Nightmare Army
Page 27
Bolan brought his left hand around and down hard on Stengrave’s face, smashing the ampoule of black, viscous liquid into his open mouth. The glass container shattered, along with several of the man’s teeth. The virus fluid sprayed into his throat, with a spatter streaking across his face.
“What is—?” Stengrave stood motionless for a moment, dropping his sword and reaching up to wipe at his face with his hand. Upon seeing the black liquid, his eyes widened with panic. He grabbed for his throat with both hands, hawking loudly and spitting out tooth fragments, blood and black fluid. His eyes dilated as the overdose of artificial adrenaline was absorbed through his tongue and the roof of his mouth and poured into his bloodstream. He pawed frantically at his tongue, his movements growing more frenzied and uncontrolled. Making panicked gobbling noises, he stared at Bolan with fearful eyes as his fingers clamped onto his tongue. With a long, low moan of terror, he began jerking at it, gently at first, but harder and harder. Bolan watched dispassionately as, with a terrified shriek, Kristian Stengrave pulled out his own tongue.
Blood pouring from his mouth, arms and legs trembling uncontrollably, the industrialist swayed, then dropped his bloody tongue as he toppled backward, his heels and hands flailing against the stone floor as the stimulant roared through his arteries, overwhelming his nervous system and making his heart beat wildly, until it entered cardiac arrest. He sprayed out a mouthful of thick blood to scream once more—a long, gurgling wail of agony—then collapsed on the floor to lay there in his bloody armor, unmoving.
Bolan walked back and picked up his submachine gun and his pistol. Holstering the SIG, he held the HK in tingling fingers as he walked over to check on Stengrave, whose sightless eyes now stared at the ceiling. There was no sign of life, save for the occasional spasm from a misfiring muscle, but Bolan reached down to check for a pulse. He found none.
Straightening, he opened the main doors and trudged through the entry foyer and out the main entrance onto the deserted grounds. He breathed in the cool night air, savoring the quiet for a minute before radioing in.
“Striker to Base, mission is complete. Stengrave is dead. Come pick me up, Jack.”
“Roger that, Sarge. I’m on my way,” Grimaldi replied.
“And, Base?” Bolan said.
“Yes, Striker?”
“Get a message to Lieutenant Briggs. Tell her, ‘it’s done.’ She’ll know what that means.”
“Copy that, Striker,” Kurtzman replied. “Come on home.”
“Affirmative,” Bolan said, listening to Dragonslayer coming in for a landing as he watched the first rays of sunlight break the horizon.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460343890
Nightmare Army
Copyright © 2014 by Worldwide Library
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Travis Morgan for his contribution to this work.
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