Page 52 of Wild Tempest

I shouted to JD, "They’re gonna blow the door!”

We pulled back just in time.

KABOOM!

The door blasted from its hinges. They'd lined it with RDX or some kind of plastic explosive. Haze filled the air. They tossed in flash-bang grenades. They bounced and clattered against the deck.

JD and I knew the drill. We both hovered around the corner on either side of the ship in passageways that led aft. I closed my eyes and plugged my ears.

POP!

POP!

Through the haze, I angled my rifle around the corner and opened fire at the doorway.

Jack did the same.

The deafening clatter of gunfire filled the corridors.

The goons didn’t even get a shot off when they stepped out of the ladderwell.

When the haze cleared, two goons lay on the deck. Smoke and the tangy scent of gunfire lingered.

JD and I approached the goons, kicked their weapons away, and made sure they were dead. They carried the KS Prizrak. It was a short-barreled rifle with an integrated suppressor, chambered in 9mm subsonic rounds. Perfect for close-quarter combat. A popular weapon with Spetsnaz and Russian mercenaries. These were likely the latter.

They didn't have any ID or insignia. But they did have something surprising. We searched the scumbags. Each had a thin metal case that contained a syringe, swabs, and a vial of the serum. They knew exactly what kind of horrors they might encounter on this ship and were prepared.

We collected the serum kits, then JD and I stepped into the ladderwell and plunged below. With rifles shouldered, we cleared Level 01, then the main deck.

I was pretty sure we had eliminated the threat, but in an abundance of caution, we cleared the entire ship.

On the aft deck, we approached the helicopter with caution. On its side, wisps of smoke still drifted from the turbine. I climbed onto the helicopter and angled my rifle through the cargo door.

The occupants were all dead.

Crimson stained the flight deck, splattering the bulkheads.

I crawled into the fuselage and searched the craft. It didn't take me long to find an emergency life raft. It was our ticket off the boat.

In the cockpit, I tried to get on the radio, but it had shorted out. The antenna had been severed when the craft lost the tail boom. So much for making a call for help.

I collected a few more anti-viral kits from the crew. Then left the wreckage and hustled back up to Level 02. We searched the other goons and collected more of the serum kits, then returned to the staterooms.

I banged on the hatch to the Engineer’s Stateroom. "It's me. You can open up now. It's safe.”

Tempest unlocked the hatch and pulled open the door with caution. Her relieved eyes found me, and she gave me a tight hug.

That was about the time Jack passed out and hit the deck. He’d sucked it up to get through the firefight. Now that it was over, and the rush of adrenaline gone, he was spent.

Drenched in sweat and with a fever easily of 103, Jack was in bad shape.

"Jack! Wake up," I said, kneeling beside him.

I lifted his eyelids and shined my flashlight. His pupils were narrow and unresponsive.

He had all the symptoms of infection and was having respiratory distress. His breathing was labored and shallow. Jack had muscled through it this far. It had been over 24 hours since the initial onset. He’d fought the virus better than most. Now I was worried we might lose him to the dark side of aggression and psychosis.

To compound matters, I felt a bit feverish as well.