Carrion Virus (Book 2): The Athena Protocol by M.W. Duncan

The outbreak in Aberdeen, we were containing it in the basement of the DSD building. Someone or some people deliberately opened the containment facility and liberated several hundred infected. Somehow they falsified the electronic signature to my name. I’m being blamed. Framed and blamed.”
    “What?”
    “It’s true.”
    “You’ve been drinking, Eugene. Are you imagining things?”
    “Peterson, the regional director of the DSD at the time had a part in it, others too, I’m sure. The sudden release caused the loss of a great number of military and Black Aquila personnel. You see, I lost hundreds of people on that night. Probably thousands.” The sensation of a tear on his cheek surprised him. He was not an emotional person. He gulped from his glass. “I had no part in the deception or sabotage. I’ve only ever wanted to help people, to save them. Williamson believed in me enough to place me here so I could continue to be of some benefit. I receive his protection from prosecution in return for my continued work. I know what we’re doing here is immoral, evil even. So it’s useless lecturing me. I convinced myself that the end result would be worth it, even repeated it like a mantra. But, I see the horror in your eyes, and that reminds me that all my lies simply fortify my denial. What we’re doing is wrong. There is no research being conducted to heal these people. The only solution left is to kill them, slay them like beasts.”
    “So why not leave? Why not call Williamson and tell him what’s going on here? Get out now?”
    A hiccup erupted. And then another. “Oh, do pardon me, Jane.” Holden held his breath for a few seconds. “You’ve felt it here, perhaps you’ve never admitted such, but we’re prisoners.”
    Jane’s eyes went wide. “No.”
    “You’ve met Hyde, that odious little man. He’s our jailer. I’ve not worked out the ins and outs yet. I’m not sure in what capacity he is employed. Does he report to Williamson? I’m not sure. I’d like to think he doesn’t. So, you see, my dear lady, we’re stuck here. The Black Aquila guards say little and remain professional. I’ve no doubt that if one of us stopped cooperating they would involve themselves with their considerable cloud. As much as I’d like to leave, to go back to something simpler, we can’t.”
    He drained the last of his wine and coughed heavily. It didn’t go down too well.
    Jane’s look of surprise was replaced with one of defiance. “I won’t be a prisoner.”
    “These are dangerous and unusual times.” Another hiccup. “We survive only as long as our usefulness remains intact. You jeopardise that and you might not live to see it.”
    Holden’s vision swam. He placed a hand to his forehead. “I believe I may have drunk a little too much.”
    “I think you may be right.” Jane crossed over to him. “Let’s get you to bed, Eugene.”
    She wrapped an arm around him and pulled him from the seat.
    The small, plain single bed almost filled the tiny bedroom. Holden sat down on the bed with a bump. Jane knelt down and removed his shoes. She swung his legs into the bed.
    “I’m a professor. My research is respected throughout the world. I should be doing this myself.”
    “You’re a drunk professor, and I’m a nurse. I’ve gotten a lot of people ready for bed, you know?”
    He felt the covers being pulled up to his chin.
    “Sleep well, Eugene. Tomorrow, we’re going to plan how to get out of here.”
     
    ***
     
    Gemma remained silent. A procession of refugees skulked into the hotel lobby. Men, women and children, all frightened, clutching their meagre possessions. They kept their eyes down. Children huddled close to parents. Some alone, wept. Who knew what horrors they’d endured before reaching the safety of the displacement centres and the watchful eyes of the CAF? Gemma knew all too well.
    It was a slow procedure. All identifications needed to be checked and double checked before rooms were