Silent Night

FORTY FIVE

Shepherd’s sudden and unexplained departure meant Archer was left alone with the two doctors. As the echoes of the engine of Shepherd’s Ford disappeared into the night, Archer turned and walked back towards the medical pair, shaking his head.

‘What was that about?’ Kruger asked.

‘I’ve got no idea.’

He glanced at the time on his watch. 1:16 am. It had been one hell of a day and it sure as hell wasn’t over yet.

‘So many of us dead,’ Maddy said, looking up at the burning building. ‘All those people up there. Dad, Will and now Frankie.’

She shook her head.

‘What the hell was he doing here?’

‘They must have kidnapped him,’ Archer said.

‘But why?’

‘I don’t know. Did you get a look at the equipment upstairs?’

They both nodded.

‘Much of it was the same as ours,’ Kruger said. ‘Frankie was also a virologist. He worked with me.’

He paused.

‘What?’ Archer asked, seeing the look on his face.

‘There was something else up there too,’ Kruger said. ‘I saw it inside the lab just before the big detective was locked inside.’

‘What was it?’

‘There was a canister at the back of the room near the explosives. I’ve seen them before in South Africa. I recognised the design and the sticker on the side.’

‘So?’

‘They hold pesticides.’

‘Pesticides?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where would you get that from?’

‘I guess you’d order it.’

‘Or steal it,’ Maddy said.

Archer thought back to what Shepherd said. Wicks was behind the wheel of the van at the campsite. Not Rourke. Not Sway. Not Drexler.

So where the hell were they?

Archer pulled his cell, dialling Rach.

‘Hello?’

‘Rach, it’s Archer.’

‘I heard about Jorgensen. I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah. Me too.’ Pause. ‘But listen. I’m still here in New Jersey. We found the last doctor from Dr Flood’s lab here. The virus had killed him. I think Rourke and Sway kidnapped him and him working on something.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know. But Dr Kruger saw an empty can of pesticide. I need you to check something out.’



Five miles away, the CTB Ford Explorer roared down the street, Shepherd with his foot all the way down. He was holding the wheel with one hand and gripping his cell phone with the other.

‘Talk to me, buddy,’ he said, turning a hard right.

‘I heard someone outside,’ his son Mark whispered. ‘He’s in the house, Dad.’

‘Did you see him?’

‘He was tall, lanky. Weird haircut.’

Shepherd paled.

Finn Sway.

‘I heard Mum fighting with him. I think he must have knocked her out. It’s all gone quiet. Wait.’

Shepherd listened in helpless agony, pushing his foot down all the way, the car hurtling towards his neighbourhood.

‘I think he’s coming upstairs,’ Mark whispered, even quieter.

Shepherd listened.

Then the call went dead.



‘I just checked tonight’s reports,’ Rach told Archer. ‘Not much happening in the area. Most of the action is where you are.’

‘There must be something.’

‘Hang on.’ Pause. ‘Most of its minor charges; alcohol, fighting in the street. Someone got shot in Newark. No surprise there. That’s about it. The biggest is the shooting and a missing persons report.’

‘A missing person?’

‘Man called Doug Craig. Seventy two years old. Wife said he was out working on their farm, but disappeared some time earlier in the day. She’s looked everywhere but can’t find him. Jersey State PD are looking into it.’

‘Where was this?’

‘A farm twelve miles from you.’

‘A farm?’ Archer repeated.

‘Yes.’

Pesticide.

‘It might not be anything.’

‘But it could be something. Send me the address.’

He ended the call, then realised they had no car. He looked around for a vehicle. He couldn’t borrow the fire truck.

Then he saw all the employee cars parked in the lot. One of them was a Mercedes that caught his eye. He moved towards it, trying the handle. It was locked. He pulled his Sig, reversing the weapon and smashed the window. It took three goes, but it went and the alarm started blaring. Some of the fire-crew turned, but Archer raised his badge and they turned back to the fire. The alarm wailing, he released the lock and pulled open the door then used a trick employed by so many people he’d arrested in the past. He hot-wired the vehicle. The alarm died and the engine fired. He finished twisting the two wires under the panel into place as Kruger and Maddy watched.

He waved them over and they ran towards him, both climbing into the Mercedes to join him.



A hundred yards from the neo-Nazi campsite, Marquez had pulled up to a halt beside Hendricks teams’ vehicles, parking behind a series of thick trees. She’d grabbed a Mossberg and a box of shells from the trunk, shutting the lid quietly and had moved up through the trees to join Hendricks and his team who were crouched down behind a boulder, peering around at the campsite below.

Hendricks turned and saw her arrive. He didn’t know her name but recognised her as one of Shep’s people, which meant she was good.

‘Evening,’ he whispered.

She didn’t respond, looking down at the campsite. She saw a ragged circle of gang members surrounding a large bonfire. Many of them had weapons ready to hand. To the right, she saw the white van mentioned in the call, the bleach-haired man called Wicks standing beside it and talking with several other members.

‘What’s the situation?’

‘They’ve been going all night so far. Drinking, partying. Few of them went off screwing. But that van just turned up. We think the virus could be inside.’

Hendricks paused, realising the woman was alone.

‘Where’s the rest of your team?’

Marquez didn’t respond.

She knelt down beside him and loaded her Mossberg, sliding red shells into the magazine chamber quietly. He watched her. Something was wrong, but this wasn’t the time to ask questions. The woman slid a last shell into the weapon, then looked down at the camp.

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘We wait on confirmation from ATF that the virus is inside the van. If it is, we move in.’

He paused.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Marquez.’