Chapter Text
Commander Thomas Chandler gazed out at the barren island off their starboard bow, lost in thought. Laelia perched quietly on the back of his chair, the two situated perfectly to observe all the actions on the Bridge. Mike was sitting across the pilothouse in his own chair, Ana curled up around his feet fast asleep. After being ordered to remain in the arctic, with no specific duties save escorting the scientists, boredom and frustration was beginning to set in amongst the crew.
They were deep within the Barents Sea, about 63 nautical miles northeast of Svalbard. Large sheets of ice floated past sedately. They had been lucky to find such an island, as the encroaching ice-flow crept ever nearer to their position. The Nathan James was a stout ship, as seaworthy as the Navy came. But an icebreaker, she was not.
Tom spared a moment to eye the last satellite images, keeping a wary eye on the latest position of the ice fields. They were on the very edge of a wide polynya in the northern sea. Whether or not Dr. Scott completed her research, their time here was limited. Soon it would become too treacherous, even for their hardy Destroyer, to navigate such waters. She had a week and a half remaining, three on the outside, before they risked being shred apart by the mile thick ice that perpetually broke from the Arctic ice shelf.
Laelia gave a curious hum as the bridge phone rang, which his officer of the deck, Lt. Granderson moved promptly to answer, her elegant hummingbird dæmon trailing behind her. A moment later she held out the phone for him, with a calm murmur.
“Captain, your presence is requested in CIC. They have unknown aircraft approaching at 80 knots, currently 32 miles out.”
He frowned at that, glancing first to Mike who was busy kicking Ana awake, then to Laelia as he stood and headed for the hatch leading below decks. Their location was far too remote for this to be any sort of coincidence. They could be friendlies, but that was looking unlikely as they hadn't identified themselves. He turned back to Slattery as Laelia hopped on his shoulder to accompany him below.
“Let them know I'm on my way, the rest of you stay sharp. XO has the Deck.”
“Aye, Captain.” Mike replied, sharing a long look with him, Ana coming alert, ears perked forward. “This is the XO, I have the Deck.” He announced befittingly to the bridge as Chandler moved toward the door.
He could see the tension travel through the bridge, everyone responding as possible hostile aircraft approached. Officers checking and rechecking instrument readouts and weapons controls in anticipation, making him grin slightly. He had a good crew. Not wasting another moment, he headed down the ladders to CIC.
“If they're hostile, I'd guess that Dr. Scott and her secret research are the most likely objectives.” Laelia murmured tensely in his ear, already thinking to the possible combat ahead. He could feel her talons kneading his shoulder in agitation. Tom nodded grimly, feeling a stab of worry for the doctor.
“Agreed, in which case they'll try for the island first, and our helo. They're the obvious targets. It would cut off her escape and give them time to take us out.” His voice hardened, as Laelia gave him a fierce look. “We'll just have to make sure they don't get the chance.”
And then he was in CIC, the sudden hush and the gloom overtaking him, broken only by Comms Officer Mason's frequent and increasingly perturbed voice demanding the incoming aircraft identify themselves or be subject to defensive action, his dæmon fluttering about his head. Tom grabbed a headset and put it on, allowing him to communicate directly with both CIC and the bridge.
His tactical action officer Lt. Foster turned to him as he approached. Her pretty face was set into hard lines, her Ring-tailed mongoose dæmon Leopold curled about her neck, his dark eyes meeting theirs with glittering determination. She addressed the situation immediately.
“Captain, five unknown aircraft, now 27 miles out approaching at 80 knots. They refuse to answer hails.”
Five? Tom felt adrenalin spike through his system as the situation turned dynamic, Laelia spreading her wings partially as if she were about to spring into flight. He spared a moment to collect himself, exhaling slowly, then met Lt. Foster's eyes and held them decisively, issuing a string of commands as his ship entered combat.
“Set General Quarters.”
Alarms blared throughout the ship as his crew was called to action, sailors scrambling madly to their battle stations, dæmons in a flurry of fur and feathers around them. Everyone knew their place and their purpose, general quarters having been drilled into them from the moment they stepped aboard. How swiftly a sailor reached his battle station could make all the difference, split seconds determining what was a hit and a sink or near miss in this modern age of naval warfare.
“Weapons hold, I repeat, weapons hold.” He warned, causing Laelia to huff in irritation. The aircraft hadn't yet been confirmed hostile. He was almost certain that they were, by this point, but such actions were the stuff of international incidents and a common cause of gray hair among naval Captains everywhere.
“All engines ahead flank, hard left rudder. Deploy SCAT!” He ordered, sending his crew out with the large caliber machine-guns, specifically designed to take out light aircraft. The ship leaped beneath him, coming about hard to port.
“CIWS to AAW Auto, hold fire off, spool up eight ESSM's.” He finished, readying their surface-to-air missiles for launch and setting their high powered Vulcan gun for anti-aircraft fire.
Their precise targeting computers would track and kill anything that came within range, up to and including aircraft and missiles. The James was ready, he could feel her purring beneath his feet, claws out, waiting to strike. She wanted battle. As the aircraft approached he shared a feral look with Laelia, her thrill for the hunt matching his own.
“New air contact 80234 at 015 out 36,000 yards. Evaluate as inbound missile!” Foster chimed out, Leopold crouching on the side of her station, reaching over to flip a switch as he stared intently at their Aegis radar arrays, tho two of them working together in perfect sync.
Slattery deployed their CHAFF buoys from the bridge in countermeasure, giving the general alarm to brace for impact. Laelia caught his eye for a moment, feeling the shift. Now that they had been fired upon, there was no question that the incoming aircraft were here with harmful intentions, allowing him to retaliate at will.
“Assess all aircraft as hostile, weapons free. TAO,” he growled, “fire ESSM's one through six, target all air contacts. Take 'em out.”
“Aye, sir.” She replied, both her and Leopold scrambling over their Aegis systems to acquire firing solutions. “Firing.” Leo flipped up a switch and depressed a glowing button with his clever paws. Tom felt the whole ship shudder as the Vertical Launch System sent off six of their SeaSparrow missiles, plumes of fire trailing in their wake, the entire weather deck momentarily enveloped in smoke.
“Sparrow's one through four away.” Kara paused a moment, taking in readings on her instruments. “Sparrow's five and six away. We have a hit. Confirmed, inbound missile destroyed.”
Tom let out a breath, following the action on his own radar array as the five remaining missiles continued towards the closing aircraft and found their targets. Laelia gave a small triumphant hoot as they watched the first two helicopters disappear from their radar screen, a third appearing to stop and swerve erratically.
“Sparrow's two through four report a hit, five and six are misses. Confirmed, two aircraft destroyed, moderate damage to the third, the other two are circling around behind the ice-flow.”
This is what Tom had been afraid of. “They're trying to get to the island, to find Dr. Scott.” He hissed at Laelia, feeling his anger rise.
“It seems her research really is their target.” Laelia whispered back, stunned.
“Fire ESSM seven, target damaged aircraft at 22 miles.” He ordered. The wounded helo would be easy pickings for their SeaSparrow now. However, the other two helicopters had gotten too close for surface-to-air missiles to be effective. They'd have to use guns.
“Aye, sir,” Foster complied. “Firing, Sparrow seven away.”
“Switch to the five-inch. Destroy all remaining air contacts.” He murmured, his voice carrying easily throughout the quiet CIC, only his voice and Foster's now breaking into the silence as the rest of the crew waited tensely, no one wanting to interfere between the Captain and his TAO during the action.
“Roger that sir, switching to the five-inch. Surface, TAO, kill track 5024. Sparrow seven reports a hit, confirmed third helo is destroyed.”
“Commo,” Chandler called out, speaking to Mason, “get Sentinel team on the line, warn them of inbound enemy aircraft. Have them retrieve both scientists immediately! I want our helo to be wheels up as soon as the last tango splashes down.”
“Sir.” Mason replied with a nod, jumping immediately onto the com to contact their SEAL team on the island.
Tom turned back to Laelia, feeling his worry for the scientists increase as the helicopters used the ice-flow to try and hide from their artillery. That tactic wouldn't work for long, as his crew had been practicing these very maneuvers for the past four months and had no trouble picking out targets within the ice.
“Lee,” he hissed. “Do you think you can reach them?”
She cocked her head, eying him knowingly. Most dæmons couldn't stray very far from their partner's side. But Tom and Laelia were different, ever since they'd been in an accident when they were little, allowing her to go much farther than was normal.
“You know I can.”
He nodded quickly, still not sure he actually wanted to send her out there, but knowing she could make all the difference for the scientist's safety. He moved from his station to the CIC's door, opening it for her and climbing the ladders up to the main deck. Stepping outside, he held out his arm as she hopped down his shoulder, sparing her another glance.
“Make sure she gets back to the helo in one piece, and be careful, Lee.”
She glared at that, reaching out with a wing to cuff him on the back of the head.
“Don't be a moron, we're both always careful. And last I checked, there were two of them. At least one of us has to be the responsible one and look out for Dr. Tophet, you know… that other guy.” He could hear the smirk in her voice and spared a moment to laugh at himself. Their eyes met fondly as Tom gazed at his other self.
“I'll make sure she gets back the ship.” She added soberly, spreading her wings.
He nodded gravely and took a step forward, heaving his arm around and launching her form into the sky.
Rachel gasped for breath as she ran desperately through the snow, the sounds of the helicopter behind her getting closer as it opened fire. Callidus squeezed her almost harshly, digging into her chest as bullets whizzed by, kicking up shards of snow and ice ahead of her. She cried out in alarm, dodging sharply to the right, Quincy diving away on her other side.
The sinister chopper stilled for a moment, hanging over the ice a scant few hundred yards away. Rachael's breath caught in terror as she watched several men in dark body armor drop from the vehicle, landing with agile grace onto the powdery snow, vicious looking dæmons beside them.
“They're trying to cut us off!” Cal shouted, “Stop us from getting back to the helicopter!”
“Keep going, Rachel!” Quincy screamed out behind her. “You have to make it back with the samples!”
“I know.” She whispered to herself, curling her body over the specimen case as much as she could. The startling sound of a wolf howling nearby made her heart leap in her chest. She turned to the nearby ridge in disbelief.
Two snowmobiles burst over the rise in a spray of snow, the Navy SEALs appearing with roaring engines as they headed towards the scientists at full throttle. Two dark shadows ghosted alongside, sweeping out over the ice. Gone were all traces of the playfulness Rachel had grown so used to. The two canines moved in conformity with their partners, ears folded sharply down, ruff standing up in bushy spikes all along their spine, lips pulled back in a snarling rictus of glittering fangs.
The enemy soldiers opened fire as they approached, causing Rachel and Quincy to dive down in the snow, feeling puffs in the air as bullets whizzed by closely over their heads.
“Stay down!” Lt. Green shouted at them, both he and Benz forced to duck behind their snowmobiles for cover, returning fire at the advancing soldiers.
Rachel sobbed as one of the dark figures fell back in a burst of red, his lynx dæmon instantaneously dissolving into a pile of dust beside him. Callidus clutched closer to her chest in horror, his length twitching about in shock. Lt. Benz used the momentary lull in fighting to line up the sites on his RPG, firing off a rocket at the hovering chopper.
The helicopter tried to jerk away at the last moment, but it was too late. The rocket connected solidly with the tail rotor, sending the vehicle careening down in flames. The shuddering impact as the chopper came down nearby shook the ground. Flaming debris came raining from the sky, covering the area in deadly shrapnel and twisted hunks of metal.
Rachel cried out as a piece of something sharp struck her on the back, smelling burnt plastic waft by as her coat smoldered. The hard plastic case holding her virus specimens was knocked involuntarily from her grasp. The case sent careening down the icy hill with the impact of debris. Callidus uttered a cry of outrage, plunging down after it before Rachel could grab him back. Feeling her heart constrict in a vice of dread the farther he slithered away from her.
The soldiers saw the case too, making a sudden concerted push towards the box. Whatever was inside of it, they could tell it was important to her and therefore, valuable. But Callidus was faster. He wound down the slope, curving around rocks and ice with deceptive grace, never letting up, even when bullets kicked up the dirt inches from his side. Doggedly he made his way, reaching the case and winding himself around and about it, protectively. Rachel let out a ragged breath as he looked back at her, huddled low over the case. He'd die before he let anyone take it away from him, she knew.
“The case! We have to get it back!” She shouted frantically to the SEALs, gesticulating wildly with her arm to grab their attention from across the hill.
She saw Benz turn his head for a moment, and pointed down frantically to the capsule below. He followed her gesture and spotted the box, or more specifically, her dæmon lying exposed beside it. He gave a shout of alarm, gesturing for a moment to Green before they both opened fire once more on the approaching soldiers. One of the men went down, mowed away by gunfire, his dæmon falling to dust beside him. But there were still three left. The commando in front kept creeping towards the crate, making his way ever closer, taking cover behind a rock outcropping. The other two hunkered down as best they could behind a few ice chunks, returning fire at the two SEALs, keeping them pinned down by the snowmobiles.
“Oh God, Rachel. The samples.” Quincy hissed at her shoulder, shuddering in terror.
Something sinister and dark was rustling its way towards the plastic briefcase, heaving past the ice brutishly. The scraggly form meandered ever nearer to Callidus' position, tottering about almost listlessly. A wild boar, she realized, the enemy's dæmon, its tusks poking out cruelly beneath the bristled snout. The odd gait pattern served to avoid any of the gunfire that was perforating the valley. Rachel squinted down furiously, following its progress as Cal curled in on himself, presenting a smaller target for the enemy and tensing to strike quickly.
All of a sudden the beast charged, lowering its head and sprinting through the gap between the rock cover and the container, clearly aiming to crush Callidus beneath sharp tusks and cleft hoofs before his own venomous fangs could find their mark. Rachel stared in horror, breath hitched painfully in the back of her throat, helpless to stop anything from happening.
The boar dæmon hadn't even made it halfway through the gap, thundering down dauntlessly upon her viper's tiny hunched figure, before a dark gray patch detached itself from the sky. The form plummeted earthward from where it had been circling, hidden by the smoke and clouds, sinking through the air like a stone, silence and concentration written in every line of her body. The boar never saw her coming, never had an inkling of the silent death sweeping down from the skies.
Rachel felt her jaw drop as the great eagle swooped low, enormous wings pinioned out to let her float effortlessly through the air. She passed over the enemy soldier, crouched futilely behind his rocks, closing on the beast with alarming swiftness. At the very last second, she pulled up, massive wings back-flapping to pitch her body backwards, her legs pushing out in front, wicked black talons stretching wide before her for one menacing moment.
She fell upon her prey in an instant, deadly sharp claws sinking precisely into the boar's neck and spine up to the knuckle, smoothly lofting the dæmon up into the air after her, though the beast had to weigh at least 30 pounds. Matted fur and gore rained down along her flight path, the boar having time to loose one shrill terrified squeal before she twined away, talons clenching mercilessly.
The dæmon dissolved to dust, slipping through her talons to spread over the ice below. In the sudden silence, the cry of the enemy soldier could be heard clearly. His figure, clad in a black tactical vest with his automatic rifle hanging uselessly, lurched up from behind the rocks, clutching achingly at his chest. He stumbled about blindly for a few seconds, making terrible moaning sounds, before falling limp upon the snow, the shock of his loss killing him rapidly.
Laelia reached the specimen container before anyone else could make a move, swooping down once again, this time with a careful slowness. Callidus stared up at her for a moment, startled. Then he saw what she intended and hastily clutched himself to the case, looping up the middle section of his body, his eyes clenched shut tight. Bloody talons that had just been used for harm now gently descended on his trembling form, her black talons closing around him tenderly, lifting him to safety high in the air along with the container he held so tightly.
“Easy, now. I've got you.” A soothing feminine voice murmured, barely heard over the wind.
Callidus gradually managed to pry his eyes open, gasping as the ground fell away beneath him. They circled closely, heading around the clearing for the spot where Rachel and Quincy were still tucked down in the snow, trying to avoid the last hectic bursts of gunfire. He gazed up at her blankly for a moment, mind still trying to accept and process the recent violence.
The underside of her wings and breast feathers were a beautiful snow white color, dotted and ribbed here and there with spots of black, giving her a lovely harlequin appearance. The wind ruffled through the downy feathers on her legs and chest, almost tickling him where he lay tucked securely against her body. But then he spotted an aberration, odd flecks of red dotted along her stomach, and felt his gut clench when he realized it must be blood from the dæmon she had killed. Dread settled like a leaden weight over his heart. He would be dead now, if she had not reached him in time, and so would Rachel.
“Laelia.” He managed, finally finding his words. It came out closer to a sob than anything, his voice stricken.
She glanced down at him at that, steely gray eyes giving him a gentle assessment. He felt her talons squeeze him lightly, trying to convey reassurance through touch.
“The samples.” He gasped out, desperate to communicate his mission. “They must stay safe. They must get back to the ship… whatever else happens to Rachel and I. The CDC requires it.”
“Very well, Callidus.” She reassured him, her voice serene and commanding. “I will see to it that your case makes it back to the ship.” He felt her pause, and add teasingly, “along with both you and Dr. Scott, of course. No need for heroic sacrifices... yet.”
Callidus barked out a short laugh at that, hardly believing she was trying to lighten the mood while they both were circling the last bursts of combat below. The rest of Sentinel team had arrived, and they were making short work of the two remaining enemy soldiers. Callidus carefully looked away, not wishing to see their final moments.
“Thank you.” He murmured sincerely.
“Both Tom and I consider looking after your welfare as a part of our duty.” She whispered down to him in reply. “But it's also a privilege.” The words spoken so softly, Callidus barely heard them above the wind, before they were snatched away.
“It's over.” She continued more strongly. “I'll take you down now. The Captain and I wish to speak with both of you, once you're back safely aboard ship.”
Captain Chandler watched carefully from the bridge as the James' Seahawk helicopter closed slowly with the flight deck, matching speed with the ship and coming in delicately for a landing. Laelia circled the aircraft lazily, escorting the helicopter all the way from the island, only now breaking away to glide herself in his direction.
He stepped out onto the port-side wing of the bridge, the small walkway open to the air. Holding out his arm for her politely, he caught Laelia to his chest as she came in for a landing. He held held her close to him for a moment, both of them relishing the warm contact after being apart so long. Eventually he pulled back a bit, working his fingers through her downy feathers and straightening out any tangles or loose straggle. Head tucked down, she nestled into the crook of his neck like a chiclet. Softly, Laelia conveyed the events of the island.
The more she spoke, the angrier Tom felt himself become.
“Sir,” Mike called from the door. “Flight control reports our helo is wheels down and fully secured. Aaand,” he drew the word out slowly, “Sentinel team even managed to find us a prisoner.” He added with false cheer. Mariana growled lowly from beside his hip, her eyes sparking.
“He's a Russian.” She added heatedly, looking up at him and Laelia expectantly.
“Slattery, with me.” He spoke coldly, turning back to enter the pilothouse. Laelia hopped back to her usual place on his shoulder, her silver eyes gone to hard steel.
“OOD has the deck.” He announced, meeting the eyes of Lt. Granderson for a moment before he and Mike made their way below, heading swiftly for the flight deck.
“Where's Dr. Scott?!” He demanded immediately, turning to glare accusingly at Burke and Green, who were hovering over their Russian prisoner.
“She's banged up pretty good. Doc's looking at her in Hangar Two.” Green replied, meeting his eyes for a moment, before dropping his gaze at whatever he found there. His German Sheppard Hailey sidled up to his leg, nosing Danny's knee in silent support.
Tom eyed the two for a moment, closing his eyes and letting out a breath of frustration. Laelia hummed quietly beside him, putting both himself and Lt. Green at ease. He turned at last to the Russian laying on the deck, slowly bleeding out.
He reached down to the man and lifted him by his tactical vest, thumping him back hard onto the deck. Laelia hopped down a moment later, pinning his Silver fox dæmon to the deck by it's neck, talons tightening in a threatening hold.
“Why are you here? What are you after?” Tom hissed at him in Russian, trying hard to keep himself from hauling back and punching the guy. After a few moments the man's eyes finally managed to focus in on him, and he started muttering hoarsely, grabbing desperately at Tom's jacket to pull him close.
“The cure, the cure! Everyone was dying, we had to find… the cure.”
His eyes dilated out after that, and he slowly slumped to the ground, dead. His dæmon dissolved silently beside him, her last look filled with agony. Tom turned to Laelia, feeling her own distress at the news, expression carefully closed off.
“All our guys are accounted for, minor injuries only.” Mike interrupted at last, somewhat hesitantly. “What did he... have to say?”
Tom glanced down a moment, running a hand over his face wearily.
“It was a cure, Mike. He said he wanted the cure.”
Both of them stared at each other for a moment, all the other SEALs of team Two falling silent around them. Then, the four of them, Tom and Mike, Ana and Laelia, turned as one to stare at the little black case resting innocently beside their Seahawk's landing gear, clamped shut with bio-hazard stickers plastered starkly to the front and sides of it. The Captain huffed out a breath and snatched it up, his movements irritated but still careful. He turned abruptly and moved away from the group, heading resolutely for the second helicopter bay.
“Are we at war with Russia?” He asked his XO wryly.
“Get me Fleet Forces on the line. If they don't answer, get me NMCC. And if they don't answer, get me the god damn SecDef.”
“We're supposed to be radio silent.” Mike grunted, hurrying to keep pace as he strode over the deck.
“Not anymore.” Tom growled, Laelia loosing an angry call that pierced the ears of everyone on the deck, finally feeling their frustration boil over.
Rachel hissed as she gingerly bent to flex the muscles on her back, feeling the skin tug on the edges of her island dressing. Callidus hissed in sympathetic commiseration, curling over her shoulder to inspect where the shrapnel had grazed her shoulder blade.
“I told you I'm fine, just hurry up. Where's Quincy? I need my samples.” She snapped at Doctor Rios, who held up his hands in an exasperated gesture, backing away from her as he shook his head.
Everyone in the helo bay looked over as the Captain stormed into the hangar, his eagle cawing angrily at anyone who got close, flapping in agitation. The commotion almost made her miss the familiar container in his hand, she stared at it for a second, before dragging her gaze up to meet the incensed Captain's.
“You don't get your samples until you tell me what's going on here.” He demanded, holding the case out before her tauntingly. Rachel felt her irritation spike, shooting him a venomous glare.
“You have no authority over me...” She said, voice choked with indignation. Tom meet her eyes, his grim look feeling like a punch to the gut.
“Everybody out!” He ordered harshly, clearing the helicopter bay of all personnel except for themselves.
As soon as the room was empty, Tom's shoulders seemed to drop a fraction. Some invisible weight lifted momentarily off his back. Beside her, Callidus slid wearily from her lap, moving to the edge of the cot to wind about himself defensively in a tightly coiled circle. Laelia made a small sound at that, leaping off of Tom's shoulder to glide to the cot, perching herself gingerly next to Callidus.
The two dæmons gauged each other, waiting to see if the other would pick a fight. But then Laelia shuffled closer, bending down carefully to run her beak tenderly over Callidus' coils, as if to check for injury. Callidus held still for a moment, unsure what to make of her, before eventually settling back down, submitting himself to her gentle inspection.
Rachel softened at that, the actions of his other half demonstrating so clearly that even in his anger the Captain was a kind and gentle man. She felt his soothing gaze sweep her body, inspecting the area where her island bandage peeked out from the edge of her tank top. She pressed her own hand over the wound reflexively, sighing in exhaustion. The Captain's grimace turned sharper, trying, she knew, to reign in his unhappiness at their situation.
“You need to hand that container over to me right now.” She began quietly. “Even one crack to the casing could kill everyone aboard this ship.”
His eyebrows rose sharply at that, holding the case out a little farther away from himself, suddenly being very careful with how he gripped it. After a moment's consideration, he approached her somewhat gingerly, setting the case down delicately next to her on the cot, crouching in front of her. He threw her a look she was tempted to call apologetic, if she didn't already know him better.
“We may have just gone to war with Russia, and they were clearly after you.” He told her bluntly, trying to convey the difficulty of his current position. “No more secrets Doctor, you need to tell me about the cure.”
Rachel suddenly felt helpless. What he was asking of her, she couldn't give him.
“I can't say anything… until I speak to the National Security-”
“I swear to God! I will throw your research overboard!” Chandler exploded, hands curling into fists at his side as he shot up to loom over her on the cot. Rachel couldn't help flinching at his sudden outburst, making him lean away again a moment later. He studied her face carefully, before adding resolutely. “I want answers!”
Rachel released a shaky breath, gathering herself to answer him.
“You want answers?” She asked harshly. "Fine."
“Seven months ago, outside of Cairo, there was an outbreak… a virus of unknown origin. It's genetic structure was like nothing any of us had ever seen.” She paused for a moment, gazing helplessly at the deck as those horrifying moments in Egypt passed through her mind's eye.
“It swept throughout the village, killing everyone that it infected. Egyptian officials claimed the outbreak was contained, but it wasn't.” She shook her head sadly, Callidus making a mournful noise beside her. Laelia had concluded her inspection of Cal's person, and now laid herself beside him, spreading one wing protectively over his curled form.
“Instead, it continued to mutate and spread. The CDC and the WHO wanted to sample the virus from the victims to create a vaccine. But nothing worked. It was my belief that we needed to find the primordial strain here in the Arctic.”
“The birds.” Chandler said, understanding dawning his face.
“They're just the carriers. They pick up the virus from the melting permafrost.” Rachel replied, giving him a nod. “We finally found their feeding ground.”
“So you have what you need to stop this thing?” He asked, his voice lighter than before. Rachel spread her hands in a helpless gesture.
“I won't know until we get it back to the lab. We're running out of time. The virus back home is moving quicker than any of us could've imagined.”
At that statement, the Captain's face suddenly locked down once more.
“How would you know that? We've been radio silent since we left Norfolk.” He asked lowly, a hint of a growl creeping back into his voice. Rachel sighed, dropping her gaze to her feet.
“Because I have my own sat phone.”
The Captain's inarticulate sound of rage told her exactly how he felt about that. Laelia gave her own angry scream, leaping up from where she lay on the cot, spreading her wings threateningly. Her talons rested carefully over Cal's winding body, easily encircling his frame as she stood over him, peering down at his face. Cal lifted his head in response, winding back a tiny bit, flicking out his tongue to taste the air in her direction.
“We were at EMCON so no one would know our position!” Chandler snarled at her, lip curling in disgust.
“We were at EMCON to protect my mission, not the ship's location!” She shouted back at him, feeling tears gather at the corner of her eyes. “My orders came from the White House.” She added plainly, begging him with her eyes to understand.
Tom sighed, running a hand over his face in resignation, as Laelia let loose a quiet sound. His eagle dipped her head after a short moment, nudging Callidus' cheek in silent apology.
“Well, you led the Russians right to us and endangered my entire crew.” Chandler informed her wearily, finally realizing what a mess this mission really was.
“It was imperative that I stay in contact with the labs back home to keep them informed of my progress.
I don't think you understand what we're talking about here.” Rachel cried, feeling the irrational need to justify herself in his eyes.
“Enlighten me.” He hissed.
“When we left Norfolk, the virus was at Phase Two, limited to small clusters in Asia and Africa.
We are now at Phase Six... global pandemic. The world is sick, Captain Chandler, very sick.”
The Captain heaved a sigh, bringing a hand up to his chin in thought as he turned to pace away from her. But after only a few steps he turned back abruptly to confront her once more.
“Are you telling me the whole world is dying, and they send two people to save it?” He asked, incredulously, his eyes imploring her to say it wasn't so. Sudden pity for him and his family welled up in her heart, turning her voice shaky.
“It took weeks to convince the government to even send me here. Most of my colleagues think that I'm insane.” She answered lowly, knowing that she crushed any hope he could have.
“Are you?” He asked, unable to bear not knowing the truth any longer.
“No.” She uttered boldly, wanting to be certain they understood each other on this, at least.
“I told you before, that the samples in that case might be the only hope we have. I firmly believe this with all of my heart. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here – and I certainly wouldn't have dragged you along with me.” She whispered.
Silence fell in the hanger bay. The two of them regarding each other with a better understanding, but with new found wariness. The freshly uncovered secrets laying open yet heavy in air between them. The stakes had been raised and the Commander wasn't quite sure what to make of this lovely Doctor, capable of both deceiving him and saving all of humanity in the very same moment.
Into this quiet tension stepped XO Slattery, his coyote Mariana slipping lithely through his legs to trot into the room, falling back on her haunches as she spotted Callidus and Laelia, huddled together on the side of the medical cot beside Rachel. Laelia was still perched above him, wings unfurled halfway to canopy around his curled form. Callidus had moved marginally, winding himself trustingly within and throughout her wicked talons where she pinned his narrow body to the sheets.
She couldn't take a step now, even if she wanted to, the serpent's coils wound about her legs so thoroughly. Yet neither one of them looked the slightest bit concerned at their precarious positions. In fact, Ana thought they both looked rather smug, mutually threatening and caressing each other at the same time. If the situation wasn't so serious, she probably would have cackled in delight.
Mike shot the two a curious look, tuning his attention to the Captain. They would both file the sight away for later, as was their habit after so many long years on the homicide division at CPD.
“Captain, we have the President of the United States waiting to speak with you on vidcom.” He announced, causing Tom to turn and stare at him in amazement. Chandler studied him for a moment, a frown forming on his face. There was something wrong with the expression Mike was wearing, his eyes holding a haunted look. Something had gone desperately wrong at the White House.
“I'm sorry you had to find out this way.” Rachel murmured regretfully, pausing for a moment to gauge his mood. “Is it alright if I take my samples now?”
He threw up his hands in helpless frustration, feeling the situation move swiftly beyond his control. Without a word he turned for the door, dreading the upcoming conversation with his Commander in Chief. What new horrors awaited him?
