Diego: Part I

On the rooftop, Diego watched Jeannie and Major Orson leave through a pair of binoculars. He observed them for several minutes, long after they disappeared, to ensure no one followed before lowering the apparatus.

A set of footsteps approaching alerted him to a new presence, and he slowly turned to greet John, who'd stopped within arms' length and stuffed his hands into his fleece coat pockets.

"Is it done?" Mr. Whittaker asked quietly — his face an impassive mask.

Hugging himself for warmth, Diego nodded. "Yes. No one on Benson's team seems aware she's gone from her quarters."

"Good." John didn't elaborate, nor did he give any hint of his thoughts or emotions. He simply stood in place, silent as the grave and still as a statue except for the occasional shiver in the early winter breeze.

After spending several days, if not weeks, with the man, Diego still couldn't interpret his mood. John Whittaker was an enigma, and it was easy to understand why Taylor struggled to connect with him. The two were so different; Taylor tended to openly express himself while his father kept everything internalized. The only thing Diego could discern with certainty was that John did everything in his power to protect his family. He wasn't a role model by any means, but anyone who paid attention could see the lengths he was willing to travel for his wife and son. The only thing Diego had ever disagreed with was his methods, yet he understood. He himself missed his mother every day. To lose the only opportunity to cure Allison must have been a devastating blow.

"So what's the plan now?" he asked, deciding not to broach an unwelcome topic. "Jeannie is gone, but that doesn't address our more immediate problem."

Approaching the ledge where Diego stood, John stared ahead into the night. "I need to speak to General Reyes. It's not enough to arrest Benson in a world where law no longer exists. Much as I abhor capital punishment, we have no other option. He's behind the virus escaping containment, and he's been performing illegal experiments. If we don't stop him now, he'll continue while eliminating all who pose a threat to his work."

"Like Jayson," Diego whispered. Bile burned his throat. He'd never liked Recklaw — the man was a loose cannon with a horrible temper — but he'd been right this whole time. Benson had been targeting the survivors, and though no one had been able to verify how several people had disappeared, the common denominator was that they'd been men in decent physical condition. The variables ranged from tension with Benson to strangers admitted for quarantine in very small groups. And in some cases, men attracted to the women Benson leered at went missing too.

John bobbed his head, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead. "I have enough proof to expose him, but I'm not sure who he's working with, and he's not the type to concede."

"What exactly is going on?" Diego pressed, turning his full attention to John and pinning him with an interrogative stare he used on suspects. "You're all so busy running around with your heads up your butts, but no one ever gives a straight answer."

A small chuckle, accompanied by a puff of frigid air left John's lips. "I suppose we deserve that." The humor left his face as he sighed. "Taylor will have questions about the information I recovered on the flash drive he stole."

Diego lifted his eyebrows in amusement, but kept his mouth shut. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. If he knew anything about his boyfriend, it was that Taylor possessed endless curiosity. "Does he know what was on it?"

Another laugh. "No. I caught him in the act of trying to decrypt it on my computer. I hate to say it, but I'm glad he broke his arm if that meant slowing his progress."

Tempted to share John's amusement, Diego bit his lip and shook his head. He'd wondered why Taylor had felt the sudden urge to snoop through his dad's room; he wasn't a good liar.

Removing a hand from his pocket, John ran it through his hair. "Look, the knowledge would destroy my son. Jayson's death was a mercy."

"Why?" What was so much worse than death besides an incurable zombie virus?

"Benson didn't just unleash the virus," John said quietly. "He wanted to weaponize it while draining Jeannie for a way to stabilize the disease. He never intended to find a cure. At least, not in the traditional sense."

Diego frowned, frustrated he was still no closer to answers than when he arrived with dozens of questions. "John, please don't patronize me. I'm well aware this wasn't a natural virus, even for one studied in a top-secret lab."

Facing heavenward, the older man released a heavy breath. "He was creating hybrid soldiers — people he could control while engineering their genetic makeup. He wanted Jayson in particular to test his hypothesis that the rebellious nature could be overridden." Rubbing his toe against the back of his opposite shoe, John added, "The research shows the effects on the brain and suggests a propensity for compliance."

Holy shit.

Diego recalled his brief encounter in the gas station with Jayson. The soldier had been lethal — a trained warrior with an eye only for his mission. He'd remained calm throughout the task, shooting each Soapie with clean efficiency. The idea of bioengineering him into a mindless monster with no moral parameters sent a shudder down Diego's spine.

Another realization struck him, one from a recent conversation that suddenly shifted all the pieces into place. His heart dropped into his butt as he raked both hands through his unmanageable hair. "Yo... all those people who disappeared with no explanation." General Reyes had mentioned something about random men and women going missing for no apparent reason. No one seemed to know what had happened. "Do you think they're all in that lab?"

John's mouth parted as the idea settled behind his eyes. He swayed, and Diego reached to catch him in case the other man fainted. "Oh, God," he whispered. "I didn't think of that. You might be right."

John slowly squatted, resting his elbows on his knees and dipping his head while sucking in several deep breaths. In the slight glow of the overhead lights, John's face paled until it was whiter than a sheet. "This whole time..."

Diego closed his eyes and took a moment to center himself. This was worse than a lab grown experiment or worldwide endemic. Intent to harm had been present, all brought to fruition by irresponsible people in power.

This wasn't the time to panic though. The people needed to be warned, and the experiments stopped. Wetting his lips and opening his eyes, Diego asked, "Was anything else on that drive? Anything to indicate other involved parties?"

John lifted his head and shrugged. "I don't know. I saw Benson's work, but didn't check the other files. I needed to get out of our quarters before Taylor saw too much. There was a lot on that drive."

Lovely. Diego couldn't recall, but Taylor might have mentioned something in passing about other facilities being in contact with this location. Regardless of whether they were involved, he held reasonable belief they might be in on it. The conspiracy was too large to pull off alone.

Stuffing the binoculars in his coat pocket, Diego assumed a dominant posture, even if it only made him look more impressive and in charge than he actually was. Either way, they couldn't remain on the roof and talk this over like people sharing coffee. "John, we need to act quickly. Even with Jayson gone, Benson is going to continue whatever he's doing." Ticking items off one at a time to help himself focus, Diego verbalized a checklist as he formulated a plan. "First, we need to find out what else is on that drive. Benson needs to be apprehended, but we should also consider anyone who might be in bed with him. Then we have to eliminate anything that could enable the spread of the virus."

John's head snapped up as his eyes widened in both grief and panic. "No."

Diego's lip curled in disgust before he could stop himself. "No? The fuck, dude? Are you in on this too?"

Climbing unsteadily to his feet, John shook his head in a jerky motion. "It's not that," he rasped. "My wife, she's..." He sighed in a deep breath and held it before breathing the next word. "She's Patient Zero. Allison is the reason this facility exists; I wanted to find a cure."

Diego pinched the bridge of his nose and repressed the urge to punch this idiot. "Jesus, when did you plan on telling me?" This was the sort of information he needed to know if he was expected to help people. "Is she the reason the virus got out?"

John shook his head. "Not directly. I funded this project to find a cure, not weaponize the disease."

That didn't answer his first question, but it didn't matter much when there were far more important things to worry about, such as preserving what little remained of humanity.

Diego never would have attempted what he was about to do in his old life — cops were universally hated enough, but he'd had enough of everyone's shenanigans. Grabbing John's fleece coat by the collar, he twisted on the fabric until it pinched the skin at the older man's throat and yanked him forward. John's eyes widened as his hands flew to his neck, but Diego kept his grip and stood so close, their noses almost touched. "Whittaker, so help me, I will throw you off this building if you don't stop dancing around my questions. How did this virus escape containment? What is your role in this conspiracy? And most importantly, what are you going to do to fix the damage?"

"I didn't release the virus," John wheezed, struggling to loosen Diego's grip on his coat. "I told you everything I knew when I thought you were Benson's target. I didn't know he was creating super soldiers."

Wouldn't Super Soapies be more accurate? It was something Taylor would joke about. Half Soapie/Half Soldier was the perfect recipe for fear and disaster. Whoever controlled them basically had enough power to take over the world.

Shoving John away, Diego paced. Was it too late to stop the madman? There weren't many people left to fight against the new regime, and by the time they discovered the truth, Benson would have gained a permanent foothold on his influence.

With a sigh, Diego raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. "I must be a fool," he muttered, unable to produce a better solution, "but Taylor and Monica can't stay with Benson looming over them." I can't stay. But he didn't say that part; it would imply he was thinking only of himself when he wanted nothing more than to protect the man who'd claimed his heart in a few short weeks. Though he wanted to go with them, he was prepared to stay behind if it meant keeping them safe.

John nodded and moved toward the stairs leading to the facility below. "Agreed. I'm hesitant to send you with Doctor Adams. There's no doubt Daniel will assure her safety, but there is strength in numbers. That said, I don't want to place all my eggs in one basket either. No one followed her, but that's not to say someone won't notice you, Taylor, and Monica leaving."

"Does anyone know about the place you're sending Jeannie to?" In the rush to carry out his mission to secure a working vehicle with supplies, Diego had forgotten to ask.

Guiding Diego into the building and toward an elevator, John shook his head. "No. Benson wouldn't have had access to that information before the government fell, and I purposely kept that file off the books in case it fell in the wrong hands. It's nothing like this place, but it's equipped with a small lab for additional research."

Another lab? Sheesh, how many of these top secret places existed? Diego scowled. "And no one is there, waiting to turn the rest of us into Soapies?"

John's brow lifted at the insinuated accusation, and he shrugged. "The bunker is relatively new, but the CIA decided it wasn't needed before abandoning it. There hasn't been anyone there in the months leading to the outbreak. I checked on the status regularly through an encrypted channel."

Of course, he did. Men like John had to know everything and cling to control like flies on shit. However, Diego couldn't deny this was potentially the Holy Grail of shelters while the rest of the squad licked their wounds and regrouped. Monica, Taylor, and Jeannie would all be relatively safe, and with enough time, Monica and Jeannie might have more luck developing a cure outside of the public eye.

Plan half-formed in his mind, Diego marched deeper through the halls, forcing John to lengthen his strides to keep up. "There are a few unknowns and holes in this plan, like whether anyone else took up shelter there, but I do think it's our best option," he said, thinking as he made his way toward the promenade, which branched into paths for all the different wings. "Do you have another map to get us there?"

John paused, forcing Diego to turn around and face him. Despair sagged in John's features, adding several years to his salted beard and ever-creasing lines. "I do," he said, surprising Diego. The man made it sound like he'd shredded the only copy.

"Then why do you look like someone shot your dog?" Diego asked, crossing his arms and frowning.

Blinking, John murmured, "I don't want to leave things bad with Taylor. No matter what I've done, I need his forgiveness. We've only just reunited, and now we may never see each other again."

Anxiety spiked Diego's heart rate. What was John saying? "You're not coming with us?"

Determined resolve sparked behind John's eyes while his mouth formed a grim line. "No. Though I didn't sanction Benson's actions, I am still responsible for allowing these things to pass under my nose. I ordered the experiments on Doctor Adams, and there must be restitution. If humanity is to survive, someone needs to stay behind and hold Benson accountable. Someone needs to expose him."

Ay, Dios mío. Moments like this made everything real. "Will you say goodbye?" Taylor would be crushed to lose anyone else. They might not have the best relationship, but from the outside, Diego had noticed an attempt on both sides to meet the other halfway.

A shudder rocked John's features as he swallowed. "No. The less he knows, the better. Best he thinks I'll catch up before you head out."

Diego forced his groan back into his throat. Taylor wasn't an idiot. He also didn't like being complicit in hurting his boyfriend, no matter the reason. But what other alternatives were there? The longer they stayed, the more they risked falling into Benson's plans. "I hate this."

"Me too," John agreed. "Let's go to our quarters tonight for one more dinner. We'll invite Monica and her ward, and we can go over the preparations. I want you all gone first thing though, so don't expect to sleep in."

What cop enjoyed sleep? That was as bad as assuming they all liked donuts and couldn't run more than a block down the street. Nope, police were overworked, underpaid, and addicted to coffee. Insomnia remained a constant companion for people in his field. If anything, Diego imagined he'd sleep an hour or two at a time before going back on high alert. He would sleep when he and his friends arrived to safety, or when he died — whichever came first.

Hiiiii and a happy New Year!

We've got a few chapters left before we get into Book Three. Are y'all ready?

I've been putting this chapter off because I had three different scenarios I was considering. Everything falls on what happens from here, and I struggled to make up my mind.

Who gets hurt? Who moves on? What about everyone else? It's all so exhausting because no matter what I do, I'm worried it's not right. But I did finally make a decision, so the chips will fall where they may. I do have the ending in mind though, so I can put this behind and start fresh with the final story, Zombie Soap 3: Revolution.

So let's chat:

Who do you think will make it to the end?

Who do you think will fall?

What are things you'd like to see in Book 3?

Thank you all so much for reading and staying with me to the end! 💕