V Plague (Book 13): Exodus

  EXODUS

  V Plague Book Thirteen

  DIRK PATTON

  Text Copyright © 2017 by Dirk Patton

  Copyright © 2017 by Dirk Patton

  All Rights Reserved

  This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright holder or publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a critical book review.

  Published by Voodoo Dog Publishing, LLC

  2824 N Power Road

  Suite #113-256

  Mesa, AZ 85215

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2017

  ISBN-13: 978-1541138940

  ISBN-10: 1541138945

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, brands, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Also by Dirk Patton

  Author’s Note

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  Also by Dirk Patton

  The V Plague Series

  Unleashed: V Plague Book 1

  Crucifixion: V Plague Book 2

  Rolling Thunder: V Plague Book 3

  Red Hammer: V Plague Book 4

  Transmission: V Plague Book 5

  Rules Of Engagement: A John Chase Short Story

  Days Of Perdition: V Plague Book 6

  Indestructible: V Plague Book 7

  Recovery: V Plague Book 8

  Precipice: V Plague Book 9

  Anvil: V Plague Book 10

  Merciless: V Plague Book 11

  Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12

  Hunter’s Rain: A John Chase Novella

  Exodus: V Plague Book 13

  Other Titles

  36: A Novel

  The Void: A 36 Novel

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for purchasing Exodus, Book 13 in the V Plague series. If you haven’t read the first twelve books, you need to stop reading now and pick them up, otherwise you will be utterly lost as this book is intended to continue the story in a serialized format. I intentionally did nothing to explain comments and events that reference books 1 through 12. Regardless, you have my heartfelt thanks for reading my work, and I hope you’re enjoying the adventure as much as I am. As always, a good review on Amazon is greatly appreciated.

  I get frequent emails from people who haven’t served and are confused by the different military ranks used in my books. Don’t blame me, blame the Navy. They just had to be different! To all you squids out there, I’m only kidding. But, to try and help the readers who are a little lost, here’s the basics of what you need to know. I won’t even try to touch enlisted ranks as each service has their own naming convention, and the confusion is mainly coming with the officer ranks.

  In the Army, Marine Corps and Air Force, officer ranks are consistent. A Captain is a Captain, a Major is a Major, and so on. But, in the Navy, a Captain is equivalent to a Colonel in the other services. A Commander is a Lieutenant Colonel, a Lieutenant Commander is a Major, a Lieutenant is a Captain, a Lieutenant JG is a First Lieutenant and an Ensign is a Second Lieutenant. So, when reading about a character who holds rank in the military, it is important to know what service they are in.

  Let’s compare two of the characters you will recognize, Marine Captain Black (Admiral Packard’s head of security) and Navy Captain West (Admiral Packard’s senior aide). Captain Black is very junior in rank to Captain West. If they were both in the Marines, it would be a Captain compared to a Colonel. If in the Navy, a Lieutenant compared to a Captain. Got it?

  Also, the Captain of a ship in the Navy does not necessarily have that rank, and typically won’t, though there are notable exceptions such as an aircraft carrier. An officer in command of a ship or submarine may well only have the rank of Commander, but is referred to as Captain when aboard that vessel. Clear as mud? If you want to know more, well… there’s this wonderful thing called Google. Or find a friendly sailor and buy them a drink in exchange for an education.

  You can always correspond with me via email at dirk@dirkpatton.com and find me on the internet at www.dirkpatton.com and follow me on Twitter @DirkPatton and if you’re on Facebook, please like my page at www.facebook.com/FearThePlague .

  Thanks again for reading!

  Dirk Patton

  2017

  Life it seems, will fade away

  Drifting further every day

  Getting lost within myself

  Nothing matters no one else

  I have lost the will to live

  Simply nothing more to give

  There is nothing more for me

  Need the end to set me free

  Things are not what they used to be

  Missing one inside of me

  Metallica – Fade To Black

  1

  Retired Brigadier General Anna Thompson wanted to see the sun. To feel something other than cold, smooth concrete beneath her feet. But most of all, she wanted the caress of a breeze on her skin. Of everything about living beneath the Nevada desert, that’s what she missed the most. To be able to take a deep breath that didn’t have the metallic taste of the atmosphere scrubbers. But, it wasn’t time yet.

  With a sigh, she climbed out of bed and padded into a cramped bathroom. Relieving herself, she pulled the nightgown over her head then whipped her long hair into a tight bun before stepping into a narrow shower stall. Quickly washing her body, she closed the valve well before it would have begun beeping a thirty second countdown to shut off.

  Water was a precious commodity, not to be wasted, despite the facility having its own well in addition to a state of the art reclamation plant. Once, in the first few days of her being in residence, she’d washed her hair and made the mistake of not having thoroughly rinsed it clean of shampoo before the system shut down her shower. It had taken over half of her daily allotment of drinking water to finish the job. She hadn’t been happy, but the rules were the rules, and she wasn’t one to violate them for her own comfort.

  Toweling off, she stepped in front of the vanity mirror and shook her thick hair loose. It tumbled down her back, framing a face that could have graced glossy fashion magazines when she was younger. Not that she was old, she reminded herself, but once a woman reaches a certain age…

  With a derisive snort, she stepped back for a better inspection of her nude body in the mirror and was happy with what she saw. Forty might be behind her, but everything was still smooth and firm. Well, maybe not quite as smooth and firm as when she’d been a cadet at West Point, but even under her criti
cal eye, she knew she could still turn the head of any man she wanted.

  That thought creased her face with a frown of sorrow and pain. She didn’t want to turn the head of any man. She wanted her husband. Wanted to see his face, hear his voice, feel his strong arms around her body. Just one more time. But, that would never happen. He had failed to arrive after the attacks that had devastated the United States.

  Anna had been raised an Army brat. Her father was a Chief Warrant Officer that flew combat helicopters. Growing up during the Cold War, she and her mother had followed as the military rotated him through seemingly every posting on the planet. Born in Germany, in a US Air Force hospital, she had been twelve before ever setting foot in America.

  The Soviet Union eventually fell, and without the threat of Russian armor pouring into Western Europe, the US military began downsizing. No longer needing massive fleets of attack helicopters, and the pilots to fly them, her father retired and moved his small family to Alabama. Having read the writing on the wall, he knew that America would continue to need the unique capabilities of combat helicopters, despite what the politicians were saying to the public.

  A year after retiring, he had founded an aviation consulting company and soon had the US Army as his biggest client. He did well, his business growing by leaps and bounds as Washington realized the drawdown of forces had been too severe. In the Army, he had been a faceless pilot, but now he was rubbing elbows with Generals on a regular basis. It was these contacts that had paved the way for Anna to be accepted into the US Military Academy in West Point, New York.

  Not that she wasn’t more than qualified. Athletically and academically, she’d been an over achiever since she began elementary school. She was driven and had rarely failed to accomplish any goal she set for herself. While her resume more than qualified her for admittance to the Academy, often it mattered more who one knew. And her father’s contacts opened the door for her.

  Graduating near the top of her class, she began her Army career in the Quartermaster Corps. She would have preferred to be almost anything other than what she referred to in private as a shopkeeper, but opportunities for female officers were limited. Working hard, she advanced, and through sheer persistence, eventually wound up with the infantry. Not leading fighting men, but taking charge of the logistics and materiel command for first a division, then for the entire First Army.

  As much of her job involved ensuring that all the soldiers in the First Army were properly equipped, she followed her command structure to Iraq. It was there that she’d met Sean, her future husband. A retired Army Ranger Colonel, he was working for a private military contractor (PMC).

  It was love at first sight for Anna. He was everything she’d ever thought a man should be, but had so rarely found. In short, he was perfect. At least for her. She’d made sure to catch his eye, and after a brief, yet intense, romance, they married. Happier than she’d ever been, Anna was preparing to leave for her honeymoon when word came that her father had passed away of a sudden heart attack.

  Sean flew to Alabama with her for support as she dealt with the small army of lawyers who were responsible for the disposition of her father’s business. Her mother had passed several years earlier, and she was the sole heir to the company, which had never been taken public. She now owned one hundred percent of an aviation consulting firm, and had little idea what it really did.

  Sitting down with the legal team, she was shocked to learn that the business employed well over one hundred people and had annual revenues in excess of six hundred million dollars. Her father had always been very close-mouthed about his company, even though they were close and talked often. Whenever she asked how work was going, he’d offer up a generic answer that was more of a non-answer, then turn the subject back to her career.

  Taking boxes of files with them after the first meeting, Sean and Anna retreated to her father’s sprawling estate. While she wandered around, looking at photos and memorabilia that were spread throughout the home, Sean began digging through the papers. Needing time to process her loss, she wound up on the porch with a mug of coffee. That’s where Sean found her, several thick files in hand. Sitting down next to his wife, he began flipping through them as he told her what he’d discovered.

  The US Army wasn’t Thompson Aviation Consulting’s only client. There was also a fat contract with the CIA. Well, not that it said Central Intelligence Agency in plain English, but he recognized the shell company that had been used by the government. There was no doubt about who was really paying the bills.

  And it could only be called a consulting contract if one closed his eyes and let his imagination run wild. Attack aircraft were being flown on behalf of the Agency. In addition to helicopters, Anna’s father had been providing military trained, retired combat pilots. He was cashing in on the explosion of PMCs who were being paid to fill roles which the US Government couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

  They spent several days becoming familiar with all the company’s contracts. Had meeting after meeting with the lawyers. Talked to all the senior executives who were handling the day to day operations in the absence of her father. And they spent even more time trying to figure out what to do.

  Five days after they arrived in Alabama, they received an unexpected visitor. A man who identified himself as a contractor liaison for the US Government showed up at the door, asking to speak with them. While Sean entertained their guest, Anna made several calls to verify he was who he said he was.

  The company lawyers knew of him by name but had never met him face to face. Apparently, all in-person negotiations had occurred solely with her father. Not one to accept the easy answer, Anna began working her contacts within the Army. It took some effort, and finding the right person, but she eventually received confirmation that the man sitting with her husband was a high-level CIA officer.

  Joining them after she finished the calls, she wasn’t surprised to hear the two men discussing a military operation in Somalia from several years ago. From a time when Sean was still on active duty with the Army. Their conversation ended when she walked in, and never one to mince words, she told the man she knew who he worked for and bluntly asked why he was sitting in their living room.

  The man smiled and nodded, having fully expected to be vetted. Deferring to his hostess’s request, he had dropped any pretense for his visit and gotten to the meat of the issue. Thompson Aviation was an integral part of several extremely sensitive agency operations around the globe, and there was concern that with the passing of her father, those same operations could be at risk. He was there to ensure that, despite the transition in ownership, it would be business as usual.

  He spoke for several minutes, initially appealing to their patriotism and sense of duty. Neither were impressed, nor were they offended. This was just how things worked with the government. Anna had cut him off before he could complete his spiel. She had no intention of resigning her commission in the Army to run a company that had become a CIA front. A company with which she’d never been involved.

  She also argued that she knew nothing about running combat operations. The man had nodded and smiled before looking pointedly at Sean. It had taken Anna a moment to grasp his meaning, then she quickly ended the meeting and sent their guest on his way.

  They stayed up late that night, talking about their options. Despite being married to a man who earned his paycheck from a PMC, Anna had reservations about the whole idea of what she thought of as mercenaries operating at the behest of the US Government. She was afraid to utter that word to Sean. Didn’t know how he would take it.

  Falling asleep, she could feel some distance between them that hadn’t been there. Sean had made it clear that he would be happy to take over the company if she wasn’t interested. Told her he was ready to leave the fighting in the field to younger men. She didn’t like the idea of being half a world apart, even though she would much rather have him sitting in a board room in Alabama than operating in a combat zone in Iraq or Afghanistan.
>
  Early the next morning her Army issue cell phone rang. It was Lieutenant General Olber, Commander of the First Army. Jumping out of bed, Anna ran into an adjacent bedroom, heart in her throat. Three star Generals didn’t call Lieutenant Colonels. Not unless something was seriously wrong.

  General Olber’s voice was tight, and he was obviously unhappy. Due to budget constraints, certain commands were being consolidated in a cost savings measure. As a result, the Army was no longer in need of Anna’s service. Paperwork to initiate her immediate retirement was being messengered to Alabama and her personal possessions that were in Iraq had already been boxed and placed in transit to her.

  2

  General Olber had ended the call quickly, not even affording her the opportunity to ask any questions. In shock, and trying to control her anger, Anna had called everyone within her chain of command. None of her former superiors would take her call. In frustration, she’d flung the phone across the room, nearly striking Sean in the face as he walked through the door.

  “What happened?” He asked, keeping his distance from the enraged woman.

  “The Army just fired me!”

  She began pacing, and he quickly snatched the damaged phone off the carpet before she could pick it up and throw it again.

  “What? They can’t just fire you without cause. It doesn’t work that way!”

  “I know that, Sean,” she shouted. “It’s forced retirement. The goddamn paperwork is already on the way!”

  He stood there for a beat, looking at her and thinking.

  “Fucking Christians In Action,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

  “What?” She cried, whirling on him with fire in her eyes. “You think the CIA did this? That asshole from last night?”

  Sean shrugged.

  “That would be my guess. Twelve hours after the fucker was sitting here smiling at us, this happens? Did your CO give a reason?”