Jay gave her the thumbs up and held onto the cable, steadying it as Mercy lowered herself over the edge. She descended the cliff slowly, her heart thumping. She stopped four times to catch her breath, using small footholds in the cliff face. A ledge loomed out of the darkness near the bottom, she was able to stand on it and take the strain off her muscles for a minute or so before continuing. The last section was sloped and degenerated into loose scree. She swung the cable back and forth a few times; the signal to the others that she was down.
Mercy ducked behind a nearby rock and gazed out over the lower level. She could make out the slave compound in the distance and the lights inside the active mine shaft on the far side. Kindred were gathering at the slave compound gates, carrying storm lanterns and guns.
They’re going to start the hand over for the new shift—
She checked her watch.
5:40 pm. Twenty minutes to get into position. Let’s hope the Beast makes his appearance on time, if not we’ll have to entice him out—
Mercy looked up. She saw Jay’s outline above. Five minutes later he was beside her, removing his makeshift gloves. Mercy swung the cable, signalling for Rose and Tori to start their descent.
“OK, let’s go,” Mercy said, heading down the last section of scree to the level ground below.
Mercy and Jay turned away from the generator block and climbed the slope leading up to the ramp. Mercy looked right and left at the edge of the ramp.
Eyes at the main gate should be outwards. Eyes inside should be on the slaves… fuck it, just walk across as if you belong. You’ll attract more attention if they see you skulking across—
Mercy rose and strode across to the far side of the ramp. She scrambled down the opposite side into the mine spoil and rubble, disappearing from view. Jay followed her example. They made it across without incident.
They crept over the spoil heaps and neared the occupied area. Mercy indicated a rusting old excavator, twenty yards away. Jay nodded and they made their way to its rear section. The slaves were emerging from the mine entrance. Shouts and the crack of whips filled the air. A whistle went off and the gates to the slave compound opened for the changeover.
Mercy crouched behind the rear tracks of the giant excavator. She smelt rust and oil. She stared at the people gathered in the distance. Two men on horses appeared from the right. Mercy stiffened.
“It’s him… and his sidekick,” Jay hissed.
Mercy rested her M4 on the digger’s track and peered through her scope.
Light’s bad and they’re moving, dammit—
She held her breath and put pressure on the trigger.
Shit, it’s at least a hundred and fifty feet. I’ll only get one chance. This isn’t the kill shot—
Mercy pulled the M4 back and stared at the Beast and his lieutenant. The Beast pointed at a man in the line of slaves then jumped down from his horse. There was an exchange of words then he started punching the man with his bare fists. The prisoner sunk to the ground under a rain of blows and remained unmoving after the Beast walked away.
“Bastard,” Jay hissed under his breath, bringing his own rifle up.
“Keep your powder dry,” Mercy said, placing her hand on Jay’s arm. “We’re too far away. Wait, let’s see what he does—”
They watched as the Beast stalked up and down the line of slaves, whip in hand. He stopped halfway down the line and selected a woman, pulling her out and shoving her down on her knees. He prodded her with the whip handle as if selecting a piece of meat. He shouted something at his lieutenant who laughed. The Beast hoisted the woman onto his shoulders in a fireman’s lift and carried her towards the barracks block behind.
“That’s our cue,” Mercy said, retreating from the digger. “We need to go round the back—”
“Bring it on,” Jay spat the words out.
Chapter 25
Executioner’s Prayer
Mercy and Jay slunk back into the dirt behind the digger. They made their way to the toilet block and crept along the rear wall. Shouts and men’s voices carried from the open ground in front of the barracks. They skirted a gap between the toilet block and the cookhouse. They reached the rear of the barracks seconds later. Mercy pressed her back against the wall.
The Beast’s quarters are beside the barracks—
Mercy closed her eyes and forced herself to remember details of the Beast’s living quarters. In her mind’s eye she saw the two windows in the rear wall, the bedroom and separate office off to one side. She opened her eyes and inspected the back of the building.
“This is it,” she whispered to Jay.
She pointed at the shuttered window and listened. Muffled men’s voices. The sound of a door opening. A woman’s scream. A man’s bark. Harsh laughter.
Mercy looked at Jay. She brought her M4 to bear on the window. “Slide your knife in and lift the latch, get ready with a flash bang once I’m done.”
Jay inserted his knife into the gap. He lifted the latch and flicked open the shutters. The room was lit with candles and lanterns. Two men had their backs to the window. The Beast was standing in the front doorway with the woman across his shoulders. She was hitting him, trying to hold on to the door jamb, he was shouting at her, distracted.
Time slowed. Mercy narrowed her eyes and exhaled. Her finger squeezed the trigger and a blast of deadly fire slammed into the two men. Mercy aimed towards the front door, her rounds hit the floorboards and the Beast’s legs. He fell back onto the porch outside. The woman screamed and smashed into the deck railings.
Damn, he’s still alive—
A man burst out from the side office into the main room, he rolled on the floor, pistol in hand. He shot at Mercy, his rounds gouging chunks of wood from the window frame. Mercy ducked to one side allowing Jay to lob his flash bang into the room. Three seconds later it detonated, searing Mercy’s senses.
“Give me a lift up,” Mercy shouted.
Jay boosted Mercy. She jumped through the open window into the room. The Beast was groaning on the porch, shouts and screams were coming from outside. An explosion detonated in the distance and gunfire erupted in the night.
Mercy pulled out her SIG and shot the stunned Kindred man on the floor. She stepped towards the Beast who lay half-in, half-out of the front door. She raised her pistol and shot him twice in the head and once in the chest. The woman had crawled to the end of the porch.
So long motherfucker. Enjoy hell—
Movement, a shape. Mercy looked up. The Beast’s lieutenant was charging towards her on his horse. Mercy retreated into the room her mind racing, calculating. She flung herself to the floor and rolled to the back of the room. The rider forced his horse up the steps and through the doorway. He wrenched a shotgun from a side holster and blasted the floor where Mercy had been a second before.
Wood splinters flew through the air finding Mercy’s skin and hair. The horse reared up, its eyes bulging, flecks of foam leaving its mouth. The rider held on and brought the shotgun to bear on Mercy’s corner of the room. Mercy stood up and threw herself at the shuttered window, holding her M4 before her. She broke through the window, her body airborne. A second later a shotgun slug blew a hole in the wooden cladding to the side of the window.
Mercy fell to the ground and rolled. She landed on her right elbow, pain exploded in her shoulder. She let out a muffled scream, closed her eyes and rode a wave of pain. A second gunshot blast ripped an even larger hole in the wall below the broken window. The sound of horse’s hooves on floorboards thundered in the Beast’s quarters.
Jay appeared from the shadows and threw a second flash bang through the broken window. Mercy tried to drag herself away but collapsed in a heap, the pain surging in her shoulder. The flash bang exploded, a strangled sound and a heavy crash followed the detonation.
“My gun, Jay… my gun—” Mercy pointed to her M4.
Jay retrieved the carbine, grabbed Mercy by her shirt and dragged her to the cookhouse. Men’s voices came fro
m the far corner of the barracks and the front of the cookhouse. Jay took his only fragmentation grenade and threw it into the gap between the barracks and cookhouse. He dragged Mercy along the rear of the cookhouse to the toilet block. The grenade exploded, shaking the ground.
Good job, Jay. That’ll keep them back—
Gunfire rang out in all directions. Mercy’s face was a rictus of pain.
I know this. Dislocated shoulder. I’ve seen this fixed before—
Mercy gritted her teeth and pulled her injured arm forward and straight out. A wave of pain surged through her and she swore. Bile rose in her throat and she retched onto the ground.
Not good enough, Christ. Do it again before it swells up—
Mercy grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm again. A deep click came from her shoulder, the pain peaked then receded to a harsh throb. She sucked air in through gritted teeth. Jay held out a hand and helped her up.
“We need to make ourselves invisible, like now—” Jay led the way back to the mounds of mine spoil.
The gunfire from the main gate had stopped. Flames were licking the communications tower, smoke was billowing from the generator. They picked their way through the spoil mounds, heading towards the ramp. Jay stopped ten yards from the side of the ramp. He looked at Mercy and pointed to the bottom of the ramp. Two NSA soldiers were pushing a couple of hooded prisoners up the ramp. They were silhouetted against the flames engulfing the generator building. Light spilled down the ramp from the gate. An MRAP tactical vehicle was reversing down the slope, its rear doors open.
“They’ve got Rose and Tori,” Jay said, his voice tight.
“This is not going to happen. I’ll take the guy on the right, you take the one on the left. They’re wearing Kevlar, so go for head or neck shots. On three—” Mercy crept forwards aiming her weapon. “One, two… three—”
Their carbines barked in unison. The two NSA men fell with fatal wounds. Rose and Tori dropped to the ground, their legs scrabbling in the dirt. Mercy rose to her feet and charged towards them. She reached Rose first.
“Rose it’s me, hold still.” Mercy removed Rose’s hood.
Mercy cut the cable ties at Rose’s wrists. Jay did the same for Tori. Mercy looked up the ramp, the MRAP juddered to a halt. She could see three more vehicles at the main gate, their headlights illuminating the ramp ahead.
Take the vehicle—
“On me,” Mercy shouted. She ran up the slope and readied her M4.
The interior of the MRAP was divided in two. Hooded figures occupied the right hand side.
Mercy turned to Jay. “Jump in, take out the driver. I’ll distract him from outside.”
Mercy ran along the side of the armoured vehicle and reached the driver’s window. The glass was protected by bars. She could see movement inside.
Bullet proof—
Mercy tried the handle then banged on the bars with her M4 stock. Gunfire erupted within the MRAP and blood spattered the windows inside.
Nice work Jay—
Bullets struck the dirt at her feet and pinged off the MRAP’s armour.
Jesus—
Mercy ran to the rear of the vehicle and jumped in, locking the doors behind her. Rounds slammed into the vehicle from the top of the ramp. Jay and Tori were manhandling the dead driver out of the front into the back.
“Drive Jay, we’ll have to ram them. I’ll take the roof gun,” Mercy climbed up into the turret behind the driver’s seat and grabbed the M249 Light Machine Gun. Bullets pinged off the MRAP and turret. She winced, keeping her head down. The M249 was loaded. She peered through the armoured glass and returned fire up the ramp.
“Go, go, go—” Mercy yelled at Jay. “Ram the motherfuckers—”
The MRAP lurched forwards then ground to a halt.
What the hell—?
Mercy looked up the ramp. Two NSA soldiers had dragged two hooded prisoners from one of the vehicles and pushed them into the light. They kicked the prisoners to their knees and pulled off their hoods, holding them at gunpoint.
Jay’s voice rose over the MRAP’s engine noise, “That’s Amber and Willow up there—”
Dammit—
A loudhailer crackled to life from up the slope, “Give it up, or your people die—”
Bastards… we can’t negotiate with the NSA—
Mercy bent down and shouted, “Jay, do it, drive, ram the vehicle on the left. We’re all dead if we don’t break out of this—”
Jay banged the dashboard with his fist and swore. The MRAP remained stationary. Mercy cursed and shouted into the vehicle. “Rose, sort it—”
Mercy opened fire on the two NSA men standing behind Amber and Willow. The MRAP lurched forwards, Mercy’s rounds went wide but had the desired effect; the two NSA soldiers threw themselves on the ground behind Amber and Willow.
Jay slammed the accelerator to the floor and the 9.3 Litre, 375 horse power engine responded. The MRAP charged up the ramp. Jay veered away from the sprawling prisoners and drove towards the armoured Humvee on the left. Mercy screamed whilst firing at the roof-mounted gunner in the middle armoured vehicle. Bullets flew into and around Mercy’s turret, sparks flying like demented fireflies. The MRAP slammed into the Humvee with a sickening thud. Mercy was thrown forwards then sideways as the middle NSA vehicle rammed the MRAP. Mercy blinked, processing the collision and the NSA gunner’s new position.
He’s exposed—
The gunner was recovering after the impact and hesitated in bringing his machine gun to bear on the MRAP. Mercy opened up on his unprotected flank, her bullets finding a gap in his armour. His body jerked and slumped from view, back into his vehicle. Two men baled from the rear of the damaged Humvee and ran towards the open gate. Mercy swung the M249 towards them, her finger tightening on the trigger.
A voice shouted behind Mercy, “Eat this, motherfucker—”
Movement. A blur. The sound of something heavy striking the metal floor below.
Oh—
White light. Deafening sound. Darkness.
Chapter 26
Strafe
Pain. Rocking. A jolt.
Mercy opened her eyes. The black hood pressed against her face, her breath hot against its fabric. Her wrists burning, tied above her head. Her chained ankles chafing. Motion, an engine. She sighed.
Bastards got us. That last flash bang. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid?
The truck jolted again. A groan on her right.
“Jay? Rose? Is that you—?” Mercy whispered.
No response.
NSA. They’ll probably take us to DC for interrogation. Not quite the way I had wanted to get there but—
The truck progressed, slowing frequently to negotiate difficulties on the road. The handcuffs bit into Mercy’s wrists as the truck jolted through a seemingly endless string of potholes. She winced at the pain.
I might be able to get a hand free if I can dislocate my thumb—
She twisted her wrists in the handcuffs.
No, dammit, too tight. Bide your time, keep sharp—
Twenty minutes later the truck juddered to a halt. The driver killed the engine. Doors opened on Mercy’s right.
“That’s them,” a male voice.
“Get on with it—”
A muffled choking sound followed.
Jay’s voice, “Bastards, go fuck yourselves—”
“He’s a negative,” a male voice.
More choking and stamping of feet, followed by a groan.
“Another negative—”
Footsteps in front of Mercy. Mercy braced herself. Her hood was removed. She blinked against the torchlight thrust in her face. Two uniformed NSA soldiers stood before her, one brandishing a hand-held device, the other holding a series of mouth swabs. The nearest man leant forwards and squeezed Mercy’s jaw. Pain surged through her head, she struggled against his iron grip. He thrust a swab into her mouth and ran it around the back of her throat making her gag.
What the fuck?
> Mercy’s eyes bulged as she retched.
DNA test—?
He withdrew the swab, handed it to the other man then pulled Mercy’s hood down, plunging her world into darkness.
“Hey. It’s… a match. It’s her, we’ve found her—” the man said.
“Roger that. We’ll call it in. First the other one and now her. Cobalt are gonna cream themselves when they hear this—”
The two men left the truck and slammed the doors. Five minutes later the truck started moving again.
Shit, they’ve got me and Rose. Cobalt Biotech. Jesus, this is fucked up—
Mercy’s mind raced.
We’re getting closer to Bastard HQ with every minute—
She pulled at her handcuffs in frustration. Pain seared her wrists, making her swear.
Thirty minutes later. A radio burst to life somewhere on her right. “Airborne hostiles, incoming, incoming. F-35s. Incoming, take evasive action, repeat… take evasive action—”
Mercy processed the information.
Handheld radio. Guard at the rear door. Incoming. F-35s. Airstrike. It’s the Resistance. Oh—
Mercy’s head hit the panel behind as the truck lurched, then dipped down at a forty five degree angle. The engine roared, the truck pulled forwards then ground to a halt. A series of explosions followed nearby, shrapnel struck the truck from above and behind.
The concussive wave from the blast pounded the truck and those inside. Mercy was thrown around like a rag doll, her arms felt as if they had been wrenched from their sockets. She teetered on the brink of unconsciousness but managed to hold back from the edge. The sound of the F-35s receded into the distance.
Mercy’s head swam, her stomach heaved and she vomited. Another foul smell filled the truck and she knew.
Death and shit go together, someone’s copped it—
She strained against the handcuffs and lifted herself six inches off the seat, enough to bring her face close to her hands. She grabbed onto the hood and pulled it off then collapsed on the bench, sweating. Her eyes adjusted to the thin sliver of light entering the rear from the driver’s cab.
The Survival Chronicles (Book 6): Dark Mercy Page 18