Free Gnash by Brian Parker Page B

interpreter stepped up and began translating for the American.  They were looking for a radio or computer that had been giving off a signal a few hours before.  The interpreter had a difficult time explaining what a computer was to Malik as he pretended to be an ignorant goat herder.  He explained that they had nothing but their goats and a few possessions they had managed to accumulate over the years of scraping out their existence in the mountains.  As was the custom in the mountains, he offered warm goat milk and a sticky pastry made from pistachios and honey.  The soldier, who’d been sickened by al-Nusurim’s delicacies before, declined them.
    Meanwhile, a few soldiers searched the cave.  After a few minutes they came out.  “It’s the same as it was the last ten times we’ve been here sir, dirty and poor.  These people don’t have what we’re looking for,” the sergeant in charge of the search party reported as he walked up to the two men attempting to have a conversation via the interpreter.
    “Okay Sergeant Jones.  Get your men ready to move out, we can’t go any further into these mountains without crossing the border into Pakistan.”  The officer turned back to the Brotherhood member, “Merabani.  Khudafiz.” Thank you.  Good bye.   He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed slightly.  Malik mimicked the gesture and the soldier turned and began the slow downhill trudge back to their helicopter landing zone.
    He watched them until they were out of sight then turned and walked into the cave with a few of the others.  He had a report of victory to write and he was several hours late.

 
    FIVE
    17 April, 1734 hrs local
    The Pentagon
    Arlington, Virginia 
    “Ok, that’s it.  We’re through the last seal.  Billy, give a call up to HQ, let ‘em know we’re in.”  Sergeant First Class Cecil Owens, the chief of the hazardous materials response unit, turned to the squad of military police standing behind him.  “Alright guys, remember, no matter what, do not take your masks off once we’re inside.  It’s been two days, there’s no telling what’s happened in there.”
    The MPs stacked up outside the blast door and a small tractor began driving parallel to the building entrance.  As it moved away, the door was pulled open by the cable attached to the tractor’s bumper.  The door held for a moment then crashed into its storage pocket.  The police started to step through the door with their weapons at the ready but stopped short when they saw the lobby.
    “What the hell?  Billy, tell the CO we need a medical team over here quick!”  There were bodies piled up all over the lobby and up against the doors, no wonder they wouldn’t open.  It appeared as if they tried to escape but couldn’t make it out and died wherever they were.  The HAZMAT [8] crew pulled out their chemical agent monitors and began taking readings, careful to step over the bodies and not go too far into the building.
    “Boss, we got nothing.  There aren’t any chemicals in the air that we can pick up.”
    The sergeant’s eyes got wide.  “Everybody out!  Seal that opening with plastic,” he yelled as he gestured towards the doorway.  He walked over to where the radio operator stood and took the radio handset from him.  “Febris Three, this is Febris Three-Two.  We’re gonna need the CDC in here pronto.  There’s all these dead folks just inside the door but not a trace of any chemicals,” he paused.  “Yes sir, that’s what I’m thinking, a biological agent of some kind.  I had the boys seal the door so whatever it is wouldn’t leak out and infect anyone else,” another pause.  “Yes sir, I believe it is airborne.  Whatever got all these folks looks like it got ‘em all at the same time…Roger sir, standing by.”
    After several minutes of waiting two large black sport utility vehicles drove up in the bus lane.  The rear passenger door of the first truck opened and the