Plague: A Suspense Thriller Book 34

By Roy A. Teel, Jr.

Plague is the final installment in the Iron Eagle Series. I want to thank my readers who have invested their time and energy in reading my series over the past decade.

Back
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention protects America from multiple illnesses, but the CDC also works with live and dead viruses, bacteria, fungi, and dangerous pathogens. While employed by the CDC, Dr. Daryl Hall is murdered before he can release information about a dangerous new virus to the public ... or so the CDC thinks. Just hours before his death, Dr. Hall shared his findings and a sample of the virus with the CDC’s leading pathologist – samples that had also been shared with state and federal authorities by an unknown source prepared to unleash havoc upon the world.
As FBI researchers race to eliminate the doomsday virus, John Swenson and his closest team members are suddenly forced to face past atrocities in an unraveling future where even dear friends have become foes. An unthinkable combination of science, intelligence, and madness has Swenson, O’Brian, and those that they love scrambling for safety while facing their own mortality and administering justice, possibly for the very last time.
Flap
When a laboratory owner and cutting-edge researcher creates a super virus immune to all vaccines, John Swenson, aka the Iron Eagle, must find its creator while trying to stop a global catastrophe. Lifelong alliances are called into question as a singular betrayal threatens the lives of everyone close to him. As the investigations unfold, the Eagle prepares to pass the torch to a new Eagle or perish in the process.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Narroway Press
• Release date: Nov 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781943107681

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I didn’t see any other holes, so, yeah, a single fucking shot.

The remains of Doctor Daryl Hall were on the medical examiner’s autopsy table at the Georgia Bureau of Investigations. Two doctors were examining the remains. Hall’s legs and torso were intact, but his head and neck had been completely destroyed by both the sniper’s bullet and the impact of being ejected through his car’s windshield.

There’s no definitive way to give a cause of death. The body sustained too much damage, and the head and neck exploded on impact with the truck. His internal organs were emulsified.

George Elliott, the department head entered the room and said, I heard your conversation, gentlemen. The cause of death is sudden impact trauma.

That’s what you want us to put on the death certificate and in the report?

Do either of you have any other suggestions?

Both shook their heads, and one said, That’s not a real cause of death, George, and his wife is going to know that.

It’s a real cause of death. Human head versus Peterbilt. Which one is going to win?

The semi, obviously.

Then that’s the cause of death until someone tells us otherwise.

And Doctor Hall’s widow?

I will call her and explain the situation. I’ll also speak to the detectives to see if they have any more information on the wreck. The car and truck are on the lot, and I know investigators are going over them.

Detective Howard Conner was working on Hall’s wrecked vehicle. The force of the impact had pushed the engine into the front passenger compartment, compressing the four-door sedan. The driver of the flatbed that brought in the car was standing over Howard’s shoulder.

This might’ve been a sedan, but now it’s a compact. The tow truck operator laughed as he spoke, but Howard wasn’t amused.

Two people are dead: the driver of this car and the trucker. Your job was to get the car here; my job is to determine the cause of the crash, now get the fuck out of here. The man walked away. The car had been cut apart in several locations as responders looked for additional victims, but Hall appeared to have been alone. Howard spoke into a microphone as he worked on the car. The sedan crossed three lanes of traffic and the median between north- and south-bound lanes before careening into the semi at full speed. There are no signs that the driver attempted to stop the car, no skid marks until the vehicle struck the truck. There are skull fragments and brain matter on the rear passenger seat on the driver’s side. Howard picked pieces of the debris off the leather with a pair of tweezers and placed them in an evidence bag. He was about to conclude when he saw something else. There appears to be an impact hole on the rear driver side passenger seat. He photographed the hole and discovered a single bullet. There was a projectile lodged in the rear driver’s side passenger seat. It is intact and looks to be a .308 round. I will need to run ballistics on this, but, in my experience as an expert marksman in the military, this was fired at long range using a modified Remington 700 series rifle, most likely an M40A5 with a long range, high-powered scope. This is a homicide. He called two garage techs and told them to move the car into a secure location and to tag it as evidence in a homicide investigation. As he was walking out of the area, his cellphone rang.

Howard, it’s George.

Both men had thick southern accents and knew each other very well. What’s up, George?

We are calling the Hall death an impact death.

Well, his head struck the truck after being ejected, so that would be an impact, but that’s not what killed the good doctor.

What do you have?

A sniper’s bullet with bone and brain matter on the back seat. The doctor died of an impact injury, but he was dead long before his car crossed the interstate. This is a homicide, George.

George paused, cleared his throat, and asked, Can you prove this? Conner said yes. Okay. Get me your official report.

Sure, right after I run this through ballistics. The shot was fired from a hell of a distance, so the shooter’s a pro, most likely an expert sharpshooter. The shot struck Doctor Hall in the head while his car was moving. That’s the kind of accuracy that only a person trained by the military could have pulled off.

Just a single shot?

I didn’t see any other holes, so, yeah, a single fucking shot.

Daryl’s widow Carol has been calling the office all day. I can’t tell her that he was murdered.

No, not yet. We need to keep this to ourselves until I can confirm it. In the meantime, hold off on issuing statements on the cause of death.

That’ll work for a few days, but people want to know, including the top brass at the CDC.

I understand, and I know that you and Daryl were close.

We were, and I don’t want to hold Carol up. She needs to know, and she needs to bury what remains of her husband.

I understand, but at this moment a high-ranking scientist at the CDC has been assassinated, and I need to find out why.

Doctor Jerry Cofield was sitting in his office at the medical examiner’s building in Los Angeles when he received a text. As he read it, the color ran out of his face, and he quickly called the sender. Carol, what happened?

They murdered Daryl, Jerry.

Who told you he was murdered?

No one yet, but I know he was murdered, and you’re in danger, too.

Calm down, Carol. How do you know that Daryl was murdered? Has the medical examiner given you that information?

No. The police came to the house this morning and told me that Daryl had been in a head-on collision. They don’t even know that this is a wrongful death … at least not yet. There is so much more to this, but it’s not safe to talk on the phone.

Okay, so what then?

I will find a way to contact you. In the meantime, watch your back.

Carol hung up, and Jerry looked around his office. He had a wall of windows that faced the street, and he was on the top floor of the building. He was frozen in place for a few seconds then shook his head. Pull it together, man. Why would I be in danger, and why would someone murder Daryl? He went down to the morgue where Jade and Jessica were performing an autopsy on a young man. He put on a gown and walked into the autopsy room.

Slumming, Jerry?

He laughed nervously. Yeah, Jessica. I thought I would come down to the basement and watch you two work. Jade had removed the young man’s liver and was weighing it as she spoke into the microphone over the table. Jessica was moving other organs into bowls, and Jerry looked down into the open chest and abdomen of the kid. Gunshot wound?

Yeah. Drive-by two nights ago. You want to know the irony here?

What?

This kid’s older brother was on this same table last week.

You’d think he’d have learned something.

Jade shook her head. Gangbangers never learn. This kid was out to avenge his brother’s murder and got caught in the crossfire in a failed drive-by according to LAPD.

Jerry stared down into the open carcass and said, My work is relaxing compared to what you two and your team see every single day.

Your work is equally important, Jerry. Our job is to find the cause of death; yours is to prevent it for as long as possible.

Yes, but we’re all mortal. I can find all the diseases there are and research and find treatments but sooner or later we all die.

The two women closed the kid up, and Jade said, You look upset.

A little. One of my colleagues died last night.

Oh, I’m sorry, Jerry. Local?

In Atlanta, Jade. Doctor Daryl Hall.

The head of infectious disease research at the CDC?

Yeah. Did you know him?

I know of him. Sara went to medical school with his wife Carol, so Sara knows both of them very well. Carol went on to become a general practitioner and moved to Atlanta to do her residency because she fell in love with one of her professors who was from there.

Daryl never taught out here.

I know. It was another doctor, but they broke up, and she met Daryl and fell in love.

She just called me, and she is not doing well.

What happened?

A car accident. Carol was rambling when she spoke to me.

So, there’s no cause of death?

Not yet, but she feels that this is foul play.

Car accidents can be really hard to figure out when it comes to the official cause of death. There are so many factors, and it all comes down to the condition of the body. Let me give Sara a call and then Jess and I will take you out for lunch. Jerry nodded, and Jessica invited him back to her office.

What was your friend’s name? Jessica asked.

Doctor Daryl Hall. We were friends and colleagues working for the CDC.

Did he do the same type of research you do?

Yes, he was the head of infectious diseases in Atlanta.

I thought you were the head of that.

In name only. I moved back to LA when my boys were getting ready to go to school, so I have been working out here for years. I go back every few months. After my divorce, I decided to remain here and work remotely on a consulting level. There isn’t much money in government work for researchers. The department is bleeding researchers who are leaving for the private sector. They cut their teeth at the Centers then cash in on lucrative jobs in the private sector, mostly with big pharmaceutical companies.

All praise the all-mighty dollar.

Indeed, Jessica, indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

Just come home, John. Just hurry.

Doctor Carol Hall’s medical office partners were trying to console her to no avail. I appreciate your concern, but I really just need to be alone.

Mohamed Khan had been her partner since they left their residency program nearly two decades earlier. He was a tall man with a full black beard and mustache. While thin, he was in good shape and took care of his mind and body. He was a handsome man as well, but his lifestyle ran contrary to the Islamic religion he had been raised under. As a gay man, he had been banished from the religion and the mosques. He fled Iran with his immediate family; however, his father died shortly after arriving in America, and it was just Khan and his mother, who turned her back on him when he came out as gay. His life had been threatened many times through the years, but he had found a home in Atlanta’s gay community and in the acceptance he received from Carol and their other partner, Elaine Wright. He had lost his accent over the years and was very feminine in his mannerisms and speech.

I just want you to know we’re here for you, Carol. I loved Daryl. He was a wonderful person and doctor. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.

Thank you, Mohamed. For now, I need you to take my patient load.

Elaine nodded. She had joined the practice five years after it opened. She was a strong woman and was born in Atlanta. She had a sultry voice and a deep southern accent. Although only five feet tall, her full figure, blonde hair, and deep blue eyes made her incredibly attractive. Before attending medical school, she’d even been a centerfold model, a source of controversy at the school. Although proud of her modeling days, it ultimately undermined her marriage, and she preferred to be recognized for her attributes as a physician. She remained single after her divorce, though not a day went by when a new patient knew her by her modeling reputation and not her medical one. She tried dressing down for several years, but that didn’t work, so she just went with the flow, allowing glimpses of cleavage and putting people in their place if they were too forward. Mohamed and I can handle your case load, Carol, but what are you going to do?

The less you know the better. You should know that some of my patients came to me after you refused to treat them due to bad behavior.

It won’t be a problem, Carol. It has been nearly 20 years since I modeled nude. I know how to put people in their places when I need to.

Mohamed laughed. I got thrown out of my religion for my lifestyle, yet you get pursued because of yours.

That’s not funny, Mohamed. I’m not taking my clothes off for money anymore.

It’s not what you do today that matters; for some people, it’s the things in your past that will haunt you. People bring magazines to my office asking if I can get them your autograph.

We’re here for Carol, remember? Elaine looked Carol in the eye and asked, Are you leaving the state?

Again, the less you both know the better. I’m just taking time to mourn Daryl.

Then why do you look terrified?

I’ve been awake for nearly two days, Elaine. Daryl was my life. I loved him with all my heart.

Then why leave? Your life is here. What about the funeral arrangements?

Everything is in order. I just need the two of you to take my case load. I will let you know when I will be coming back. Both agreed, and Mohamed got up as did Elaine, but Carol asked her to stay. After Mohamed left, Carol asked, You already knew, didn’t you? Elaine slowly nodded. Who did this, Elaine?

It was an accident, Carol.

What did Daryl tell you the last time you two were together?

Don’t go there, Carol.

Why not? I’ve known about the two of you for years. He wanted to marry you not me, but you rejected him. Ultimately, you were just a piece of ass, but I know he confided things in you.

We haven’t been together in nearly six months.

Don’t stand here and lie to me. I drove by your house three nights ago, and his car was parked in your driveway. I even drove by this morning, thinking he might be with you, but his car wasn’t there. What did he tell you?

Elaine began to cry. He told me that he was working on something terrifying at the lab. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. He said it was for my own protection.

Carol had tears streaming down her face. He left you a substantial sum of money in his will. Did you know that?

Yes.

Did you speak to him at all yesterday? Elaine nodded. Did you have sex with him yesterday? She nodded again. So, you were the last person he had sex with before the accident.

How could he or I have known he was going to die? It was an accident, Carol. They happen every day. There’s no way to predict something like that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.

Give me a break. You’re not sorry. You just wanted the sex. You knew you could have him, and you did.

You’re right. I was just a piece of ass to him. He never loved me.

Maybe, but now that he’s gone, your affair will get out. This is a small town, Elaine, and we are all popular doctors. Daryl didn’t take any special precautions when it came to seeing you and being seen with you. People in this city knew. Shit, the whole state knew, but that type of recognition comes with a price tag, so I’m going away.

Elaine was visibly startled. What the hell is going on?

A lot, and that’s all I’m going to say.

Howard Conner had been in the ballistics lab for nearly an hour waiting for confirmation of what he already knew. One of the technicians came out of the laboratory with the bullet and handed the evidence bag to him. I sent you the report, Howard. It’s just what you said. A.308 sniper round. We have nothing to compare it to as far as identifying a true rifle type, but it is consistent with the modified Remington rifles and the M40 class you spoke of.

Is it tapered for carry?

It’s been modified. I’ve been a munitions expert for decades. I was a sniper in Vietnam with cutting-edge sniper ammo, but I would have given my left ball to have a round like this. It’s really excellent custom work. This projectile has it all. Escape velocity that most likely pushes the supersonic barrier, and I know what you’re thinking. Supersonic ammo isn’t accurate, but this son of a bitch is unlike anything I have ever seen. I have no idea if it makes a sonic boom, but the aerodynamics of this single projectile are incredible. It’s in such good shape, too. It could be reloaded and fired again; however, in order to actually test the round, you are going to have to learn what the powder load ratio is for the cartridge. It has to be some out-of-this-world hybrid, as well as the stock assembly and the barrel assembly. This is a 100 percent hand manufactured round, and it was fired from a 100 percent custom built rifle.

Howard thanked the tech, took the report, and left the lab. When he got to his office, he held the round up to the light and stared at it through the clear evidence bag while drumming the fingers of his right hand on his desk. He heard a voice and looked up to see Carol Hall standing in his doorway.

What do you have there, Howard?

Sniper bullet from the back seat of Daryl’s car. Carol walked in, shut the door, and sat down. So … where are you going?

What makes you think I’m going somewhere?

Daryl was assassinated, Carol. This is the shot that pierced his windshield then his skull. He was dead before he knew what hit him. Someone wanted him dead but didn’t want any witnesses.

Carol was stone-faced as she responded. That sounds about right. Daryl knew his life was in danger; he told me so.

Did he tell Elaine Wright?

No.

So … where are you going?

I’m not telling a soul, Howard, but I’m leaving.

Howard put the bag on his desk. I can protect you.

No, you can’t, and you know that. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened to a CDC researcher.

This is the first time I have ever seen a projectile like this.

I find that hard to believe given your military service. You were a sniper, right?

That was a long time ago.

Well, I find it hard to believe you don’t know about the round in your hand. Besides, it’s a different killer, Howard, with different motivations, but I think this killer has killed before. When he kills, it’s meant to look like an accident. Very few are ruled homicides.

So, where are you going?

To someone who can protect me.

And who would that be? It’s not someone local, is it? Carol stood up. Her long blonde hair was in an updo. Her silky white skin and blue eyes had him off tilt, and he looked her up and down. She was dressed in a short skirt with a pair of black pumps. Her lacy top offered the slightest view of her cleavage. I will need to know where to contact you when we find the killer.

Carol laughed. You won’t find him; you’ll only get yourself killed. Besides, the killer has moved on to the next target.

What aren’t you telling me, Carol?

I have to go. Keep an eye on Elaine. She’s in danger. She doesn’t know anything, but she was the last person that Daryl was intimate with … so she most likely has a target on her back.

As she walked away, Howard yelled, Get back here! You have no idea what you’re doing. He ran after her as she disappeared into the elevator. He called down to the front lobby and ordered that she be stopped. A few minutes later he received a call saying that Carol Hall never got off the elevator, and no one knew where she had gone.

It was 8:00 p.m., and Sara Swenson was finishing up for the night at Northridge Hospital when Carol sat down in her office. When Sara finally saw her, she said, Carol! Oh my God. I have been trying to reach you all day. What happened and what are you doing here? She grabbed Carol in her arms and hugged her firmly. Why didn’t you call me? I heard the news from Jade Morgan.

Carol’s eyes filled with tears. How does Jade know about this?

Jerry told her. They work together at the medical examiner’s office.

Carol paused then said, Daryl was murdered, Sara. I’m on the run from his killer or killers, and I knew the only safe place for me was with you and John.

Sara held her tight. It’s going to be okay. Tell me all about it.

No … take me to John.

John Swenson was sitting in his new office and trying to adjust to his role as the Assistant Director in Charge of the Los Angeles Field Office of the FBI. He had been the Assistant Director to the Assistant in Charge for years, but now he had the helm of the whole operation. He had spent most of the day in the WMD lab with Sandy and Sophia dealing with the virus sample that had been received by the Bureau. He was preparing work orders for his new and old staff and making some general changes to policy for the office and agents in general. He had selected Sandy to take his old position as she already had the office running like a well-oiled machine, but her attention had been drawn away in recent days by the WMD laboratory. He was preparing memos when his cellphone rang.

Hi honey. I’m on my way home, and we have an unexpected guest. I need you to come home. It’s important. He asked what was going on, and Sara simply said, Just come home, John. Just hurry home.

Jim O’Brian was smoking outside his office. He had been working with his staff to make sure that everyone was up to speed now that the elections were over. It had been a long day, and he was winding down before one last meeting. As he sat on the smoker’s bench reading over his tablet, he received a text message from Detective Howard Conner. He read it and laughed then called him. So, what the fuck do you want?

Howard laughed. I have an issue and need your help.

You have no favors to call in with me, Howard. You’re lucky I haven’t hung up on your ass.

It’s in the past, Jim. You ran for public office; you took an oath.

I swore an oath to the people of Los Angeles County, Howard, not to you. Given your history, I’m surprised you’re not running the whole Bureau out there, you piece of shit.

I have no fuckin’ intention of ever doing so. You might like being a political figure but not me.

I’m no political figure. I’m the thorn in the side of this city and county’s elected idiots. I haven’t heard from you in … how many years?

The last time we saw each other was at Barbara’s funeral.

I remember, and I wasn’t happy to see you then.

I wish I had known about Barbara’s situation sooner. I would’ve liked to have seen her one more time. I miss her.

I miss her, too. Did you hear that Cindy and I got married?

I did, but it didn’t shock me nearly as much as when I learned that you and Barbara remarried. That blew my mind. I was sure she was done with your sorry ass forever.

What can I say? I have that effect on women.

Both men laughed hard, and Howard said, Listen, Jim, I have a case down here. Doctor Daryl Hall was murdered last night by a sniper.

Are you fucking kidding me?

No. I’m trying to piece it all together, but none of it makes sense. Carol stopped by my office this morning to tell me she was leaving town. She said she wasn’t safe and that even I couldn’t protect her.

Where did she go?

I don’t know. She just said she knew that Daryl had been murdered and that her life was in danger and that there was only one person who could protect her.

I’d love to know who that person is.

So would I.

So, what does this have to do with me?

The bullet used to kill Hall was lodged in the back seat of his car. I had ballistics run it and what came back was a sniper round that none of us has ever seen before.

And what do you need from me?

I need you to speak to Lance and Philly.

Are you out of your fucking mind? A lot happened between you three when you were their commanding officer, and I don’t know all the details.

I have nowhere else to turn. They’re the best, and I haven’t seen them since Barbara’s funeral. And if you recall, I barely made it out of there with my life.

So they harbor a damn grudge, but you can’t blame them. I know you hate fags. You had a hard-on for them and got them busted out of the Corps.

I was younger then and a hardheaded leather neck.

Maybe, but what you did to them was bullshit, and I know there is more to the story than what’s in the official file.

I have apologized to them repeatedly since leaving the Corps, but they are not forgiving men.

What you did is unforgivable. What do you want from them anyway?

I need Philly to look over the bullet and see if he can reconstruct how it would have been cased and what would be used as an accelerant. I have a projectile here that we believe can move supersonic and strike with dead-on accuracy. Philly was one of the best snipers in the Corps, and I know he packed his own ammo when he was in the field. He’s the only one who could recreate the round and perhaps even the gun.

A supersonic round, huh? That’ll definitely get Philly’s attention.

I’m hoping he might know who created the ammo. This was no slouch. The sniper was a pro and had military training, most likely Marine Corps training.

Send me the specs and the ballistics information, and I will speak to them.

I really appreciate it, Jim.

I know you do, and I know you wouldn’t call on Lance and Philly if it weren’t a life and death situation.

It’s absolutely a life and death situation, Jim, and the sooner he can look at this, the sooner I can get the answers I need or a line on a suspect.

CHAPTER THREE

You mean horrific, cruel, sadistic, and savage?

John got home just after