.n.u.s-stepped into the small room. His face was blank and he made no eye contact with either man. Two lab a.s.sistants pushed carts with body bags in and left just as quickly.

"That all of 'em?" the larger man asked.

"For now," the doctor said mildly to no one in particular. He turned to leave, but the younger man spoke up just as the scientist reached the door's threshold.

"Any progress?"

Dr. Ja.n.u.s paused a moment, then said, "That depends... on your definition of progress." He stepped out.

The younger man turned to the older man. "You think-"

"I swear, you even say the word 'think' again, and I'll torch you myself. Now come on."

They donned their helmets, marched up the stairs, and opened the doors to the stalls that held the devolving and the survivors who refused to pledge. A few seconds later, the first people began falling into the sea.

CHAPTER 41.

Immari Sorting Camp

Marbella, Spain

Kate stared out the sixth-floor window at the resort grounds below. She and the other survivors were housed in the tower closest to the sea. The soldiers had taken the middle tower for themselves, and the far tower, farthest inland and close to the gate, was filled to the breaking point with the dead and dying. Martin was in there. Kate wondered which group he was in: dead or dying? Kate stared at the tower, at the four guards that loitered at the entrance, smoking, talking, laughing, and reading magazines.

It was all she could do to wait, but she had to. She had to bide her time until the moment came. She would get one shot at getting him out.

She turned back and sat on her bed. Across the room, her roommate lay in bed, reading an old book. "What are you reading?" Kate asked.