Legion: V Plague Book 19
LEGION
V Plague Book Nineteen
DIRK PATTON
Text Copyright © 2019 by Dirk Patton
Copyright © 2019 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 Reaper Ranch Press LLC
PO Box 856
Gilmer, TX 75644-0856
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2019
ISBN: 9781070640310
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, brands, places, events and incidents are either the product 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
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
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
Brimstone: V Plague Book 16
Abaddon: V Plague Book 17
Cataclysm: V Plague Book 18
Legion: V Plague Book 19
The 36 Series
36: A Novel
The Void: A 36 Novel
Other Titles
Coldfall
The Awakening (coming Summer 2019)
Author’s Note
Thank you for purchasing Legion, Book 19 in the V Plague series. If you haven’t read the first eighteen books, you need to stop reading now and start with Unleashed, Book 1, otherwise you will be utterly lost as this installment continues the story in a serialized format. I intentionally did nothing to explain comments and events that reference books 1 through 18. 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 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
2019
LEGION
Take a look to the sky just before you die
It is the last time you will
Blackened roar massive roar fills the crumbling sky
Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry
Stranger now, are his eyes, to this mystery
He hears the silence so loud
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be
Now they will see what will be, blinded eyes to see
For Whom The Bell Tolls ― Metallica
1
The Russian Hind transport helicopter pounded its way south, the heavy rotor echoing loudly off the empty landscape. In the back, Master Chief Gonzales turned and looked at Nicole when she tested her restraints with a savage twist of her body.
“Can’t break those,” he said. “Not even you.”
She glared at him, anger and confusion coursing through her and making her red eyes glow in the dim interior lighting. He watched her for a few moments before leaning his head against a vibrating bulkhead and closing his.
Taking deep breaths, she stared at Gonzales as she forced her racing mind to slow. After several minutes, she was able to think rationally. To begin to analyze her situation. And there was nothing good about it.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
Gonzales didn’t react to her question. He remained still, appearing to be asleep. But she knew he was faking. After living together, she knew what he smelled like when he was sleeping.
“I know you’re awake. Be a man and talk to me. Tell me why you’re doing this!”
Gonzales slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to face her.
“I’m doing my job.”
Nicole frowned in confusion.
“What? How is this your job? Did the Admiral send you?”
He shook his head.
“No. The President did.”
“The President? What the hell are you talking about? Why am I tied up?”
“It’s safer for everyone if you’re restrained.”
“Goddamn it! Tell me what the fuck is going on!”
Nicole lunged against her chains but only succeeded in making them clank loudly. Gonzales stared at her, a war of emotions flickering across his face. After nearly a minute, he sighed and looked away.
“I’m not who you think I am.”
“Then exactly who are you?”
“You’re the smarter of the two of us,” he said, tilting his head at the pair of crewmen in the cabin with them.
Nicole had been aware of their presence, but nothing more. Now, she looked at the two men, noticing unfamiliar uniforms. And the presence of name tapes that were written in Cyrillic. Her eyes widened as she turned back to Gonzales.
“You son of a bitch,” she breathed. “You’re a goddamn Russian?”
“Half,” Gonzales said with another shrug. “My father was a Cuban military attaché stationed in Moscow during the Cold War. My mother was Russian. I was raised to infiltrate America.”
She stared at him, mind whirling at the level of deception.
“So, everything you’ve said to me from the moment I met you has been a lie.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“You are going to save President Barinov’s life. The same way John saved Admiral Packard.”
“Finally, the truth. But it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“My blood. I’m not a universal donor, like John. Unless Barinov happens to have the same type, I’m useless.”
“That’s not your concern,” he said.
They stared at each other and she was caught unprepared for the look of sadness in his eyes.
“Did you ever mean it?” she asked.
“Mean what?”
“When you told me you loved me. Held me in your arms, made love to me and told me you loved me. Was that just your job, or did you get off fucking the weird infected chick? Was there anything that was real?”
Gonzales didn’t answer.
“So, all that bitching and complaining about me going on this mission. That was just theater?”
“I already had a plan in motion to obtain your blood, get it off the island and to the mainland. Had to scramble when it was clear you weren’t going to be talked down.”
Nicole stared at him then slowly lowered her head to the cold, steel deck. She lay without moving, eyes fixed on the head of a rivet that hadn’t been completely smoothed before the surface was painted. Gonzales watched her for a long time before sighing, leaning his head back and closing his eyes again.
Nicole was aware the moment his attention went off of her. Counting the seconds in her head, she waited two full minutes before carefully moving her head to see the two crewmen. Both were dozing, heads bobbing gently with the motion of the helicopter in flight.
Taking a deep breath, she allowed the rage that had built inside her to flow through her body. Her muscles hardened and swelled in response to a massive dump of adrenaline and the increase in blood pressure. Flexing, she pressed against the confining sleeves of the straitjacket and was rewarded with the soft pop of a stitch giving way.
Pausing, she exhaled and took a deeper breath before exerting more force. Another pop, then several more and her arms shifted slightly within the restraint. A quick check of Gonzales and the crewmen. They were unaware of her efforts. The roar of the helo’s engines completely covered the sounds of tearing stitches.
Resuming her efforts, Nicole fought the urge to scream her rage as a wave of redness descended over her vision. Pressing and twisting her arms against her bonds, she steadily applied force until a hand was free. Quickly, she released two straps, pushed her arms out again and hardly contained a shout of joy when they came free.
Moving carefully so the chains holding her to the deck didn’t jingle and give her away, she removed the straitjacket completely and sat up. All that remained were the shackles around her ankles. One look at the heavy steel and she knew that Gonzales had been right. Even John couldn’t have broken them.
Breathing deeply to slow her pounding heart, she looked at the three men and spotted a single key on a ring swinging gently from one of the crewmen’s belts. She couldn’t be positive, but it sure looked like it would fit the locks.
Nicole stared at the key for a long moment, then looked at the man’s face. He was asleep. Peaceful. And young, appearing to be no more than twenty-two or -three. She knew what she had to do, but she hesitated. Could she? Was she capable of taking another’s life?
She was well aware that she’d sent infected to kill members of the militia when they were escaping Groom Lake. But that was different.
No, it isn’t, she realized with a jolt of fresh anger.
An inch at a time, fearful of clanking the chain and warning the men that she was almost free, Nicole got to her knees. With a check on Gonzales, she inched her way across the deck. As she closed on the sleeping man, she began to eagerly anticipate the smell of his blood when she tore him open. The luxuriant feel of it coating her hands and slipping between her fingers.
Heart pounding with excitement, Nicole finally lost the battle for control. As one hand closed around the dangling key, the other locked onto the man’s neck. With a scream of both rage and delight, she tore his throat out as the key was ripped from his belt.
2
Lucas and Martinez stood on the tarmac at Vandenberg Air Force Base, watching as Johnson carefully maneuvered the Stealth Hawk down the transport’s ramp.
“Don’t like leaving you on your own,” Lucas said quietly. “Not with two Russian helos on the way and God knows what else they may have set up in the area for defense.”
“We’ll be in and out before they’re in the area,” Martinez said confidently. “And don’t worry about me. Take care of what you need to.”
Lucas was quiet for a moment. Martinez looked at him and nodded before hurrying forward to the helicopter which was now clear of the much larger plane. Lucas watched her for a beat, then ran across the tarmac and up the ramp. Slapping the button to close it, he hustled forward to the cockpit where Vance had remained during the unloading.
“They’re clear,” he said, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat.
“We’re rolling,” Vance said.
The engines whined as he brought them across a taxiway and lined up on a runway.
“How long?” Lucas asked.
“Hold on to your ass,” Vance said with a grin, sliding a pair of controls to their stops.
The engines bellowed, straining against the aircraft’s brakes and causing the entire plane to shudder. Watching several instruments, Vance released them a few seconds later and the giant aircraft leapt forward far more aggressively than something its size should have been able to.
Speed built quickly without any passengers or cargo aboard and in a surprisingly short distance they lifted into the air. Banking to the west, they were over the Pacific in moments, climbing steeply for the thinner air at one hundred thousand feet that would allow the plane to reach hypersonic speeds.
Martinez glanced up as a sonic boom reached her ears. With its adaptive camouflage, she knew trying to spot the aircraft was a futile exercise, but the glance skyward had been reflexive.
“Ready?” Drago asked, meeting her at the tail rotor.
“We’re good,” she said, jogging to the cockpit.
“Mount up,” he called to Chico and Johnson.
Martinez was at the controls before all three had made it through the side door.
“Strap your asses down tight,” she called as the engines whined to life. “Got a pair of Hind gunships in the area. Things may get exciting.”
“Thought you told Lucas we’d be in and out before they got here,” Chico called, slamming the side door.
“I lied. Bastards should already be in the area.”
The three Rangers took her suggestion to heart and cinched down the straps they’d normally ignore. It’s one thing to be ferried somewhere in a helo on a nice, calm day. It’s entirely different when there’s every reason to expect they’re about to be passengers on a roller coaster from hell.
Thirty seconds later, Martinez pulled back on the collective and the helo leapt into the air. Before anyone’s spine had decompressed, she spun them around, lowered the nose and headed to the southeast. With one eye on the controls, she initiated a radio call that was routed through an orbiting satellite. A steady beeping in her ear sounded as the system waited for it to be answered.
She was beginning to think she wouldn’t be able to establish comms with the SEAL when the call was finally picked up. A frown wrinkled her brow when it was immediately obvious from the sound of his voice that the man was running.
“This is Dagger One Seven,” Martinez said, using the identifier Jessica had provided. “I’m fifteen minutes from your AO. What’s the situation?”
She was referring to Strickland’s rough location, or Area of Operation.
“Ground troops a couple miles to my southwest, moving toward my position. No visual, but I’m hearing at least one helo in the same direc
tion. I’m heading for the coast.”
“Need your position for extraction.”
Before Strickland could answer, several alarms began wailing simultaneously. With a string of curses in Spanish, Martinez threw the Stealth Hawk on its side, rapidly losing altitude. She was aware of the SEAL shouting into the radio but was too busy trying to stay alive to answer him.
An instant later, a missile trailing a tongue of flame flashed past the windscreen, but the danger wasn’t over. Martinez twisted and torqued the helo, corkscrewing into a new direction and glancing at the instruments. The helo’s electronics had identified the location the missile had been fired from.
“See how you like this, pendejo,” Martinez said through gritted teeth.
Thumbing a button on the control stick, she released a ripple of hellfire missiles from one of the Stealth Hawk’s pods. Programmed with the coordinates of the enemy launcher, they raced away into the darkness and Martinez brought the helicopter as close to the ground as possible without landing. Hoping to hide from the pair of anti-air missiles that had just been launched at her.
A second later, she recognized they were locked onto her. Somehow. Apparently the big helo wasn’t quite as stealthy as advertised.
Turning to face the incoming threat, she pulled hard on the collective and sent them shooting straight up in the air. Simultaneously, the system automatically released a stream of magnesium flares intended to draw the inbound weapons off target.
Still gaining altitude, Martinez grinned savagely when a brilliant bloom of fire lit the night a few miles away. Her missiles had arrived on target, and judging by the secondary explosions, they’d made a direct hit. But she still had the little problem of inbound weapons.
Twisting away, she manually released another dozen decoy flares, then turned back to face the incoming threat with the coolest part of the helo exposed to the heat seeking warheads. For an instant, she thought she could see the fiery tails streaking in, then the first one took the bait and went after one of the flares.
Turning again, she was reaching to deploy more flares when a second missile streaked in and detonated. It had also been decoyed but had locked onto a flare that was still too close to the Stealth Hawk.