“All right,” Georgie says. “Are you OK if I lead the way?”
Hank gestures toward the path. “Be my guest.”
***
Georgie freezes and Hank follows suit. “Did you hear that?” she whispers.
Ahead of them, another crack rings out as someone splits a dead branch apart.
Hank winces, and when he replies he keeps his voice as low as he can. “Who could miss it? They’re making enough noise to wake the dead.”
“OK, I think we can assume these guys are amateurs. They must be the other players.”
Hank rubs his chin. “Hang on. We’re missing something. You’re assuming the enemy patrols are automated, right? You think they’re non-player characters?”
“Sure. They’ve got to be NPC’s. That’s what it said in the briefing, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t think so,” Hank says. “Pull it up and check. I’ll keep watch for a second.”
Georgie’s eyes lose focus as she studies her UI. “Oh my God. You’re right. It doesn’t actually say whether the enemy units are automated or not, so they could be players just like us.” She looks at Hank. “How did you guess?”
Hank exhales. “You don’t want to know. Let’s just say I’ve been fooled that way before.”
“So what do we do?” Georgie asks.
“Well, if they’re checking their target indicators they should’ve seen us, and they probably would’ve reacted by now. Unless they’re completely useless, an enemy patrol would’ve gone quiet and set up an ambush, but these guys are making plenty of noise. I’d say they don’t know we’re here. And the jungle is very dense, so we’ve got plenty of good cover. I reckon we can stick to your plan. We’ll get closer until we can make a visual ID, then we’ll either get the hell out of there, or we’ll stop by and say hello.”
Georgie nods. “Good. You can lead the way if you want.”
“Oh no. This is your party. I’m just along for the ride.”
Georgie lets out a gentle snort. “OK. But Hank, try and keep the clichés down to a dull roar, would you?” She shoots him a cheeky grin then adjusts her grip on her rifle and steps back, slipping away into the shadows between the trees.
Hank follows carefully, controlling every step, checking the ground before transferring his weight. From up ahead, he can hear voices. Male voices. It sounds like they’re bickering. He stops to listen.
“For Christ’s sake, man, stop complaining and put your back into it.”
Then a girl’s voice, strident and angry: “If you’d listened to me we’d have finished this game by now. I’m tired of your bullshit. I’m going to backtrack and find the pa—”
Her tirade ends abruptly, and her voice becomes hoarse and strained. “Get your hands off me!”
Georgie looks back at Hank and he knows exactly what she wants to do. He takes one quick look at his target indicator. The group is only a few yards away. If he approaches from one side and Georgie takes the other, they can rush in on the group and catch them before they have time to react. He meets Georgie’s gaze and nods once, then he gestures with his hand to show her which way to go.
Georgie holds up three fingers, then two, then one. And as she lowers her hand, Hank bursts into action. He powers forward, darting between the trees, his boots thumping into the soft ground. In his peripheral vision, he sees a blur of movement as Georgie hurtles forward.
Ahead, there’s a change in the quality of the light. The trees are spaced farther apart. It looks like the players have got themselves into a clearing. Hank’s lips stretch tight in a grim smile. A clearing is good; it’ll give him the visibility he needs to assess the situation and the space he needs to react. But just as he raises his rifle and takes his last stride toward the clearing, a single shot splits the air. Georgie! She’s beaten him into the clearing by a full second. Hank’s heart lurches in his chest and he almost misses his step. But then Georgie’s voice is loud in his earpiece: “Drop your weapons! Drop them! Now!”
She’s all right! Georgie must’ve fired a warning shot into the air. Hank leaps into the clearing, but he doesn’t stop moving. Apart from Georgie, there are four players in front of him. A young woman stands to the side, her weapon lowered. She looks pale and frightened. Another woman is struggling to get free from a fair-haired guy; she’s fighting hard, but the man has her in a headlock, and he’s big enough to ignore the blows she tries to land. Another man is in a standoff with Georgie. He’s a hulking brute of a man, holding a heavy machine gun as if it’s a child’s toy. And he’s pointing it at Georgie. Georgie has her rifle at her shoulder, and she’s shouting orders at the man. But as Hank hurtles toward him, the big guy leers at Georgie and raises the machine gun.
Hank doesn’t shout out or yell a warning, he just barrels into the big man at full speed, knocking him off his feet. They go down together, and Hank lands on his opponent hard. The man roars and lashes out with the gun’s butt. It connects with Hank’s ribs and he grunts in pain.
“Son of a bitch!” the man roars. But Hank doesn’t waste any time on words. In one smooth motion, he rolls off the man and pushes himself up to his feet, spinning around to face the prone man. He steps back, out of arm’s reach and shoulders his rifle, aiming squarely at the man’s head.
“Do not move,” Hank says, and his voice is cold and hard.
For a heartbeat, a frown furrows the brow of the man on the ground, but then his lips twist in a smug smirk. Hank stares in disbelief, and the man lifts his heavy machine gun, swinging it around to point at Hank’s chest. Without hesitation, Hank’s finger tightens on the trigger. The rifle recoils against his shoulder, a dull crack rings out across the clearing, and the man on the ground looks up at him, his eyes round with fear, his face pale. But he is completely unharmed. The goddamned failsafe! Hank thinks. What the hell do I do now? But he doesn’t need to worry about his opponent. The man exhales loudly and lets his head fall back against the ground, then he stares up into the treetops, muttering under his breath.
Hank lowers his rifle and turns around to check on Georgie, but a burst of cruel laughter makes him look to one side. The young man who was fighting with the woman has finally let her go, and he stands, one hand placed theatrically on his stomach, rocking with laughter. “Goddammit, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he splutters. “That is totally, wonderfully hilarious.” He wipes a tear from his eye. “What a couple of jerks. You were all like, do not move, and Osborne, you moron, you practically peed your pants. Oh, man, just wait until I tell everyone about this.” The young man controls his laughter for long enough to walk toward Hank, a confidence in his swagger that sets Hank’s teeth on edge.
As the guy gets closer, Hank pulls himself up to his full height and turns to face him. “What’s so funny? And what the hell were you doing to that woman anyhow?”
The man shakes his head dismissively and keeps walking. “That was nothing. Just straightening out a kink in the chain of command. You know what it’s like. I can see you’re a player—a guy with some guts. But seriously…” He lets out a condescending chuckle. “What’s so funny? Really? You want me to spell it out for you?”
“All right, I get it,” Hank growls. “The failsafe saved your dumb friend—unfortunately.”
The young man stops laughing. “Oh, you’re a tough guy. I like that. I like your style.” He holds out his hand for a shake. “I’m David Garrick. Nice to meet you, my friend. I think we could kick some ass in this game, am I right?”
Hank doesn’t move a muscle. He looks Garrick in the eye. “No thanks. I’m pretty picky who I play with.”
Garrick lowers his hand and shrugs. “Your loss, my friend.” He looks down at the guy who’s still lying on the ground. “For God’s sake, get up, Osborne. There’s nothing wrong with you, you idiot.”
Osborne grunts and stands up, brushing himself down. He casts a wounded look at Garrick. “He got the drop on me, is all. In a fair fight, I’d have beaten him. No trouble.”
&n
bsp; “Maybe you’re right,” Garrick says. He thumps Osborne on the shoulder. “But you know, what this guy says is true—you are kind of dumb when it comes to tactics.”
Osborne’s face falls, and his forlorn expression is oddly childlike.
This guy might be big, Hank thinks, but he’s only young—maybe eighteen.
“Luckily for you, buddy,” Garrick goes on, “you make up for it with brute strength and bravery. Isn’t that right?”
Osborne smiles, a wide grin softening his craggy features. “I do my bit.” He looks at Hank. “It’s just a game, right?”
Hank nods slowly. I’m not sure about you, he thinks. But there’s no malice in Osborne’s eyes: no trace of arrogance or guile. Unlike Garrick—he’s an asshole if ever I saw one. He registers a movement from behind and turns around to see Georgie and the other two women stalking toward him. “Hey,” he calls out. “Are you all right?”
The woman who fought with Garrick advances toward her erstwhile opponent, and without breaking stride, she lands a punch that connects with Garrick’s cheekbone.
Garrick’s head snaps back, and he raises a hand to rub his cheek. “Well, that’s no way for a lady to behave.”
The woman growls and raises her fist. “Do you want another, asshole? Because that’s what you’ll get, and next time I’ll take you down. So you’d better goddamned listen. You will never lay a finger on me again, do you hear me? If you so much as look at me, or disrespect me in any way, I will put you on your ass. Am I being clear?”
Hank struggles to suppress a smile. The young woman’s face is a picture of pure determination, and there’s a set to her jaw and a fire in her dark eyes that stirs an unfamiliar hunger in the pit of his stomach. She rounds on Hank, and as she turns her head, her dark ringlets bounce and tremble, perfectly framing the strong lines of her oval face. “And you’re no better,” she snaps. “You barge in, all gung-ho, and take on the biggest guy you can see, just for the hell of it, while I’m left to deal with this jerk by myself.”
“Wait a minute,” Georgie says. “That’s not fair. That guy had a machine gun pointed at me, and Hank had to make a split-second decision. He did a pretty good job, and in his shoes, I’d do the same. And anyway, it seems like you were fighting off that guy pretty well by yourself.”
The woman purses her lips and glares at Georgie.
But Georgie isn’t fazed. “That was some punch you landed, girl,” she goes on. “Do you box or something?”
The woman’s expression softens, and when she smiles, the curl of her full lips emphasizes her high cheekbones. “Yeah, I box. I’ve been boxing since I was a little girl.”
“You got lucky, that’s all,” Garrick sneers. “You caught me off my guard.”
The woman shakes her head. “No. You got lucky. If I wanted to, I could’ve knocked you off your feet. Understand?”
Garrick lets out a contemptuous snort, but he doesn’t answer back.
“OK,” Georgie says. “I think it’s about time we got out of here.” She looks at the woman. “I’m Georgie, this is Hank, and I guess we already know those bozos, but how about you?”
“I’m Ellen,” the woman says. “And I couldn’t agree more—I’ve had it with this game. For now, anyway.”
Georgie turns to the young blonde woman, who’s hanging back as much as she can as if hoping not to get noticed. “Are you OK?”
“I’m OK,” the woman replies, then she hesitates. “I’m Alise, by the way. Alise Lindberg.”
“Are you from Europe?” Georgie asks. “I love your accent.”
The suggestion of a smile flits across Alise’s lips. “Yes. I’m from Austria. I was invited to the candidates’ event in Berlin, but we heard this one is better—more chance of getting into Northridge—so we flew over.”
“Cool,” Georgie says. “I haven’t heard that about Northridge. Is it true do you think?”
Alise shrugs. “I hope so. It was a long journey. All the way from Alpbach—do you know it?”
Georgie shakes her head. “No way. I’ve never been outside the States. I’d love to see Europe one day, though. My folks are from Italy originally.”
Alise brightens. “Ah, yes. We visit Italy all the time. I love it there—so vibrant, so full of—”
“This is all very sweet,” Garrick interrupts, “but at the same time, very, very dull. So I’m heading out to the waypoint, and anyone who wants to join me is very welcome to tag along.” He looks at Osborne. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Osborne says, and he walks to Garrick’s side.
“Forget it,” Ellen says. “You two are on your own.”
But Alise pulls herself up to her full height. “I am ready. We’re heading south, yes?”
“Are you kidding me?” Georgie says. “You’re going to go with those guys?”
Alise nods. “Sure. Why not? They seem to know where they’re going.” She throws Garrick a smile. “I trust them.”
Ellen sucks her teeth. “All right, it’s up to you if you want to spend a few hours hacking through the jungle. But I’m sure there’s a path nearby, and I’m heading back until I find it.” She turns to Georgie and Hank. “Are you guys coming with me?”
“Sure,” Hank says. “You’re right—there’s a path. It’s much easier terrain than this. We’ll get to the waypoint in a few minutes.”
“Yeah,” Garrick says. “That’s exactly what I was going to say. We’ll head on over to the path.” He starts walking toward the edge of the clearing, heading for the place where Hank burst in. “It’s this way, right?”
Hank and Georgie share a look. “Yeah, it’s that way,” Georgie says. “Keep walking, you can’t miss it.”
But Garrick is already disappearing among the trees, with Osborne and Alise trailing along behind him. “Hey, Ellen,” Garrick calls back. “Why don’t you and your new friends bring up the rear. You can watch our six.”
Ellen growls under her breath. “I swear, one more word out of his mouth and I’ll kick his ass.”
“Stand in line,” Georgie says. “You can’t have all the fun.” The two of them laugh at the same time, ignoring Hank completely.
Girls! Hank thinks. It’s like they have a secret code or something. He shuffles his feet impatiently. “I don’t like it, but it looks as though we’re stuck with those jerks for now, so we may as well go ahead and finish the game.”
“All right,” Georgie says. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Let’s go,” Ellen says, then she retrieves her rifle from the ground and leads the way across the clearing and into the jungle.
CHAPTER 15
STEWART DOESN’T LOOK DOWN AT EILEEN’S RIFLE. Instead, he maintains eye contact, and when he speaks he keeps his voice calm. “Eileen, lower your weapon. I don’t know what you’re hoping to achieve, but you’re going the wrong way about it.”
Eileen shakes her head. “That’s not how this is going to go, Stewart, so listen carefully. First, you need to tell me what this is really about. I want to know why you came to me with your questions, and don’t waste your breath wrapping up your excuses with twenty dollar words. It’s clear that you’re trying to implicate me in some kind of conspiracy, and I won’t stand for it.”
“It’s not like that at all. You’ve misread the situation completely.” Stewart lowers his own rifle until it points at the floor. “Stand down, Eileen. You know as well as I do that your phase rifle can’t harm me. I’m not some piece of malware that you can just blast away at.”
A cruel smile spreads across Eileen’s lips. “On my battlefield, you’re nothing more than a string of code. This integration is as tight as they get, and when you’re sitting in my chair and wearing my headset, you’re exactly what I want you to be—nothing more, nothing less.”
Stewart swallows hard. “All right, you have the upper hand, I’ll grant you that. But there’s no need to overreact, Eileen. I’ve been given a job to do and I’m carrying out a few inquiries, that’s all.”
“You’ve been watching too many bad movies, Eileen.” Stewart drops his weapon and holds up his hands in surrender. “Is this what you want? Do you want me to say, You win or something like that?”
“I don’t watch movies,” Eileen growls. “I spend every goddamned second of every goddamned day working my ass off in this place, and now you come after me with some bullshit you dreamed up? Do you think I’m going to lie down and let you walk all over me? Do you think I’d let you drag my reputation through the dirt?”
Stewart lowers his hands. “It’s precisely because of your hard work and your precious reputation that I’ve come to you for help. I even asked the board if they’d allow you to work alongside me.”
Eileen blinks rapidly. “You did what?”
Stewart takes a step closer to Eileen. “I’ve been given a problem to solve, and I told them I could only do it with your help.” He forces an earnest expression. “I know you’re the best at what you do, Eileen. So I asked Stradford Brunner if you could be on the team. I stood in front of him and all the senior management team, and I told them that we needed your skill and knowledge if we’re going to solve this problem.”
A puzzled frown wrinkles Eileen’s brow. “And what…what did they say?”
“Ah, there’s the root of the problem.” Stewart sighs and looks away from Eileen, at the same time taking another step closer to her.
“They said no? Why? Do they suspect me or something?”
“No, not at all.” Stewart moves even closer to Eileen. “You see, there’s been a problem and—” He stops talking and lunges toward Eileen, grabbing her rifle. In one swift motion, he wrenches the weapon from her grip with his right hand, while he slams his left hand into Eileen’s sternum. She cries out and staggers back, but she quickly regains her balance. She’s still in control of this battlefield, Stewart thinks. She could do anything to me. He has no choice but to incapacitate her. If he gives her the chance to focus, she could issue any number of devastating commands.
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