Patient Zero

Five minutes to Midnight

There once was a town in New Mexico by the Name of Hot Springs. Formed in 1912, the town remained a sleepy desert city with nothing to note until almost forty years later when a popular radio program forever lost to time promised to visit the first city to name themselves after their show. Now going by the name of Truth or Consequences, the town remained rather uninteresting besides having a name that causes the reader to make a double take.

But that all changed during one hot night in August of 2017.

A meteor shot across the desert skyline lighting the night like the second coming of Christ, but what it brought was anything but divine. An old man, enjoying the warm night air in the driver's seat of his flatbed truck with a crane assembly, was sipping on a beer when he saw the foreign object coming for him, and as it touched down, he sped after it with dollar signs on his mind.

He wasn't seen again until 3 days later, when he stumbled into the Emergency Room of the local Veteran's Hospital, shivering uncontrollably, blisters and black organic spikes puncturing through his body, moaning for help before his eyes shot blood red and he broke into an uncontrollable rage.

That was over a week ago.

The dark desert town was alight with sporadic gunfire from commando teams running missions in the quarantine zone. The Chimera virus, a fever of unknown origin, looked to have even infected the very earth as spiked black and red growths penetrated through the asphalt of the streets, through cars, and even impaled buildings like freshly speared fish. But, for as dire as things seemed to be, the situation was finally looking up.

Like an Aztec priest cutting the beating heart from a defeated enemy. Three explosions erupted from within the workshop of the first infected resident of Truth or Consequences. Like the bird of prey that it was named after, a Boeing V-22 Osprey set its twin propeller turbine engines to hover and lowered a winch to the ground. Soon afterwards, the Osprey raised its winch and gained altitude, raising its prize from the scrap shop.

What it held in its netting looked to be (until proper investigation) a satellite of some kind, a human space vehicle which upon reentry had brought the alien plague to Earth. Whatever it was, hopefully it held the key curing the infection.

The Osprey rose in the air and was joined by an escort of MH-6 Little Birds, all armed with Miniguns and rocket pods as they made a direct course out of the quarantine zone and into a safe containment field.

While all of this was going on in the air, an armored car rolled up to the salvage yard and three men entered through the back door, closing it and banging on the driver's window for him to commence exfiltration.

Although they had different levels of protection on, each man was covered in a yellow hazardous material suit, over which they were tied up with armored plate carriers and assault webbing with ammunition, grenades, knives, and guns. The armored car began moving, and the built in Air Recycler activated, causing a yellow light to blink in the rear compartment as the air was recycled out and fresh and clean air replaced it. Eventually, the light turned green, signifying that the environment was sterile.

The man sitting furthest in the armored vehicle set his weapon – and assault rifle with an undermounted shotgun attachment- aside in the weapon rack and removed his mask, taking in a deep breath of the recycled air. Sébastien "Buck" Côté, a French-Canadian from the Mounted Police's antiterrorism unit leaned forward in a relaxed position and looked at his two companions and smiled, saying, "Now that the mission's over, how's about we go find a bar and grab some beers or maybe get a cocktail with the shrimps, no?"

In the middle of the compartment, a man in heavy armor over his hazard suit pulled up the visor on his riot shield. He was wearing bright blue silicone surgeon's gloves on his hands. Gustave "Doc" Kateb, was a member of the French Groupe d'Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale. He was a doctor with Humanitarian beliefs so strong that he would pick up arms and fight on the front lines to save lives. He looked over at his Canadian counterpart and agreed to the premise of raiding the bar on the way to safety.

The final member of their team was sitting near the door to the armored vehicle. He was heavily armored like his French counterpart while at the same time also being heavily armed like the Canadian as well. Like the other two, he wore all of his armor and weapons over a yellow hazard suit, but he had no mask. Instead, what adorned his head was a heavy helmet made from the same composite as tanks. It covered his cranium completely with only a small slit at eye level to see and a heavy mouthpiece that could retract to the top. Alexsandr "Tachanka" Senaviev set his Saiga 12 semiautomatic shotgun down in the slot by his chair before sliding the pieces of his large DP-28 machinegun on the floor of the transport gently. With the extra weight off, the Russian leaned back in his chair and looked at the two Francophones and crossed his arms on his chest, saying, "and people say Russians have a drinking problem."

All three companions laughed. Shortly afterwards, their radios all began broadcasting. "Rainbow-1. This is Rainbow Six Actual, do you read me?" asked a male's voice. "Rainbow Six", the unit that these men belonged to, was an elite international counterterrorism unit. "Rainbow" meaning that the task force did not fall under the jurisdiction of one government alone, and "Six" in honor of the first six nations that agreed that a boundless team that could deal quickly and effectively in volatile scenarios was a necessary tool in the goal of making a world free of terror. Sure, they weren't specialized in dealing with hostile encounters with an alien pathogen, but then again who was?

Acting as their commanding officer for the duration of the incident, Jordan "Thermite" Trace, was a Texan with a refined taste for explosions. Although preferring to be there with him, he none the less performed his support role diligently. "Nobody else is going to say it at the moment, but good job out there today." The three appreciated the compliment, but knew it came with a catch. "It looks like you did some major damage to the 'Roaches'. From our drone recon it looks like they're all going berserk out there. Also, Doc, Doctor Macintosh has made some headway in cultivating a vaccine, I thought you'd like to know that."

"Bon." The Frenchman replied.

"but, we're not out of the woods yet. Roaches are starting to make a coordinated push to break quarantine, and we also have another development. This is going to be our best opportunity to jump on this. As long as you're up to it."

Buck frowned. Although he wasn't one to complain, he did feel that an explanation to their immediate redeployment was deserved. "Thermite, This is Buck. What about our other assets in the AO? I'd hate to make them feel left out."

"Lion and a team are extracting civilians while Finka, Ash, and Kap are running a torch and burn op at another nursery. You boys are the only unit not already tied up at the moment."

"Alright, I see. What the news?"

"Valkyrie and some analysts has been sifting through captured cam footage for most of the night. It looks like they've found something or someone walking the streets for the last few hours. No luck on an I.D. at this time, but it looks to be a humanoid in a jumpsuit, shorter than average height. Piecing together the path, it looks like it was heading towards a big house on the edge of town. Roaches were ignoring 'him' until recently. Now, drone recon looks like they're starting to gather their forces around that house. Mission is a snatch and grab, grab the POI and get the hell out of there. Just say the word if you're willing to volunteer."

It was unnecessary to ask. With the uncertain future that this outbreak held for the world, no man in his right mind would decide to just give up now. But, at the same time, it was customary to do so, and polite. The Buck and Doc looked at each other and shook their heads, but none the less the Canadian said, "oui."

Immediately afterwards, Doc said, "I am in, yes."

The two waited for their Russian counterpart to agree as well, but the fact that his answer was not immediate caused an alarm. The two turned to Tachanka and saw him sitting in the corner of the armored vehicle with the visor of his heavy metal mask up. In his hand was a very old pocket watch, a family heirloom. It held no ornate design or was made of pretty metal, but instead was a polished stainless steel with a very smooth face to it. Apparently, it was his great grandfather's watch, standard issue work equipment given to conductors of Russia's early rail network. It was a fine, hard piece of equipment shielding a delicate white face and two gentle hands from the rest of the world.

But they knew that he was not checking to see if it was his bedtime yet.

While his right held the device in his hand, the thumb on his left hand traced around the border of the empty lense, circling the treasure hidden within.

"Angela." He whispered. His two companions were silent. Like he was alone in the world, he looked up from his treasure and viewed the world outside of the sealed armored vehicle, looking at the red sky glowing with the from the strange alien biomass that corrupted the land, at the black stone-like tendrils sprouting from the earth, and the cloudy smoke caused by the destruction of the land drifting into the air.

He closed his watch and stowed it behind his armor, saying, "Da. What are we waiting for? Let us go!"

"Good." Agreed Thermite. "I'll have you rerouted to a care package for resupply and fill you in on the rest of the details when you get there." There was a pause, and then he added, "Oh, and I should probably mention something else. The Pentagon has supplied General McAlister with a 'Haymaker' if need be. Situation is under control at the moment, but not for long if the Roaches keep trying to break containment. Suffice to say, we're about 5 minutes to Midnight… but no pressure out there, okay?"

The three men groaned, and to sum up how they felt, Doc said, "Thermite and his bombs…"