Jonathan Maberry - The King of Plagues
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- Book:The King of Plagues
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- Year:2011
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Saturday 09:11 Hours: A blast rocks a London hospital and thousands are dead or injured 10:09 Hours: Joe Ledger arrives on scene to investigate. The horror is unlike anything he has ever seen. Compelled by grief and rage, Joe rejoins the DMS and within hours is attacked by a hit-team of assassins and sent on a suicide mission into a viral hot zone during an Ebola outbreak. Soon Joe Ledger and the Department of Military Sciences begin tearing down the veils of deception to uncover a vast and powerful secret society using weaponized versions of the Ten Plagues of Egypt to destabilize world economies and profit from the resulting chaos. Millions will die unless Joe Ledger meets the this powerful new enemy on their own terms as he fights terror with terror.
Jonathan Maberry: author's other books
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Table of Contents
As Joe Ledgers biographer (ahem) I rely heavily on the brilliance, insight, experience, and patience of a variety of experts. Thanks to Dr. John Cmar of the Infectious Disease Department of Johns Hopkins University Hospital; Dr. Steve A. Yetiv, professor of political science, Old Dominion University; Dr A. M. Dodson, FSA, Research and Teaching Fellow, Department of Archaeology and Anthropology of the University of Bristol; Dr. Pawel Liberski of the Department of Molecular Pathology and Neuropathology, Medical University of Lodz, Poland; Philadelphia police officer Bob Clark; the men of the 1/111th Infantry BattalionRecon Platoon, with Thirty-sixth BrigadeIraqi Army Recon; Marie OConnell, Jackie Szambelak, and Dr. Barry Getzoff; Michael Sicilia of the California Homeland Security Exercise and Education Program; Walt Stenning, Ph.D., former head of psychology at Texas A&M University; Michael E. Witzgall; Ken Coluzzi, chief of Lower Makefield, Pennsylvania, police department; the International Thriller Writers; authors David Morrell, Gayle Lynds, Sandra Brown, John Gilstrap, Jason Pinter, and Eric Van Lustbader; George Schiro, M.S., consulting forensic scientist; Greg Dagnan, CSI/Police/Investigations FacultyCriminal Justice Department, Missouri Southern State University; Peter Lukacs, M.D.; Ted Krimmel, SERT; and Suzanne Rosin, winner of the Name Joe Ledgers Dog contest.
And special thanks to Javier Grillo-Marxuach, Michael De Luca, and Matthew Snyder; Fran and Randy Kirsch, Charlie and Gina Miller, Arthur Mensch, Sam West-Mensch, and Greg Schauer; Geoff Strauss; Nancy Keim-Comley, Janice Gable Bashman, and Tiffany Schmidt; and Rachel Stockley and Ian Graham.
And, of course, Michael Homler, Joe Goldschein, Matthew Shear, and Nadea Mina at St. Martins Griffin and my agents, Sara Crowe and Harvey Klinger.
And to the wonderful staff at the Starbucks in Southampton, where much of this book was written (yes, I do believe Ill have a refill).
Fiction
Rot & Ruin
The Dragon Factory
Patient Zero
Ghost Road Blues
Dead Mans Song
Bad Moon Rising
The Wolfman
The Dragon Factory
Patient Zero
Ghost Road Blues
Dead Mans Song
Bad Moon Rising
The Wolfman
Nonfiction
Wanted Undead or Alive
Vampire Universe
The Cryptopedia
Zombie CSU
They Bite!
Vampire Universe
The Cryptopedia
Zombie CSU
They Bite!
(1)
The Sea of Hope became a massive floating crime scene. Everyone who was on board had to be interviewed and checked. That included the performers, many members of Generation Hope, and everyone else. There were protests and threats of lawsuits and actions, but those were hollow. The DMS had just averted the worst terrorist act in history. That bought us all the slack we needed. All of the celebrities and the children of the power players were off-loaded to the Navy ships. Eventually theyd all go home.
Home and alive.
I flew home in a big C-140 with Pink, Taylor Swift, and the guys from U2. DeeDee was aboard, too, with Khalid watching over her. She would keep the eye, but it was damaged and so was her face. It was too early to tell if shed ever stand in the line of battle again. I had a couple of dozen stitches in my back, chest, and gums, but I was deemed fit to travel. Ghost was there, too. Sedated but alive.
It was all surreal.
The celebs on our plane kept their distance, occasionally shooting strange looks at me. I dont know what stories theyd been told about me, or what rumors had floated around. And I didnt care.
But sometimes you cant tell about people.
Cuppa?
I looked up to see whod spoken and Bono stood there holding two cups of steaming tea. He held one out to me. I took it, hissing at the pain the action caused in every molecule of my body.
Mind if I sit?
I tilted my head toward a metal equipment case and he sat down. He was a small man, short and slim. His signature sunglasses were tucked into the vee of his shirt.
Your names Joe?
I nodded.
Look, man, I came back to say a couple of things, but Ill piss off if Im bothering you.
No, I said. No, its good. Whats on your mind?
I sipped the tea. It was lousy.
I made this myself. He sipped his. God, its piss.
Its hot, I said, and we clinked mugs.
Tell me, man why do you do this sort of thing? he asked.
I shook my head. Ask me something I know the answer to.
The plane flew a lot of miles before either of us spoke. Wed drunk our bad tea. Bono stood up.
Anyway, man, he said. For me and my mates and, I guess, for everyone I just wanted to say thanks.
He offered me his hand.
I took it. Then he nodded and walked back to sit with the other members of the band. I smiled. A good guy.
Why do I do this sort of thing?
God, I wish I had an answer to that.
(2)
On December 28, Rudy, Circe, and I took a DMS chopper from the Hangar and flew south into Pennsylvania. We landed outside the walls of Graterford Prison. Warden Wilson met us at the gate.
Has he said anything? asked Rudy as we shed our coats in the wardens office.
He hasnt said a word since Dr. Sanchez ordered him placed in solitary, said Wilson. I had video and audio recorders placed inside his cell and all along the path from cell to showers and back. Nicodemus is always escorted by four guards that I pick randomly, and the time for his shower varies according to a schedule I make up. A schedule I keep in my head. If there was a leak inside the prison, someone feeding information to Nicodemus, these procedures seem to have stopped it.
Rudy and Circe exchanged a look and said nothing. Neither looked pleased. Wilson caught it.
What? he asked.
Nothing, said Rudy. Except that a little subtlety might have helped us find the leak rather than cut it off.
Wilson looked flustered and angry. Well, you could have said that, Dr. Sanchez.
He shouldnt have had to, I said. Wilson turned aside to hide a face.
Can we see the prisoner now? asked Circe.
Sure, Wilson said with bad grace. He led the way and we followed him through cold, damp halls that felt more like the corridors of an ancient dungeon rather than part of a modern prison. We passed through two heavily occupied cell blocks, and as we passed we saw hundreds of prisoners standing on the other side of the bars. Their eyes followed us, reading us. They watched Circe OTree, who wore a tailored suit that hid none of her curves.
The prisoners were absolutely silent.
And that was creepy as hell. I had never heard a quiet cell block before. Not once as a Baltimore cop or during my time with the DMS. There were always catcalls and laughter, the low murmur of conversation, smart-ass remarks. There should have been some whistles at Circe, some off-color remarks.
All we heard was the hollow sounds of our own heels on the concrete floor. Even the warden felt it. He stopped in the middle of one of the rows of cells and looked around. When he made eye contact with the convicts, they returned his stare, but they said nothing.
Wilson cut a look at me and continued leading the way.
Several turns took us through a series of locked doors until we reached the secure area used for solitary confinement. The cells on either side of Nicodemuss cell had been left vacant. The video cameras on the wall were pointed toward his cell. I could see a small figure on the cot, curled asleep under a thin brown blanket.
A guard-supervisor stood at the far end of the row, and he came to meet us.
Wilson said, Bill, these people are with Homeland. They want to interview Nicodemus.
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