by Michael Todd
Volkov came forward to see what the problem was and caught the last of what Kennedy had said.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Yes,” she exclaimed. “We made a deal and now you guys are trying to back out of it.”
“We have our orders,” he muttered. “And we can’t disobey. We cannot accompany you simply for your own personal profit.”
“Well, we accompanied you guys for your profit,” she retorted.
“And we appreciate that,” the master sergeant said in an effort to defuse the situation. “You two have lived up to your reputations, which is rare in places like this. However, we cannot stray from our orders. Once the scientists have collected their samples, we will head back to base.”
“And we won’t join you,” Kennedy advised him coldly. “Although I do expect to be paid in full for our efforts anyway.”
“I will make sure that it happens,” Volkov said and moved away before she could respond.
“There is nothing we can do,” Gregor said, his expression still apologetic. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine.” She shook her head. “It’s not your fault, I know. Although I expect that you’ll be right there to fight for them to pay us the full amount promised.”
“Of course.”
“And you will pick up our tab the next time we drink at the Russian bar,” she added with an affirmative nod.
“I never agreed to that,” the Russian protested.
“You will.” Kennedy patted him on the shoulder before she moved away from him. Sal had returned to bother the scientists.
“I would appreciate it if you guys could forward your whitepapers on this beastie,” he said. “I mean, I have enough to write up something basic, but if you could get me results from your lab testing on the carapace especially, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Jacobs!” she called. “We’re moving out.”
He nodded. “Oops, got to go.” He’d collected a few specimens while the scientists had been busy. The Russians probably wouldn’t appreciate him digging into their first major discovery in the Zoo, but he was out there for himself. The way he saw it, the only people who would be hurt by his actions were those who had bravely sent other people into the Zoo while they themselves sat around in comfy chairs and complained that the people sent out to die didn’t do it fast enough.
He was perfectly all right with fucking those guys over.
Sal grabbed his rifle from where he’d dropped it and dusted it off before he connected it to the power arm that was still coated in bug goo.
“Do you think they bought it?” he asked once they were moving at a good speed away from the Russians.
“Well, Gregor did sell us as greedy mercenaries whose sole objective in this mission was to make a quick buck,” Kennedy replied. “I don’t think they’ll have too much trouble buying it.”
“Gee,” he said with a grin, “thanks.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
She blinked and fought to keep her head from nodding forward. It had to have been at least a day by now, and she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since she’d been picked up in that bar in Casablanca. That had been three or four days ago now, by her estimation, and it began to tell on her. The adrenaline still pumped through her body, but it had dwindled somewhat and she’d caught herself nodding off half a dozen times now. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep. That was almost all she could think about, to the point where she now even negotiated with herself. A significant part of her seemed determined to convince the rest that a couple of winks couldn’t be that bad.
The one thing that kept her awake was the fact that she still held a gun in her hand. A gun that had the safety off and now lay on her lap.
She breathed deeply and stared at the dim light that seeped in through the windows to give herself something to focus on. Over time, she’d realized that no other animals had poked around her little sanctuary for the past couple of hours, which really didn’t help to keep her awake. For a long time, she’d constantly reminded herself of the dangers that faced her should something get in as an inarguable reason why she had to remain awake and alert. Without that terrifying truth to sustain it, her will wavered under the oppressive need to get some rest.
“Is this the comm line?” a man’s voice asked and jerked her from another almost-nap. She glanced around and aimed her weapon vaguely at the still empty cabin of the ATV while she tried to find the source. It took a moment for her to realize that the cabin itself had its own comm line and that someone tried to speak through it.
“Yes, that’s the one,” a woman’s voice said in quick succession. It sounded annoyed.
“Okay,” the man replied. “Well, I don’t know if you’re listening, but if you are, Anja Petrovitch, this is Salinger Jacobs and Madigan Kennedy. We were sent to pick you up and ask that you don’t shoot at your potential employers. That tends to make a black mark on your resume.”
Anja scrambled to the comm device and tried the various buttons, but nothing seemed to work. Then again, she should consider herself lucky that the receiver even worked, all things considered.
“We’re at the ATV and we’ll open the seal now,” the man said. Her gaze snapped instinctively to the part that had been connected to the actual motor of the ATV. The wheel that secured the closed door turned. She blanched when her sleep-deprived mind wondered for a moment if this wasn’t a trick by the Zoo and that the beasts had actually found a way to kill her. Too exhausted to think this through, she suppressed a soft whimper as the wheel made one final turn and clunked loudly as the door opened.
Light washed inside. Not much of it, but more than she’d gotten used to over the past couple of…however long she’d been trapped inside. No monsters waited outside, only two faces hidden behind heavy armor helmets. They were definitely human, though.
The woman offered a hand to help her out and Anja paused only to retrieve the pack that Andrej had left behind. It wasn’t a small door, but the fact that the vehicle had tipped over meant it was somewhat awkward to get through. She managed it finally and stretched once her feet touched the ground once more.
It wasn’t as dark as she’d thought it would be. The windows must have been tinted or something since the spots that she’d thought were stars were actually hints of sunlight that seeped through the tree cover. There weren’t many of them, but they sure beat the hell out of the darkness that she’d lived in.
“So,” the man said cautiously and looked first at her and then at the other woman, “do I offer to take her pack? Is it sexist to offer? Is it more sexist not to offer? I’m so confused right now.”
His companion chuckled. “Shut up, Jacobs. She’s armed, and she has the two of us. She’ll be fine.” She paused and turned her attention to the hacker. “I’m Kennedy. This blabbering dumbass is Jacobs.”
She nodded a greeting. English had been taught as a second language in primary school and she’d advanced it further during her studies in an IT college in Boston. As a result, her grasp of the language was good, if a little rusty after spending the past five or so years in Russia.
“My name is Anja Petrovitch,” she replied and realized that there was a crack her voice. Tears tracked down her cheeks and her two rescuers seemed somewhat disconcerted as if uncertain what to make of that.
“What say you we get moving, hm?” Jacobs said with an encouraging smile. “Do you want me to take your pack?”
“I’ve got it,” Anja replied and tried to smile, but the tears persisted as she gripped the pack tighter like a lifeline.
He nodded and hefted the large rifle in his power arm before he glanced at the other woman.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Kennedy said. Her suit was bulkier, heavier, and looked more powerful than the one the man wore, and Anja wasn’t sure what to make of that. Either way, they both looked like they were able to handle themselves, as had been their reputation. Andrej himself had told her that before she headed out there. She did
n’t feel completely safe, but it was nice to not be alone anymore.
It wasn’t a short walk out and she knew that she slowed their little team down. That wasn’t entirely surprising. She was dressed in a uniform, while they wore suits of armor that had been designed for this kind of terrain. It made sense that they would maintain a faster pace than she could. She had been dropped off somewhere close to the edge of the Zoo, however, and before too long, vast dunes spread ahead in an endless sea of sand as far as the eye could see. It was close to sunset, which made the shock of actually seeing the sun and the unobscured sky a little easier as they moved out from the heavy tree cover.
Sal stepped forward once they reached the edge and peered across the dunes.
“He’s late,” he muttered and shook his head.
“He’s most likely had trouble finding us,” Kennedy replied, shaking her head. “I had a ping from him saying that he caught our signal and was headed our way. We won’t have to wait long.”
She wasn’t wrong. The sun hadn’t even slid behind the horizon before the sound of a heavy diesel engine could be heard. Soon, the vehicle in question came into view and roared quickly and smoothly over the dunes in their direction.
Anja froze and wondered if she should be afraid of this, but Jacobs waved her fears away quickly.
“This is the guy who organized all this,” he explained with a chuckle.
All this, she guessed, meant getting her out of Russia, faking her capture and death, and finally, her rescue from one of the most terrifying places on Earth. She knew she should feel relaxed by that, but all she could come up with was exhausted.
The ATV, easily distinguishable as American by the more delicate Hammerhead design, stopped a few meters away from them. The door was pushed open and Gregor stepped out. He looked exceptionally tired as well.
“I don’t know how you Americans get around in these things,” he complained and sounded more than a little frustrated. “So light and nimble, yes, but do you really expect to need that speed and maneuverability out here? I had to stop for repairs twice on the way to meet you.”
“We have someone working on that already, Gregor,” Sal said. He shook the man’s hand with a smile as Kennedy guided Anja into the vehicle. “We really appreciate you doing this for us.”
“Hey, you saved my life,” the Russian said with a grin. “I figured I owed you at least one.”
“And a bar tab,” Kennedy reminded him as she shut the door.
“I thought that was only an act,” Gregor protested. He slid into his place in the driver’s seat as Sal and Kennedy took the passenger’s seats in the front and back, respectively. “Something to sell the pretense to the others.”
“Gregor, you should know me well enough by now that I never joke about alcohol,” she said with a grin as she shuffled to find a more comfortable position in her suit. “Now drive. We want to be back at the Staging Area before it gets too late.”
He slid their JLTV into gear, but his expression looked thoughtful. Sal knew what the man wanted to ask. Courtney had been there to help him out of the Zoo and get him to a hospital while Sal and Kennedy stayed out there to do their job. Where was she now?
Sal ground his teeth and shoved the subject from his mind.
“Someone back there isn’t buckled in,” Gregor called from the front. Sal checked to make sure although he already knew he’d strapped himself in. He wasn’t sure how the Russian drove, but all things considered, it was better to be safe than sorry.
To his right, though, Anja leaned back in her seat with eyes closed. Her hands gripped the pistol she’d refused to let go of all day and her pack had been shoved down between her legs. He reached over gently to click the safety on her gun before he pulled the three-point belt over her and snapped it securely.
“Good to go,” he called. The woman didn’t even stir.
It wasn’t often that the real world lived up to its Hollywood equivalent, and this was one area that failed in that category. Where Courtney had expected a metal table and metal chairs in a brightly lit room that had a one-way mirror to it, all she got was the one-way mirror. Four worn office chairs, a faux-wood table that had all sorts of coffee stains on it, and a cheap lightbulb were the disappointing reality.
Movies and TV made being a cop look more glamorous than this. Then again, they had to. Nobody would watch an hour of what she now looked at, plus commercials, every week.
She smirked and leaned back in her seat. That sounded like something Sal would say.
“Is there something amusing about your current situation, Miss Monroe?” one of the detectives across from her asked as he leaned forward.
“The fact that you clowns repeatedly try to get me to talk without my lawyer is pretty damn amusing, yeah,” she said with a chuckle. “And it’s Dr. Monroe to you.”
“Right, whatever,” the second detective retorted, his gazed fixed on his notes.
After a few minutes, the door to the small room opened to admit a woman in an expensive pantsuit in her mid-thirties. She wore gold-rimmed glasses, but that didn’t detract from the fact that she rocked the sexy librarian look with her blond hair tied up in a classy yet rigid bun.
Now, that sounded like something Madigan would say. She smirked again.
“Alisson Marie, attorney-at-law,” she said by way of greeting and shook Courtney’s still handcuffed hand before she addressed the two detectives. “Come on, Henry, Frank. You guys tried to grill my client without any legal supervision? Do I have to write you two up for that kind of bullshit again?”
The two detectives—Henry and Frank, apparently—looked like they knew this woman. And from the way they straightened hastily and cleared their throats, they didn’t much like her, even though they exuded a healthy amount of respect.
“You’re my lawyer?” Courtney asked.
“Of course,” Marie said with a practiced smile as she took the seat beside her. “Silverton called and told me he had a client who was in something of a bind and needed the best to help her out. I’m the best, and I’m here.”
“What are you the best at again?” Frank asked with a surly grimace.
“Making sure you two bozos don’t slap a guilty charge on any old person and call it a day,” she snapped. Damn, she sounded like a schoolteacher.
“Why isn’t Silverton here himself?” Courtney asked curiously.
“Isaac is great at residential and financial law, but his comprehension of criminal law is rather basic,” the woman explained, “so he called me in.” She had the look of someone who moved fast and wanted to make sure that everyone kept up with her.
Monroe nodded and focused her attention on the two detectives.
“The first question is if you’re so innocent, how come you need a criminal defense lawyer?” Henry asked and folded his arms.
“Because when in the Zoo, you make sure that you have all the weapons you need,” she responded tartly. “Considering that I’m in a police station and am not delivering coffee and fucking doughnuts, I think the same principle applies.”
“And I would ask that you direct all your questions to me and not my client,” Marie interjected sharply.
“Well, you might want to ask your client about this apparent fixation with the Zoo,” Frank said. He shook his head and refused to meet the lawyer’s eye.
“My client has no need to answer any question regarding any alleged fixations,” she said with a small smile. The two detectives were on the defensive. In all fairness, it was three in the morning and neither looked like they enjoyed being dragged out of their beds to deal with this sort of thing.
“Well, perhaps you would rather ask your client about the five men we found dead on her premises,” Henry said and pushed four open files containing pictures of the men across the table. “Four of whom were found shot in what some might call an execution-style kill.”
“With their own guns,” Courtney added with a smirk.
Marie looked sharply at her, and she had t
he feeling that the woman silently told her there was no need for her to say anything more. She shook her head with a similar sense of defensiveness that she had seen in the two detectives before she leaned back in her seat and folded her arms.
“As fun as all this conjecture is—and believe me, I’ve seen good movies based on less—I’m afraid that conjecture is all it is,” the lawyer said with an apologetic smile. “You boys are fishing, and you know it.”
“We have two officers who are witnesses to your client shooting one of the men from her second-floor window!” Frank protested.
“From what I read of those two witness statements—and forgive me if I missed something, but I had to read the files on my way over here,” Marie said. She retrieved a couple of files from her briefcase and laid them on the table as if to make a point. “From what I read, the man who was seen shot was the one who opened fire first and subsequently invaded my client’s personal property, still shooting, before he was gunned down in self-defense. And, I might add, quite possibly in defense of your two officers as well.”
“The fucker ruined my lawn,” Courtney pointed out belligerently.
“The fucker is dead,” Frank snapped.
“The four men—” Henry began, but Marie cut him off masterfully.
“Wore black tactical equipment and body armor and were armed when they invaded my client’s house,” she said. She leaned forward and fixed the detectives with a hard look to maintain the pressure of her cold tone. “Now, if you want to go in front of a grand jury and explain to them that my client should not have defended herself and her property from four heavily armed invaders, be my guest. Especially since this is based solely on the fact that—according to your, shall we call it less than expert analysis—her defense was conducted in a fashion that might be considered by some, to quote your words, an ‘execution-style killing.’ I don’t like your odds, though. We might be in the state of California, but we’re still in the United States of America, where people tend to get tetchy when the topic is self-defense.”