The Atlantis Plague (The Origin Mystery, #2)

Kate was tired of waiting for Shaw. She rolled off the bunk. She needed to get to the surface to make a call. She glanced at Martin. She couldn’t leave him here. She pulled him up and helped him to the door. She opened it and looked out. The corridor was clear.

They made their way to the tiny doors for the elevator. Kate hit the up button, and the elevator dinged and opened a few seconds later, revealing a cramped compartment. What floor to hit? Kate pressed the button for level one and waited.

The doors parted. Two men in white coats, doctors she assumed, stood before her, holding clipboards, discussing something.

One was Chinese, the other was European. The Chinese doctor stepped forward, cocked his head, and said, “Dr. Grey?”

Kate froze. She was halfway off the elevator. She considered going back, but the Chinese doctor closed the distance quickly. The European was close behind him. “You know this man?” he asked.

Martin was still listless, but he looked up. “Chang…” he voice was soft, barely audible.

Kate’s heart raced.

“I…” Chang began. He turned to his colleague. “I used to work with this man. He’s… a fellow Immari researcher.” He looked at Kate for a moment. “Bring him.”

Kate glanced down the corridor to her left and right. Guards loitered at each end.

She was trapped. Chang was walking down the narrow hallway directly ahead, and the European scientist was staring at her, his head cocked. Kate fell in behind Chang.

The hallway opened onto a large kitchen that had been converted to a research facility. The steel tables had been transformed into makeshift operating tables. It vaguely reminded Kate of the kitchen in the Orchid District, where Martin had told her the truth about the plague in the attached office.

“Help me get him onto the table,” Chang said.

The European stepped closer to examine Martin.

Martin slowly turned his head to look at Kate. There was no expression, and he said nothing.

Chang stepped between the other scientist and Kate and Martin. “If you could… give us a moment. I need to talk with them.”

When he had left, Chang turned to Kate. “You’re Kate Warner, aren’t you?”

Kate hesitated. The fact that he suspected it and hadn’t turned her in… she thought she could trust him. “Yes.” She nodded to Martin. “Can you help him?”

“I doubt it.” Chang opened a steel cabinet and took out a syringe. “But I can try.”

“What is that?”

“Something we’ve been working on. The Immari version of Orchid. It’s still experimental, and it doesn’t work for everyone.” He focused on Kate. “It could kill him. Or it could give him a few more days. Do you want me to administer it?”

Kate glanced down at Martin, at his dying body. She nodded.

Chang stepped forward and injected him. He glanced at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.

“Nothing…” Chang murmured as he focused on Martin.





CHAPTER 51


Immari Operations Base at Ceuta

Northern Morocco


David stared at the eleven men who stood around the armory room. “Gentlemen, I’m not here to give you a speech. Our cause is lost. But it is just. This base is the gate to Hell and the world the Immari seek to build. If we destroy it, we can give the people of Europe a fighting chance. However… we are outnumbered, outgunned, and sitting in the heart of enemy territory. We have three things: the element of surprise, the will to fight, and a righteous cause. If we see morning, we will win. Tonight will determine our fate and that of millions of others. Fight hard and don’t fear death. There are far worse things in life—one being living a life you aren’t proud of.”

He nodded to Kamau, who stepped forward and began issuing orders to each man.

Shortly after the tall African finished, the radio in the corner crackled and pierced the silence. “Fire purges everything.”

“It’s time,” David said.





David and Kamau ascended the catwalk with three of their men. The operations center for the base sat at the top of the tower, at the center of the citadel, far away from the walls, safe from any attackers but high enough to see exactly what was going on with a naked eye—or better yet, binoculars. It was smart. The base commanders didn’t want to rely on cameras, surveillance, and field reports—they could all fail or be compromised. They wanted to see the fight with their own eyes.

David paused at the landing and clicked the flashlight into the night, sending the signal to the regiments of Berber soldiers waiting beyond the far wall.

When the last flash faded from the light, he resumed his climb to the top, his men following closely behind him. The room at the top of the tower was as he remembered it: a mix of an air traffic control center and the bridge of a battleship. Four operations officers sat at control stations, staring at banks of flat-screen monitors, occasionally typing. A pot of coffee brewed in the corner.