The Genesis Plague (2010)

would be packed away in USAMRIID’s ever-growing stockpile of biological agents. And in typical military fashion, each team member worked on only one facet of a very complex gem.
    After Frank’s superiors learned about the covert cave excavation and subsequent on-site installation he’d managed here in Iraq, Frank had been forced to resign … before definitive clinical tests had been performed. Regardless, Crawford was highly sceptical that a controlled laboratory environment could ever simulate the countless ‘what-if’ scenarios that might play out in the real world. The fact that Al-Zahrani had somehow already gotten infected only proved that point.
    Since its inception, Operation Genesis had been on the fast-track. With things getting sloppy, no clear objective and no way out, Crawford found himself wishing for simpler days, when conventional battles were fought using conventional tactics. Mano y mano .
    If only Stokes - the smartest of the three - hadn’t gotten his leg blown off and had an epiphany to single-handedly rewrite the rules of modern warfare. Stokes was one charismatic son of a bitch, thought Crawford - a salesman to salesmen. The question was: had Crawford himself fallen under Stokes’s spell? With all of Stokes’s TV-talk of Revelation and Judgement Day, there seemed a very real possibility that Stokes might well himself be the silver-tongued Antichrist.
    Secreting Al-Zahrani out the back door of this tent would surely seal the fate of humankind. A new balance would be struck. Al-Zahrani would be the ultimate experiment. The ultimate ‘what-if’ scenario.
    ‘Sir! Please … I can’t do this alone,’ Richards insisted.
    Snapping out of his funk, Crawford rushed over to the bed and hooked his hands under Al-Zahrani’s ankles. He counted to three. They hoisted Al-Zahrani from the bed, carried him out the back door, and loaded him into the passenger seat of a pickup truck that sat idling outside.

52
    ‘I need to speak with Crawford … Now !’ Jason insisted to the two marines who blocked the door to the tent. ‘So step aside!’ He had to yell to compete with the barrage of gunfire throughout the camp. He dared a step closer, but the marines aimed their M-16s at his chest.
    ‘No exceptions!’ the taller marine screamed robotically back at him. ‘No one goes inside!’
    Jason stared disbelievingly at their weapons. ‘You’re making a big mistake,’ he warned. ‘We need to get Al-Zahrani inside the MRAP! It’s the only place he’ll be safe!’ The MRAP was a rolling fortress designed specifically to sustain high-calibre rounds and direct hits from light and medium artillery. With the ambush intensifying, the tent was an easy target. How could these morons not figure it out?
    The guards stood their ground.
    Jason’s adrenaline was pumping hard enough to make him see stars. It was precisely this blind allegiance that he’d come to loathe about the military. Even the most intelligent minds were malleable, so that over time a soldier’s thoughts and core ideals could be deconstructed and craftily reprogrammed. Successful armies relied on this group psyche to bond soldiers under extreme conditions, but he’d also witnessed how ego-driven leadership could easily exploit loyalty for purely self-serving objectives that inevitably led to unnecessary casualties. It happened often, and it was happening right now before his very eyes. Jason clenched his fists and glared at the guards.
    ‘Sorry. We have our orders,’ the shorter, less malleable one replied.
    ‘And we have ours!’ a deep voice blasted over the din.
    In unison, Jason and the marines turned to the voice.
    Meat, Camel and Jam stepped up in a V formation, pointing M-16s at the marines.
    ‘Let’s keep things friendly, fellas,’ Meat suggested. ‘Let the man inside. You know he’s right. So be smart, will you please? Right now we’ve all got a real battle to fight.’ He tipped his head towards the road where the remaining marines were mobilized, struggling to hold back the advancing enemy convoy now a half klick south.
    The marines exchanged glances.
    ‘You’ve got big balls, pal,’ the taller one said.
    ‘And I’ve got the dick to match them,’ Meat boasted. ‘So what’s it gonna be?’
    The taller man grimaced, lowered his weapon, then tapped his partner on the arm and motioned for him to step aside. ‘Behave yourself in there,’ the marine warned Jason.
    Jason nodded to Meat, then swiftly made his way