Page 15 of The Team (The Milvus Files #3)

EIGHT

Jay was no fool. He was a trained field medic. He had medical knowledge, experience. He knew anatomy, biology. He believed in science.

And what they were told of the bioweapon being engineered in the laboratory they were about to breach scared the shit out of him.

He couldn’t even begin to understand the complexity of it. But he knew enough.

This was an engineered form of trichothecene mycotoxin.

Essentially, a diverse group of over forty compounds produced by fungi.

Jay knew the standard variation could make people sick enough, but this was the Godzilla variation.

It would inhibit protein synthesis, impair DNA synthesis, alter cell membrane structure, eventually ceasing cellular function.

Any person or animal exposed to this toxin would eventually become a leaking bag of bones and soup.

A fucking brutal way to die .

Jay didn’t even try to understand why someone would want to engineer such a weapon, let alone use it.

And at the end of the day, the whys didn’t matter.

Not to Jay anyway.

Thinking about why people did evil shit led to trying to understand the psychological reasons, and that was a short path to sympathy.

There was no room for sympathy in this game.

Not for the bad guys, anyway.

The laboratory itself was located in the northeast pocket of Tehran and looked more like an office building Jay expected to see in Silicon Valley.

It was a massive white building and grounds, with a lot of office workers, admin staff.

Innocent civilians.

Something else Jay tried not to think about.

The laboratory was, according to intel, located in the second-level basement. It was secure personnel only and basically cut off from the rest of the facility.

The only people who should have been there were the scientists with top clearance. So, while teams Alpha One and Two locked down the lab, the Iranian military was tasked with escorting civilians out of the building and establishing a perimeter in conjunction with the local police.

They’d be arriving in the same armoured trucks they had before, marked Iranian military, but in full black tactical gear. The second basement was so secluded, anyone inside wouldn’t even know the building was being evacuated until they breached the floor.

No one in, no one out.

Ideally, no casualties, but Jay knew that wasn’t likely .

Given Gordian and Askarov more than likely wouldn’t go down quietly, or not without attempting to take as many of the Alpha teams down with them, Jay wasn’t expecting them to be taken out in handcuffs.

Rhett had said the order was alive, if possible , but the possible part of that equation was subjective as fuck.

It’d be body bags or nothing.

Jay was never part of the breach team. He was never one of the first ones through any door. He was the medic. It was his job to stay back until given the all-clear. And take down any threat that was late to the party, of course.

Same with Echo. His specialty was tech-ops.

He could access computers, satellites, and whatever; he could listen to footage and isolate sounds in his head like a freaking computer.

He could also use his weapons like the best of them, and his knife.

He’d been part of India’s 1B, and Jay had seen him in action plenty of times to know he’d more than earned his spot on the team.

Jay didn’t mind holding position on the team’s six. He’d much rather the likes of Coyote and Chen be the breach with Rhett, Yin and Giardello coming in second. The rest of the teams filed through while Jay, Echo, and Wilkins, the Alpha Two’s medic, stayed in the corridor.

When the Iranian military pulled up, civilians were understandably scared. There were the typical cries of shock and fear, voices yelling as the teams entered the building, and people running with their hands on their heads, ushered along by the military calling for quiet and calm.

Seeing a team of special ops in full gear, weapons drawn, running into the building had to be frightening.

They filed down the stairs and Jay knew the second they were through that door, Frankston or Malla would have access to the security cameras and be giving Rhett real-time intel.

Three of Alpha Two team were entering on the first basement level and two others continuing down to the third basement.

Basement one was a restricted admin floor for classified information.

They would be secured, cleared, and escorted out.

Basement three was, as intel had divulged, an archive basement.

Unmanned, only accessed by mid-level staff as required.

Frankston, Malla, or even Yixing, would open all the security doors. And, failing that, Coyote could blow a vaulted door in under fifteen seconds.

But there was no need.

“Need a key on the door,” Rhett said to HQ over their comms.

There was silence for a second. Then the access panel beeped to green as soon as they got there, and Jay heard Rhett tell Coyote and Chen to “Go, go, go.”

And they were in.

There was yelling and a few shrieks and bangs, but no weapon fire and Jay was always thankful for that.

“Where’s Gordian?” Jay heard Rhett yell.

Just then, Morley from Alpha Two spoke into Jay’s earpiece on the team’s open comm. “Basement three is all clear.”

When Jay got into the lab, he saw it was sectioned off into large white rooms with glass partitions. Lab gear filled almost every workspace; safety signs hung on walls. It was temperature-controlled and very high-tech.

Jay could see Coyote and Chen, and Yin and Azrael through the glass partitions, searching. “All clear,” they called in turn.

Rhett had three people, two men and one woman, on their knees, hands on their heads. He held his EF88, his finger on the trigger guard. “I will ask you again. Where is Askarov?”

The woman was crying, the younger man looked pale, but the older man shook his head. “He’s not here,” he said, accent thick. “He did not come today. Called sick. We are scientists. Research only. I don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“There’s a vault,” Yin called out. “Thumbprint access only.”

“Only Doctor Askarov can open it,” the scientist said quickly, as if Rhett was about to start cutting off thumbs. “We do not have access.”

Rhett looked at Echo. “Take care of that vault, but do not open the door.”

Echo raced toward Yin and Rhett turned his attention back to the scientists. “What’s in the vault?”

“I don’t know,” the man said, shaking his head, panicking. “Samples. Tests. Doctor Askarov is the only one who knows.”

“What do you know about mycotoxin-based bioweapons?”

The older man looked up at Rhett then, brow furrowed, confused, horrified, until he seemed to realise.

.. He paled and swallowed hard. “Nothing specific, I... I... we don’t.

.. we can’t make that here. Is that what you think?

Why you’re here?” He grew paler still, his mouth a thin line.

“We’re not terrorists. We’re scientists. Doctors. Research. ”

“Research on what?” Rhett asked.

“Cancer,” he said. “Specifically, how mitochondrial respiration malfunctions and increased glycolysis are observed in cancer cells and... oh.”

Then the man seemed to realise something. His mouth worked but he said nothing else, shrinking back a little.

That had Rhett’s attention. He stepped forward. “And? What else?”

“And the effect certain secondary metabolites have on biochemical and molecular mechanisms of tumour cells. It has been considered defective in mitochondrial respiration due to their dominant glycolytic metabolism, but we?—”

“What does that mean?” Rhett yelled, out of patience.

“Mycotoxins,” Jay said.

Rhett spun around. “Echo, do not open that door.” Then he spoke into his radio. “Lab is secure. Confirmed to have some kind of fungal toxins. Gonna need a hazmat team down here?—”

The older scientist shook his head. “It is safe here. There is no risk of exposure or contamination. We wear no masks. We can’t do what you want here. You need specialist equipment. We don’t have that here.”

“We don’t want it,” Rhett said. “We want to stop it. Do you understand?”

The man nodded, aghast. And for what it was worth, Jay believed him.

“Where does have the equipment to make it?” Rhett asked him. “Where could Askarov have access to that?”

Just then, the men from Alpha Two ran in. “Basements one and two are clear. Building has been cleared of all civilians.”

“Vault is unlocked but not open,” Echo called out .

“It is safe,” the older man murmured. “We would never...”

Then the woman looked up. Her face was tear-streaked, her chin wobbled. “Askarov. I hear him speak on phone,” she said, her English broken. “I not mean to hear. He not see me. He talk to I don’t know. He say Rotech.”

“What is that?” Rhett asked. “A person? A place?”

Then Yin was there. He holstered his EF88 and knelt down in front of her. He took her hand and spoke to her gently in Farsi. Jay was no expert, but he guessed Yin’s Farsi was as broken as her English, but then he looked up at Rhett.

“She says Askarov spoke of a meeting at Rotech at two?”

“Today?”

Yin spoke to the woman again, and she replied. She held up two fingers but shook her head, but Yin shook his head in return, not following. “Two...?”

The older scientist translated. “She says he said two subjects. Two test subjects. Rotech is a laboratory. Private sector laboratory that specialises in aerosol production.”

Jay’s stomach dropped, and he watched Rhett recoil as he understood as well. Yin stood up and took a step back. His eyes met Jay’s, and yeah, he understood who the two test subjects were as well.

Rhett held his finger to his ear, a telltale sign he was getting intel. Everyone watched, waiting. “Roger that,” he replied. He looked right at Jay. “Extraction zero. Kowalski and Myles were already moved to a different location.”

Fuck.