“Impossible. I can’t turn them over.”
“Why not?”
“First off…” Rukin seemed to be grasping, rationalizing. “Releasing the women will likely only empower them—show them our weakness. The chief will parade the women as a sign of his own power and our weakness—our capitulation. It gives him the momentum. And that’s just the half of it. I need those women—for… morale. They’re about the only joy I can give these men in this desolate hellhole. I’ll have a mutiny on my hands the second they pass the city walls.”
“Men can live without sex. They’ve done it before. And the chief will stop the attacks. Look, I had a mission—to secure Ceuta before Chairman Sloane arrived. I’ve given you the opportunity to do that. You can turn it down, but if horse raiders are taking pot shots at Sloane’s helicopter convoy when he arrives, you’ll have to answer for it.”
The threat to Sloane and the possibility of failing at such a crucial moment seemed to weigh on Rukin. His tone changed. “You’re certain the attacks will stop?”
“Certain.”
“How? I mean, the idea that all these attacks, for months, have been to get her back?”
“Yes. Well, actually, those attacks were just to size you up. To test the city walls. You’ve only seen a tenth of their strength. There are other camps. They’ve just been figuring out the best way to take the base. They won’t take prisoners.”
“He’d risk them all for one girl?”
“Never underestimate what a parent will do to save their child’s life.”
Rukin looked away, searching for something to say.
David preempted him. “We’re going to give the girl back, and they’re going to help us round up the other tribes. That will secure this base and give us the freedom to focus on the upcoming mission, our role in the larger Immari plan. If we’re not ready, if we’re fighting to hold our city walls… heads will roll, and it won’t be mine. I’ve completed my mission. I’ve given you a means to secure Ceuta.” David stood and began walking away. Throughout the officer’s lounge, every table was quiet, every pair of eyes focused on him and the major.
The major spoke up. “If I release the women… the daughter. You honestly think that when the chief sees what we’ve done to his daughter, that he won’t attack then and there.”
“He won’t—”
“He—”
“Made a promise to me, before his entire tribe. His honor hangs on it. He breaks his promise, even to an enemy, he loses the faith of his people. He can’t afford it. And you’re wrong. For months he prayed that he would see her again, that she wasn’t dead. He’ll be overjoyed to see her. Nothing else will matter.” David turned and walked out. “Choice is yours, Major.”
CHAPTER 45
Immari Sorting Camp
Marbella, Spain
Kate rammed the butt of the gun into the glass again, and it finally broke, sending shards into the kitchen. The noise scared the remaining people out of the dining hall, leaving her alone.
She used the edge of the gun to clear away the sharp teeth of glass along the rim of the window and then tried to reach the metal bar that Martin had put through the door handles. She stretched, felt the last remaining shards of glass biting into her arm, and reeled back. She took the gun in her hand and reached again, and she had it. She pushed hard and the iron bar fell to the ground with a loud clang.
She pushed through the doors and rushed to Martin. He was alive, but he was burning up. She held his head in her hands. Dark spots covered his cheeks. His skin was boiling.
Kate pulled his eyelids open. His eyes rolled around, revealing milky yellow where white should be. Jaundice. Liver failure. What other organs were affected?
“Martin?” Kate tried to shake him, and his breathing rate increased.
He cracked his eyes, and upon seeing Kate, drew back. He coughed violently.
What could she do for him? Kate patted him down, searching for the case that held the Orchid pills. She might as well. It was the only thing she could do, but the case wasn’t on him. He coughed again, arching his back this time. He rolled off the cabinet to lie on the floor, and Kate saw the case—behind him, lying against the cabinet.
She opened it quickly. One pill. She glanced back at Martin, who was coughing quietly on the floor. He had rationed himself, hoping he might make it a little longer.
The double doors to the kitchen flew open, and Kate reeled around. Shaw stood there, a sack in his hands. He surveyed Kate and Martin. “Ah, bloody hell.”
“Help me get him up,” Kate said, as she struggled to right Martin against the cabinet.
“He’s finished, Kate. We can’t take him out of here like this.”
Kate grabbed a bottle of water and forced Martin to take the last pill. “What was your plan?”
He threw the sack at her feet, and Kate saw that it held another Immari Army uniform.
Shaw shook his head. “I thought we could walk out of here. Maybe if he were in better shape. Immari soldiers don’t look that sick, Kate. He’d paint a target all over us.”
Martin turned his head and tried to say something, but the words came out in a jumble. The fever was consuming him. Kate used the uniform to wipe some of the sweat off of him. “If he was well, what would you do after we left this building? What’s the plan?”
“We follow the crowd—the survivors. We get on the plague barge to Ceuta, the main Immari sorting center—”
“What?! We need to get away from the Immari.”
“We can’t. There’s no way out of here. They’re burning a perimeter around the Orchid district walls—almost a half kilometer.”
Kate’s thoughts immediately went to the boys, to the couple in the old city. “Are they burning the Old Town district?”
Shaw seemed confused. “No. Just a defensive perimeter around the camp. They’re turning it into a new processing center. Anyway, by nightfall the fire will be at the walls and the plague barge will be here. It’s the only way out.”
Kate made her decision. “Then we’ll be on it.”
Shaw opened his mouth, but Kate cut him off. “I’m not asking. There’s a bag in my room. You know where that is?”
He nodded.
“Bring it to me. It has the research. Then find some…” She need to try something to slow the disease progression. Normally, for any other virus, the key would be antivirals and patience. But if this disease behaved the same way it did in 1918, Martin was undergoing an immune system overload. His own body was attacking him, much the same way autoimmune diseases behaved. “Bring some steroids.”