Earth, London

Richmond Park

Elizabeth thought that this was what hell on earth looked like, as she carried another sick child into their transporter.

From the moment Michael decided that they would go all out to help those affected by this horrifying disease, she made a decision to be one of the volunteers. There was not even a bit of guilt for not being on the Ascension, and helping with the intelligence section, which was assisting Max in finding those who perpetrated this atrocity. They now had dozens of people with intelligence backgrounds that could do that job, she was not indispensable.

Here, doing everything she could to save as many lives as they possibly could—it mattered more.

This London site for the infected people was set up in Richmond Park, which was big enough to accommodate all the sick people. No hospital could take in so many patients, so this was the best option under the circumstances. The British Army helped with hundreds of their tents and mobile hospitals, providing shelter from the rainy English weather.

Yet, people didn’t stay here for long; as fast as one transporter landed and picked up the passengers, it lifted off and a second would come a few minutes later for the next group. Max and Ares were coordinating the entire operation, and it was running like a Swiss clock. The only crazy thing she saw were the protesters, who did not like what was happening in this area.

A good part of Richmond Park was fenced off and there were signs everywhere stating that the area was off-limits to everyone; two groups disregarded that warning.

The first were members of the natural environment conservationist movement, who were protesting how all their efforts were endangering the habitat of hundreds of deer that were living in the park. Elizabeth even saw a few of the animals, running through the woods.

The second group was the members of the Richmond Golf Club, which were apparently livid because of the damage their green playing fields were suffering. She still was not quite sure which of the two groups was crazier. Nonetheless, their activities exposed them to the infection, and they had to join all the people in the tents. Since they were still in the beginning stages, they were put on the end of the list for pickup to the ISS2, which Elizabeth found morbidly humorous.

Max managed to tow ISS2 into orbit in time, carrying within all portable AutoDocs the space station had. Those devices were already saving countless lives and were the only chance the infected people had to survive this plague.

So many people from the Ascension volunteered, responding to Michael’s call for help, more than they could ever possibly use; even with almost all available transporters used for the effort.

They were all a bit apprehensive at first, not sure what kind of welcome they would receive. Not so long ago, their families were taken into custody by those nations that wanted Solarian Union tech. But from the very first landing, they were treated with respect; she will need to speak with Michael afterward, to discover what exactly he said to the politicians, to ensure full cooperation from the afflicted countries.

Nano-patches that Max made in great numbers were true lifesavers. They were not powerful enough to stop the disease, but they slowed down its progress considerably, actively fighting the virus propagation. That little gadget was buying enough time for the transporters to carry the sick to ISS2 for treatment. So far, not one person who arrived at the gathering sites and received a nano-patch has died. Unfortunately, some were already dead on arrival and there was nothing else to do for them, except calling a hazmat team. Their bodies were taken to another site for cremation. It was horrifying to see their family members, in pain from a debilitating disease and grieving for their loved ones.

Elizabeth was assigned to one of the bigger transporters in their growing fleet, with all of its seats taken out so it could carry almost a hundred people into orbit. After the spacecraft docked, the patients were immediately transferred into silvery AutoDoc pods, which performed their miracles.

Just a few minutes inside one was all that it took, such a short period of time to decide the fate of so many. The treated people were transferred to another transporter that carried them to different centers on Earth, so they could recuperate. There was not enough time to address any other ailments they had, only to kill off the virus.

The thing that was breaking her heart was that they were transporting mostly the children, as they were more susceptible to this disease than adults were. So far, she had to talk twice to the parents of the children that were beyond any help, their small hearts had already stopped. Those parents were frantic, begging for help that she could not provide. How does one console a mother that is holding her dead baby in her arms?

Even while her heart was breaking, she could not stop; there were others in need of help… so she forced herself to move on.

“Will you make it stop hurting?” A little girl asked her as she was applying a nano-patch to her shoulder.

“Yes, sweetie,” she told the child, “you and your mom will fly to the space station, and there, the doctors will make you all better.”

The little girl hugged her, and whispered, “thank you,” quietly in her ear. She held her for a few seconds, and then the girl returned to the embrace of her mother. After applying a patch to a parent, Elizabeth moved on. The brave woman was ignoring her own pain to comfort a child; it was a scene she witnessed so many times.

The only break they made was to have a quick lunch, usually provided by the Army on site. Work lasted until the last patient they could fit inside was boarded. She used those moments of relative peace to check her mail using the CEI. Michael and she wrote short messages, just to stay in touch, and to give each other strength.

She checked the online news; they were mostly about the situation she was involved with. Tear-jerking stories, a consequence of an evil act.

Yet, one video made her lose her appetite; she clicked on it because it got millions of views in a very short time. Elizabeth immediately wished she did not… it was vile.

A self-proclaimed Ayatollah Mohammad Hussain Sefat was speaking at a big rally, before a multitude of happy faces.

“This plague is the will of God, a just punishment of the unfaithful and unworthy. Rejoice, you who are righteous, the day of his judgment is upon us.” The old man screamed to the cheering masses.

His face expressed joy, caused by the suffering of innocent people, and she wished that he was struck dead where he stood.

The man was denounced by all Islamic officials, yet, there were those among the uneducated and easily led astray who revered his hate-laced speech. He was currently on the top of all ‘most wanted’ lists, the first on all bounty sites; but he could not be found anywhere.

She knew that if she happened to be in his presence, she would rip his poisonous tongue out of his mouth.

Elizabeth closed the video and returned to her job; people were suffering, and she would do anything to help them.

***

Transporter 001

25 Miles Above Washington, D.C.

After securing their prisoner while giving him a full scan for viral infection and concealed weapons, Michael turned to Alice.

“Good catch,” he said, giving her the thumbs up.

She responded with a sour smile. “I almost peed myself,” she said while placing the container in a secure metal cylinder Max provided. “Let’s not do that again, bioweapons creep the hell out of me.”

Michael looked at the man that lay bound at their feet. “Let’s wake him up, and prepare the interrogation helmet.”

It was not a slow and gentle waking Amir al-Vasir experienced, but one of excruciating pain. Alice used a small needle and stuck it on the side of his jaw, in the same nerve cluster that usually sent toothache pain signals to the brain. It must have been very effective since the man’s eyes opened wide and his scream spread through the transporter.

“Mr. Amir al-Vasir, so nice of you to join us,” Michael said.

The man looked widely about the small craft, straining at his bonds.

“You kidnapped me! What do you want?” He answered in English, with a barely discernible accent.

“Well, you were about to kill a lot of people, so it’s somewhat self-explanatory. All the same, let us focus on the important things. Who sent you? And where are they located… we really want to know.” Michael said, sitting in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees.

Amir gave an evil smile and screamed, “Allahu Akbar!” Then immediately bit down hard on his teeth. There was a surprise on his face when the thing he expected and planned for, did not happen.

“If you’re looking for that false tooth with poison inside—don’t bother. We took the liberty of neutralizing the poison when you were brought aboard. As a consequence of you being in close contact with some extremely dangerous substances. So… will you be willing to talk now?” Michael asked.

“Rot in hell, infidel.” The man said and closed his mouth.

“Very well, have it your way,” Michael sighed.

It took no time to place the interrogation helmet on the young man’s head, and even less time for him to start talking.

Amir al-Vasir had an unusually low pain tolerance, which was surprising for a man who had no qualms about killing himself a few minutes ago. It seemed he abhorred any level of pain and very soon started begging for it to stop. His wish was granted after he promised to tell them everything they wanted to know.

He was a cousin of one of the organization leaders, and it was his uncle who sent him on this task. Amir was considerate enough to provide them with the location of his uncle, and the names of those who had planned this entire attack. It was a small Iraqi town, located near the Syrian border.

In fact, the young man was afraid that he would be sent to hell when he died because he seduced a Russian boy that they needed to help them acquire the viruses. His uncle convinced him that the only way he could redeem himself and wash that stain of his soul was to go in the devil's lair, to Washington, D.C., and take the head of the Great Satan, by releasing the virus close to the White House.

That all seemed a bit of convoluted logic to Michael, since it was his uncle who ordered him to seduce the boy in the first place; logic was obviously not a big thing with these people.

They directed their transporter toward the Middle East, carrying with them another tranquilized terrorist. Tyron placed his body on top of the Pyotr Amagov’s. They knew each other rather intimately, so he did not think they would mind.

***

USA, New York City

United Nations Headquarters

Arnold Feuer was always proud of his organizational skills. He liked when things went as planned and hated disorder to an unusual extent. That was why he was noticeably agitated by the chaos his work turned into in the last couple of days. Usually, he loved his job; it gave him a sense of importance he never experienced when he was a fitness instructor in Austria. Then, his cousin, who was an aspiring politician in the EU, got him this gig at the UN in New York City, which suited him just fine.

Being a security agent and the most important institution in the world made him feel significant, in the greater scheme of things. He was there to protect the people who governed a substantial part of the entire world.

Then the terrorists decided to spread some god-awful disease, which was all the news talked about. Even New York was hit, but he was not really alarmed by it. The news people said that the doctors and the National Guard were on top of it; collecting those that got the bug and sending them to space to be cured. It was weird and he had a hard time believing it at first, but it was not something he needed to think about; his job was to ensure the security of the United Nations.

He never was much of a thinker and liked only to deal with the things that were in front of him. Even so, the entire city looked like those videos of polluted Chinese metropolises, where everyone wore masks. His mother used to say, “better safe than sorry,” and he had always listened to her. As a precaution, he was wearing one of those surgical masks that were selling like hotcakes.

The UN headquarters has been a madhouse in recent days, and even now, he had to help prepare the building for an emergency meeting of the Council; they were supposed to discuss this health crisis.

What gave him a headache right now was an addition to the world art exhibit that was placed in the great hall. A ridiculous thing to do at this time, but there was always a chance that one of those representatives would be insulted if his country was not portrayed by some ugly piece of art. Therefore, he needed to expedite the installation as quickly as possible.

He even helped the four nice Middle Eastern men go through security checks, and then to place the sculpture on a pedestal meant for it, as it was quite heavy. They were extra careful not to damage the metal and glass ‘work of art’. Besides, he liked showing off his great strength, acquired over the years of intense training.

After they left, he stayed and looked at the sculpture, never really seeing the appeal of it. Then again, he was not big on art; dogs playing poker was more his kind of thing.

With this emergency taken care of, Arnold went to solve the next crisis; altogether, this place would turn into even greater chaos if he was not there to set things right.