Fractured: V Plague Book 15 Read online

  Fractured

  V Plague Book Fifteen

  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: 978-1548026356

  ISBN-10: 1548026352

  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

  Prologue

  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

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  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

  Scourge: V Plague Book 14

  Fractured: V Plague Book 15

  Other Titles

  36: A Novel

  The Void: A 36 Novel

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for purchasing Fractured, Book 15 in the V Plague series. If you haven’t read the first fourteen 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 14. 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.

  You can always correspond with me via email at [email protected] 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

  Rocks are gonna roll uphill

  And the sun will dive in the sea

  There'll be power in the blood

  When the helicopters come

  The dead are gonna wake and sing

  And roll their bones in the grass

  There'll be power in the blood

  When That Helicopter Comes – Andrew Bird

  Prologue

  Lucas was looking to our left, making sure the two soldiers hadn’t heard the soft jingle of the fence as we crossed. I scanned right, something catching my attention. A man was standing behind a sedan parked on the side of a narrow road. He was bringing a rifle around to target us and I’d caught a brief glint from a streetlight reflecting off the scope’s glass.

  There was no time to shout a warning and I threw myself at Rachel and Lucas who were only a few feet apart. As we tumbled to the ground, there was a faint report from the direction of our attacker, telling me he was using a suppressed weapon. I heard and felt the shockwave of a heavy bullet pass just above my back.

  “Shooter!” I screamed, twisting around to face the threat.

  I didn’t take time to aim. Wasn’t even sure there wasn’t already a bullet on its way toward my head. Instead, I pointed my rifle in the general direction of the sedan, pulled and held the trigger. The M4 was unsuppressed and shockingly loud in the still night. Rachel joined me an instant later and we thoroughly hosed down the car, shattering glass, flattening tires and riddling the sheet metal with bullet holes.

  “Move!”

  I jumped to my feet and ran for the protection of a squat warehouse on the far side of the street. Rachel was at my side, Dog sprinting ahead. We skidded to a stop behind a large delivery van and I looked around for Lucas. He still lay on the ground near the fence, unmoving.

  I tugged on Rachel’s arm to get her moving in the right direction. Along the back edge of a parking lot was a water control channel that disappeared into a culvert that ran beneath a broad thoroughfare. We leapt over the curb and into the concrete ditch, running into the concealing darkness of the duct beneath the road before coming to a stop. Ahead of us, I could see the channel continue on the opposite side of the street.

  “Hear that?”

  Rachel mumbled the question at the same time I began hearing the distant wail of approaching sirens. Soon, they reached a crescendo as three police cars passed directly overhead.

  More cops were coming and I began to hear the beat of a helicopter. Not the heavy pounding of a Black Hawk, but the lighter sound of a smaller helo. The kind that’s used by police departments.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Rachel when I made the only decision I could. “Leave your rifle.”

  “What?” she said, still unmoving.

  “Just do it,” I said, dropping mine and the set of NVGs into the dirt that had been washed into the tunnel. All I kept was a pistol and knife, which weren’t too effective against a sniper. “We can’t conceal them and all they’ll do is draw attention. Now, move!”

  She did as I said and we hurried to the far end, pausing before emerging into the open. Dog stayed at my side as I took a second to stick my head out and scan the area. For the moment, it was clear.

  We reached the edge of the parking lot and transitioned into a residential area that bordered the commercial buildings. The road was narrow, lined with small homes on the far side. None of them had driveways, the owners having to park on the street. Crossing, I turned us left, away from the center of the activity.

  A police car turned out of a side street a block to our front. Its siren was silent, but the roof lights were strobing brilliantly in the night and a ro
of mounted light was being played across the lawns and parked cars. It took the cops about two seconds to spot us.

  “Keep your cool,” I said to Rachel as the vehicle’s engine roared.

  I brought us to a stop, just like law-abiding citizens, and stood holding Rachel’s hand. We were caught in the beam of the cop’s light and it stayed solidly on us as the car screeched to a stop a few yards away. Both front doors opened, but I couldn’t see the officers behind the glare.

  “Please stay where you are!” a voice shouted.

  “What’s wrong officer?” I called.

  “Please keep your hands in sight, sir,” the same voice called.

  A moment later, a dark figure stepped between two cars to our front.

  “What’s your business this evening?” the cop to my front asked.

  “We’re just out walking our dog before going to bed,” I said, trying to sound frightened. “What’s wrong? What did we do?”

  “I need to see some ID, please, sir,” he said. “You and the lady, both.”

  “I didn’t bring my wallet,” I said, turning to Rachel. “Honey, do you have yours?”

  “I left my purse,” Rachel said, releasing my hand and making a helpless gesture.

  The cop was quiet for a moment, probably frustrated that this was taking longer than it should have. We weren’t presenting an image of people who had just been shooting up the city, but he had enough time on the job that something was tickling a warning in his head.

  “Please stay where you are with your hands in sight,” he said after a long pause.

  He disappeared between the cars, returning to his vehicle. While they were talking, the helicopter drew closer and suddenly we were bathed in the blinding light of its spot. Rachel and I both looked up, just like anyone would, but I was taking the opportunity afforded by the large diameter of illumination to scan our surroundings.

  As the helicopter circled in a tight orbit with us pinned at the center of its light, I searched the edge of the commercial office buildings on the far side of the street. At first, all seemed calm, then a flash of movement on the roof of a one-story building drew my attention.

  “Down!” I screamed, pulling Rachel with me as I fell to the sidewalk.

  I heard the crack of a bullet. The cops immediately began yelling for us to stop and I was certain they had their weapons out. Rolling, I shoved Rachel against the side of a vehicle for protection and grabbed Dog, pushing him against her.

  “Sniper behind you!” I screamed at the cops, but they either couldn’t hear over their own shouts, or they didn’t believe me.

  Both moved onto the sidewalk this time, one on either side of us. They had drawn their pistols and aimed them at us, screaming commands as they cautiously approached. I screamed back that there was a shooter across the street, but they ignored me and kept advancing.

  From behind, there was the roar of an engine. Probably more cops coming. Tires screeched in the street and the sergeant glanced at the source of the sound, swiveling his aim in that direction an instant later. He was opening his mouth to shout a warning to his partner when his head suddenly dissolved into a cloud of pink mist.

  Getting to my knees and keeping my head below the level of the car’s windows I was sheltering behind, I drew my pistol and scrambled to the rear bumper. The other cop was aiming his weapon at the street, shouting for someone to drop their gun. I screamed for him to get down an instant before his chest was blown out and he tumbled dead to the ground.

  Taking a fast peek, I saw a compact SUV sitting dark in the middle of the street, two men armed with rifles dashing for the line of cars I was hiding behind. I fired two fast shots and one of them stumbled before I lost sight of him.

  The helicopter was still orbiting, the pilot keeping the light focused directly on us. He had failed to notice the sniper, only concerned with the two cops who had been shot. His light suddenly went dark and a few seconds later there was the sound of broken glass falling to the street. The sniper was engaging the helo.

  “Get in the cop car! RUN!” I shouted to Rachel, keeping my pistol trained on where I expected the two new attackers to appear.

  A head had just popped up over a car, then automatic rifle fire chattered in the night. Bullets tore into the trunk and rear window next to me as I fired two more shots. I don’t know if either found their mark, but the head disappeared.

  Hoping the sniper was otherwise occupied, I stayed low and dashed for the police car. As I moved, the sound of the helicopter changed to a pounding roar, as if it were making sudden maneuvers. I couldn’t tell if it was trying to avoid incoming fire or if it was crippled and about to crash down onto my head.

  More bullets came my way as I ran and returned fire without aiming, simply hoping to keep the shooter’s head down. The car was just ahead, pointed to my left. The closest door, on the driver’s side, stood open. I could see Rachel and Dog inside, waiting.

  Another bullet screamed by. Stutter-stepping, I twisted to return fire and hesitated when the shooter who’d arrived in the SUV suddenly pitched sideways with a shattered skull.

  I started to glance up at the sniper, but had to turn and cover my face when the police helicopter plummeted to the road less than fifty yards away and burst into a ball of flame. Turning, I dove for the open car door, catching a glimpse of the roofline which was brightly lit by the burning aircraft.

  A tall man stood watching me, long rifle in his hands. But the muzzle was pointed at the sky, not at me. In that brief instant, it struck me that this wasn’t the same man that had pursued us from Wellington’s training compound.

  1

  30 hours ago…

  “My name is FBI Special Agent Bering. How many fucking times do I have to tell you? You’ve got my ID. Now, I must speak with the Admiral!”

  The man secured to the table in an interrogation room on Pearl Harbor Naval Base maintained his physical composure, despite his words. He was tall and well-built with long hair pulled into a braided ponytail that hung down his broad back.

  “I’ve never seen an FBI agent that looked like you,” Captain Black said drily. “I’d guess you’re more the biker type.”

  He was seated across from the man who had somehow slipped past security and made it into Admiral Packard’s office. The Admiral had been working at the time, reviewing reports on the progress of the preparations for the exodus from Hawaii to Phoenix. When he’d looked up, the man had been standing in front of his desk, appearing to be patiently waiting for an opportunity to speak.

  As Packard stared at him in surprise, he had slipped his hand under the lip of his desk and pressed a silent panic alarm. Three seconds later, Captain Black and four Marines had burst in and tackled the uninvited guest to the floor. The man hadn’t resisted, but had tried to talk to the Admiral as Black hustled him out of the room.

  Now, the visitor was secured and guarded by a squad of Marines who had borrowed an interrogation room from the Military Police. A large, two-way mirror dominated one wall, giving Admiral Packard and his senior aide, Captain West, a clear view of the stark chamber. The door to their left opened and an officer from Naval Intelligence stepped through, closing it softly behind himself.

  “What have you learned, Commander?” the Admiral asked without turning his attention away from the interrogation.

  “Sir, we cannot validate anything he’s told us. Before the attacks, we would have been able to place a call to the Department of Justice and have an answer in five minutes. Failing that, we could have at least run the man’s prints. But there are simply no servers still in operation that will allow us to verify his claim. However, I did have one of our documents experts examine the FBI badge and ID he was carrying. His opinion is that they are genuine. Most likely.”

  “Most likely?” Captain West asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Sir, these days there are no guarantees. The technology available to the bad guys is, or was, equal to what was used by the government to create law enforcement
credentials. It is certainly possible that they are counterfeit. But my Senior Chief has been doing this for a very long time and he feels there is a high probability that the creds are genuine.”

  “What about the local FBI office in Honolulu?” West asked. “Can they validate?”

  “No sir,” the Commander said, shaking his head. “I spoke with the SAC, the Special Agent in Charge, and he has the same problem. There are no longer any databases available to use for vetting. If he doesn’t personally know the individual …”

  He turned his head toward the glass as the prisoner spoke again, raising his voice for the first time.

  “Look, Captain. We’re wasting time that none of us have. I can’t tell you anything else. I must speak with Admiral Packard. It is a matter of life and death!”

  “Whose life and death?” Black asked, apparently unimpressed.

  “Everyone, goddamn it! Now go tell the Admiral I’m from the Athena Project and the fucking clock is ticking!”

  Packard and West both blinked in surprise at the man’s words.

  “Captain?” the Admiral asked, turning his head to look at his aide.

  “You know what I know, sir,” he replied. “The Reagan is still several hours away from the location in the gulf. All we have is what’s in the file the Major recovered at Offutt.”

  Packard turned back to the glass, staring at the man for a moment before making a decision. Turning, he strode out of the observation area and a few seconds later entered the interrogation room. Captain Black looked up in surprise at being interrupted, then got to his feet when he saw who it was.

  “Thank you, Captain. Please give us the room,” Packard said, eyes boring into the shackled prisoner.

  “Sir, I don’t think…”

  “Noted,” Packard said. “Now, if you would.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Black was clearly unhappy with the idea of leaving the Admiral alone with the unknown man, but did as ordered without further protest. He quickly gathered his notebook and digital recorder before exiting into the hallway.