Markman watched the morning news with angst. The world was at war, but the world did not know. As fighting went on in secret underground battlefields, people continued their daily routine, completely unaware. There was nothing in any of the media, but sooner or later that had to change.
Pounding thunderstorms added to the uneasiness in the Cassell household. Low hanging, dark clouds seemed ready to spawn tornadoes. The weather would prevent the plan for a run to the nearby pharmacy to pick up secret medications. The smell of breakfast made Markman forget for the moment. He tracked the irresistible aroma to the kitchen where Cassiopia slid a plate of food to his end of the table. He sat, picked up the fork and was about to take that first, incomparable bite when she tossed the day’s newspaper to him. Markman glanced at the local section and froze. His eyes locked on a side article at the bottom of the page.
Windmere Woman Claims Angel Saved Husband.
Mrs. Joyce Robinson has reason to celebrate. Earlier in the week, her husband Charles, 68 years old, was unexpectedly diagnosed with atherosclerosis, more familiar to most of us as blockage of the arteries. He was scheduled for emergency surgery the following morning. That evening, as Robinson helped her husband to the car for the ride to the hospital, he collapsed in the driveway. Fearing the worst, she ran inside to phone for an ambulance. From that point, her story takes a very bizarre twist. Robinson claims that upon returning to her husband, she spotted a strange, hooded figure bending over him. Upon seeing her, the mysterious figure ran away and disappeared into the evening fog. Robinson found her husband awake and alert. He was rushed by ambulance to the emergency room where tests revealed no arterial blockages of any kind. A comparison of Mr. Robinson’s early scans to the most recent did seem to show blockages in four arteries had apparently vanished. A further review is being conducted by hospital staff. Mr. Robinson was given a clean bill of health and released. His attending physician had no explanation for the sudden change in the patient’s condition and declined further comment, leaving Mrs. Robinson to insist, an angel had saved her husband.
Markman stared at the article, stunned. He glanced up at Cassiopia to see if he had attracted her attention. She sat gazing down into her teacup with the same sleepy look on her face. He cautiously slid the paper's local section off the table and tucked it under one leg, planning to dispose of it at the first opportunity. He sipped his coffee and stared across the table at his beautiful fiancé, the last person in the world he wished to deceive. As the guilt welled up, the sound of his cell phone interrupted. It was John Paul. Cassiopia looked up and listened.
“Yes sir,” answered Markman.
“Some difficult news, Scott.”
“Go ahead.”
“There’s been another casualty with the Delta Team. You’re an honorary member; I thought you should know.”
“Oh, man. What happened?”
“It’s pretty ugly. There are dozens of airlifts going on around the clock. Delta team was sent to Kings Bay last night to oversee the transfer of tomahawks, the nuclear type. It was supposed to be an easy non-combat mission for them to give them a break from the action. Overnight, their Airbus A400 experienced fuel contamination. It lost power in all four engines. They got partial power back on one engine, but the aircraft was still too heavy to fly. Checqe ordered the team to bail, but one person needed to stay with the tomahawks. That was Checqe. The aircraft broke up badly on impact. Several containment vessels were compromised. Checqe survived with injuries, but he was in the middle of it. The CBRN specialists can clean up the farmer’s field, but not Checqe. He got a big dose. It’s a mess.”
“This really sucks, John Paul.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Can’t your lab save him?”
“We can repair and replace damaged tissue, but we cannot remove the billions of radioactive particles from his body. So, we can keep him alive in stasis for a limited time, but we can’t cure him.”
“How long does he have?”
“Once released from stasis, he can only survive an unpleasant day or so. Later today he will be sent to the Veteran’s Hospital in Pensacola. He has two family members who belong to our agency there. They will take care of the arrangements.”
“I’d like to see him. I owe him.”
“He won’t know you’re there, but that would still be a good thing. I’ll make sure you are cleared at the hospital.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll pass this on to Cassiopia.”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of this.”
“How are we doing with the war?”
“Too many battles in progress around the world to count. So far, we are holding our own. It is far from certain we will be able to maintain status quo. One of the New York Salantians that escaped made it to the surface and was seen by a dozen or so people before a team took it out. Expect a photo in the tabloids. Otherwise, there has been no exposure in the U.S. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll keep in touch one way or another.”
“Thanks, John Paul.”
Cassiopia’s expression had already turned to one of sympathy. “I can tell what was said. I just don’t know who.”
“Commander Checqe.”
“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. His team must be devastated.”
“I want to go see him. You want to come along?”
“Where is he?”
“Being moved to Pensacola today. I’ll take Core. It’d be an easy ride.”
“Yes, of course I want to go. Whenever you’re ready.”
On the road, Markman devised his plan. It would be easy to get a few moments alone with Checqe. The question was, would it work? Could his healing powers affect radiation? Either way, he had to try. He couldn’t spend life wondering if Checqe could have been saved. In the tunnels, when the battle had been at its worst, Checqe had moved forward into the fire to stand toe to toe with him. It was possible that had saved his life. He owed Checqe. He would have to try. Afterward, there would be problems. Maybe he could adapt.
“How have you been feeling?” he asked Cassiopia
“Fine, just fine. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been a little light-headed lately.”
“Do you want me to drive?”
“No, I love driving. I may be getting a touch of the flu or something. Maybe the injury to my hand weakened my immunity or something. I’m hoping I can shake it off.”
Cassiopia felt Markman’s forehead. “I don’t feel any temperature. You tell me if it gets worse, okay? You may have got an all clear from the doctors, but not from me.”
“Okay.”
At the hospital, they were informed the patient had not yet arrived. There would be an hour or two required to check him in. Markman reminded the people behind the nurse’s station that his friend might not have that long. They promised to hurry the process along.
An hour later, Checqe was set up in the ICU in a glass enclosed room away from other patients, a minimum of bio-sensors, just enough to tell he was still alive. Markman and Cassiopia were briefed by the attending physician to visit with care. The patient’s relatives were expected at any time.
Within the ICU room, the seriousness of Checqe’s condition was easily apparent. Faint red spots on his face suggested radiation burns. His eyes were opening and shutting but were glazed over. Cassiopia looked at Markman sorrowfully. She shook her head and placed a hand gently on Checqe’s arm. Markman came up beside her and quietly asked, “Could I have a moment alone with him. There are some personal things I’d like to say.”
“I’m sorry, Scott. This must be so difficult. I’ll wait for you in the waiting room.” With a final shake of her head, Cassiopia left.
Markman looked out into the nurses monitoring area, trying not to appear suspicious. Time was short. He could be run out by the relatives at any moment. He went to the right-hand side of the bed and pretended to place a hand on Checqe’s arm. A nurse outside suddenly hurried up to the nurse’s station and summoned her coworkers to anoth
er treatment room. As soon as they were out of sight, Markman made his move. He pressed his right hand against Checqe’s chest and closed his eyes. The effect was explosive. Power surged through Markman’s hand and into Checqe’s body. The flow of current was so great it hurt. Markman had to brace himself not to pull his hand away. A split second later the drain kicked in. He could feel life flowing out of him. There was something different this time, as well. The passage of healing energy was tingling with pain, like a static electricity shock. It was burning the right side of Markman’s neck, down his arm, and through his hand. The world began to spin. His knees became weak, almost unable to bear his weight. He fought the urge to pull away and save himself. His ears began to ring loudly. The world slowly shrunk down into a small circle of light. There was a flash and everything went dark.
A drone of voices slowly brought him back to consciousness. Someone was complaining that BP was too low to get a reading. Another panicky voice was saying pulse was too faint to count. Pushing and shoving was going on. A pillow was pushed in under the head. There was a clicking noise like wheels on the floor, then more pushing and shoving. Pain in the left arm as a needle was inserted. Darkness.
The next episode of consciousness found only the quiet hum of machines and air conditioning. Peaceful, quiet sleep followed.
Markman awoke to the sound of opera. A television was mounted at the foot of the bed near the ceiling. He turned his head and found Cassiopia sleeping in a chair next to him. An intravenous tube ran from his left arm up to a bag of clear fluid hanging from a stand.
“Cass?”
Cassiopia stirred.
“Cassiopia….”
Her eyes fluttered open and took a few second to focus. “Scott? Thank goodness! Finally!” Cassiopia rose from her seat and stood over him. She placed one hand on his chest and gave a sigh of frustration. “How do you feel?”
“What happened?”
“You collapsed next to Commander Checqe’s bed. You had almost no pulse. You scared me half to death. You’ve got to stop doing that! How do you feel?”
“Okay. It must have been the flu or something. I feel just fine now.”
“Well, you certainly weren’t fine to start with. You scared everyone.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Two days!”
“Two days? Are you kidding?”
“At first we didn’t know what to think, but after they ran the tests the doctors said they couldn’t find anything wrong. They said you were just exhausted and must not have been getting enough rest. They gave you an IV to hydrate and relax you and told me to keep you here so they could make sure they hadn’t missed something. It’s been crazy around here ever since the thing with Commander Checqe.”
“Commander Checqe? Did he...?”
“Did he die? No! That’s the thing. The toxicity of the radiation suddenly decreased and somehow his body started ridding itself of it. No one has ever seen anything like it. They are all baffled. The Commander is even sitting up now and talking. Some of the nurses say it’s a miracle.”
“Wow!”
“Yes, it makes me wonder if somehow what happened to him is connected to what happened to you. Maybe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time when a real miracle happened.”
“I don’t remember anything. The world just seemed to turn off.”
“Well, the doctors said if they didn’t find anything by the time you woke up, they’d release you, so we can probably go home as soon as they check you over.”
“I’m starving.”
“That’s the Scott Markman I know. I’ll go tell the nurse you’ve returned to Earth, and get you something. John Paul was here, of course. He said to consider yourself on paid leave and if he catches you working on anything he’ll lock you up.”
“He’d do it, too.”
Markman thought of arguing another night in the hospital, but with a narrow look from Cassiopia quickly decided against it. In the morning, he was allowed a quick reunion with a surprisingly alert Commander Checqe before being released to Cassiopia’s care. He was wheeled down to the parking area where she waited with Core. The ride home became a quiet prelude to finding some sense of normality.
Markman asked, “So what did I miss in those two days?”
“Many things.” Cassiopia’s ivory hair tangled in the wind. The collar of her purple blazer flapped at her chin as the countryside raced by. Any cooler and Core’s top would need to go back up.
“Such as?” asked Markman, annoyed by the tease.
“A large northern section of Iran has been quarantined. They are selling it as a possible Ebola outbreak, but you and I know what’s really going on.”
“Iran was one of the ones that refused to join the coalition.”
“Yes.”
“How bad is it there? Has John Paul told you?”
“A little bit. I’ve been too busy trying to bring you back to life again.”
“What else?”
“Pictures of one of the spidermen went from the tabloids onto the internet. It was the last of the New York escapees. It was eliminated quickly. Now the image has been photoshopped into a dozen different places, so it’s been no problem for John Paul’s group to ignore the exposure.”
“How many vortports?”
“I did get that from John Paul. One hundred and thirty.”
“My God. Are we holding them back?”
“Yes, and there’s almost nothing on the news about what’s really happening. But, there are dozens of emails, texts, and other social network entries from soldiers that talk about fighting monsters that look like giant spiders. The rumor mills are running at full, but the news outlets aren’t saying a word about it. They just keep sticking to the cover stories.”
“But we’re holding you said, right?”
“Yes, and not only that, according to John Paul our resources remain strong. We are in control of the invasion, so far. Tens of thousands of invaders have been destroyed with minimal impact to our society.”
“God, that’s scary.”
“Which thing is?”
“You sound like a politician with the minimal impact to society thing.”
Cassiopia flashed an angry stare. “It scares me what’s going on, Scott. There’s no way to win. It’s either kill or be killed. It’s a nightmare.”
Markman reached out and placed on hand on Cassiopia’s shoulder. “You’re right. I’m sorry I said that.”
“It scares the hell out of me.”
“Were you there at the hospital the whole two days?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t so bad. The doctors kept reassuring me you were okay and just resting and regaining strength.”
“It must’ve been a delayed reaction or something. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“It better not, Mister. You were released on my cognizance. I’m watching you.”
Markman leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Well, you’d better stay close then.”
“Count on it.”
Chapter 22
Two weeks of convalescence around the house did little to ease the tension in the Cassell household. Markman sat in the kitchen staring at the latest headlines, shaking his head in disbelief.
CHINA INVADES NORTH KOREA
Claims border incursions
Rumors of battlefield nuclear weapons said to be unsubstantiated