I don’t get much time to wallow in self-pity, as a thunderous explosion rocks the entire plane and sends me toppling out of my seat.
“What the hell was that?!” Lance shouts from the floor. Krystal is sprawled out beside him, cursing up a storm.
The plane shakes again, and this time the lights flicker on and off.
Klaxton thrusts her head out of the cockpit and shouts, “We have company!”
Klaxton no more than says those words when another deafening explosion rattles the plane. This time the hatch door is blown off its hinges, and a frigid gust of wind swoops inside, nearly sucking us all out of the chopper. I manage to grab ahold of my chair. Lance and Krystal grab onto chairs as well. Grenade starts to slide toward the door, but Lance is able to grab ahold of his right ankle before he slips out of reach. Klaxton pulls back on the levers in the cockpit, slowing the chopper down. This causes the suction of the wind to die down dramatically.
“Who the fuck is attacking us?” Lance hollers over the roar of the wind. He crawls over to the open hatch door and looks outside. I crawl over as well, peering over his shoulder. Zooming alongside our chopper is a flying car. And in the driver’s seat is a woman wearing a veil and black burqa, clutching a bazooka.
“Holy shit, is that… is that Veil?” I shout.
“Yeah, I think it is!” Lance says, sounding as stunned as I am. “Come to think of it, she wasn’t with Pitbull and the others when they attacked us. I didn’t even notice until now!”
“What is she doing, avenging her friends’ deaths?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Fuck if I know,” Lance starts to say. “But I do know that I’m about to shoot her in the… oh crap!”
Lance yanks me away from the hatch door as Veil points her bazooka back at the chopper.
“Angela, we’re about to get hit again!” Lance hollers as he throws us both to the floor. “Take us up! Take us down! Just move the damn--”
Lance’s words come too little, too late. Veil fires her bazooka and a projectile of some sort careens into the chopper. The projectile slams against the back wall and detonates, bathing us in intense, blinding white light. I try to close my eyes to shield them from the blast, but it doesn’t work. All I see is white. I’m effectively blinded, as I’m sure are the others.
“At least it didn’t blow up the plane,” Lance grunts in a futile attempt to see things in a ‘glass half full’ kind of way. But the fact remains that we can’t see jackshit. We’re sitting ducks for whatever’s about to happen.
I hear a loud clanking noise, followed by the thumping sound of someone running toward us.
I push myself up off the floor and shout, “Lance, I think Veil just slid her left wing inside the chopper! She’s using it as a plank, just like we did when we invaded Rasputin’s helicopter!”
I no more than finish shouting my warning when something hard slams into the back of my head. I yelp as a sharp pain explodes throughout my upper body. I fall back to my knees, cursing up a storm.
Not knowing what else to do, I spin around blindly and attempt to negotiate with my ‘invisible’ adversary. “Veil, I know you’re upset about what went down back at the village, but Pitbull didn’t give us a choice. He attacked us first and we---”
“Shut your trap, bitch!”
Veil punches me in the throat. I collapse to my knees and gag, struggling to breathe. At least now my vision has started to return. I see a flurry of movement off to my right. I also hear a bunch of yelps and groans, and the unmistakable sound of bare knuckles slamming into human flesh. Veil is like a lean, mean, ass-kicking machine. She is literally beating the shit out of everybody.
After she finishes punching everyone in the face, Veil storms over to Klaxton (who is slouched over on the floor near the cockpit) and pulls her up by her hair.
“At long last I found you,” Veil says, her voice trembling in eager anticipation. “At long last, vengeance will be mine!”
Chills cascade down my spine. That voice… I know that voice! This is the first time I’ve heard Veil speak, so that’s why I’m just now noticing who she sounds like. But… no, that’s impossible. It can’t be true… can it?
I slowly stand up and face Veil, who by now has Klaxton in a headlock, with a dagger pressed against her throat.
“Machete?” I say hesitantly. “Is that… is that you?”
Veil turns and stares at me for a few seconds. Then, in one fluid motion, she tears off her veil with her right hand while still holding her dagger, then quickly places the blade back against Klaxton’s throat. She does it so quickly, in fact, that Klaxton doesn’t have time to take advantage of the brief moment the knife is no longer pressed against her jugular and break away.
I gasp and stagger back when I get a good look at the woman under the veil. It’s a face I thought I’d never see again. The months since Arrow’s death have not been kind to Machete. She looks at least ten years older, with more wrinkles and just a more tired, weary, defeated look plastered across her scowling face. Her long black hair is streaked with gray, which was not the case the last time we saw her. And she still has her trademark eye patch covering her left eye. (Unlike Grenade and Pitbull, Machete never bothered replacing her missing eyeball with a bionic one.) She looks like a woman unhinged… a woman with nothing to lose… a woman who is willing to do anything to avenge the death of her son, even covering herself from head to toe in a burqa and remaining silent for weeks on end, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. And it would seem that the moment she’s been waiting for has finally arrived.
I glance around the plane to see if I’m going to have any help diffusing this highly volatile situation. Krystal is slumped over near the cockpit, a pool of blood seeping out beneath her. She appears to be breathing, but other than that I don’t detect any movement. Machete must have hit her pretty hard. Thankfully the chopper is still flying in a straight line. Thank God for autopilot. Machete’s car continues to fly alongside us as well, the left wing jutting inside our hatch door like a plank from an old-time pirate ship.
I turn to check on Lance, who is sprawled out on his back, blood pouring from his busted mouth. And of course Grenade is still on the ground, hemorrhaging like a gunshot victim who’s also been stabbed 50,000 times. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone lose as much blood as he has. Once again it looks like it’s up to me to ‘save the day’.
I cautiously hold up my hands and say, “Machete, just calm down. I know you’re furious with Klaxton. Hell, I am, too. But don’t do something you’re going to regret.”
“Like what, slitting the bitch’s throat?” Machete presses the knife even deeper into Klaxton’s neck, to the point that a small trickle of blood seeps over the edge of the blade. Klaxton groans but doesn’t move. She knows if she does, her own movements will do Machete’s job for her. Klaxton will basically be severing her own throat.
“Unlike you, I haven’t forgotten what this monster has done,” Machete says, backing toward the hatch door. “Unlike you, I haven’t soiled Arrow’s memory by assisting the demon who facilitated his murder.”
“Machete, you don’t understand, we don’t have a choice! The Chinese are invading! We need Klaxton to---”
“Shut up!” Machete barks. “I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. Just be grateful I’m allowing you and your friends to live. As I recall, I told you at Arrow’s funeral that if I ever saw you again, I would kill you. But I’m reneging on that promise… for now. As long as you don’t interfere in my business.”
“What are you… what are you going to do?” I ask, even though I know the answer. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know where I’m going,” Machete says, her feet on her car’s left wing. “As for what I’m going to do… well, let’s just say your buddy Klaxton probably won’t last until dawn. But I do aim to make her death as torturous as possible.”
Klaxton starts to squirm, but stops when Machete’s blade digs even deeper into her neck.
/> Realizing I need to buy some time (maybe Lance or Krystal will wake up here in a minute), I start asking Machete questions. If I know Machete (and I’m pretty sure I do), her ego would never prevent her from disclosing how she fooled everyone into believing she was a Muslim assassin. Machete thinks rather highly of herself and loves reminding people how intelligent and ruthless she is.
“How did you pull this off?” I ask, effectively stopping Machete in her tracks.
Machete cocks her head to the side and says (as I knew she would), “I suppose that is a tale worth telling. Immediately after Arrow’s funeral, I started a worldwide manhunt for anyone and everyone associated with Klaxton. Much the same why you and Lance did, but I was far more… ruthless… in my methods. I kidnapped and interrogated countless government officials and businessmen who have interacted with Klaxton in the past. A lot of those interrogations were brutal, to say the least. A lot of the people I interrogated didn’t make it. Too many stab wounds… too many gunshots to their arms and legs… too much waterboarding. Sometimes I lose control and go a little too far. I have some slight anger management issues.”
Slight??
Machete glances at Klaxton and says with a shrewd smile, “Sorry I had to kill so many of your friends. It wasn’t personal. Oh wait, yes it was.”
“Go to hell, you cunt,” Klaxton growls.
“You just tacked on an extra twenty minutes to your torturous demise,” Machete cackles. “I’m looking forward to breaking the record for inflicting the most sadistic, drawn-out death.”
Machete turns back to me and continues her tale. “Unfortunately, while I had a lot of fun slowly butchering all of Klaxton’s closest friends and confidants, none of them coughed up her location. I tried locating Blackbird like you guys did, but I couldn’t find him. Kudos to you on that one. But I still retrieved some good intel. A lot of the people I tortured kept saying the same things as I sliced off their fingers and toes. “Oh she’s in the desert! Oh she’s in Antarctica! Oh she’s in the Great African Desert! Oh she’s on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean!” A lot of that was people saying anything they could to get me to stop hurting them. But there was one location I kept hearing a lot… the Amazon. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my shitty-ass life, it’s that if you hear something from enough people, there’s usually something to it. So I figured the Amazon would be a good place to start my hunt for the most wanted woman on Earth.
“As I was figuring out the best way to handle my odyssey to the Amazon, I heard through the proverbial grapevine that Pitbull and a group of marauders were waging a guerilla war against the Chiquito Tribe. I also knew Klaxton had a history with the Chiquito. It was like a lightbulb went off in my head. I went to an armed forces station in Sanctuary 10 (which was where I was living for a few weeks after Arrow’s funeral) dressed in a veil and burqa. I decided to portray myself as a Muslim woman so I could keep my identity a secret. Due to all the publicity surrounding our showdown with Klaxton and Rasputin in Alaska, I’ve become somewhat of a celebrity, much the way you and Lance have. In order for my mission to be a success, I had to go incognito.
“I ended up wowing the military recruiters with my fighting prowess. They were eager to have a Muslim woman join the military, as President LeBeau has apparently been harping on them to diversify their forces for propaganda purposes. When they asked me where I would like to go, I requested the Amazon. They were more than happy to oblige, as most recruits have no desire to come down here. The Chiquito are often described as ‘blood-thirsty savages’ in the media, which scares a lot of military people. Plus nobody in their right mind wants to fight in a hot, sweltering jungle infested with poisonous snakes and spiders. Pitbull needed some new replacements anyway. It was like the stars finally aligned for me. Everything was falling into place. I knew in my soul of souls that the Amazon was where I was going to find Klaxton. I was finally going to be able to avenge my beloved son’s death.”
By now tears are streaming down Machete’s right cheek. She is clearly still grieving the loss of the only person in her life that she cared about. But her face is also awash in a mask of hatred. Machete is experiencing a clusterfuck of emotions, which makes her unpredictable. It’s going to take every ounce of cunning I possess to talk Machete out of killing the one woman on Earth capable of repelling a full-fledged Chinese invasion. How do I always find myself in these messes?
“So a few weeks ago I flew down here and met up with Pitbull and his unruly crew. At first they harassed me about my burqa, but after I kicked Snake-Eye’s ass and put a dagger to his knife, they finally started showing me some respect. And that respect skyrocketed when they saw me in action against the Chiquito. They also realized how lethal I can be when I’m pissed. Needless to say, I didn’t have too many issues with them after that.
“I spent most of my time at the compound sneaking into the dungeon at night after everyone got shit-faced drunk and passed out. I often interrogated the native prisoners on my own. I’d also occasionally go out into the jungle to search for Klaxton, always makings sure I returned by daybreak so as not to arouse any suspicion with Pitbull and his crew. If they knew what I was up to, they would have hindered my operation. At the time none of them were aware Klaxton was hiding under their very noses. As I prefer to work alone, I kept that information to myself. Besides, Pitbull would have wanted to take Klaxton in alive so he could cash in on the bounty. Since I had plans to sadistically slaughter her, that wasn’t going to fly. It was best not to get them involved.”
Machete suddenly grows angry. “But then you wretched brats had to go and fuck everything up. A few days ago we received word that you would be joining us to find, you guessed it, Angela Klaxton. Pitbull and the others acted like they hit the jack-pot. They were already making plans to spend their share of the bounty. Obviously I wasn’t too pleased about any of this. You little bitches nearly derailed my entire mission. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit part of me was elated that you guys had come to the same conclusion as I did, that Klaxton was hiding in the Amazon. It meant I was on the right track.
“As soon as I saw you, Lance, and Krystal emerge from your plane, I was tempted to kill you all right then and there. After all, I did make a promise that I would do just that if our paths ever crossed again. But I kept my emotions in check and decided to strike when there weren’t any witnesses. I followed you and Alex down to the river that first night you arrived with the intention of sneaking up behind you and slitting your throat. I was seconds from doing just that, in fact, when that cyborg freak Grenade burst into the clearing, apparently following my trail. I had no choice but to sneak back to the compound. I’m pretty good at killing people, but even I would have trouble taking on three people at once, especially when one of them is a cyborg with super-human strength.”
“I thought we were being watched that night,” I say.
“Well your intuition was correct,” Machete says coldly, her dagger still pressed against Klaxton’s bleeding neck. “You have no idea how lucky you are that meddlesome cyborg friend of yours arrived when he did. Although…”
Machete’s lips curl into a cruel grin as she eyes Grenade’s bloodied, half-dead body. “… it doesn’t appear he’s going to be around much longer to protect you. What a pity.”
I grit my teeth and clench my fists in a desperate attempt to quell my rising fury.
“So anyway, I was quite aware you guys would eventually try to sneak away and go after Klaxton on your own,” Machete rambles on. “I’ve known you, Lance, and Krystal for years. I know how independent you are, how you like to play fast and loose with the ‘rules’. It’s one of the reasons Arrow and I kept such a close eye on you guys. Sure we swooped in from time to time to steal your bounties, but we also kept you three alive when you got in over your heads, which seemed to happen quite a lot.”
I can’t dispute anything Machete is saying. If it wasn’t for her and Arrow saving our asses on a handful of occasions, my bullet-riddled co
rpse would currently be decomposing six feet under the
ground. Or swimming with the fishes, more likely.
“Of course, hopefully you understand that I wasn’t going to sit by and allow you three to swoop in and take Klaxton away from me,” Machete continues. “So I rigged your plane with timed explosives the night we captured that annoying jungle princess. What was her name? Ocean?”
“River, you bitch,” Lance growls.
I turn to find Lance pushing himself up into a sitting position. I suddenly don’t feel so alone. Maybe together Lance and I can talk Machete out of making the biggest mistake of her life.
“Yes, whatever,” Machete says dismissively, unaware of the blossoming romance Lance and River shared. Or maybe she is aware and just doesn’t give a damn. “After I planted the explosives, I hacked into your plane’s computer and infected the engine with a virus that froze the auto-pilot function. That way you wouldn’t be able to land the plane when, or if, you found the explosives. The bombs were set to start ticking down as soon as the plane lifted into the air, and they were timed to explode near Ramirez’s compound, in the off chance that some of you survived the crash.”
World War Forever (Highway To Armageddon Book 2) Page 47