Page 94 of Deadly Strain
“The same General Stone who is enroute to FOB Bostick?” she asked. “To straighten out the communication mess between me, Max, Marshall, and the Special Forces?”
“He’s there now,” Falcon said. “Arrived about two hours ago if he kept to his schedule.”
“And what would his first priority be once he got there?” Grace asked.
“He’d send more men to reinforce our military presence at the village,” Falcon responded.
“And if a bunch of our allied soldiers just happened to disappear? What would he do?”
“He’d send out search-and-rescue.”
“Holy shit,” Sharp said, staring at Grace like he’d never seen her before. “You think Bostick is going to be the next anthrax target.”
Max stopped pretending to work and walked up to the plastic wall separating him from the rest of the cave. He stared at Grace with a horrified expression. “What better way to demoralize our troops than to take out a large number, along with their commanding officer?”
“It makes sense. Sick sense, but still...” Falcon said.
“Grace,” Max ordered. “You need to take your men and few of mine, go to Bostick to either stop that attack or get everyone out. General Stone will listen to you.”
“I thought I was too sick?” she asked. Either she was useful or not. This business of being around only when someone wanted her did not sit well with her.
“Youaretoo sick, but you’re the only one with the knowledge to convince General Stone, and I think, to talk Marshall off of the ledge he’s put himself on.”
“Marshall tried to kill her and the rest of us. Why the hell would you want to help him?” Sharp demanded.
“Because he’s a victim, just like the rest of us. Right now, he’s in a place where the pain is constant and he can’t see a way out. He’s not thinking clearly,” Max replied. He glanced at Grace again. “I think Dr. Samuels can patch up some of those wounds, if she’s given a chance.”
“So, you know what caused his—” she searched for the right word to describe Marshall’s behavior “—fury?”
“I haven’t come right out and asked him, but I did do a more thorough look into all of the personnel present two years ago,” Max said.
“I wish I had done that before I went to Bostick,” she said. “I would have dealt with him differently. I don’t think I can salvage the situation.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sharp asked her and Max, his voice a cool growl that made her wince.
“It’s a long story,” Grace said, “but the short version is, Marshall blames me for the death of his son. And—” she took in a deep breath “—he might be right.”
Everyone stared at her for a long moment.
“Bullshit,” Smoke said, the word slicing through the silence.
“Smoke’s right,” Sharp said. “There’s no way. You’re one of those people who wouldn’t think twice about throwing themselves on a grenade to save someone else.”
“Two years ago,” Hernandez said, joining the conversation for the first time, “when you earned your Star?”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything further.
“She saved two men who were bleeding out and shot two extremists who were taking turns shooting anyone who moved,” Max said. “What most people don’t know is that she was also shot during the event.”
“It was just a scratch,” she said, her teeth clenched so tight together her jaw hurt. “And I’m no hero, I was doing my job. If I could give that medal back, I would.”
She turned to Max. “What should we do?”
He glanced behind him at the equipment. “I’ve started the sensitivity testing and it’s got to cook for at least several hours. I can’t go, but you can.”
Sharp pushed his way between Grace and the plastic wall Max was behind.
Was he trying to protect her?
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