The major stood there for a moment, staring at the water, at the point where the plane debris had exploded. “Get me the chairman’s fleet. He needs to alter course.”
David and Kamau exited the command center, and David got an aerial view of the pens he had heard on his way in. They were filled with people, huddled together, packed in. There must have been two or three thousand of them. Barbarians waiting for the boatman, Rukin had said. Who could do this? David wondered.
On the way back to the residential wing, Kamau and David walked in silence. At David’s room, he motioned for Kamau to stay. “What was that?”
“An RAF squadron. We haven’t seen one in months. They tried to take the base shortly after the outbreak, before the Immari burned the city and got their air defenses in place. We thought the British were out of jet fuel.”
“Why did they drop the mines?”
“Dorian Sloane is on his way here. He’s leading the main Immari fleet north. They’re going to invade Europe. I assume the British have mined the straits to cut him off from the Mediterranean.”
“How far out is Sloane?”
“The main fleet is days away. I just read a memo that said Sloane flew up the coast and is leading a smaller, advance fleet. He’s after something. He could be here as soon as tonight.”
David nodded. Sloane. Here. Taking Ceuta before he arrived could save even more lives than David imagined—if he could kill or capture Sloane. And he had just seen the key to doing it. “What are those guns?”
“Rail guns,” Kamau said.
“Impossible.”
“They were a classified Immari Research weapons program.”
David knew the US Military had experimented with rail gun technology, but rail guns weren’t in active use. The principle problem was power. Rail guns used massive amounts of electricity to propel a projectile at hypersonic speeds—over sixty-two hundred kilometers per hour. “How do they get the power?”
“They have a special solar array, several mirror complexes near the harbor.”
“Range?”
“I’m not sure. I know that during the invasion of southern Spain they fired on targets in Marbella and even Málaga—over a hundred kilometers away.”
Incredible. The guns at Ceuta could likely destroy any fleet that approached, possibly even the entire Immari army in southern Spain. Could they use them to—
Kamau seemed to read his mind. “Even if we took the control tower, the guns cannot be pointed inside the base.”
David nodded. “Who are the horse raiders?”
“Plague survivors. Berbers. With the collapse of civilization, they have gone back to their cultural roots. Other than that, our intel is limited.”
“How many are there?”
“Unknown.”
David tried to assemble a plan. “Rukin. What’s he like?”
“Cruel. Competent.”
“Vices?”
“Only smoking and… women.”
David pulled off the tunic of his Immari uniform. The mention of women reminded David of the girl that had come to his room. Instantly his mind replaced her with a mental image of Kate. He tried to push it away, but he had to know… It was a risk, but David asked the question he had wanted to since the second he had arrived in Ceuta. “Have you seen any reports about someone named Kate Warner?”
“About a thousand. She is the most wanted person in the world.”
A current of fear went through David. He hadn’t expected that. “Wanted by whom?”
“Everyone. The Immari, the Orchid Alliance.”
“Suspected whereabouts?”
“The Immari doesn’t know. Or at least, we haven’t been briefed.”
David nodded. She might still be alive. He hoped she was in hiding somewhere far away, out of reach of the Immari. Even if he went looking for her, he would likely never find her. And he had a job to do here. “Okay, I want you to get me some civilian clothes. And the best horse you can find.”
CHAPTER 40
Plague Barge Destiny
Mediterranean Sea
The captain turned to the two men. “We’re clear. You can begin. And see if Dr. Chang and Dr. Janus have any bodies to dispose of.”
The older of the two men nodded and they left the ship’s bridge.
Below deck, they began strapping on the suits they wore each time.
“You ever think about what we’re doing?” the younger man asked.
“I try not to.”
“You think it’s wrong?”
The older man glanced up at him.
“They’re people, they’re just sick.”
“Are they? Are you a scientist? I’m not. Janitors don’t get paid to think.”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t do that. Don’t overthink this thing. You’ve got my back out there. My life is in your hands. You overthink what we’re doing and you could get us both killed. And most importantly, you could get me killed. If the freaks on the deck don’t get us, the lunatics in the control room will. We’ve got one chance here: we do our job. So shut up and suit up.”
The younger man looked away, then resumed attaching tape to his suit, occasionally glancing at the older man.
“What did you do before the plague?”