“Command, we are on target and will advise on exfil when needed, how copy?” Moon radioed, and without waiting for a reply, he yelled to his men, “Get moving!” Moon then stepped toward the road. They had taken care of the mob and were now just two houses from their target location. He thought about what he had to do: go to the back door and type in the code. What was the code? He was drawing a blank, so he purposely bit his tongue. The pain was excruciating. His coppery blood slipped down his throat and that jogged his memory. The code was 0-2-2-7. He repeated it over and over again in his head as he was now running past another house, with his men following close behind. His eyes focused on the next house on his left. The numbers nailed to the front porch pillar of that house came into view—4704. They had found the house, and it was intact. Moon’s lungs heaved as he ran as fast as he could while under the weight of his gear. His arms pumped, even as his left hand held his rifle. He was making progress!

  The front gate was open, and the men ran through it, their rifles up and covering the front porch, second-floor windows, and corners of the house as Moon first led them down the driveway, then followed a small path around to the back yard.

  Staring up, rifle still ready, aiming at the rear door, Moon led the men up the concrete stairs and swiftly punched in the code—0-2-2-7. Nothing happened. No metallic click, no pop of the door cracking open, nothing—that was it, until he turned the lever handle and then the door swung inward.

  Moon pushed the door open the rest of the way to reveal a reserved kitchen with a small doorway that noticeably led out into the living room. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and the man behind him whispered, “Move in.”

  Like water, the men flooded the kitchen, and Allman held the open doorway as Moon secured the door behind them. Like a choreographed dance, the men moved effortlessly through the bottom floor of the home until Moon arrived at a door. He pulled it open, revealing a staircase leading down into a dark basement. He knew that was their ticket to freedom, their route to take.

  Moon flipped the light switch, and nothing happened. He laughed and then used his weapon light to see as he started to step down and then stopped himself as he noticed his white light reflecting off a thin monofilament line pulled taut across the length of the second stair, just high enough to trip someone.

  He froze and pointed down to the line and spoke softly for the men to hear. “Booby trap.”

  He handed his rifle to Tag, who was the man directly behind him. The weapon light remained trained on the staircase, while Allman turned toward the interior of the home to provide security as Moon worked the problem. Each man had a job to do, and each man was an expert in it.

  Slipping a Leatherman from inside his utility pouch, Moon squatted and visually traced the line from one side to the other, seeing that one end was attached to a screw in the wall and a second was attached to another anchor point on the opposite side. On foreign soil, he had seen lines like that attached to explosives, but here, the hazard was a simple tripping trap, designed to topple a man and hopefully break the intruder’s neck once the person came to rest at the base of the stairs.

  He reached down and clipped the line, then stepped down, and while the light still shined, he scanned the remaining steps for any other hazards.

  They all seemed clean, dirty, but safe.

  With his rifle back in hand, he led his men down the wooden steps that creaked with each foot strike and into the nearly pitch-black basement.

  The concrete floor was smooth under foot, and as the men moved around, clearing the area, they noticed shelves with tools in their proper place, paint cans, and then a small sliver of light emitting from around a thick piece of metal, nearly flush within the floor, which reminded Moon of a manhole cover.

  Moon stepped over to the emitting light and shined his weapon’s light across the cover. Embossed around the edges of the city-owned, thick piece of steel were the words City of Chevy Chase. Moon snickered as he took a knee, and then with his right fist, he pounded on the cover, a hollow, metal sound echoing as he spoke. “Doctor Halbrook, open up! It’s Agent Moon.”

  The men fell silent as the hollow sound of metal continued to resonate through the basement. Moon took a few breaths and then beat on the cover again. “This is Agent Mark Moon with Protocol 9! Open up, Peter. We have what you’re looking for.”

  Again, the men froze, not daring to make a sound while straining to hear any response. And then it happened. A solid metal thud resonated from under the re-purposed manhole cover. The men held their breath, and without further ado, the cover lifted up by a pair of gas struts that even held it in place.

  A bright yellow light illuminated within the short tunnel below the cover, with a ladder system attached to the concrete tube leading down into the bunker, where Doctor Halbrook held a small .38 stainless-steel revolver up toward the men. From a position of cover down in the bunker, his arm protruded around the wall, up toward the open hatchway as he challenged Moon.

  “What’s the password?” Halbrook yelled out, keeping the revolver trained up and toward the open hole the manhole cover used to occupy. His words rose in the air, almost demanding, up the access hole and into the basement.

  Moon stepped back from the access point and shook his head. The old bastard had never given him a password. He had mentioned nothing of the sort, other than to have Moon and his men memorize an old university picture of him. That was it. He took a moment to think about what he wanted to say versus what he needed to say. Moon knew that if he played his cards right, he could drop the sample and give up a pint of blood, then call for extraction in the span of twenty minutes tops. But in the back of his mind, he understood nothing had ever gone smooth, and his instincts were beginning to tell him he would be there for quite a while.

  Allman and Rico Tag just stood back and let Moon work his magic as they tried not to laugh.

  Moon shuffled back to the hole, close enough his voice would be heard, but not so close a shaky-handed doctor that was unfit to use a firearm could accidentally shoot him. “Look, Doc, there is no password, but what I can tell you is that you are Doctor Peter Halbrook, a graduate of the University of California with a PhD in microbiology and an MD in infectious diseases. But then you continued your education at—” All of a sudden, Mark Moon drew a blank. But it made no difference as the doc began talking again.

  “Emory in Atlanta. I went to Emory, and you were right, there was never a password. So I take it you are, in fact, Agent Moon.” He lowered the revolver and slipped it into his right jacket pocket. “Don’t worry, it ain’t even loaded. I’m a lot of smoke and mirrors when it comes to…well, I guess, violence. Come on down. I just fixed some coffee.”

  Chapter 11

  A Last Hope

  Mark Moon

  Inside the Bunker

  4704 Falstone Avenue

  Chevy Chase, Maryland

  At the bottom of the ladder, Moon turned to face Doctor Halbrook and extended his hand to greet him. “Peter, it’s been one hell of a day getting to you, but now that we’re here, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Oh, my dear boy, are you the one?” he asked as Allman and Tag climbed down the ladder.

  “Come again? I don’t understand,” Moon replied.

  Peter stepped closer and examined Moon’s eyes as well as the telltale black veins of ivy protruding past Moon’s collar. “I apologize. You must think me aloof. Please, allow me to start over. Whether you were aware of it or not, in the past, I worked closely with Doctor Ava Carter. She spoke of you, explaining that you were most likely immune, that her vaccine had stopped you from turning. Is this true?”

  “I’m not sure what all she told you, but yes, I took one of her experimental vaccines, and it kept me from becoming one of those monsters.” Moon was uncomfortable with how the doctor was staring at him. It was as if he were one of those dogs in the underground lab that he had set free. The man’s dark eyes were making him feel just like a lab rat.

  “I miss her so!” Peter turned and moved toward a metal door inset within the concrete wall with a silver handle and keypad, where he punched in a code. The door actuated outward with a hiss of air. “We have much to talk about. Please come this way.”

  Moon took a deep breath. Nothing was ever easy. All he wanted to do was pass along what he needed to give the doctor and then bounce on out of that town. But he held his tongue, and with his rifle lowered, he followed the doctor through the door, where concrete steps took him deeper underground.

  Allman and Tag both reluctantly followed.

  At the bottom of the stairs, they came to another metal door, but this one opened freely once the doctor turned the handle and then pulled the door outward, stepping aside and gesturing for his three new friends to continue inside.

  When the door opened, Moon could see what looked like a large living room with tall ceilings, couches with throw pillows, and in the background, he saw a modern-day kitchen with another metal door laid within that same far concrete wall.

  Moon, Allman, and Rico Tag all walked inside the bunker, followed close behind by the doctor.

  “Doc, we don’t have a lot of time—” Moon explained.

  “Please, call me Peter,” he replied with an odd smile. “Let me give you a quick tour and then a nice cup of coffee.”

  “Peter, we really⁠—”

  “I insist… Please, sit and have coffee with me. I haven’t seen another human being in over a month. The least you can do is entertain an old man with warm coffee. It will give us a chance to catch up, and then you can be on your way.”

  Moon slipped the go bag off his back and handed it to Peter. “Doctor, my men died to retrieve this sample. A lot of them. What you see standing before you are who is left of a twelve-man element that descended onto the Atlanta campus. Understand that our mutual friend, Ava, died in my arms, but just before she passed, she told me that you were our last hope, that I had to get you this sample, the one she kept locked inside her lab, along with a vial of my own blood. She said with those two things, you would be able to stop the Ares Plague, that you would be able to create a cure for all mankind.” Moon took a breath. “Now, I’ll indulge you along a quick tour and cup of coffee, but bottom line, in twenty minutes, my men and I have a chopper to catch.”

  The doctor’s face noticeably slumped. “I’m sorry if I have offended you, but most of all, I can’t even imagine losing that many of my friends, especially not at once. I’m truly sorry for your loss,” Doctor Halbrook explained and reached out to lay his hand on Moon’s forearm. “I know a lot is riding on what you have brought me today. Understand, though, other than the Russians’ antidote to VX-e that they have locked away, I’m the last man on Earth that can find a cure.”

  “And that’s why we’re here, Peter,” Moon replied and laid his free hand on top of the doctor’s. “Go ahead and show us around, then we can chat and move on.”

  “To start with, we are all standing in what I like to call my relaxation room, where we can watch movies—DVDs—or read any book from the library in the corner.”

  Allman and Tag just stood silent as Moon entertained the doctor.

  “How do you power this place?” Moon reluctantly asked, but he figured the more he played along with the unstable doctor, the quicker they could leave.

  “Great question. I use the solar panels discretely attached to my home’s roof. And that door over there,” he pointed across the open space and through the small kitchen, “that door is a ventilation shaft and doubles as an emergency exit.” He stepped around the couch and pointed again. “We have bunk beds in there that will comfortably hold eight grown men, and the room next to it is the latrine. We even have a full-size shower, no tub, but the shower is relatively roomy.” He laughed. “But the best part of all is that I have my lab in the room next to the kitchen. Now, before you all get paranoid, it’s nothing crazy. It’s no BSL-4 or anything like that. Hell, it’s barely even a level one.”

  “How about we go take that blood sample now, and you can show me the lab?” Moon replied.

  “Sure thing, but let’s stop in the kitchen to get a cup of coffee on our way,” Doctor Halbrook added.

  Moon shifted his eyes around the room and could tell the entire bunker was probably close to two thousand square feet. It reminded him of a small Florida house, yet Peter was talking in terms of depth. It would take them no time at all to walk over to the lab, yet Peter acted as if they were pulling over in the middle of a long drive just to grab said coffee. He found his behavior peculiar, but he really didn't know the man. Maybe before the incident he had been that way, or maybe the collapse had created the nuances Moon was picking up on.

  “This won’t take long,” Doctor Halbrook explained as Moon took a seat in a chair. It was no bother for him to roll up his right arm sleeve and prepare for the needle.

  To the side of Moon, the doctor opened up a phlebotomy kit, then paused. “Where are my manners?” he said to himself, then stepped to the cabinet next to him and withdrew a pair of large latex gloves. He slipped them on, one at a time, and smiled. “That’s better. I’m ready to go now.” He laughed.

  Moon glared at the man and drew in a calming breath. “Doc, I’m pretty clean. I mean, I’ve only fucked prostitutes overseas, so hopefully you won’t catch anything,” Moon said, laughing. He hoped by making light of the situation, it would calm Peter down, but only time would tell.

  Peter chuckled.

  Moon sipped his coffee as Doctor Halbrook slid a needle into the crook of his right arm. The coffee was warm and some of the best coffee he had had in quite some time. Granted, the Naval Air Station had afforded them morning coffee, but their generic and burnt Maxwell House was no match for what Moon was drinking now.

  Doctor Halbrook slipped collection tube after collection tube into the hub, pulling dark blood within each tube as he spoke. “I see you’re enjoying that warm cup of joe.”

  “Damn right I am. What’s your secret?” Moon replied, his eyes shifting to his men a few feet away, who were nodding with smiles as they, too, were gladly partaking in their cups of coffee while also relieved to be off of their feet.

  “Well, I hate to be the type of guy that would say I told you so…but…I did tell you to have a cup.” He laughed. “It’s the beans. They come from a self-sustaining farm in Florida. Of all the places to grow coffee beans, it’s ironic the best come from the Florida soil. The beans, they really do make a difference. I just happened to have a few pounds on hand before being forced underground, so it’s my little slice of Heaven down here in Hell.”

  Moon sipped again. “Couple of pounds? Doc, you’ve been down here a month. You must be running dry by now.”

  “Well, I might have a tad more than a few pounds, but as long as I’m not underground for too many more months, I’m set with supplies. I have food, canned and fresh. My freezer, in the other room, has nearly a whole cow in it, plus some Maryland crabs. It’s a shame you guys can’t stay for dinner. I’d whip us up a mean crab pot… How about it?” Doctor Halbrook said and then pulled the hub and needle from inside of Moon’s arm. Quickly, he covered the small hole with gauze and a Band-Aid. “That’s step one, Agent Moon. You can move now while I check out Doctor Carter’s sample.”

  The doctor pushed himself away from Moon and then stood from his rolling stool. A devilish smile cracked his face and expanded as he placed the five-by-seven plastic basket filled with tubes of blood into a small refrigerator next to an industrial-looking microscope. He then turned to the go bag Moon had carried Doctor Carter’s sample in.

  “Now,” Doctor Halbrook joyfully exclaimed as he opened the bag and pulled out the polymer container. Flipping the security straps upward, he cracked the lid. “I just need to see if the final piece is still intact.” He eyed the stainless-steel tank and then pulled it out. His gloved hands held firmly as he then opened the container, and a cool white mist slipped from behind the lid as his eyes glowed with a childlike glee. “I see the sample looks good.” He closed the tank and then set it on a shelf inside the small refrigerator next to Moon’s blood.

  Turning to Agent Moon, he added, “No matter how consequential or inconsequential a journey is, they all have a beginning and an end. For you, this marks all you must do. Your journey stops here, and this is where mine begins.”

  Moon nodded and took a final drink of his coffee, draining what was left in the mug.

  “I’ll walk you and your friends out, but do be careful, Agent Moon. I hear there are some nasty creatures outside, and when I say nasty, I mean inhuman things I care never to see again.”

  “How long will it take you to figure this out?” Moon asked as he moved out of the lab, his men close behind.

  “There’s no way to really know, but rest assured, I won’t stop until I have the answer. All of mankind rides on this.” Doctor Halbrook continued to walk the men across the bunker and stopped at the door. “Once you breach the top, please make sure the manhole cover is sealed, won’t you?”

  Both Moon and Allman shook the doctor’s hand, while Tag readied his rifle as the door to the stairwell opened. Moon didn’t know if he’d ever see the doctor again or even if he’d ever be back in that bunker, but he glanced the interior one last time and prayed to God that Doctor Halbrook found the cure.

  Chapter 12

  Evil Still Exists

  Vargo

  90th Missile Wing

  Minuteman III ICBM

  Launch Facility

  Raymer, Colorado

  Dust bunnies and tumbleweeds swirled around the group as they loaded up the trio of pickup trucks known as technicals in the military world. They were just a hop, skip, and a jump from their target location, and with the current intel, they should have easier access than the last compound they tried to enter.