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He walked all the way down to Cell 57 and sat on Ash’s cot. He then had Brewer patch him through to Dr. Karp.

“I can’t say that I’m pleased,” the doctor said when Littlefield finished his report.

“I can’t say that I am, either.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then finish things.”

“Yes, sir. I will, sir. Good luck.”

Dr. Karp grunted a reply, then was gone.

“Brewer?” Littlefield said.

“I’m here.”

“Initiate Protocol Thirteen.”

7

Five minutes beyond the rock overhang, Captain Ash and his escort came to a tall chain-link fence. There were several rows of razor wire mounted to brackets across the top, meant to discourage anyone from climbing over.

His guide pulled a small, rectangular device out of his pocket and stared at it for a few seconds before nodding to his right.

“That way,” he said. “Seventy-five feet.”

As they walked along the fence, Ash caught sight of the building he’d been freed from. It was really no more than a distant, half-lit blob. That surprised him. He hadn’t realized they’d traveled so far.

What was even more surprising, though, was that there were no helicopters flying around looking for them, no vehicles racing across the desert hot on their trail, no apparent interest in them at all. Was it possible the Army didn’t even realize he was gone?

“Found it,” his guide said as he dropped to his knees beside the fence.

The man undid a couple of temporary ties from the chain-link, fence then pulled open a slit that had been previously cut into it.

He shoved the messenger bag through first, followed it, then pulled one of the edges back as far as it would go. “Your turn.”

As soon as Ash passed through, the guy hemmed up the fence, then said, “Not long now.”

“And then what?”

Ash got no response.

The desert on this side of the fence was no different from that on the other, save for the fact that it wasn’t under direct military control.

They found another ravine, this one only deep enough to cover them from the waist down. They followed it for several minutes before they climbed out and veered off to their right. In the sky, there was definitely something brewing in the East that would challenge the night for control before too long.

They walked for five more minutes, then the guide said, “Wait here.”

A minute passed. Then two.

Ash was just starting to wonder if the guy was going to come back when—

Light flashed, and a tremendous roar raced across the desert as the ground shook for what seemed like several seconds, knocking Ash to the ground.

He pushed himself up and stared, dumbstruck, toward the middle of the valley. The building that he’d been held in was gone, replaced by flames so bright, his eyes hurt looking at them even at this distance. Above the inferno, a giant cloud of smoke rose into the air, lit from below by the flames.

“You’ve got to go now!”

Ash whipped around. He hadn’t heard the other man return.

“Did…did you guys do that? Did you blow up the building?”

The man glared at Ash for a moment. “We were there to rescue you, not blow up anything. Whatever happened, they did it themselves. Now come on.”

“But why would the Army blow up their own building?”

“You think the Army did this to you?” He pointed toward the distant blaze. “The Army didn’t do that, and they weren’t the people who were holding you. You’ve gotten in a mess here you didn’t even realize you’d been pulled into.”

“What are you talking about? If they weren’t Army, then I need to report in, let them know what’s going on.”

“You don’t get it. Anything you report will get right back to the people who did this to you. You can strike out on your own and find out if I’m right, or you can take the help I’m offering and find out the truth.” When Ash didn’t immediately respond, the man added, “Don’t forget, that guy who helped me get you out was still inside when we left. There’s a pretty good chance he just gave his life to save you. So what’s it going to be?”

It was all too much for Ash to take in. Not the Army? If not, who were they? And why would reporting in get him in trouble? Almost none of it was making sense. About the only thing he knew for sure was that the man and his partner had gotten him out of the building before it exploded.

Finally he nodded. He didn’t have to trust them forever, but for now it seemed like the best option he had.

“Let’s go, then,” the man said. A few minutes later, they were standing at the edge of a blacktop road. The man pulled the messenger bag off his shoulder and handed it to Ash. “You’ll find another change of clothes inside. There’s also a driver’s license and a credit card under the name Craig Thompson. Don’t try using the card. It’s just for appearances and won’t work. But you’ll be Thompson only for the next leg. When you transfer again, you’ll be given a new ID. At that point, destroy these.”

“Transfer again?” Ash asked.

“There’s also two thousand dollars in cash,” the guide said, ignoring his question.

“Two thousand?”

“It should be more than enough in case of an emergency along the way.”

“Along the way to where?”

The man looked at him for a moment, then opened the flap of the messenger bag and pulled out a seven-by-seven-inches square, half-inch-thick package that had been wrapped completely in brown packing tape. “This is for your contact at your end station. He’ll know what to do with it.”

“Contact? End station? You’re not making any sense.”

The man stuffed the package back in the bag then pointed down the road. “A hundred yards that way you’ll find an abandoned gas station.” He looked at his watch. “In ten minutes, a car is going to stop there. The driver will ask you if you know where the nearest town is. You say it would be easier if you showed them. They’ll agree and you’ll get in.”

“Who is it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Where are they supposed to take me?”

“I have no idea.”

“So I’m supposed to just trust them?”

“You trusted us.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Seems to me you don’t have much of a choice now, either.”

“Please. You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on!”

The man looked at his watch again. “You’re down to nine minutes. If you’re not there when your ride arrives, they won’t wait. Then you’ll be on your own.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Good luck.”

Not knowing what else to do, Ash shook it, then watched the man disappear back into the night.

Finally he turned and started jogging down the highway.

8

James Ellison was a dead man, and he knew it.

After guiding Captain Ash and the other man — a man whose name he never knew — to the exit and making sure they got out, his plan had been to return to the supply closet where he’d left Sergeant Causey after he’d drugged the man’s coffee. He had a second, weaker dose that he was going to take himself so that they’d both be found unconscious together.

He had been on his way there when he heard Major Littlefield’s voice in the distance. He pulled out his radio and turned it up just loud enough so he could listen in on the conversation.

What he heard made his blood turn to ice. The door to cellblock 50 had been left open. He’d been sure he closed it, but apparently the lock hadn’t engaged. It was his biohazard suit — it made it hard to hear the click of the latch.

Though Ash and the other man had still been in the facility when the emergency power came back on and the dosing cycle started again, they were so far away at that point, there was no chance the bug could have reached them before they got outside.

He, on the other hand, was toast.

He told himself the reason he needed to get out of there was because someone had to report in the fact that Major Littlefield was no longer in the picture.

His cell phone was in his bag in the observation room, and therefore permanently unavailable, so he would have to find an out-of-the-way pay phone. After he made the call, he could stumble into the desert and die, hopefully from exposure before the bug took him down. That was the best plan he could come up with.

But while the information about Major Littlefield was important, it would also be something the others would learn soon enough without him.

The coming Protocol Thirteen firestorm—that was the real reason he turned and ran.

9

The gas station was right where the guide had told Ash it would be. It was an old, adobe-style building with a low concrete pad out front where the pumps used to sit. By the look of it, it had been left for dead a long time ago.

Ash raced across the highway, thinking that whoever was going to be picking him up must already be there, perhaps parked out of sight. But when he got there, no one was around.

Had his ride already come and gone? Had he missed his opportunity to get away from the base? Or, he wondered, had the driver been scared off by the explosion? It certainly wouldn’t be out of the question.

Just then he heard a whine, low and from the South. Tires on asphalt. It had to be.

He peered down the highway. Everything was dark. No headlights, no sign that anyone was coming, except the whine.

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