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
--
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."
