Quaranteam: Off the Grid Ch. 06-08

[Many thanks to CorruptingPower, Ronan, OtterlyMindblowing, BreakTheBar, The Licentious Laureate, Julius Drake, Agathon, 32Inch, and Lokisluckwriting for not only permission to write in this shared world but also for the help and support to write all of this. Check out their work!

These chapters include investigation, admissions, tears, and finding their way into a new relationship.

-Bronan The Librarian]

Chapter Six

-o0o-

July 23rd, 2020

Grace helped Colin collect the bits and pieces that he had brought with him and loaded it all into the car. She noticed the pair of bullet holes and shuddered. Had Commander Jones escaped? What kind of punishment would be leveled for losing the second case of serum from her humvee? Would they even make it back or were there still those trucks waiting for them to come down from the mountains? She shook her head and slammed the trunk shut. Nothing to do but go back and face the music.

They climbed in, Grace without her uniform jacket and helmet while Colin wore an old flannel shirt and some jeans. If they were spotted leaving there was hope that she would look like any other blonde in a tan t-shirt. While she kept the M4 with her the shotgun had been left unloaded in the trunk. The camp security was likely to be on edge, so they had agreed to play it as cool as possible without being unable to defend themselves.

Pulling out onto the road they kept to the speed limit and Grace frequently watched behind them to make sure that they weren't being followed. They took the same back road that they had come up in the storm the night before and rejoined the main highway south of the ambush site. 20 minutes after that, they came back into cell range. Colin suspected that power had been sabotaged in a pretty wide area to knock out as many of the towers as possible and prevent any calls for help. Her phone had started pinging with messages the moment that they came over a hill and she winced at some of them that had come in later.

Grace was on the phone as soon as she had finished checking the messages. Colin was only getting half the story but he could tell that whomever was on the other end of the call was shitting bricks. They were only about 10 minutes from the edge of camp when Grace took a moment and told Colin to pull over and turn off the car.

He was concerned at the instructions, but even more so as he heard the rotors of a helicopter approaching from the north and saw a pack of armored vehicles coming from the south. "Colin, just do what they say and we'll get this cleared up, ok?"

He was very much unconvinced by her tone as she said that.

Colin recognized the chopper as a Blackhawk and had seen troops combat drop in on ziplines in the movies. His current perspective of having them drop 20 yards behind his car and having them separate out to cover the car from all angles as the rotor wash kicked up dust was a lot less entertaining than with popcorn. A tinny voice from the sky blared out. "STEP OUT OF THE CAR. KEEP YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."

Colin had been pulled over a few times for speeding and once had to sit through a DUI test by a Montana state trooper who was hunting for out of state plates. This was nothing like that. A half dozen vehicles came storming up on the opposite side of the helicopter. Colin recognized four of them as MRAPs with belt fed machine guns on top. The other two were eight wheeled armored infantry carriers. It was no great leap of logic that told him this since as soon as they rolled to a stop packs of pissed looking soldiers piled out of each.

He and Grace waited as instructed on their knees next to each other in the center of the road as they were secured with zip ties locking their hands behind their backs and to their belt. As they were picked up by the variety of armed guards Grace frantically caught his eye as they were moved to separate APCs. He had never really learned to read lips, but he was pretty sure that she was trying to say "Sorry."

-o0o-

Commander Jones leaned back in his chair. Sharron held tightly to his hand and he quietly enjoyed the comfort it provided. The second member of his Team, Doctor Sharron Jones had warned him about the departure from the original plan. They had been moving doses of the serum out of hubs to Level 4 and 5 Teams for the last couple of weeks without issues. There were reports of multiple probes or abduction attempts against project staff and assets. And in spite of the warnings he himself had almost lost one of his bodyguards who was recovering in the medical tent under guard. He had lost 4 women under his command last night. But the news that Cressman was on her way back in was at least welcome.

Much less welcome was the report that the Feds had ordered her placed under detention pending an investigation.

In private Flannery was now suggesting that the medic had been somehow suborned by a foreign power and had been in contact with the combatants that had hit Jones. The Navy officer might have been caught with his pants down with the violence of the ambush but Flannery was already a step behind regarding Cressman. Getting jumped in an attack that would have been a complete success except for the semi-truck driver coming in too hot? And it happening in a quiet rural area on home soil during an operation that about 20 of the most trusted people in the nation knew all the details of? Someone had been expecting something close to what had been planned out for the convoy and was set up in advance. Which meant that the leak was someone who wouldn't be able to hide for long.

Jones tried not to jump to conclusions but he was really hoping that Flannery was guilty of more than just the corruption they already had him by the short hairs for.

Even as the convoy rolled out into the storm, Sharron had been calling back into the project headquarters to complain about Flannery and his stupidity. He had to have been among the least subtle men that either Jones or Sharron had ever met. Considering the personalities in the military and academia respectively that was a strong statement.

The nurse who had administered the dose to Grace was already back at Fairchild Air Force base and had been interviewed early this morning by outside investigators. Sharron was a researcher who had been on the periphery of the Quaranteam project and was currently collecting data on the physiological and psychological changes that came with imprinting. Considering that the entire surviving population of the world might have to live with these changes she considered it vital and Jones agreed. It also meant that her report of an officer trying to cut corners on procedure to get a specific woman dosed with no emergency circumstances had been acknowledged even before there was a body count involved.

Jones was next up on the list for the investigators, then Sharron, then Flannery and the one woman who had apparently willingly bonded to him. Cressman and the man whom she had apparently imprinted on would be the final two to speak their piece. The survivors and the troops at the camp were already referring to the night before as the Battle of the Bend and they had been interviewed. Forensic teams were still out there under guard and would probably take at least until tomorrow to get their findings in order.

A sharp knock on the door was followed instantly by two contrasting women in almost identical suits stepping inside the command trailer. Sharron squeezed his hand before leaving, already knowing that they would need to be apart for this conversation as much as she hated it. The investigators nodded and let Sharron out of the office before turning their probing looks onto Commander Jones. It was going to be a long morning.

-o0o-

Colin was somewhat surprised about what the movies got right about being detained by the military and what they didn't.

There was certainly no phone call and he hadn't felt cheeky enough to try to ask for one. The fact that calling for a pizza was about the extent of who he could think to contact at the moment sealed his lips there. He was brought to a tent that stood 10 feet from the next one over and saw Grace's back disappearing into one that wasn't directly next to his. The inside appeared to seal completely and contained a cot, a table, a chemical toilet, two cameras in opposite corners, and a tablet plugged into an extension cord. A single, round window in each wall was the only light aside from a single LED bulb hanging from the center. The guards told him to sit tight, shut up, and don't do anything stupid.

The threat of the tasers they carried was entirely unnecessary but it did seem to make them feel better.

He realized pretty quickly that the tent was an isolation pod for DuoHalo patients in the town and that it was about the best that anyone could do for someone suffering from the disease. As noon rolled around a sandwich, chips and soda were delivered without a word. The next few hours were spent either trying to focus on watching the tablet or staring out the porthole-like windows of the tent that was becoming annoyingly hot in the afternoon sun. All he really had to do with his time was pondering the last 24 hours and how completely his life had changed.

He could see the corner of Grace's tent but that was about the most interesting thing in his view. The guards around him were all facing the tent and seemed to glare harder every time he looked in their direction which led to him abandoning the windows. Instead he paced back and forth in front of the entirely inadequate fan and sweated through his shirt. The shadows outside were definitely getting longer and he was beginning to wonder if dinner would appear at some point when he heard footsteps entering the circle of the guards outside the tent.

Without a preamble two women entered.

The first was curvy and black, standing maybe 5'8" or 5'9". Librarian glasses with transition lenses were slowly lightening as she stood inside the dimmer interior. He could see her checking him out, not in any kind of a sexual way but more like he was being judged, measured, cataloged, and she could recite any external detail about him with just that one look. Her companion was around 5'5" and filled out her charcoal pant suit like a new fridge fits in it's box. She wasn't ugly but if someone had introduced her as a member of the East German Olympic swim team he would have believed it without a second thought. The curvy one gestured toward the table with its two chairs and took the seat opposite Colin. The brick-like one hovered near the door, almost certainly to watch him for reactions to questions or to lob something wild at him while he was focused on the other interrogator.

"Good afternoon, Mr Sullivan. I'm Agent Johnson with the FBI. That is Special Agent Johnson, also with the FBI."

His eyebrows raised as his eyes flicked between them. As his mouth opened Brick Johnson preempted him. "If you ask if we're related then we will call in the Security Forces and let them pistol whip you."

He closed his mouth.

The questions were simple at first. Name, place of birth, mother's maiden name, where he went to school. The personal questions about his family and their fate made him realize that he really should have asked for a lawyer before that point. If they were looking for someone with a motive to fuck around with a Duo vaccine then a guy who had lost his child and went to hide in the mountains like the Unibomber was practically gift wrapped for a prosecutor.

"The right to an attorney doesn't exist under martial law, Mr Sullivan. And why do you ask, do you suddenly feel like you need one?" Curvy Johnson asked. She wasn't acting like it was a "gotcha" moment but it was the same calm, measured tone that she had used the entire time. It was like she was an android perfectly calibrated to dig out answers.

"Agent Johnson, I understand the severity of all this. And that is why I really do not want any of this to get pinned on me."

The questions went on, covering everything from his time in the cabin all the way to the shooting and through the night and day after with Grace. He was wildly uncomfortable about that last subject, mainly because he wasn't supposed to know about the vaccine at all let alone have been balls deep in a woman with the experimental tech flowing through her veins.

As the hours went on, he was granted a break to use the chemical toilet in the corner before the question started again. Brick Johnson took over on occasion by mostly asking earlier questions in a slightly different way or bringing up his answers from earlier. He did his best to be honest and consistent, though this did result in getting into two separate arguments with Brick over semantics and if his answers were really all that close to what he had said the first time. With night fully fallen the Agents Johnson packed their notes and left. Brick told him not to go anywhere with a smirk.

Colin was pissed but did admit to himself that it was a pretty funny line.

When the late dinner of a sandwich that was functionally identical to the one he had for lunch arrived he tried to ask about cracking a window to let in the breeze. The guards gave him a weird look but didn't actually say anything to him. When he looked out the window a minute later, however, several of the guards had gathered around the one who had dropped off dinner. They were looking at something on her phone, the light illuminating the gaggle of them. They all looked up at his face in the isolation tent window at the same time. The staring continued for a long moment until he waved.

The women spoke animatedly to each other for another few moments before they dispersed. That had been.... Creepy.

The last of the light had disappeared from the sky that he could see, any stars washed out by the stadium style lights that illuminated the exteriors of all the isolation tents. Whatever was happening he found himself hoping that Grace was at least in better conditions than he was. He lay on the cot sweating and focused on his breathing until sleep finally claimed him.

-o0o-

Grace spent part of the night after her interview with the Feds tossing and turning. She tried to sleep but found it impossible. Ever since she had imprinted onto Colin they had been close to each other. She hadn't anticipated the amount of anxiety that being away from him would cause. Sharron had come by and spoken with her about what had happened after she escaped and the investigation was started. The conversation had turned to Flannery and Sharron had been grim.

"Honey, as soon as we figured out what this vaccine was going to require of women we knew that someone or other was going to try and abuse it. I am so sorry that you got caught up in that. We don't know if the Colonel was involved with anything else yesterday but we have his ass dead to rights on what he did to you."

The younger woman had taken the opportunity to talk about the entire experience... especially her worries about Colin. "I know that there are supposed to be some emotional aspects to this whole thing but.... Doctor, I didn't even know his name until the next morning. And now not having him here is honestly freaking me out."

Sharron nodded and promised that he would be given the Oracle test as soon as things were cleared up. "Grace, you were stressed because of the serum and the way that you had it delivered to you. You were stressed because you had to go to an officer you didn't know in order to avoid the bastard who did this to you. You were in combat for the first time! Girl if you weren't feeling like you're in over your head I'd be more worried. It is 110% normal to need to reflect on all this."

Sharron had paused and looked at her notes before continuing. "You are on the extreme end of ANY possible introduction and imprinting. We suspect that stress may play a part in some of the reactions we see, especially when it comes to emotional bonding. So you are probably getting both the effects of the serum and good ol' fashioned trauma bonding to boot."

By the end of an hour together Sharron had left a notebook and asked Grace to keep a log of all the anomalous things she noticed about her body and her reactions to her partner. "Every data point we get from you and the other early subjects of the serum are worth their weight in gold for the future. Millions of women are going to get this stuff and we have no idea what the long term fallout will be. And as for Mr Sullivan? Well if he turns out to be a problem you call me and I will get him handled."

Grace believed her.

After the good doctor left there were several of the Air Force girls she had gotten to know who came by to gossip. They wanted to check on her, sure, but they all knew that the real reason was to dish about everything that had happened in the last few days. It was a better conversation than their usual worries about the dwindling population of the town they were surrounding.

The Colonel was under guard in one of the command trailers after everything had been pulled out except a bare cot and a shitter. He was on a suicide watch, not because anyone thought he had the guts to end his own life but instead to make sure that he had no possibility of communication with the outside world. Commander Jones had to be pulled away by the security forces when he got back to the camp. The shouting match had been public enough that it was all over the camp at this point. Jones had stopped just short of accusing Flannery of treason after the Colonel had smoothed his walrus mustache and smugly announced that Jones "had no proof of wrongdoing."

The smug look evaporated when he was cuffed and arrested under Article 112a of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: Possession or distribution of a controlled substance. The timestamp of Grace's injection and the later timestamp of her Oracle test were all the evidence they needed for that charge. The FBI was investigating not just the ambush but also to find out where the Colonel had gotten access to the serum information. He didn't have official clearance for that project, apparently, so the assumption was that someone he had worked with during his time with a DARPA linked lab had sent him the data quietly and he had lifted some vaccine from the Air Force base.

Once they had finished talking about Flannery the talk had moved on to other subjects. The one that caught Grace completely off guard was how it felt to roll back in with a minor celebrity. The other women had stopped laughing when they realized Grace really didn't know. One of them, a slender Senior Airman from Oklahoma, had pulled out her phone. "I recognized him when I grabbed him a meal after those FBI bitches finished grilling him! Here, see?"

The picture was from a hospital waiting room at the beginning of everything back in April. She had seen it before but her Pharma classes and the early lockdown had been distracting her at the time. It was Colin, before he had grown out the beard. Holding.... Oh. Holding a limp form, shrouded in a blanket. One arm dangling out as he left, some ER doc holding their hand up in the background.

The girl went on, oblivious of the turmoil that had just landed in Grace's heart. "This guy was like, the face of the whole thing right when it started! A couple of places printed this picture out and put them on posters to convince people to stay at home or wear their masks or whatever." She tittered. "Weird to see him in the flesh, ya know? I kinda figured that he died after- what? What, Becky! I-"

The other girls had recognized that Grace was on the edge of tears from this revelation and silenced their friend. Quickly making excuses the pack of Air Force ladies disappeared into the night. Left to her own devices, Grace brought out her own phone and started searching everything she could about the man she had bound herself to. There wasn't much, honestly.