Derek Slaton [Slaton - Dead Texas: Books 1-4 Box Set

DAY ZERO

DEAD TEXAS: BOOK 1

BY DEREK SLATON

2018

CHAPTER ONE

Tuesday, 9:47 A.M.

On a normal weekday morning, the newly renovated Austin police station would have been a bustle of officers and personnel. But on that day, it was sparsely populated, and half of the people who had managed to show up to their post were coughing up a storm.

Homeland Security Agent Harris was no exception.

What do you mean you arent coming in today? Do you... he coughed into the phone, lungs rasping like hell. You hear how I sound? And Im here! I expect more out of my team. You can expect a reprimand in your file. He slammed the phone down in frustration before giving in to another coughing fit.

Captain Schultz stopped short as he walked by the office, taking in the sight of the middle aged agent trying to steady himself on his desk. Hed never seen the fit and sharp man look so sickly and broken.

Are are you okay, Sir? the Captain asked, raising an eyebrow. I can hear you from my office next door. He rested a hand on his considerable belly, figuring that if everyone was home sick thered be lots of extra donuts in the break room.

Yeah, Ill live, Harris replied once he caught his breath. Its my fucking team. Theyre dropping like flies to whatever plague is going around this office.

Is there anything I can get you? Schultz scratched the back of his head at the sound of his coworkers hoarse voice. Coffee? Tea?

I need warm bodies, preferably from your SWAT team, Harris replied, sitting up straight. He abhorred looking weak and the way that Schultz was looking at him made him want to mop the floor with the doughy Captain. Short-handed or not, we have to act on this intelligence.

Im sorry sir, but SWAT left twenty minutes ago, Schultz swallowed hard. Apparently there is some major disturbance going on at the UT Campus.

I dont care where you find them just Harris wheezed and hacked, desperately trying to catch his breath and his words. Goddammit. Our mission takes priority. I dont care where you pull them from, just find me some people capable of participating in a raid. Bring them to the briefing room in ten minutes.

Yes sir, Ill see who I can round up. Schultz nodded and left.

Harris leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples in firm circles. Congestion in his chest, pressure in his headregardless of being angry at his team this sickness was definitely unpleasant, to say the least.

His cell phone vibrated on the table and he picked it up without even looking at the caller ID. This is Harris.

We need a status update, an aged male voice demanded through the line. Is your team ready to go?

Most of us, the Agent replied. There is a nasty flu running through the PD here and nearly half my guys are down and out. I have the locals digging up people to fill out our ranks.

Im disappointed in the way you are managing your team, Special Agent Harris, the man on the other end said with a click of his tongue. Dont make us regret giving you the promotion.

Well get the job done, Harris replied, injecting as much authority into his voice as possible. Ill give you a status update after the raid.

Very well then, the voice conceded. Go get it done.

Harris ended the call and threw his phone on the desk in frustration, scrubbing his hands down his face. I swear Im making these assholes walk back to DC after this is over.

CHAPTER TWO

Tuesday, 10:02 A.M.

Agent Harris made his way to the briefing room, the lurch of his equilibrium reminding him with every step that he was unwell. It was getting worse; he felt like he was being eaten alive from the lungs out.

Agent Harris! Schultz called from down the hall, and the Special Agent turned towards the Captain with two people in tow. Here are the officers you requested.

Harris set his tired gaze on the thirty-something Latino man with the hard eyes and the young looking redheaded woman with the small but athletic frame.

Two people? He squeezed the bridge of his nose momentarily, scrunching his eyes shut. When he released them, he ignored the officers, leveling his attention on Schultz. Thats all you could find me was two people?

Im sorry Agent, Schultz said quickly, holding up a hand, but the situation at UT still isnt under control, and half my officers are out sick today. So unless you want old overweight slowpokes like myself, this is what youre going to have to work with. I honestly wish I could do more. The determination in his face made Harris sigh.

Okay, I appreciate it Captain, he said, and turned to the two officers. You two, sit in the back, pay attention, and see me as soon as the briefing is over for your orders, you got it?

Yes, Sir, they both answered in unison.

All right, lets go, Harris entered the room and immediately the six strike team members dissolved their milling about and took their seats. The two officers took the available back seats, feeling tiny in comparison to the burly strike team members.

Harris stepped up to the podium and picked up a remote control, dimming the lights and starting a slide presentation on the overhead projector.

Okay men. He stifled a cough. Here is what we have. He clicked to the first slide, which showed a middle aged white man in a lab coat. This is Dr. Alexi Sokolov, AKA the Russian Plague. Russian national, worked in bio-research for the government since his recruitment right out of college, and an all around despicable human being. In 2012 he- Harris broke off into a coughing fit, and one of the strike team members leaned forward with a bottle of water outstretched.

The Agent took it and nodded gratefully, taking a deep draught and setting it down on the podium. Thank you, he replied gruffly. Goddamn. Sorry, as I was saying. In 2012 he was assigned to the Assad regime to help them with their chemical weapons program. We were unsure of his specific task, but we heard varying stories about compact bio-weapons that individuals could release while on the ground. Kind of like a plague suicide bomber.

Its unknown exactly how successful he was since in 2014 his lab was struck in an airstrike, killing his wife and lab partner Irina. It was assumed that Dr. Sokolov was also killed in the blast, but his body was never recovered. It wasnt until 2015 that one of our sister agencies picked up his trail in some of the less desirable parts of Africa. He clicked to the next slide, showing the same man with severe burns to the side of his face.

The look in Sokolovs eyes was haunted and severe, as if hed come out of the picture and tear them all apart with his bare hands. He had clearly been unstable, especially after all hed been through.

As you can see, the good doctor here was alive, but did come away from the airstrike with a souvenir, Harris continued, pausing on a wheeze and taking another quick sip of water. Over the next eighteen months he was tied to half a dozen chemical based attacks around the globe. These rarely got news coverage in this country because they were in places very few people here give a shit about. But those of us paying attention were growing more concerned as his attacks were becoming more sophisticated.

Then, in the spring of 2017, he vanished. We didnt know if some third world dictator killed him, imprisoned him, or if he was one his own cooking up something large scale. We knew he was upset over the death of his wife, so we couldnt rule out a strike on our homeland. Which is why we were activated. He clicked through to the next slide.

The image showed a crowd of people in the stands of a football game, everyone wearing Texas Longhorn gear. In the center of the photo was a man in jeans and a plaid shirt with a severely burned face.

Is that here ? the red haired officer blurted, startling most of the room. A blush crept up her cheeks as the strike team turned to look at her, more than one gaze of annoyance at her outburst.