by Michael Todd
Don’t do anything stupid, Chris. He resisted the urge to look back.
Chapter Four
Dr. Kessler parted ways with him at the door to Hall’s office suite without saying goodbye. As she marched off in the opposite direction, her heels clicking, the young sentry paused until she said, “Come!” as if she commanded a dog. The man snapped to it and hurried behind her. Wallace turned away from them and opened the door.
The lights were still on in the director’s office. The lobby had powered down, but Hall’s secretary, a tired-looking older lady, was still present.
“He’s waiting for you, Sergeant,” she said and clearly looked forward to being done for the day and getting some rest. He knew how she felt. With a nod, he strode past her, the gentle whirring of his cybernetic suit the only sound other than the even gentler hum of the powerful lights in the office.
The door was open. Wallace paused in case the Director was busy—although he also had a seriously bad feeling about this that made him reluctant to proceed.
“Do you intend to simply stand there or obey my summons?” the director said in his deep, smooth, somewhat gravelly voice.
“Yes, sir,” Wallace replied and took the last few steps into the office to stand before Terry Hall’s huge mahogany desk.
The man had been the director for some months now. He was actually a US senator—one of those who oversaw the Department of Defense—and a self-made millionaire with interests in multiple businesses before he started his political career. Wallace had done research and discovered that the man had also played football in college and been in the National Guard when he was younger. He hadn’t seen actual combat but it helped to explain the impression of toughness he gave off. Hall was both tall and wide although he’d lost weight recently, which left all the muscle and less of the fat, and almost always seemed calm, collected, and confident. He was a man accustomed to getting his way.
For the last three weeks, however, his usual demeanor had slipped a little. The director had been irritable, nasty, and stressed ever since Wallace had returned alone from the mission to eliminate the hostile mercenary team. It didn’t make much sense, especially since the Zoo had been less of a threat than usual. Then again, Hall probably had a pile of political and bureaucratic shit to deal with that the troops on base never heard about. And, fortunately, he hadn’t sent anyone on any crazy missions. Of course, the sergeant had spent the first two weeks after his return mostly in the infirmary so he hadn’t been in a position to be sent anywhere.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Wallace opened.
Hall wore a smart gray suit, as he always did, and exuded calm, but he actually looked slightly haggard as though he hadn’t slept much. He fixed a hard gaze on the soldier who stood stiffly before him.
“I would not have sent Dr. Kessler for you if I hadn’t,” he said. “We have come by some important information regarding the Zoo.”
Wallace stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes?” he asked and nodded.
“My intel on the subject has come through again, and we know where Kemp is.”
The sergeant blinked and tried to hide his surprise. Someone else had, after all, told him the same thing. For now, however, he would play it cool.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Hall went on. “Aerial photographs and satellite data hadn’t shown any sign of her in the vicinity of her little capital building recently—that plant-castle thing you besieged some while ago. We assumed she’d gone to ground. Now, at last, we have a better idea of where she’s hiding.”
Wallace didn’t like where this was going, and for some reason, he was confused. He hadn’t heard anything about Kemp’s whereabouts at all. During his last two major missions into the Zoo, he had avoided her so-called capital at all costs and had seen no sign nor any indication of her. He had almost begun to think she was dead, finally consumed as fertilizer by the alien forest that had claimed her as its champion. It also concerned him that the man seemed to deliberately avoid stating the confirmed location.
“What are your plans, then, sir?” he asked.
“I want you,” Hall said and pointed two fingers at the sergeant, “to help lead a very large, very well-equipped force into the Zoo tomorrow and capture her. Alive.” He leaned back in his chair and traced a finger along the broad outline of his jaw. “Finally. At last. At long, long last.”
“Sir,” Wallace said, “with all due respect, Dr. Kessler believes the Zoo may be in the process of dying off. It may not even be necessary to—”
“Shut up,” Hall snapped. He did not raise his voice much, but the sudden sharp and firm tone of his words had their desired effect, nonetheless. The sergeant closed his mouth and straightened his posture even more. “Your job, your position—your duty—is not to question my orders or devote excessive amounts of speculation as to their wisdom. There are things that are above your security clearance, Sergeant. Or should I say, ‘Acting Lieutenant,’ once more? Your duty is to follow orders. And you will.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Wallace replied, his gaze now fixed on a point slightly above and behind Hall’s head. “May I at least inquire as to the size of the force in question and other operational details I’ll need to know in order to ensure the mission’s success?”
“I suppose you may,” the director replied, his attitude smug. “We’ll send an entire company, or very close to it—two full platoons, plus an extra squad or two. It will be the largest force we’ve ever sent into the Zoo. Lieutenant Bokhari will be in command, and you will be his second. I’ve already informed him. You will have all the weaponry you could want or need. Heavy machine guns, grenades, recoilless rifles, and other portable artillery—even a few more plasma flamethrowers. My budget has been increased since that unfortunate incident in which our European politician friends were almost killed and no expense will be spared.” His face took on a look of satisfaction dangerously close to a smile. “This time, we win.”
“I’m glad to hear that, sir,” Wallace responded. “Will we have air support?”
Hall’s near-smile vanished. “We cannot risk the possibility of an air strike killing Kemp before she’s been captured,” he explained, “so there will be none in our main target area. However, I may be able to arrange to have a couple of helicopter pilots drop herbicide bombs on the outer section of the Zoo to clear our path in.”
“That would help, sir.” Despite this promise of heavy weaponry and unlimited expenditure, Wallace felt an odd sinking sensation within him. He accepted that it was time to admit the reason for this to himself. The unease had been with him in some form or another for quite some time now. He didn’t trust the director.
“Good.” Hall steepled his fingers. “You may go, Wallace. We depart at 0900. Make any preparations you think are necessary provided they don’t conflict with the parameters I have already given. You may hand-pick some of your team who don’t already have other assignments. And one more thing…” He pointed once more. “Never question my decisions again.”
Wallace swallowed uncomfortably. “Yes, sir,” he said in a low voice and with that, he left.
The secretary had already packed up for the night when he walked out through the lobby and returned to the hallway, which seemed dim and sleepy after the bright light in Hall’s den.
For a moment, he stood motionless in the hallway and thought things through. He wasn’t sure what to do—about Chris, especially, but also in general. In his experience, the more men who went into the Zoo, the more resistance rose up to meet them. Bigger forces meant more casualties. Then again, the jungle had changed recently. Perhaps everything would go well.
What the hell would they find when they located Kemp, though? The Zoo had used her to help mastermind its own plan to engulf and terraform the whole planet. Somehow, Wallace didn’t think they’d catch her with her proverbial pants down and simply convince her to come along quietly. They’d tried that once and it had ended in disaster.
There was only
one man Wallace could think of who might have the answers, and that man was hiding in his room.
He had a sudden and perhaps crazy idea and turned and walked toward the barracks where most of the enlisted men slept.
“Inspection,” he said to the sentry who guarded the door and quietly entered the large chamber.
The barracks were dark and silent. Everyone was, thankfully, asleep already as only their rhythmic breathing disturbed the silence, and no one stirred. He tried not to make any noise as he proceeded down the lines of cots, although his suit made this difficult. It was too dark to see anything clearly, so he turned on the small flashlight application in the electronic gauntlet that covered his left hand. With its bright but narrow beam, he swept the lockers that stood at the bases of the beds and read the nametags. He focused mostly on the handful of cots which were empty. Finally, he found a locker with the name Parker.
Private Parker was, of course, not present, as he would be languishing in the infirmary. Better yet, he wouldn’t see any action for a while. Wallace opened the man’s locker and removed what he needed. He slipped it down into the slight gap between his armor and body near his waist before he headed back toward the door. It felt awkward because its bulk pushed against him in its narrow hiding place. Still, he could endure it for now. His brief nod drew a similar one from the sentry, and he walked back to his own room with a deliberately casual gait.
A message came in on his headset. “We haven’t found anything, Sergeant,” Lt. Danvers said. “You?”
“No, sir,” he replied. “A couple of men were drunk earlier. I had to break a fight up. Very likely, the damage to the fence was the work of some asshole, maybe a local, who smuggled the booze in to them. It would seem he’s gone by now.”
“Dammit,” Danvers replied. “It doesn’t make us look good. We’ll have to beef up security. That won’t be easy with all the men Hall wants on this mission tomorrow.”
“He just briefed me on that, sir,” said Wallace. “I’ll retire momentarily. Over and out.”
The door to his room was still closed and there was no sign of disturbance. He opened it and stepped inside.
Chris was nowhere to be seen and the window was still shut.
“Chris?” he said softly.
“Oh…ha, good,” a muffled voice replied. A blanket moved aside, and the scientist crawled out from under the cot. “Just on the off chance someone decided to poke their head in here…” He brushed himself off.
“They would have looked under the bed immediately after checking the room.” Wallace sighed. “But a fair attempt.”
“So, what’s up? Am I under arrest yet?” Chris asked.
“No. As a matter of fact, I have good news. From your perspective, anyway. And before that, I have a gift for you.” He retrieved said gift from where he’d hidden it in his suit.
Chris accepted it and unfolded a field uniform.
“Private Parker won’t see much action for a while since I had to break his wrist,” Wallace explained. “The same cannot be said for me, though, or for a good eighty or so other men throughout the base. Hall just gave me the orders.”
The other man looked at him and his eyes widened.
“Tomorrow,” he confirmed, “we’ll go in after Kemp.”
Chapter Five
The time was 0839 hours. Wallace had been up since 0530 to oversee the preparations. He hadn’t exactly been able to hand-pick soldiers for the mission as his top two candidates were unavailable due to other assignments. In the end, he’d been forced to simply recommend a few new arrivals who struck him as reasonably capable. And, at least, he’d managed to have Glassner assigned as one of their medics. The man had never let him down.
He also made sure his suit was in good working order, courtesy of another visit to Jimmy James, their young mechanic. She had gone into the Zoo with the troops on two occasions, but Hall had forbidden her to tag along this time. Apparently, she was needed to help with maintenance on some of the aircraft and the base’s fleet of trucks. Nevertheless, she insisted on at least seeing everyone off before their departure.
“Be careful,” Jimmy said and gave Wallace a hug. She was quite small, especially compared to him, and he had to bend way over at the waist for the embrace to work properly. “It’s good that so many of you guys are going in this time. And the Zoo doesn’t seem as dangerous lately. I have a good feeling about the mission. I think this might be the time when we finally kick its ass once and for all. Still, don’t do anything stupid and keep an eye on your suit. I looked it over thoroughly, though, and I think you’ll be fine.” She smiled.
He returned the smile. “Thanks, Jimmy. Your work on my suit has already been extremely helpful. We all appreciate what you do.” She had become almost like everyone’s little sister since she’d arrived. And being a fellow redhead, someone might even have reasonably mistaken her for Wallace’s actual sister. In fact, he only had one sibling, a brother.
“Come back to me so I can fix whatever other problems you might have after the mission,” she said. She didn’t seem daunted in the slightest by the work and was something of a prodigy. “I only wish they’d finally let me make more of the Silver Stallions so you guys could at least take a vehicle.”
“That might be helpful in some regards,” Wallace mused. “However, keeping everyone on foot might actually be the best bet in this case.”
As he said this, a pair of helicopters rose into the sky and headed out toward the Zoo. Hall had made good on his offer to have them drop a few herbicide bombs to clear the road. The bombs in question wouldn’t be enough to cause extensive damage to the jungle, but they’d help thin the vegetation and perhaps even kill a few nasty creatures who might be in the vicinity. The weed-killer within them wasn’t as powerful as the superlative stuff that Chris had developed from the Zoo’s forbidden fruit, unfortunately.
“Okay, I have to assemble with the troops,” Wallace said to Jimmy. “Goodbye.”
“Good luck,” she said. He turned and left her near the bay.
Dozens of soldiers checked their gear and arranged themselves in formation. Wallace didn’t recognize the majority of them—new guys, mostly. Ever since he had been ordered to escort the three foreign diplomats into and out of the Zoo, more personnel had come in. This was partially the result of other countries wanting a piece of the pie. They’d helped to fund the project and didn’t like the US to have a near-monopoly on the biggest discovery of the century.
It was also partly the result of Hall having been given a budget increase. The diplomats had barely escaped with their lives, and then only thanks to Wallace and the soldiers under his command. The director had pushed the Zoo up on the list of the US government’s priorities after that, what with the potential for serious political embarrassment, and officialdom now wrote him bigger checks to improve security. The British man had even been some kind of saboteur, planted there by—who? The same people who had hired the mercenaries? Another government that wanted more access, like the Chinese or the Russians?
On that same mission, the German Ambassador, Aade Graf, had said something to him and he recalled it now. The mission was a setup, she’d pointed out. In essence, she’d advised him to look for the person who would benefit most from chaos by being able to assert their own brand of order.
He frowned. Thoughts like those were things he would push aside, for now. There were tasks at hand to focus on. He walked amongst the troops, greeted them briefly—and ignored the way the newbies stared at his exoskeleton—and inspected their equipment with a keen eye.
As he finished and waited for Lieutenant Bokhari to arrive and assume command, he noticed two other soldiers coming toward him. One was on the taller side, pale and lanky. The other was shorter and darker. He walked out to meet them.
“The Army’s standards must really be getting lax,” said Corporal Gunnar Åkerlund, “when they commit a whole—what is this, a division?—to a mission and don’t even assign the best damn shooter at the ba
se. Me, obviously, not you.” He sighed. “Me and Peppy get to do gardening duty in some narrow-ass strip of land between the Zoo and Wall One so all the visiting foreign dignitaries don’t end up with alien grass-clippings stuck in the tread of their shoes.”
“The poor, poor seedlings,” Peppy chimed in, her voice a monotone which seemed to droop in inflection at the end of every phrase. “Cast off and unwanted by the bulk of the Zoo, they now struggle to survive in the thin strip of lifeless sand beyond its borders. Now, the universe has condemned them to be sprayed with the bare minimum amount of weed-killer necessary to end their pitiful existence—by me—or blasted twenty or thirty times each with a shotgun by Gunnar.”
“Peppy could simply talk to them,” the corporal suggested. “I read somewhere that plants respond to human speech. Even if they can’t comprehend the words, I’m sure the annoying, depressing sound of her voice would convince them to go on a hunger strike and die.”
“I didn’t know,” she replied smartly, “that Gunnar actually read, aside from maybe firearms magazines which he uses in place of pornography.”
“Yeah, nice,” said Wallace. “While you’re on weed-killing duty, keep an ear out for any signs of distress you might hear from us.” Gunnar and Peppy, for all their admittedly entertaining lack of professional decorum, were both good soldiers and among those with the most field experience in the Zoo. They were, of course, his top two choices, which had been denied. “Not that I expect things to be too rough, but you never know.”
“Aye,” Gunnar responded.
Chris walked up. He wore the uniform Wallace had brought him and had found himself a hat and gear. He was several inches shorter and at least thirty pounds lighter than Private Parker, however, so the uniform was baggy and he’d had to improvise to make it fit him efficiently. Wallace felt more than a little nervous at that moment. He’d have to hope that Lt. Bokhari or one of the other sergeants didn’t notice this and decide to focus too closely on the offending soldier.