Epilogue

The man surrounded by Secret Service agents looked far too young to be President. The man in the general’s uniform shaking his hand in the light of popping flashes looked equally and suddenly young, if one ignored his old eyes. Travis Tyler performed a parade-perfect about-face, his new medal swinging in the spin, and took his place off to the side.

The Navy commander was next to step forward and run through the ritual of the award. Christine Forman put on the smile and stood for the photos, but her mind was far away, with a man on a spaceship now millions of miles from Earth. I don’t exactly have feelings for him, but...it’s probably just my inclination to rescue every wounded bird I see. She went to stand next to General Tyler with relief, a smile breaking out as the next awardee was called.

“To All Who See These Presents, Greeting: This is to certify that the President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Marine Gunnery Sergeant Merijill Stephanie Repeth...” The narrator droned on, reading of her heroic actions in strangely nonspecific terms. It would hardly do to give her a citation for shooting up the Secret Service, so it was couched in generalities until the part about “singlehandedly saving the life of the President of the United States.” I suppose you could look at it that way, Jill thought.

When President McKenna shook her hand, he leaned in close. “Thanks, Jill. Your country owes you a lot. I owe you a lot.”

“Thank you, sir, and for the blanket pardon. Save some kind words for the general. He lost a son.”

McKenna nodded as he drew back and let go of her hand.

She stepped off smartly and joined her comrades in the line, exchanging smiles with Christine while the President decorated a few other heroes. No matter what else happened, she was a US Marine again. For now, that was enough.

End of The Demon Plagues.

READ ON for an excerpt from the next book in the Plague Wars series, The Reaper Plague.

THE REAPER PLAGUE Excerpt

The long-range transport landed at the Free Communities Australian Air Force Base Richmond near Sydney after nearly fifteen hours. The parachutes Huff and his remnant of Fortress Team had requested sat unused, still strapped to their pallet.

A military truck with flashing lights led the enormous airplane to its stopping place within a hangar sized to fit. Ground crew placed chock blocks, and as soon as the engines shut down the giant doors slammed shut. A couple of dozen troops, lightly armed, secured the inside perimeter of the hangar, but only one man approached the personnel door near the rear, a short Southeast Asian in a major general’s dun-colored uniform.

Spooky Nguyen.

He stood a few steps from the door with his hands clasped behind his back, apparently unarmed. Watching as the door opened, he showed a hand signal to the crew behind him. Other than that slight motion, he was still.

A rifle-wielding and helmeted male figure clad in midnight stepped into the plane’s doorway, looking around. It jumped down, then sauntered over to Nguyen, to stop facing him from arm’s length. The two men were of a height, each about five foot five, one squat and muscular, one slim and erect.

The faceless man gained a visage by tipping up his HUD plate, revealing exquisitely white teeth that contrasted with his blue-black skin. He laughed, a clownish thing, all teeth and tongue. He saluted casually.

“I’m Chief Master Sergeant Huff. You must be Spooky Nguyen.”

The General’s left hand froze in the hand signal while his right flashed out to seize Huff’s rifle, deftly twisting it out of his hand. The weapon came to rest pointing at Huff’s groin, Nguyen’s finger on the trigger. Somehow it now showed full auto.

Huff’s return blow, cat-quick, nevertheless found only air as Spooky moved slightly, leaning away from the hand just enough that it missed.

“Stop!” barked Nguyen with a voice that struck Huff like its own blow, that caused his muscles to stutter and his mind to reel.

He did, then relaxed. “That won’t even penetrate my armor,” Huff sneered.

“But,” Spooky said calmly, “your groin armor is soft, and it’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch. When we spoke last by radio, you gave your word that you would join my command.”

Huff twitched, itching to strike out again. “So?” he sneered.

“Do you always speak to your commanding officer in the familiar? I do not recall giving you leave to address me so. Here in Direct Action, you will earn your privileges, no matter what advantages you acquired by injection.”

“What if I decide to kill you right now?”

Spooky smiled. “I took your weapon from you without difficulty. There is more to personal combat than speed and strength. If you tried, at best you would die with me, for I have given orders to that effect.”

“But I have the children.” Huff did not seem quite as confident as before.

“The only reason,” Nguyen replied, “that I care about those children is to maintain good relations with Daniel Markis, not out of some kind of human sympathy. You know I’m a Psycho, so you know this is true. So at most we have a standoff, but that will slowly change. No matter what you do, no matter who you threaten or kill, this airplane will not leave the hangar and you will have no kind of life or status in this nation unless I will it. You are only as free as you are useful to me.”

“Shit.”

Spooky wasn’t sure whether Huff’s exclamation was disappointed or derisive. “Yes. Deep shit. You know my reputation. I’ll forget about this childish boundary-testing if you will uphold your part of the bargain and play straight from now on. I’m a man of my word.” He reversed the rifle, handing it back to Huff. “Are you?”

Huff looked around the hangar as if searching for the catch, or a way out, but Spooky knew he would see nothing unless he was very, very observant. Eventually he relaxed and took the weapon back, pointing it at the ground.

Nguyen nodded. “Come now, let’s get those children off the plane. I suppose they’re cranky and eager to get home.”

Huff chuckled. “Actually, they have been having a blast. It’s all a big adventure to them, even eating combat rations.”

Spooky made a slight face. “Disgusting. Come on, Chief, talk to your men. Everything’s set.” He stayed in place, left hand still behind his back, hand signal still showing.

Huff nodded, appearing to accept his new subordination with equanimity. He turned and leaped lightly into the personnel door of the airplane, then flipped the hinged stairs out to touch the ground. A few moments later all five Fortress Team commandos and five children stood on the polished hangar floor in front of Nguyen.

Spooky nodded affably, raised a casual right hand, and gave another hand signal with his hidden left.

End of THE REAPER PLAGUE excerpt.