Quaranteam - AU Ch. 01

Quaranteam: Alternating Uncertainties

Chapter 1

This is a spinoff of CorruptingPower's Quaranteam Universe. Reading his outstanding work and the spinoffs by others within the community finally managed to break through my writer's block, and so, here we are. Though set in the main universe, things might seem a little upside-down or out of the ordinary, as the 'realities' of Australia, yet untold, come to light. Thanks to Agathon, Birches, Otterly and Corrupting for the advice and keen eyes. Check out their work, QT and otherwise. This work is written with the consent of CorruptingPower.

Melbourne South-East Suburbs, Victoria - October 21, 2020 - 08:30 AM AEDT

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The ringing of his phone brought Ty out of his focus but did nothing to improve his mood. Sure, it was already his third time reading this book, but what else could he do with so much spare time? Over the course of the last ten months, the only times his phone had gone off was to inform him of the passing of friends; victims of the pandemic. No, a phone call had long since become the harbinger of another friend's fate. He pushed the empty coffee mug aside as he closed his steel gray eyes and stretched his large frame across the desk, letting the cool wood play across his forehead.

DuoHalo. The pandemic that had swept the entire world from the start of the year and had left mountains of corpses in its wake. Tens, no, hundreds of millions dead; men more so than women. For every two women that succumbed, eight men perished. Numbers like never before, all over the globe, at least from what news was going around.

At least for Major Tiberius Marshall, Australian Armed Forces SASR (ret.), the lockdowns had hit after his physical therapy had concluded, so he didn't have to risk venturing out beyond his local neighborhood to get some exercise or air. Not that his 'neighborhood' actually had that many neighbors left in it. All gone. Dead. He'd watched from the safety of his window as the hazmat-equipped paramedics loaded literal dump trucks with bodies. A sight he'd never forget, no matter how much he wanted to. A sight almost more traumatizing than the battlefields and blood he'd waded through on duty.

Absently, he brushed his free hand across his left thigh, ignoring the twinge of the muscles. An accident during an op had brought his career to an early end, and maneuvering from a politically connected colleague had seen him get a discharge instead of a sidestep into a staff role. Not that Tiberius minded that part. He had taken to teaching between ops even before his accident and could pivot now into full time teaching, though recently his work had been through remote classrooms. In the end, he hadn't really left the military circle, thanks to friends looking out for him. It had even allowed him to maintain his security clearance.

He sighed, knowing that he'd best stop delaying the inevitable. He flipped his book shut and answered the call without looking at the display.

"Hello? This is Tibierius."

"Hello Major. This is Captain Grace Lawry, USAF. Remember me?"

Sitting bolt upright, Ty certainly had no difficulties in remembering the svelte Captain. Though when they'd last met, she'd been a Lieutenant. A complete hellcat, even now, he could picture her in his mind's eye. Tall and slim at 5'7", with her long oak-brown hair always pulled back into either a ponytail or a bun and an easy smile on her face belying her fiercely capable nature. She had acted as an assistant to him during a secondment to the USAF, one of his earlier ventures into training others in SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape) tactics. Though the doctrine used by the SAS was different to that used by the RAAF or even the USAF, the powers that be seemed to prefer his version, and he wasn't about to complain.

"Grace! How the hell are ya? I haven't heard from you since...shit, it's been nearly a full year now hasn't it? Congratulations on the promotion, I hope."

"Thank you, and it has Ty, though I expect you understand why. The last ten months have been..."

Ty snorted and ran a hand through his short black hair, knowing full well that words didn't do the situation justice.

"Fuckin' chaos? Yeah, you're not wrong. This bullshit with COVID, right before some asswipe drops this bastard DuoHalo on the world. The death tolls alone...I hesitate to ask; your people come through ok?"

She sighed, a heavy sound and Tiberius knew what was coming would not be pleasant.

"Mostly. My nephew, Jason - he didn't make it. He was in the Kill Zone."

The 'Kill Zone'. Whichever soulless bastard had deigned to call it that had got it right, though. Anyone, male or female, from ages 12-18 who got DuoHalo, died. It wasn't a possibility. It was a guarantee.

An outside observer could visibly see the burly 6'4" man deflate like a popped balloon. He'd met Grace's sister Temperance and nephew Jason at a small gathering before he'd finished that assignment. He'd really liked the kid. Smart and assertive, but kind. He was showing all the signs of a good leader and a capable young man. He'd forgotten that Jason would be turning 15. Now the poor boy had become just another statistic and his family would grieve for something they had no hope of changing.

"Oh fuck. I'm so sorry Grace. How's Temperance holding up? And Martin?"

"It's ok. From what we know now, it was inevitable. Jason was right in the middle of the range. As for Tempe, she's slowly recovering. Martin has been her rock and we're all thankful for it."

"Everything I saw of Martin inspires me to agree. He's good people. Still, losing family hurts." Ty thought about his own family. Parents passed away long ago, and his brother called so infrequently it may as well not happen. "I haven't heard from Damo in months, but the big wigs haven't come knocking to tell me he's dead, so I assume he's just laying low and can't be arsed calling. But putting that aside, the way you addressed me tells me that this wasn't intended to be a social call. What's up?"

"A couple of things Ty. Are you aware that the US has developed a vaccine for DuoHalo?"

Tiberius nearly dropped the phone in shock. A vaccine, after ten goddamned months. He briefly wondered how many of his people were even left to save, but every life mattered, and now there was hope. Australia had been devastated, beyond the scope of just about any other country on the planet, save maybe Russia or China, but nobody knew the real numbers there. Or if they did, they weren't telling anyone else.

"No! Holy shit! Is it viable? Mass production? What are we looking at for a distribution timetable?"

"Viable? Yes. Mass producible? Yes. Our timetable...we planned to open international negotiations tomorrow, to be honest. We started baseline discussions back in July, but there were still some things to iron out. In all fairness, there are still some finicky bits to it, but it works. I wanted to check in with you and see if you'd be our point of contact for rollout within Australia? Our higher-ups like you, and we'll ensure you're one of the first to get it, after whatever your bureaucracy decides during our negotiations." Grace paused, and her tone became just a tiny bit more hesitant. "Just be aware that there are some conditions and some...things, you'll need to understand that are absolutely essential to your continued protection. That'll be explained later. However, that brings me to the second thing, and that could be a hitch in the works."

"Making me your contact is no drama. Just make sure you pass that tidbit on through command and I recommend you do the negotiating through the Army. Parliament is on permanent hiatus, mostly due to everybody being fucking dead. But telling me there's a hitch: that does not sound good. I don't like hitches, especially not put like that. Lay it on me."

Grace hesitated only a moment before plowing ahead. "So, earlier today, our time, one of the project leads on our vaccine program, Dr. Phil Marcos, was attacked. Drone payload and a two man strike team. Whether the objective was snatch or kill remains unknown, since the attempt was thwarted."

The implications of that clicked instantly and Tiberius felt his spine grow cold. "Oh balls, you think we're involved."

"Do the names Kerry Butler or Paul Isaacs mean anything to you?"

"Ker and Paul are Damo's squadmates. Operators. Fuck. My. Life. Grace, I need to make some calls. This can't be a sanctioned op. That means they've either been given some unsanctioned orders by someone jumping the gun, or they've gone rogue. Both options are bad news. That said, my bets are on unsanctioned."

"You're certain?"

Unconsciously, Tiberius' hand slammed onto the table, anger coming through clearly in his next words.

"Certain? Fuck no. You know full well that there's no accounting for stupid leadership. You had a fucking brain-dead carrot in office until his own stupid claimed him. Likewise, we had a completely useless fuck-knuckle as our Prime Moron until he went the way of the dodo himself. Him and that fucking Binchicken bitch. Her refusal to lock Sydney down for a full fucking week after people startind dropping dead may have destroyed this country. But I digress. Something this monumentally stupid, against an ally? Not bloody likely. Nobody smart enough to still be alive and high enough ranked to actually order something like that would. It'd be political suicide."

"What are the odds this is black bag beyond your clearance?"

"Sure, it's possible. I can't imagine why they'd do it though. I don't claim to have complete knowledge of our black ops shit or anything, but nothing about this makes sense." Ty scratched at his beard, knowing that he couldn't solve this without external help. "Hold on, you said discussions about the vaccine started back in July...did they just go quiet or have you been feeding us info?"

"I think we asked the countries we spoke to to hold on until we had everything ready, why?"

"Because if there was no communication for some time, it's entirely possible that some mid-level officer panicked that we'd been forgotten and decided to get creative. Despite our best efforts, even our chain of command is a little disrupted, so I'll try to let you know what I learn as soon as I can. I'm certain Baz, sorry, Brigadier Davis will have a better idea and he needs to know about the vaccine as soon as possible, so he can let the bigger wigs know."

"Okay Ty. I can have someone get in contact with official channels, but we'd prefer to go through the military for distribution. That's how we've been handling it. And whoever contacts your people will insist we go through you. Your name still holds tremendous goodwill with us."

"That's good to know. You take care, Grace. I'll be in touch ASAP."

"I'll get the ball rolling over here. You do your part."

"Sure thing. We'll catch up in person once this shitstorm blows over, yeah?"

"Count on it. Though, it'll just be drinks between friends this time. I've got a partner."

"No worries. I can always use more friends. Is it getting serious?"

"Huh? Oh, right. You'll understand soon Ty. Welcome to the New World."

Slapping the phone back onto the table, Tiberius sighed, head thudding back onto the desk. This - this was worse than learning someone was dead. If Damian was actually involved in this circus, what would that mean for him? Death? Charges of treason? War crimes? Did Tiberius' clearance even cover the kind of op that this would fall under?

"This day went from bad to good to utterly fucked in less than five minutes. How the hell do I call Baz and ask that?" His muffled voice carried clear notes of his distress, not that anyone was around to hear it.

As it turned out, the decision was made for him as his phone began to ring again. Tiberius just stared at the caller ID - Barry Davis - Brigadier Barry Davis. Baz. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone.

"Speak of the devil and he rings ya on the phone. What's up Baz?"

"Prep for exfil Ty. Someone's done fucked us good. You been in touch with Damian at all?"

"Nice to hear from you too, mate. And nah, not for months.You know the bastard doesn't call me unless he has to. And you haven't told me he's dead, so does this have something to do with why the USAF called me earlier?"

"They did? Well fuck. Most likely Ty. Fucking hell, they fucking called you before us? Alright. Fine. Whatever. Helo is inbound. ETA twenty. I need you here."

"Yeah, alright. I'll put something clean on. The other thing, Baz. Grace was pretty fucking concerned. Did we really -"

"This line is insecure Ty. We'll talk about it on base."

"Jesus fucking wept Baz! You do realize I've already fucking talked about it on this line. Just fucking minutes ago mate. It's a bit too fucking late to worry about secure, but fine. Let me give you the short version. US. Vaccine. Negotiations. Us. Well, me. But the point stands. The rest we'll discuss in person, like you wanted."

"You're sure? Oh crikey. Sophie has just handed me a report confirming that. Ok mate, effective immediately, you are reinstated to active duty, and I'm promoting you. You're on my staff now. Welcome back, Lieutenant Colonel." Baz paused, considering something. "I'll have Sophie file the paperwork now. It'll be sorted by the time you get here. Think you can still fit your Service Dress?"

Tiberius started at that. Something didn't add up. "File the paperwork? What? She has to do it all first, right? It'll take weeks before it's all sorted."

"Don't be stupid. The paperwork has been ready since January. Nobody with a brain actually wanted you gone, so nobody actually filed your discharge paperwork. We've basically been treating the whole thing like you've been on a long-ass sickie, so the only thing we need to file is a return to service form. So, your uniform?"

Tiberius laughed, though there was little actual humor in it, if anything, he'd become even more fit than he'd been while active. Most likely something to do with the lack of paperwork and extra time to work out, he mused.

"They'll fit, Baz. Wait, it's 'sir' now you've gone and dragged me back in, Brigadier Davis."

"You fuck right off cunt. You don't call me that until you're here and in uniform. And if you call me that off base I'll gut ya."

This time Ty did laugh, and it felt good. Barry was one of his closest friends and was known to be a bit of a bleeding heart, so Tiberius had been utterly terrified that he'd pull some nonsense to help a stranger and catch the plague. So far, he'd been smart about it. Or lucky. Or both. "It's all good Baz, I haven't changed shape. Not really. Who else is on base?"

"One hundred and twenty-five personnel are on base right now. That said, among our male officers, only Major Connors. Captain Whittaker, Captain Thomson, Captain Brown and Colonel Anderson are actually still alive. And myself, naturally."

Tiberius spat, the disgust evident in his tone. "Six. When there were originally twenty. And really? Major Connors? Just my fucking luck that that fucking knob survived.I suppose he got promoted in the wake of me getting the supposed boot?"

"Right in one, mate. I'd say he's as useless as tits on a bull, but oath, he's worse. Mummy's little princeling. Spoiled fucking wanker. He's going to ask to get the negotiation bit, you know."

"Fuck him. They've specifically asked for me. Especially after last time."

"Too right. Anyway, forget about that for now. Just get cleaned up before the bird arrives. Cover up. If we go through all this fucking trouble, just to lose you to Duo..."

"Right, right. I'll go get sorted. See you in a bit, mate."

Hanging up again, Tiberius stood and stretched, feeling like he'd aged ten years over the past ten minutes. Barely past noon and the sheer rollercoaster of emotions had taken its toll on him. He grabbed a notepad and pen, scrawled a quick note and stuck it to his front door, telling whoever was coming to get him to just let themselves in if he didn't answer. There was coffee on the counter and mugs above the machine. They'd manage. Immediately after, he sent Grace a text, asking if she could forward any documentation regarding the vaccine and threw himself into the bathroom.

While Tiberius habitually kept himself groomed, it was still worth the time to clean up, at least a little. Propriety. That's what he told himself, and not that he was looking forward to seeing several people in person, even if he couldn't actually come into contact with them. Not yet, anyway. As he trimmed his beard, he glanced down at himself in the mirror. Mixed features, strong jaw, distinctly European eyes, courtesy of his great-grandmother's Italian heritage. Muscular, but not grotesquely so. Quite a bit above average for a man in his 30s. A nice tan, courtesy of the Australian sun, interspaced by paler skin stretched across various scars. He had earned each and every one and was proud of them. Each one had a story, and he knew what he was fighting for when he earned them.

Except one.

Stepping into the shower, Tiberius realized he'd still never shaken the suspicion that the shot that had crippled him had been purposeful friendly fire, but all of the after-action reports he'd seen carefully avoided the subject. Don't want to accidentally ruin careers with wild accusations, they said. Fucking politics. More like mummy didn't want her baby's name tarnished. Jaxson Connors was a snake, and his mother Wendy, a powerful MP, was an entirely different breed of pit viper. At least Jaxson was, for the most part, incompetent. Wendy Connors was smart and vicious. She wanted power, and she didn't care how. He'd have to make sure that Grace's people steamrolled right over any of her objections, or they'd gain traction and everybody still alive would suffer. After everything else, Tiberius was not ready to let Wendy Conners and her hellspawn son be the end of Australia and her people. Assuming she'd survived. He briefly wondered at the morality of hoping someone had actually succumbed to the plague, even if they were a power-hungry harpy.

With his ablutions out of the way, Tiberius donned his uniform, running his hands over the epaulets as he remembered Baz's words regarding his rank. If the Brigadier's words were serious, he'd be a Lieutenant Colonel the moment he stepped onto the base. As he grabbed a fresh mask and his shoulder bag, voices from down below made Tiberius smile. He knew those voices, and he spoke to them over the phone every so often, it was damned good to be able to see that they were safe.

"Well well, if this ain't a sight for sore eyes. Lottie, Lettie, it's great to see ya. I'd give ya a hug, but distancing and all that."

Two identical young women stood in his kitchen, each holding a steaming mug of coffee. Well, mostly identical. Captain Charlotte Valiant, or Lottie as she preferred, had her deep red hair pulled into a ponytail, while her twin, Captain Leticia Valiant, Lettie, had hers in a stylish bob. Standing at 5'5" on the dot, the graceful curves on their lithe frames were a treat Tiberius had struggled to keep his eyes (and hands) off of for years. Even without his personal attraction to them, Tiberius had to admit they looked positively stunning in uniform.

"Too right Ty. We didn't stay away from our best guy for 10 months to accidentally kill you now. Are you good to go? Brigadier Davis said to come get you, but he was kinda light on details except that we go fast. Oh,and a bunch of messages just came through on your iPad." Lottie called out and smiled as she rinsed out her mug.

"Yeah, I'm sorted. Just let me lock up. Can you get a couple travel mugs from that cupboard for the flight crew? Sure they'd appreciate a cuppa that isn't that shit they serve on base."