Free Omega Plague: Collapse by P.R. Principe Page B

command here, at least for a
while.”
    Bruno wasn’t surprised. Cristian had a number of years more
experience than himself.
    Cristian continued. “And I spoke to Commissario Esposito.
He’s quite happy continuing Operation Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot. He’s already had to
deflect some inquiries from his own higher-ups.”
    Bruno gave him a puzzled look.
    “Oh, come on,” Cristian responded. “You know—the weapons
confiscation order.”
    Bruno still looked puzzled. “All right, but why
‘Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot’?”
    Cristian laughed. “I thought our little deception needed an
appropriate military designation: Operation W-T-F. That’s the English
abbreviation for ‘Ma Che Cazzo!’”
    Bruno shook his head, with a pale smile playing around his
lips. Cristian did his best never to take anything too seriously, not even the
end of civilization.
    Bruno straightened up in his chair and turned on the monitor
at his desk, swiping his fingers on the screen and ignoring the keyboard.
Cristian brought his chair around so that he could see the screen.
    “What are you looking for?” asked Cristian.
    Bruno didn’t answer immediately, nor did he look up at
Cristian. Instead, he continued to swipe.
    “This,” said Bruno, pointing at the monitor.
    The monitor displayed a map of the Naples region. Bruno’s
finger hovered over the island of Capri. It was now the color of night, as was
the entire coastline.
    “Christ,” said Cristian. “It’s finally spread to Capri.”
    Bruno stared at the monitor and nodded his head. “It’s
here.”
    “So, what do you think will happen?” Cristian asked, a
quiver in his voice. “The British PM is dead. The government has called up all
military reserves. What’s next?”
    Bruno shook his head. “The ruin of everything—the ruin of it
all.”

 
    Chapter 6
    October 25
    Bruno's boots pounded on the street. Veri had been right. No
one cared about enforcing the weapons confiscation order anymore. Cristian
followed behind him as they chased three men through Capri’s main square, out
onto a side street.
    Bruno stopped short when the three figures darted out of
their sight, deciding not to pursue them down the narrow alleys in the fading
light. If he had continued, he would have shot them all.
    Cristian jostled into Bruno as he looked down the street
where the looters had fled.
    “What? You’re letting them go?”
    Bruno didn’t look at Cristian, thinking it best to keep both
eyes where the looters had run, until he was quite certain they were gone.
“We’d have to shoot them if we caught them. I didn’t get a good look at them. I
think they were just getting food.” He looked at Cristian. “They didn’t deserve
to die.” The order to shoot looters on sight had come down two days ago as
chaos grew in the major cities.
    Cristian shook his head. “I can’t fucking believe they
emptied the prisons last week!” Cristian gestured in the general direction of
the thieves. “This is what happens!”
    Bruno holstered his pistol. “Could’ve been worse, though.
They might have tried to fight.”
    “Well,” Cristian responded, holstering his own pistol. “I
doubt the only ones released were the so-called ‘nonviolent’ offenders.”
    “I bet the real reason they released so many is because
there aren’t enough prison guards left now.”
    “Exactly. Sick, or dead, or even more likely, just AWOL,”
Cristian said. Then he patted his pistol. “Good thing we can do something about
it.”
    “For now,” said Bruno. “That is, until we run out of ammo.”
In the fifteen days since the Naples raid, so many were sick, or afraid of
getting sick, that the networks most people in the cities relied upon for their
survival teetered on the edge of total collapse. Too many people sick and not
working led to fuel shortages, which led to transportation problems, which led
to shortages of goods, and on and on and on: cascading failure. Things
unraveled faster than Bruno could have believed