Daniels snorted with appreciation at her play-on-limbs.
“If anything, her instincts and reactions, both physical and mental, seem sharper.”
Daniels pumped his fist and gave a low whistle. “Whoa,” he said. “You mean we wound up with Spider Woman?”
Rahal shook her head at the sergeant. “Not quite, but it will do until we can get to that more extensive lab the general keeps alluding to.”
“Retired general,” Lancaster added, nodding with promise. “And not dead yet.”
Rahal returned her attention to Nichols and Key. “But I’d ask you—ask you both—to be aware of not only what’s happening around you, but also inside you. Be very conscious of anything your body is trying to tell you.”
Key’s eyebrows were getting a workout. He motioned toward Nichols, and then himself, with a shrug.
“You were connected to her via the transfusion,” Rahal reminded him. “You were the first and last to give her blood once we emptied her own virulent supply. Something may have happened during the transference.”
The look on her face gave Key the distinct impression that not only was there no “if” involved, but, in fact, Rahal may have seen to it. But before he could question her further, Lancaster waved them all over to a table in the engineering section. There, Gonzales and Faisal were already poring over detailed charts.
“We’re using that thing Speedy made to snatch Private Nichols in the first place,” Lancaster said.
When Daniels looked dubious, the mechanic reassured him. “Pieced together from the best,” he explained, pointing at the thing Faisal had landed just outside. “AugustaWestland body and engine, Boeing tech, Leonardo-Finmeccanica modifications. I call her FB Law.”
“What does the FB stand for?” Daniels asked.
“’Fuck Bastards,’” Gonzales answered.
“How did I miss that?”
“Right, I mean, what else? By the way, her external video cameras can sweep three hundred and sixty degrees with 4K density and even infrared.”
As he spoke, Key collected two M110 SASS rifles, then handed one to the sergeant and one to the private.
“Okay.” Daniels hefted the weapon in one paw. “So we can spot ’em and swat ’em one at a time, but what if there’s a horde?”
Faisal took that moment to walk past, holding an M32 grenade launcher in one hand, and an M203 grenade launcher attached to an M16 assault rifle in the other. As he passed, he tossed one of the grenade canisters to Lancaster. The retired general caught it with ease.
“Modified to use the most powerful, far-reaching, and fast-spreading incapacitating agents imaginable,” he said, and, after seeing Daniels’s disdainful reaction, he added, “Or, if the swarm has too many stingers, the most powerful, far-reaching, and fast-spreading toxin.”
“To only be used in case we need to commit suicide,” Key added pointedly. “Don’t want the mission fucked on a whim of the wind.”
Daniels handed out the latest gas masks, which looked like a lightweight, silicon-padded cross between a jet pilot and scuba diver’s head covering.
“Okay.” Key sighed. “Shut up, gear up, mount up. Let’s go.”
They all did as he bid, except, of course, for Rahal. As they left, she approached. Not caring if anyone noticed or not, she put her right hand gently on his chest.
“Come back,” she whispered.
Key was trying to formulate a reply that wasn’t a stupid cliché, a hopeful lie, or impossible clairvoyance. Ultimately he settled for a smile, shrugged, and simply said the only truth he could come up with. “I’ll see you. Soon.”
* * * *
It was a slow, intense, hour.
Gonzales came in as low as he could, but high enough not to speed directly into any errant portable ground-to-air missile. Although he had made as many modifications as he could to protect and diminish the noise of the rotors, they still sounded like a bee swarm sizzling overhead.
Daniels and Nichols were strapped in elastic harnesses in the opposite doors, ready to use the M110s on Key’s word from the video feeds at the navigator station. Gonzales and Faisal kept a sharp eye out from the pilot and copilot seats.
The difference between the Marines and Cerberus was evident in what they all wore. In addition to their toxin masks and protective helmets, Cerberus wore a tan base layer from ankle to chin, and wrist to wrist, that was the latest in air-wicking technology. Over that went a desert-camouflaged coverall that zipped and belted for an amazing fit. Key had never felt anything like it. The outfits even had their own matching, jointed, second-skin gloves, and waterproof, insulated, laceless boots.
“Cali-brake,” Lancaster had informed them. “Most comfortable, effective bullet-proofing ever invented. Cerberus bought the proprietary rights. Trademarked, registered, copyrighted. Amazing what you can get if you’re not trying to protect a corporate industry from competition…or extinction.”
Even so, they were still lucky. The ground they rapidly covered was devoid of resistance. Key had not wanted to share his suspicions, lest he dull his team’s vigilance, but he was hoping this would happen. They were making a beeline up the very same ground the arachnosaurs had swept down. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that the latter occurrence probably ensured that this particular landscape would be devoid of even insurgent intruders for quite some time. Logan’s supposed factual chant of “radicals, fanatics, and terrorists, oh my” be damned.
“Border of Shabhut in three minutes,” Gonzales said via comm-link. Faisal had already gotten up, holding a video camera-equipped drone in his hands.
“Let it fly,” Key said, keeping his eyes on the surveillance screens. Despite the power of the copter’s cameras, Key wanted an even closer look.
It looked the way Dale Hood had described it to Lancaster. Abandoned, deserted, slightly shiny, clean, devoid of even Awar’s guards. They had mopped up the marine corpses Key, Daniels, and Nichols had left behind, and whatever Plasticine treatment Awar had coated the structures with was still in effect.
Gonzales didn’t have to ask where to land. After as thorough an examination as all of them could make by camera or eye, he brought FB Law down right next to the bunker-like burrow the American arms dealer had entered. The wheels hadn’t even completely settled before Key was up, Daniels right behind him. The sergeant had switched out the M110 for his M249 SAW, while Key had a Beretta M9 at his hip and a M4 carbine in his hands.
He shared a meaningful look with Nichols before handing the private the carbine. The three stepped out, taking a second look at the village which had changed their lives. It was, thankfully, desolate, but full of bad memories. None of them showed on any of the ex-marines’ faces, however.
“Test the helmet-cams,” Key instructed. The trio pressed a small button at their temples, then waited for the pilot to give them the okay.
“Reading, hearing, and seeing what you are loud and clear,” Gonzales told them.
Key turned back and took a bulbous pack Faisal handed him. “You know the deal,” he told the pilots. “No heroic bullshit. Anything happens, anything, and you take the matching pack, prime it, toss it in, and take off. Got it?”
“Got it,” Gonzales said, then took a position opposite Faisal to better secure their position.
Key looked from Daniels to Nichols for a second, then headed toward the bunker entrance. The sergeant thought he might have caught an oh-shit expression shooting across Key’s face, but couldn’t be sure.
The three clicked on their helmet headlights, and stepped into the entry hall. They heard Nichols hiss, but she didn’t retreat. The shellacked cavern was the same one Dale Hood had entered, only now the guards he saw at attention were littering the floors with their vivisected, spider-shit-pumped, corpses. Thankfully the trio’s gas masks handled the smell, but the sight was bad enough.
Key stiffened, aler
ting Daniels. “What?” the sergeant asked, then snapped his tongue. “Sir.”
Key ignored the jape. “No flies. There should be flies.”
“That means you were right,” Rahal said in their ears. “There’s probably a queen. The flies are what she’s feeding on. But she herself would not be collecting them.”
“Queen’s consorts,” Lancaster said. “How many, doctor?”
“At least two,” said Rahal. “Maybe more, if she felt the need to have an attendant to cannibalize if the flies ran out.”
Daniels tightened his grip on his M249. “Now I bet you’re glad I brought grenades.”
“I’d cite you for disrespect, if I weren’t so glad,” Key said as he crouched slightly. “Speedy, send in the drone.” Within seconds, the small, square, four-rotored thing came swooping into the cavern. “Send it ahead.”
The team watched the video images as the drone soared through the cavern halls, checking every wall and ceiling. The roaming white light indicated that they were all clear. Finally it thoroughly searched the Holy Gate chamber. It too, was clear.
“All right then, go,” Key ordered, already leading the way, not stopping or turning until he entered the room with the modified airlock on the floor.
“Careful,” Rahal said. “Consorts would likely be stationed in, around, or just inside the entry.”
“Got it,” Key said, turning toward Daniels. “You ready?”
Daniels nodded, bringing his SAW to bear. “I’m ready.”
Nichols was in the process of joining him when Key stopped her. “You’re the most important person in this forward unit,” he told her. “You stay safe until it’s time.”
She looked about to complain, but then nodded submissively and stepped back behind Daniels. She didn’t lower her M4, however.
Key moved quickly to the other side of the air lock, and gripped the round handle-wheel. He looked back toward Daniels, who nodded again.
“Both ahead and behind their mouths,” Rahal said, then Key yanked up and back.
The arachnosaur came leaping from the air lock on astonishingly springy legs. For a frozen second the enemy was pinioned in three intersecting helmet lights, and then it raced in its hideous scuttle and took off again, directly at Daniels.
If the sergeant was fazed he didn’t show it. Coolly, and with a short burst, he practically drew a dotted line around its insectoid face, that essentially punched it out with bullets. The consort dropped from the sky and slammed to the floor.
Before its legs had even stopped bouncing, Key was over it, pointing at the thing with every order. “Stuff it with grenades and use it to plug the entry hole! Kick it through just before detonation!”
Nichols thought Daniels’s understanding grin would split the sergeant’s face as he shoved grenades into the creature’s bullet-ravaged maw, while simultaneously helping Key drag the carcass back to the Holy Gate.
“Yes, excellent!” Rahal cheered. “At least one consort, this one, would have been waiting on the ceiling just inside. Another one, likely waiting to attack whatever got past it!”
Key and Daniels slammed the creature down on the hole. Daniels moved to jump on it, but Key pushed him back. “You can hold me better than I could hold you!”
The sergeant couldn’t argue, so he jumped over to the maw. Modern grenades had exact fuses, so there was no longer any second delay one way or the other. He didn’t even say ready, just flicked open the pins.
“One, two, three—” they counted in unison, then Key leaped into the air.
He slammed his entire weight onto the carcass on “four.” The creature fell down and through the gate on “five.” Daniels grabbed Key before he tumbled in after the beast and threw himself on the ground alongside Nichols just as the grenades erupted.
Even before the last of the debris had fallen, Key was back up grabbing the drone in one hand while intensely motioning Nichols up with the other.
“Stick the camera lens just below the air lock surface,” he instructed. “Keep all your digits above the lip. Speedy, can you turn the camera three-sixty?”
“Yes, sir,” Gonzales responded in their ears.
“Okay,” Key continued to Nichols. “Then just cram it down there.”
Nichols responded in kind, grabbing the drone at the same moment she fell to her knees by the gate, quickly making sure where the camera was.
“Hunh.” Daniels grunted, looking at the rubberized maw of the gate. “Looks like a fucking muff.”
As Nichols stuffed the thing through, careful to keep even her gloved fingers clear, Key didn’t bother saying anything like “not now” or “not helping” to his friend. Keeping his eyes intent on the video feed in the corner of his goggles, he just quickly and lightly back-fisted the sergeant in the nuts.
Daniels did a quick, involuntary, seemingly German-military bow, his expression communicating that he got the message loud and clear. Then he, like the others, saw that the booby-trapped consort had done its job. Its carcass lay splattered all over the place while two more creatures lay on the web-padded floor directly under either side of the opening. One’s belly was torn open, while the other had at least three ruined legs.
Daniels snatched the M4 Key had given Nichols out of her hands and shoved his M249 into her arms instead, anticipating Key’s orders. “Finish them.”
Without pausing, Nichols used the barrel of the SAW as a syringe directly in the center of the soiled va-jay-jay, then followed it. Both Daniels and Key grabbed her hips and legs as her top half disappeared.
From her vantage point, she saw the wounded pair bathed in her helmet light, then pounded their heads with bullets, directly in the space ahead and behind their mouths, one after another.
“Done,” she reported, and, to her surprise, was immediately yanked up. “Hey,” she added, “I thought I’d get a closer examination.”
“Not going to risk you when we have the drone,” Key snapped. “No telling what the bitch queen might do with her guards gone.”
“Yes,” Rahal said. “You weren’t at the beach, Private. You didn’t see how they could leap or lasso.”
Nichols remained silent, but she may have swallowed.
“Speedy,” Key said. “Study, analyze, report on the camera’s input.”
“We’re both doing it now, Sergeant Major,” Gonzales said. “Being thorough.”
“Good. Anything?”
“Webs padding everywhere,” Gonzales answered, “but the biggest concentration is in the farther corner, away from the ceiling opening.”
“Not surprising,” said Rahal. “Fairly standard arachnid camouflage behavior.”
Key nodded at Daniels, who uncoiled elastic rope from his pack and knelt before Nichols. “All right, Private, you know the deal. Given your previous exposure to the webbing, and your recovery, the odds are that you’re far more, if not totally, resistant to it. So it has been decided by majority rule that you go in solo.”
“Not by me,” Daniels grumbled as he attached a harness to Nichols.
Key ignored him. “Don’t try marksmanship practice,” he warned, handing her the matching pack to the one he left at the copter. “Use the SAW only if you need it to make a clear path to the target. Then prime it and toss it. We’ll see that it’s on target and yank you up. Right?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Okay.” Key sighed, helping her to her feet. “Let’s finish the job and get the hell out of here.”
The sergeant and major took their positions on either side of the entrance. Without hesitation or even a look back, Nichols hopped onto the center of the rubberized maw, and started sinking through it.
“I am not going to say what that looks like,” Daniels commented as he expertly handled the rope.
“I knew you wouldn’t.” Key sighed. If he hadn’t been so sure of Daniels’s dep
endability, he would have buried his foot between the man’s legs for even attempting to relieve the tension.
By then Nichols was through and being lowered to the nest floor. Six pairs of eyes scrutinized the images from her helmet-cam. They all, Nichols included, made careful note of the carcasses she landed between, making sure they didn’t, like in some bad slasher flick, suddenly spring back to life. They didn’t, so after making a quick survey of the entire space, Nichols stepped toward the opposite end of the cavern, toward the predominance of webbed padding.
“Shit, it even looks like a web-padded throne,” Daniels muttered.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Key ordered, concentrating everything he had on the images. He even found himself leaning forward, although he knew that would have no effect on the image size. Something twitched inside the center of the webbing.
Rahal gasped.
“Open it up,” Key said, even as Nichols’s M249 was up and tearing a jagged hole right where the twitch had come.
Shit, Key seethed to himself. Knew it was the damn pedipalp antennae. He should have ordered Nichols to shoot just below it. But even he paused for a second as they all stared into the torn, wet, quivering, maw of the arachnosaur queen, its crimson-onyx eyes burning with pain and hate.
But that was all they had time to do, because, even before Nichols had a chance to prime the explosives, Usa Awar appeared directly behind the queen. He stood, pushed forward a gold-plated, fifty-caliber Desert Eagle automatic and shot Private Terri Nichols in the head.
Chapter 34
Daniels yanked Nichols back and up, while Key dove directly into the maw, Beretta M9 first. It happened so fast no one had a chance to do or say anything about it.
Daniels swore a blue streak behind him, but Key didn’t care. As soon as his eyes cleared the bottom lip, he was firing at the arachnosaur queen and Awar, whatever came first.
He had the gratifying sight of seeing his bullets plow into the creature’s gigantic head, as well as ricochet off the Desert Eagle’s gleaming barrel in a shower of sparks that sent the heavy handgun lurching to the side.
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