Lobo Malo

Chapter 16 - Le Bel Inconnu

DCD Headquarters, Constitution Hall Sector
1132 EST

"What the hell is he thinking?" muttered Ryckmen to himself.

"You mean Peace?" Tarvey asked as he tested the door to the DCD research laboratory. "Well, seeing as I'm not psychic and he hasn't exactly cried on my shoulder, I'd only be guessing. But if I was guessing," he continued as he drew his sidearm and shot a junction box next to the door, "I'd say he's just a little bit upset with you."

"So he bolts on us because he doesn't like the fact I'm not convinced he's got something."

"I wouldn't say he bolted," Tarvey drawled as he pulled open the door and started down a short flight of stairs. "I would say that he got up early, grabbed a little help, and went to go prove you wrong. It's not like he's doing it out of spite, Lobo. He's trying to help you."

Ryckmen growled wordlessly as he brought the MDR to his shoulder. "Kelso, Lobo. We're in the ground floor lab. Outer sentries have been neutralized."

"Copy that, Lobo. You should be approaching the master control valve for the gas lines to the labs below you. Check and make sure it's still open."

"Copy. Out of curiosity, what biohazard level were the DCD's labs built for?"

"They were capped at BSL-3. Didn't want something too dangerous getting loose inside D.C. Certainly not a stone's throw from the White House."

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause SARS and West Nile are just the sort of cute and cuddly infections that should be allowed inside the District," snorted Tarvey.

"Behave, Ricky," Kelso admonished. "Besides, you know a mosquito infected with West Nile wouldn't bite a member of Congress. It'd be a breach of professional etiquette."

"Thanks for the heads up, Kelso. We'll see about shutting this place down right.  Lobo, out." Ryckmen tapped his watch. "I tell you, Ricky, scariest thing I ever saw in New York was Amherst's lab. I mean, I'd seen JTF troops tortured to death, I saw civilians who'd been burned alive, but nothing scared me as much as that bodega hot lab. It was definitely not certified BSL-4. I had nightmares about that place for a few weeks after I found it, and there was hardly anything in it."

"I can well imagine."

The two agents split up, each covering one side of the large BSL-2 lab area. Standing above the work spaces were pairs of Outcasts, roaming around, almost bored. Ryckmen would have called it sloppy if he hadn't taken Kelso's earlier briefing to heart. They are not going to let death slow them down, she'd warned him. Do your absolute best to avoid touching any of their corpses once you kill them. Do not give them a chance to get back up if they appear to go down. If you haven't been keeping up on your Mozambique drills, take an hour or two down at the range. He'd assured her he was perfectly prepared to expend the necessary ammo. A small part of him had to wonder if they could realistically survive more than a couple 7.62mm NATO rounds. The rest of him remembered some of the more hairy fights he'd experienced, seeing a few truly extraordinary Taliban fighters in Afghanistan soak up over a dozen hits that should have killed them stone dead. Making a mental nod, Ryckmen shouldered his MDR and took a bead on the nearest Outcast.

"Engage at will." Both agents were using battle rifles, keeping their rate of fire restricted to reduce the chance of accidentally releasing a pathogen. When working up their loadout and their tactics, Tarvey had jokingly put on a Scottish brogue and stared earnestly at his comrade. "Be careful what you shoot at, Ryckmen. Some things in there don't react well to bullets." It had been a moment of badly needed levity to help clear the mind and focus on the mission. The roaming Outcasts never realized what hit them, the match grade ammunition drilling through and causing massive amounts of hydrostatic shock as they exploded out the far sides of their skulls and torsos. With the room cleared, Ryckmen stayed put as Tarvey went over to the controls and opened the line up. Moving over to the elevator shafts, the two agents used quick ascenders to make their way up to the next floor and stepped out into a short corridor.