Page 19 of The Echelon (Spy Girl 7)
“Do you know how to do it?” the serviceman asks me.
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Can I ask how?” he says.
“Video games,” I offer with a shrug, not even sure why I’m trying to maintain my cover at this point.
He narrows his eyes at me but doesn’t comment further. I’m assuming there’s a lot that goes on that these guys can’t talk about. And I doubt they will say a word.
“Put these on, too,” he says, handing me safety glasses. “The rotor downwash can send flying debris that you don’t want to get in your eyes.”
“Roger that,” I reply with a grin.
He studies my low-cut white blouse and then rolls his eyes at me. “Your blouse is already ruined with blood and sand. I don’t think the ride down will do it much worse. And at least, it has long sleeves.”
Once I’m prepped, the men start working on the trunk, putting it into a suspension sling that will allow them to lower the cargo onto the roof.
I spot the harbor and then the casino.
The capital city of the country I fell in love with.
The place I fell in love.
Off in the distance, I can see my father’s CitySphere rising into the air, the sunlight playing off the marble and looking like a white beacon of hope.
The palace comes into view next, and tears fill my eyes when I see the turret.
Our turret.
I feel like I’m coming home.
I think about the story Lorenzo told me. About sailors returning from sea. About the women they loved waiting for them.
And I can’t help but wish things were different and that he were waiting for me.
I hear his voice in my head, reciting the poem he wrote in my honor. The necklace engraved with the words of love I dropped into his lap just under twenty-four hours ago even though it feels like a lifetime ago.
Glimmering waters beckon,
Cliffs come into view.
The ocean kisses the shoreline,
As I dream of you.
I’m wiping away tears when I spot the hospital.
I say a quick prayer that the people I love haven’t succumbed to the disease yet, put the glasses over my eyes, and slide gloves on my hands.
“Thirty seconds until drop,” a serviceman says as the helicopter moves into position over the roof.
“We’ll send you and the trunk down first,” the operator tells me. “The two of us will follow. Keep your feet around the rope and your toes pointed.”
I smile at him as the other soldier says, “Deploying the rope,” and then he throws out the thick, multistrand military-green-colored rope.
I sit on the edge of the open side of the helicopter. I grab the rope, stand up on the rail, tightly place my feet on each side of the rope, and then slide down it to the roof.
The trunk hits the surface just after I do, and the two soldiers follow.
In a few moments, the ropes are pulled back into the helicopter, and it continues on its journey out to the sea. Where Sophie will share her father’s story with the world, and they will hopefully act upon the information.
T-MINUS:00:03:19
I open the trunk, grab the things I need immediately off the top, and race down the stairs, yelling at the servicemen to follow me with it.
There’s a buzz in the hospital that’s palpable. People are excited to receive their shots.
If they only knew.
I see nurses counting out prefilled syringes at their stations, readying them for each room.
Mike Burnes is pacing the hall of the royal wing, basically in the same location where I left him.
“Huntley,” he says. “Where have you been? We need to talk.”
“Yeah, we do. But not about my mother. What I want to know is if even one patient has died who wasn’t at the opening ceremonies?”
“Um, I don’t know. I don’t think that’s been discussed.”
“Well, it should be. Because I’d bet you money that there hasn’t been. It’s not the cause, Mr. Burnes. It’s the cure. The vaccine, if given, will wipe out over ninety percent of the population. And, in case you don’t believe me,” I say, handing him a single sheet of paper, “here’s all the proof you need. The man PureGen framed wasn’t who discovered this. That man was Dr. Nelson Andersen. He was recently assassinated, too, but not before leaving proof hidden away for his daughter, Sophie. She was scared and on the run. We teamed up and, using the clues her father had left her, found this. She’s currently aboard a Black Hawk out of Morón Air Base and on her way to a carrier in the Strait. We had to get her somewhere she could communicate with the world since Montrovia has been cut off. She will share more detailed documents to stop the giving of the vaccine.”
Mike Burnes takes a moment to read the note, and then he studies me. “Are you really Calliope Cassleberry? Charlotte’s daughter?”
“That she is,” my father says, shocking me by stepping into the hallway, not wearing his Uncle Sam disguise.
“Ares, you’re alive?” Mike Burnes says, shocked.
“Yes, I am,” Ares replies.
“Me, too,” Blake says, coming around the corner.
“And me three,” my grandfather adds.
“What is going on here?” Mike asks. “What are you all trying to pull?”
“We’re trying to save the world from The Echelon,” I reply.
Royston Bessemer steps forward with them as well and says, “Mike, everything she’s telling you is true. I was recruited to join this group just weeks ago. I wasn’t told their whole plan and was hoping to figure it out with Huntley because they spoke of her father’s plan for Arcadia. The perfect world.” He flashes the green ring to Ares.
I slip the one from my finger and hand it to my father. “This was Marquis Dupree’s, the man who stole the nuclear backpack bombs.”
The servicemen catch up to me and set the trunk at my feet.
“Is that what I think it is?” Ares asks me.
“Yes. I’ll leave you to explain the rest.”
T-MINUS:00:02:14
I take a deep breath outside the hospital room where Ari, Allie, Daniel, and Lizzie were being cared for. Bella Smith died four hours after developing the rash. Amanda Spear made it six. It’s been over eighteen hours since Lorenzo took the vaccine and Allie first showed signs of the rash, fourteen for my brother, thirteen for the president, and eight for Daniel. I brace myself knowing that I probably didn’t make it back in time to save them. That pregnant Lizzie might be the only one left.
But when I step into the room, I find it looking much the same as when I left. Ari and Allie’s faces are covered with a lacy red rash, but no one else’s has spread that far. There’s an extra bed in the large private suite. One for President Ryan Spear.
Lorenzo is still by Lizzie’s side, holding her hand. Daniel is on the other side, doing the same. All three seem deep in thought.
Lorenzo jumps to attention first. “Huntley.”
“Has anyone taken the vaccine yet—besides Lorenzo?” I say to the room.
Everyone shakes their heads.
“No one but me,” Lorenzo replies, “but we were just discussing the pros and cons of giving it to Lizzie. I am for it since I am feeling exactly how I was told I’d feel. A little run-down but none of the symptoms Lizzie and the others have. I’ve mobilized the troops. The vaccines will be given door-to-door, starting at the top of the hour.”
“Has anyone checked your blood?” I inquire.
“Yes,” he says.
“And let me guess. Your white cells are slightly elevated, which they probably wrote off as the stress of the ordeal or because of the fact that you took the vaccine.”
He squints at me. “That is correct.”
“What y
ou don’t know is that your white cell count will continue to rise as they reproduce. It’s sort of like the hormones a woman’s body creates when she’s pregnant, causing the cells to duplicate each other, rising to create a new life. Only the cells in you are replicating to do the exact opposite. They are working to end your life. Tomorrow, the count will be double. The next day, that will double. In five days’ time, it will have risen exponentially—so high that it will starve your internal organs of red blood cells, which will then shut down completely—and within forty-eight hours, you will be dead.”
Lorenzo opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so I keep going, “If the vaccines are given, the majority of the world will drop dead in a total of nine days due to a massive stroke or heart attack. The good news is, for the most part, their deaths will be painless.”
“But I feel okay,” Lorenzo says, hanging his head.
“Yeah, that’s because inside the poisonous vaccine is a cocktail combining steroids with vitamin B. Anyone currently sick who wasn’t at the opening ceremonies will get better on their own in time. Their viruses and rashes will go away. Their respiratory problems will clear. It just doesn’t react to antibiotics that we’ve been trying to use. Inside the vaccine is the same poison that was in the fireworks, and it also happens to be the same thing that killed your father, although the version they gave him was weaker than it should have been, which is why it didn’t work as fast.”
Lorenzo buries his head in his palms, like he’s finally understanding his fate. He takes a deep breath and then looks up and into my eyes, a dying man needing to confess.
“You should know then that Lizzie and I never slept together. We never even kissed.”
Lizzie nods. “The baby is Daniel’s. We just couldn’t say that with the nurse in the room. You told us how important it was to keep up appearances until after the Olympics. We didn’t mean to upset you.”
“And I would never break the promises in the wedding vows I spoke to you,” Lorenzo adds.
“Wedding vows?” everyone in the room asks.
