Chapter 9
1987words
The subsequent reconstruction work was handed over to the local government and international aid organizations, while the SEALs and our medical team withdrew to the relatively safe base for rest and recuperation.
The trauma brought by the ruins was twofold, etched both on the broken walls and remnants of the city, and branded in the heart of every survivor.
That day, a local woman with a veiled head came to our camp. She was the widow of the foreman who had been sacrificed in that cruel "choose one of two" decision.
She didn't cry or blame us, but simply handed us a thank-you letter written in Arabic through an interpreter.
She said that although her husband couldn't survive, she thanked us for giving him final dignity, and also thanked us for saving the young engineer, so he wouldn't have to be buried in darkness alongside her husband.
The letter was silently passed among the medical team members, and many young nurses' eyes welled up with tears.
That weighty understanding and gratitude, like a gentle medicine, comforted our souls that had been riddled with holes from being gnawed by death and helplessness these past days. Even the team leader, who had kept a stern face all along, had moisture glistening in the corners of his eyes.
As night fell, the clamor of the base gradually subsided. The fatigue of the day and the mental pressure made it almost impossible for me to fall asleep, so I quietly slipped out of the tent. To my surprise, as soon as I stepped outside, I saw Leo leaning against a Humvee.
He seemed to have anticipated that I would come out, and raised his chin slightly at me.
"Can't sleep?" he asked softly.
I nodded and walked to his side. "My mind is too chaotic," I gazed at the city silhouette in the distance being swallowed by darkness. "When I close my eyes, all I see is the flatlined heart monitor and the foreman's final gaze."
Leo didn't offer empty phrases like "you did your best." He simply opened the car door and took out a bottle of red wine and two rudimentary canteen cups. "Then don't sleep," he handed me a cup of wine, "the stars are nice tonight."
We sat side by side on the hood of the Humvee, gazing up at the vast river of stars. The desert night sky was exceptionally clear; those distant stars seemed almost within reach, shining unchangingly since ancient times, silently watching all the joys and sorrows of the human world.
We chatted about trivial topics, from the best pizza place in New York, to a dog named "General" that he had raised on a farm when he was little. Under the influence of alcohol and the night, my tense nerves gradually relaxed.
"Do you remember our kiss in New York?" he suddenly turned his head, his obsidian eyes twinkling under the starlight, filled with a tender smile.
My heart skipped a beat, of course I remembered. That kiss mixed with the aroma of red wine and intimate atmosphere, which almost ignited passion. I nodded, feeling my cheeks warming up. He didn't say anything more, just slowly leaned in closer.
His breath enveloped me, carrying a hint of rich red wine and the crisp desert night breeze. He first pecked my lips gently, as if testing the waters, and then that familiar kiss descended.
This time, there was no hesitation or restraint, only the relief of surviving a catastrophe and the cherishing of something lost and found. This kiss was deeper than the one in New York, more passionate, as if melting away all the fear, worry, and longing of these past days.
However, this moment of peace and sweetness, like a mirage in the desert, was destined to be brief.
In the early morning of the next day, Leo's phone vibrated in the darkness.
An anonymous message popped up on the screen, containing only a photo.
In the photo, Mr. Smith was tied up in an old warehouse, a rag stuffed in his mouth, his eyes filled with terror.
And on the wall behind him, written in blood, was a line:
"Trade him for Valkyrie's life. —A"
Leo's fingers froze on the screen.
The next morning, a piercing sound of tire friction broke the tranquility of the base. A pickup truck charged toward the base gate like a madman, raising clouds of dust behind it, with several SUVs equipped with machine guns in hot pursuit.
Before the vehicle had come to a complete stop, a familiar figure tumbled out from the driver's seat—it was none other than the selfish Mr. Smith from the rescue scene.
At this moment, his suit was already in tatters, his face filled with terror and bloodstains. He was shouting for help toward the base while desperately dodging bullets fired from behind.
"Mark! Suppressing fire!" Leo reacted almost instantly, grabbing his weapon and shouting to me, "Chloe, get back to the medical tent and don't come out!"
Mark led several team members to quickly set up defensive works at the base entrance. Their dense firepower immediately suppressed the pursuers, preventing them from raising their heads. Leo, like an agile cheetah, used cover to rapidly approach those few SUVs.
The intense firefight lasted less than five minutes. When the gunfire ceased, Leo had already taken control of the situation. He dragged a fierce-looking man with a full beard to stand before them.
When they clearly saw the man's face, both Leo and Mark's expressions changed.
"Argus?" Mark's voice was filled with disbelief.
The man called Argus lifted his head and grinned, revealing a set of teeth yellowed by tobacco. He looked at Leo, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery and a trace of complicated malice. "Long time no see, 'Apollo'. Didn't expect to run into you here."
Leo's face was so dark it could drip water, his hand gripping Argus's collar with fingers turning white from the force. "What are you doing here?"
"Doing business." Argus glanced at the still trembling Mr. Smith nearby and said contemptuously, "This fool stole something from the refinery ruins that doesn't belong to him.
I'm just here to take back my goods." He paused, leaned close to Leo's ear, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Hadram's blood diamonds, quite tasteful. I advise you not to interfere, Leo. You're no longer the captain who can order us around."
Blood diamond? Leo's pupils suddenly contracted. Argus was once one of his most trusted comrades, who had been forcibly discharged due to serious disciplinary violations during a classified operation, and had since vanished without a trace.
He never expected that when they met again, Argus would have become an arms dealer profiting from war and bloodshed. The fall of his former brother was like a needle, piercing deep into Leo's heart.
In the end, Leo still let Argus go. This wasn't a compromise, but a reluctant trade-off in a situation where friend and foe were unclear. Argus left with his men, leaving only a meaningful warning: "We'll meet again."
Back at the medical camp, Mr. Smith, still shaken by the events, quickly developed new symptoms. He began running a high fever that wouldn't break, his whole body convulsing, and strange bleeding spots even appeared on his skin.
These were definitely not symptoms of an ordinary infection. An ominous premonition loomed in the hearts of all medical staff.
"Suspected M3 virus infection," Eva said gravely to Mark and me after conducting a preliminary examination on him. "This is a rare hemorrhagic fever virus with an extremely high mortality rate. We must perform exploratory surgery immediately to locate the infection site."
The atmosphere in the operating room was incredibly tense. Eva and I, as the lead surgeons, carefully operated under the shadowless lamp while wearing airtight protective suits.
Mr. Smith's abdominal cavity was showing severe internal bleeding, and his blood had an abnormal dark red color.
Just as Eva was attempting to remove a necrotic tissue, the scalpel accidentally cut through her glove, and a drop of the patient's blood splashed onto the back of her hand.
Almost simultaneously, as I was passing a vascular clamp, my elbow inadvertently brushed against a blood-contaminated area at the edge of the operating table.
At that moment, time seemed to stand still. Eva and I exchanged glances, both seeing undisguisable horror in each other's eyes.
Although we immediately carried out the strictest disinfection and emergency procedures, the wheel of fate had already begun to turn. Hours later, the test results came back. I held that thin report in my hands, feeling as if it weighed a thousand pounds.
Eva Rostova, M3 Virus test, positive.
Chloe Sterling, M3 Virus test, negative.
When Eva learned of the results, she was unusually calm, though her face turned as white as paper. She looked at me, even forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. "At least... you're okay."
The entire medical camp was instantly placed under the highest level of alert, with Eva isolated in a separate tent. The news spread as quickly as a plague itself, and panic enveloped the entire base. The M3 Virus, with no Miracle Cure, was practically equivalent to a death sentence.
Upon learning the news, Mark was like a maddened bull. With bloodshot eyes, ignoring everyone's attempts to stop him, he charged toward the quarantine area like a madman. Several soldiers who tried to block him were knocked aside by his brute force.
"Get out of my way!" he roared, his voice completely distorted by extreme pain and anger.
He kicked open the isolation tent door and rushed to Eva's bedside. Eva lay there weakly, and when she saw him burst in, a flash of panic crossed her eyes. "Mark! Are you crazy?! Get out! It's dangerous in here!"
Mark wouldn't listen at all. He scooped Eva up from the bed with one motion, using all his strength to hold her tightly, so tightly in his arms, as if trying to merge her into his own flesh and blood.
This man, who had always been calm, composed, and hard as steel, was now trembling all over, hot tears sliding from the corners of his eyes, dropping onto Eva's hair.
"I don't care!" he sobbed next to her ear, his voice hoarse and desperate, "If we die, we die together! I should have told you long ago... I love you, Eva... I love you..."
Eva froze, allowing Mark to hold her as tears silently rolled down her cheeks. At the edge of life and death, all pretense and restraint became pale and powerless. She raised her trembling hand and hugged his broad back in return. "Fool... you big fool..."
Outside the quarantine zone, Leo's fist slammed hard onto the Humvee's hood, creating a dull thud. He had just received news from an informant that filled him with burning rage.
"Boss," a team member ran over, reporting anxiously, "We've found out that a batch of Miracle Cure for the M3 Virus was delivered to Hadram recently, intended for humanitarian aid.
But... yesterday, that medicine was stolen during transport by an unidentified armed group."
Leo suddenly raised his head, his eyes blazing with terrifying killing intent. He knew without asking who that unidentified armed group was. Argus. He not only stole the diamond but also took the medicine that could save Eva's life.
"He wants war," Leo's voice was as cold as the Siberian wind, "then I'll give him a war."
He turned and strode toward the armory, each step carrying the determination to pay any price. For his comrades, for those he protected, this time, he would personally descend into hell.
