about the guests.” Maggie’s heart skipped then thudded and her muscles clenched. To GRID, the Olympians would merely be collateral damage. Targeting and killing Special Forces members—the same Special Forces that dogged GRID members and activities worldwide—would be payback. “Did you make an appeal to their commander?”
“General Foster, yes,” she said. “He won’t budge on a potential attack, even if it’s a credible one.”
Maggie frowned, stared at the No Exit sign on the door at the end of the hall. “Neither will the store owners. They voted to stay open.”
“Well, unlike the store owners, if needed, these guys will back us up.”
“Well, there is that.” Unfortunately the Special Forces members would feel they had reputations to protect—as well as their families—and under no circumstances would they back down to GRID. Not on a known attack, much less on a potential one. “How did you know about them and the Olympians?” Maggie asked. “Did Darcy get in an intel update?”
“No, Maggie.” Colonel Drake’s voice held dread. “I read it in the newspaper.”
And yet another hit. They were coming so fast and furious this situation should qualify as a slugfest. “In the newspaper?” So Kunz likely had read it, too. “Have Darcy add this new information and appeal to headquarters for a shutdown order.”
“Will do. But don’t expect much.”
“I don’t.” HQ would likely see Special Forces being on-site as a plus, an enhanced shot at capturing Kunz. “But I want the request on record.”
“Excellent move.”
“Thanks, Colonel.”
Justin smiled at Maggie for no apparent reason, and in a foul mood, she lifted her chin in his general direction and ended the call.
After updating Justin and Will, Maggie needed a minute to assimilate the new wrinkle. “Excuse me,” she told Justin and Will. “I’ll be right back.” She took refuge in the women’s rest room on the left off the little alcove.
How in hell was she going to pull off a successful defense of this place? Stepping over to the sink, she washed her hands with scalding hot water and looked into her own eyes in the mirror. She had reluctant retailers in the largest mall in the south, an unknown number of potential GRID attackers cutting loose a lethal virus on Special Forces, their families and Special Olympians and, no doubt their families, and the general public.
She had minimal intelligence, minimal and reluctant cooperation with mall management—Barone was good forlip service and Will Stanton was hamstrung—and minimal medical backup. Local authorities couldn’t be activated and called up unless Homeland Security issued an authorization, and by the time it did, the assist would be too late to be of help.
If GRID did attack and release the virus at Santa Bella, there was no way Justin Crowe could be on all three levels, vaccinating everyone within two minutes. Special Forces were medically field trained and could assist with that, but even with their assistance, the person-to-person ratio was too low to be successful with a two-minute-injection window. And the antidote hadn’t yet been field tested, which meant there could be a significant number and types of unexpected reactions to it.
Feeling overwhelmed, Maggie gave herself a mental shake, dried her hands, then walked back out into the narrow hallway. Justin stood waiting for her, and if the worry lining his face accurately indicated his mind-set, he’d been doing the same analysis as she and had come to the same grim conclusion.
Their mission odds were a shade shy of impossible.
“Maggie?”
“Yes, Justin.” The next thirty-six hours were going to be too intense to stand on formality.
“In your personal opinion, based on all your experience, what are the odds GRID will attack this mall?”
Maggie leaned her shoulder against the creamy wall. “Based on all we know, without Special Forces being present here, I’d have put the odds at about
“General Foster, yes,” she said. “He won’t budge on a potential attack, even if it’s a credible one.”
Maggie frowned, stared at the No Exit sign on the door at the end of the hall. “Neither will the store owners. They voted to stay open.”
“Well, unlike the store owners, if needed, these guys will back us up.”
“Well, there is that.” Unfortunately the Special Forces members would feel they had reputations to protect—as well as their families—and under no circumstances would they back down to GRID. Not on a known attack, much less on a potential one. “How did you know about them and the Olympians?” Maggie asked. “Did Darcy get in an intel update?”
“No, Maggie.” Colonel Drake’s voice held dread. “I read it in the newspaper.”
And yet another hit. They were coming so fast and furious this situation should qualify as a slugfest. “In the newspaper?” So Kunz likely had read it, too. “Have Darcy add this new information and appeal to headquarters for a shutdown order.”
“Will do. But don’t expect much.”
“I don’t.” HQ would likely see Special Forces being on-site as a plus, an enhanced shot at capturing Kunz. “But I want the request on record.”
“Excellent move.”
“Thanks, Colonel.”
Justin smiled at Maggie for no apparent reason, and in a foul mood, she lifted her chin in his general direction and ended the call.
After updating Justin and Will, Maggie needed a minute to assimilate the new wrinkle. “Excuse me,” she told Justin and Will. “I’ll be right back.” She took refuge in the women’s rest room on the left off the little alcove.
How in hell was she going to pull off a successful defense of this place? Stepping over to the sink, she washed her hands with scalding hot water and looked into her own eyes in the mirror. She had reluctant retailers in the largest mall in the south, an unknown number of potential GRID attackers cutting loose a lethal virus on Special Forces, their families and Special Olympians and, no doubt their families, and the general public.
She had minimal intelligence, minimal and reluctant cooperation with mall management—Barone was good forlip service and Will Stanton was hamstrung—and minimal medical backup. Local authorities couldn’t be activated and called up unless Homeland Security issued an authorization, and by the time it did, the assist would be too late to be of help.
If GRID did attack and release the virus at Santa Bella, there was no way Justin Crowe could be on all three levels, vaccinating everyone within two minutes. Special Forces were medically field trained and could assist with that, but even with their assistance, the person-to-person ratio was too low to be successful with a two-minute-injection window. And the antidote hadn’t yet been field tested, which meant there could be a significant number and types of unexpected reactions to it.
Feeling overwhelmed, Maggie gave herself a mental shake, dried her hands, then walked back out into the narrow hallway. Justin stood waiting for her, and if the worry lining his face accurately indicated his mind-set, he’d been doing the same analysis as she and had come to the same grim conclusion.
Their mission odds were a shade shy of impossible.
“Maggie?”
“Yes, Justin.” The next thirty-six hours were going to be too intense to stand on formality.
“In your personal opinion, based on all your experience, what are the odds GRID will attack this mall?”
Maggie leaned her shoulder against the creamy wall. “Based on all we know, without Special Forces being present here, I’d have put the odds at about
Similar Books
