Paulius reached the seawall. He removed his fins, slid his arm through them and gripped the handle of his still-bagged weapon. He shrugged off his gear, bundled it and left it clamped to the wall.
He and his fire team silently climbed over the seawall and onto the paved bike path that ran alongside Lake Sh.o.r.e Drive. They donned night-vision goggles and took up covering positions, protecting the other three fire teams as those men exited the water.
Paulius ordered squad two south and squad three north, to enter the buildings nearest to Lake Sh.o.r.e Park. Those units would climb six or seven stories and set up overwatch positions.
After those men were in place, squads one and four would make their way to the park. First, they would secure the park administration building. Then, they would secure the landing area for the arrival of four CH-47 Chinooks and an SH-60 Seahawk. The Chinooks carried the Ranger company — 150 men complete with mortars, heavy weapons and supplies, as well as some scientific equipment Margaret had requested. She, Otto and Dr. Feelygood would come in on the Seahawk.
Paulius took another minute to search for danger. He saw no movement. He knew he and his men were about to roll into a mission unlike any they could have prepared for, a mission where they would probably have to fire on Americans.
From here on out, however, they weren’t “Americans.”
They were the enemy.
INFORMATION IS A WEAPON
Steve Stanton stood alone in a twentieth-floor office, looking out at the mostly dark streets of Chicago. How to find Cooper Mitch.e.l.l … that was really all that mattered at the moment. If Cooper infected any of the Chosen Ones, all Steve’s careful planning could fall apart.
A knock at his door.
“Enter.”
General Brownstone walked in, trailed by a teenage girl who was breathing so hard she could barely stand up straight. The girl had obviously sprinted hard to deliver a message.
“Speak,” Steve said.
The girl stood, laced her fingers above her head, fought to draw enough air to get out her sentences.
“Helicopters,” she said. “At Lake Sh.o.r.e Park. Five landed, soldiers got out. Two helicopters kept hovering the whole time. They looked mean.”
Steve felt a flush of excitement. Maybe he wouldn’t have to find Cooper after all — maybe the American soldiers would lead Steve right to him. Over half a million people had watched Cooper’s video. That number obviously included people in the U.S. government who wanted to use Cooper as a weapon.
General Brownstone gently patted the girl on the back. “Good work, dear. Did you count how many soldiers got out of the helicopter?”
The girl nodded, blinked. “Yeah, about a hundred and fifty.”
“A full company,” Brownstone said. “Emperor, that’s a serious force. And I’m certain the helicopters are Apaches. Considering what we know of the state of the country, this is a major allocation by the high command. Do you want me to arrange an attack?”
The Americans didn’t have troops to burn, not if the ongoing coverage by Al Jazeera was to be believed (how that network kept reporting while the others had been wiped out, Steve didn’t know: it was one of the few remaining sources for national news).
“No,” he said. “They came for Cooper. We need to see where they go. Leave the soldiers alone for now, but watch them.”
“And the Apaches?” Brownstone asked. “The Stinger missiles we acquired from the army reserve bases can destroy them.”
“Where do you have those positioned?”
“Downtown. On the tallest buildings.”
Steve thought it over. If he took out the Apaches, that would reveal too much about his strength. And, he didn’t have many Stingers to start with.
“Leave the missiles where they are for now,” he said. “Spread the word — I want everyone to stay well clear. I want these soldiers to think no one is opposing them. Once they reveal Cooper’s location, we’ll need to strike fast and strike hard. No mercy for them.”
Brownstone saluted. She led the girl out of the office.
Steve returned to his view.
Now all he had to do was wait.
THE HIGHWAYS
IMMUNIZED: 88%
NOT IMMUNIZED: 7%
UNKNOWN: 5%
FINISHED DOSES EN ROUTE: 103,883
DOSES IN PRODUCTION: 214,591
INFECTED: 4,311,000 (25,625,000)
CONVERTED: 2,950,000 (12,120,000)
DEATHS: 500,000+ (28,000,000)
Murray had to admire the Converted’s tactics.
There was no known general, no command structure to unify actions across the United States, but the Converted understood where they needed to attack in order to bring the nation to its knees. Like any good guerrilla force, their primary target seemed to be infrastructure.
Admiral Porter flipped from map to map, reading off a list of bad news.
“Highway 5 in California has severe damage north of Redding,” he said. “It’s been completely severed in several places.”
André Vogel groaned in exasperation, leaned back in his chair. “I thought we had the West Coast under control. What, exactly, are they cutting the roads with?”
“Based on intel, anything and everything,” Porter said. “Backhoes, bulldozers, piles of cars set on fire, logs, rocks, even teams of people with shovels. And Highway 5 is just the start.”
Porter changed the image on the main screen. The ticking death toll faded, replaced by a highway map of the United States. Hundreds of flashing red Xs showed where the highways were severed.