The Terminals

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The Terminals Page 12

by Royce Scott Buckingham


  “Their debriefing is not part of our mission,” Donnie reminded her.

  “And why did the pirates kill the other three?” Jules persisted. “Maybe these survivors know.”

  “We don’t talk to them,” Donnie said more firmly. “Those are the orders.”

  “That’s true,” Ari said reluctantly. “We’re all probably curious, but we’re just supposed to free them, not interrogate them.”

  “They thanked me,” Jules said, her voice still quavering.

  “They should thank Gwen,” Calliope said quietly.

  The words stabbed at Cam’s conscience like a dart. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

  They all turned and looked at him. There was silence for a moment.

  “For what?” Zara said finally.

  Cam looked from face to face for accusation or blame. He saw none, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. “For Gwen,” he said.

  “We’re all sorry,” Ari replied, his tone strangely matter-of-fact.

  “But I’m especially sorry.”

  “Why?” Donnie said. “Were you looking to hook up with her?”

  Owen giggled, and Jules shot Donnie an angry look.

  “No,” Cam said, incredulous. “I got her killed.”

  Ari didn’t even look up from the wheel. “No, you didn’t. You kept that dude from killing all of us.”

  “It was a good throw,” Zara added.

  Cam glanced at Calliope, looking for a softer opinion, but she afforded him none. Her face was blank, her eyes empty—the emotion of her musical soul was buried somewhere behind them. Only Jules seemed outwardly distressed, but she didn’t blame him either.

  “It’s what she wanted, Cam,” Ari assured him. “It’s why she signed up.”

  “A quick, easy death,” Donnie snapped. “That’s the deal here, or didn’t you get the memo?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Cam said, growing testy.

  Ari intervened again. “She went out a hero.”

  “With a bang,” Donnie said.

  “And she sure doesn’t have to worry about that tumor anymore,” Owen added, looking to Donnie for support. Donnie rewarded him with a smirk.

  “Jerks,” Jules mumbled.

  They’re punchy, Cam thought. Jacked up. One more bad joke and they’ll descend into a giggle fit. It was tough to condemn them—anyone might be half crazed from the insanity and adrenaline rush they’d just lived through. He didn’t feel so good himself, although he thought he was more likely to puke than laugh.

  It suddenly felt crowded and hot in the pilothouse, and Cam’s head began to swim. He excused himself and slid out onto the deck for some air.

  Feeling his way along the rail in the moonless night, he wondered if he might fall overboard and drown. A quick, easy death, he thought. No such luck—he found himself on the bow again. The sea and the sky were black together, and the yacht bore him blindly through both with a steady hum and a rhythmic rise and fall. It made him think of the metal band Necromoor and their song “The Endless Nothing.” It was not so different from falling out of the helicopter, a weightless headlong rush into the unknown.

  Even after Cam returned to the pilothouse, they cruised for another half an hour with no lights, trusting a fluorescent compass Ari kept below the dash. When Ari finally switched the interior overheads back on, there was a collective sigh of relief. The team found seats, and each sat quietly with his or her thoughts, or they mumbled about what was left to do on the mission checklist. Jules and Calliope had gone to the stern to busy themselves cooking food that had not been taken by the pirates. They were all waiting for Ward to check in, and they no longer spoke of the loss of Gwen.

  Their guests were quiet and confined to the big bedroom where Zara had tackled Cam. Their spokesperson had banged on the door and demanded to speak with whoever was in charge. But Donnie had gone down and made it clear that there would be no speaking except among themselves, apparently while brandishing his dart gun. Nice, Cam thought. After the terror of the pirate camp, the last thing they needed was someone with a gun locking them up without any explanation. The survivors were all women, a fact Cam hadn’t realized until he’d had a chance to calm himself. The Scandinavian man, the young doc in the Red Sox hat, and the boat captain had all been reduced to heads in the dirt. Perhaps some bizarre notion of chivalry among pirates had saved the women, he thought. The image of the surprised face of the young man in the Sox cap leaped into his head. Just out of med school, from the look of him. Like a future version of Ari. And, like Ari, his life had been condensed before he could reap the benefits of his intelligence and hard work in school.

  “We’re out of pirate waters,” Ari announced. “Ward should be checking in any moment now.”

  Moments later, the yacht’s phone rang. Ari turned and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Good call, boss,” Zara said, reaching over to flip on the speakerphone.

  “Ari? You there, kid?” Ward’s voice was easily recognizable, even with the poor connection.

  “Right here.”

  “So you’re alive. Great. And the outcome?”

  “They killed another doc. We rescued seven.”

  “Understood. How many team casualties?”

  “Gwen.”

  The room went silent while they waited for Ward to comment, and Cam realized that they had no idea whether the mission had been a success or disaster.

  “That’s it?” Ward said finally.

  “And one pirate,” Cam added, thinking of Ranuel and the yawning red shotgun hole in his torso.

  “That dirtbag doesn’t count,” Donnie growled.

  “Yes, he does,” Ward said. “Cam is correct. All people count. But is two truly the sum total of the collateral damage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow!” Ward exclaimed, sounding genuinely impressed. “Excellent job, everyone. Top notch. I’ll look forward to receiving you upon your return. In the meantime, quarantine the doctors, and there’s champagne for all of you hidden behind a false panel in the cupboard to Ari’s right. Raise one glass for Gwen’s graduation and stow her in ice for burial here. This is the only time we’ll use the yacht, so enjoy the cruise back. See you at home.”

  Home? Cam thought. A compound on a remote beach with nine—no, eight—other college kids whose last names he didn’t know sounded cool, but it didn’t sound like home.

  CAM’S PLAYLIST

  17. DRIFT

  by Slurpy

  18. CAN’T BEAT ME

  by Two-One-Two Zone

  19. BROKED APART HEART

  by The Shitkickers

  “If you look to the sea, you’ll find me

  drifting, drifting, drifting.”

  Gwen’s ceremony was brief. Celebrating felt wrong, so they didn’t open the champagne for it. Ari said a few words, ending his eulogy with their spoken oath, “My life for the good of the many.” Cam recovered his Clip Chip player from its hiding place and played “Cool Cruel Sunset” by Shocking Pinkies over its tiny speakers. Then they covered her with ice to keep her corpse from rotting, as Ward had suggested.

  Ari said it had been a quick, painless way to go. Cam thought it terrifying, horrible, and violent, but didn’t say so. He kept her glasses. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because of the anonymity of her death. Without a token of her, it might feel as though she had never existed at all.

  Four hours later, they unloaded the docs to a waiting skiff operated by Pilot. Afterward, celebrating seemed more appropriate. They found plastic cups and passed the champagne. Donnie shrugged off a small cup and took pulls straight from a full bottle. Wally opted out, but chattered incessantly despite being sober. There was even some laughter. It was then that Cam chose to summon everyone to the large quarters.

  “I found something at the pirate camp,” he said once they’d all gathered, and he hoisted the backpack onto the same bed where he’d denied himself access to Zara’s incredible body.

  “I was going to ask you about that,”
Ari said.

  Cam didn’t explain, but simply upended the pack and dumped its contents onto the bedspread. The bundles of hundreds tumbled out like green bricks, spilling over the bed and onto the floor. They kept coming, and Cam had to shake the pack to dislodge them all. The team stood and stared. Wally giggled. Jules reached out as though wanting to touch it, but her hand just hovered over the pile.

  “How much?” Zara asked.

  Ari scanned the pile. “Figuring one hundred hundreds per bundle, and given that this is one hell of a big stack of bundles, I’m gonna guess a million.” He looked up. “Remember the Korean ship I read about, Cam?”

  Zara whistled.

  Cam glanced up to find Donnie’s face turning purple. “Dude, your face is turning purple,” Cam said.

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this, Cam?!” Donnie exploded, as though Cam’s words had popped him like a balloon.

  “I’m telling you now.” Cam’s hand slid instinctively to the front pocket of his shorts. At the bottom of the pocket was a velvet pouch. His teammates had no way to know he’d removed it from the backpack, but having all of their eyes on him made him nervous. There were diamonds in the pouch. Big diamonds. And he didn’t know why he’d taken them anymore than he knew why he’d taken Gwen’s glasses.

  Donnie remained ignorant, still fuming about the cash. He picked up a bundle of bills. “This money is part of the mission. You should have given it to Pilot!”

  “And we will,” Ari assured him. “Cam is simply conferring with us, his teammates, before taking that action, right, Cam?”

  “Listen, little professor,” Donnie growled, “you don’t tell me—”

  A bundle of hundreds hit Donnie in the head. It bounced off and landed at his feet. He turned slowly, steaming.

  “Money fight!” Wally yelled. He tore open a second bundle and showered Cam with the bills.

  Cam didn’t react as the bills silently drifted down around him. Nobody else joined in either, but Ari saw his chance to duck out.

  “I’d better get up to the helm,” he said. “Pack this stuff back up.”

  Cam had killed the celebratory mood. Or Donnie had. It wasn’t clear who was at fault. Cam picked up the backpack and began to gather the cash. Jules helped. Donnie couldn’t bring himself to either help or leave the room, and so he stayed to observe, perhaps thinking someone might pocket a portion of the loot. Cam couldn’t fault the guy’s instincts. He was dead right—Cam already had taken a cut.

  The hours of tension were followed by a mellow ride back to their own stretch of coastline, where they piled into the Zodiac to go ashore.

  “I’m gonna miss her,” Ari muttered as he ushered the others in.

  “Yeah,” Cam said.

  Then Ari patted the rail, and Cam realized he was talking about the yacht.

  “Ward says we won’t use her again,” Ari said. “Her name was Harsh Mistress.”

  “Still is. Says so right there on the back.”

  “The stern.”

  “Whatever. Say good-bye, pal.”

  “Good-bye, pal,” Ari said to the yacht, and he stepped into the Zodiac.

  CAM’S PLAYLIST

  18. CAN’T BEAT ME

  by Two-One-Two Zone

  19. BROKED APART HEART

  by The Shitkickers

  20. DOWN TIME

  by Robo Dork

  “I’ve got a pass to kick your ass!”

  Cam awoke in the afternoon to Ari’s humming. His roommate’s song was an imitation of the tropical birds in the distance, and it was a pretty darn good rendition.

  “Dude, you are entirely too chipper,” Cam groaned.

  “Lunch in ten minutes. Briefing afterward. You don’t want to miss that.”

  “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  “And shower up. You still have blood on you.”

  Cam had the outdoor shower to himself. It felt odd. He’d showered with Gwen just the day before. Today he washed off her blood.

  Lunch was breakfast food—omelets and mango juice with a slab of peccary on the side. Ari drank coffee, which he proclaimed “excellent.” Cam passed—he’d always thought coffee tasted like warmed-over liquid dirt. Afterward, Ward gathered them in the classroom to debrief.

  “I’ll be meeting with each of you separately,” he began. “But first I’d like to tell you a few things about your mission that you might not know. In their careers, these seven doctors you rescued have already saved more than one hundred lives between them. Now they will live on to save at least that many more. You lost one dying teammate and possibly one pirate. Ergo, you are dozens of lives in the plus column. Congratulations.”

  He began to clap, slowly and then more insistent. Donnie joined first. Owen followed. Then Zara and Tegan started in. Soon they were all clapping—even Cam, though mostly because he didn’t want to be the odd man out.

  Ward continued. He was enthusiastic, like a happy coach after a win. He reviewed their success. By all appearances, a bunch of rich college kids had been captured by outlaws and simply busted out, taking the other hostages with them. They’d left no evidence, save a couple of odd syringes, which could be accounted for by the presence of the doctors. There was no way to trace the team’s identities. And because it seemed an escape and not an apparent political incursion, there would be no repercussions from the volatile, newly formed government against the United States.

  As Ward’s recap wound down, Donnie turned and pointed at Cam. The backpack sat at Cam’s feet. Donnie had threatened to tell Ward about it himself if Cam didn’t bring it to the debriefing. Cam reached down and hauled it up into his lap.

  “Ward, we brought you something,” Cam announced.

  Ward nodded. “I see. What is it?”

  “A backpack.”

  Wally laughed. Cam walked the pack to the front of the room and sat it before Ward like an offering.

  “It was in a cabinet behind three severed heads.”

  Ward lifted the heavy pack. “Those are usually meant to ward off intruders.”

  “Yeah, well, I would have been warded,” Cam said, “but Zara made me go in.”

  Ward zipped open the backpack and looked inside. His face was a mask, except for one eyebrow, which shot up. “How much?” he asked after a moment.

  “One million even,” Ari said.

  Cam walked back to his seat, relinquishing any claim to the fortune. The fact that it was an even amount of cash ensured that Ward wouldn’t think he’d taken any. Why would I? Cam wondered. They had everything they could desire in their beachside paradise. Besides, where would they spend it? There was no reason to want money. But he had taken the diamonds, and he’d told no one, not even Ari. He’d even hidden them in the sand under his condo. An animal had burrowed a small space beneath the rear wall, and he’d wriggled underneath to bury them there.

  He wondered if Ward could somehow sense that he’d lifted them. The guy had instincts like a panther. If he did, he didn’t say anything. He simply slung the pack full of bills over his shoulder and dismissed them.

  “All right then. I’ll donate this to the cause. Good work, Cam. In the meantime, we are off the clock. I’ll take Ari first for individual debriefing. The rest of you go relax. You’ve earned it.”

  CAM’S PLAYLIST

  19. BROKED APART HEART

  by The Shitkickers

  20. DOWN TIME

  by Robo Dork

  21. PERFORMANCE ANXIETY

  by Crush

  “I love your face, your place,

  your body in lace … just not you.”

  They filed out of the bunker, and Jules caught Cam on the way to the condos.

  “I talked to them,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

  “Who?”

  “The doctors.”

  “They thanked you, right?”

  “No. I mean, yes, but I talked to one of them some more. On the yacht.”

  “That’s against the rules.”

  “Not t
he ‘unbreakable’ ones.”

  “Yes it is, actually—contact with the outside world.”

  Jules rolled her eyes. “They’re people. Scared people. One of them told me her headless husband was getting out.”

  “Out of what?”

  “I dunno. The people she works for, I guess.”

  “Worlds Apart, Worlds Together?”

  “That’s not who she said they worked for.”

  “So who did she say she worked for?” It was Zara. She’d snuck up on them so quietly—unnaturally quietly—that she was part of their conversation before they realized she was there.

  Cam shot Jules a look—time to shut up. But she didn’t catch it.

  “We didn’t talk long enough to get that far,” she said.

  “What else did you talk about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Zara used her stare-down technique, meeting Jules’s eyes. Cam watched Jules wither.

  “Not much. Just that they’re in drug research. That’s all. Nothing much.”

  “That’s not nothing,” Zara said.

  “Really, that’s all. The woman was just a bit freaked. She blabbed some stuff out. I told her everything was going to be okay, and she didn’t need to explain.”

  “I’m sure you did.” Zara’s eyes were narrow. She was thinking. Cam didn’t like it. Finally, she shrugged and walked off.

  “That was stupid!” Cam snapped at Jules once Zara was gone.

  “What?”

  “You need to watch your mouth. And keep me out of your rule violations. We weren’t supposed to talk to them.”

  “I didn’t ‘reveal the organization.’” Jules made little finger quotes in the air. “Or tell her what we do. I just comforted her. So I listened to someone upset—what’s the big deal?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing, maybe. It’s just that everything has suddenly gotten so serious. People are dying.”

  “Duh! We’re dying. That’s why we’re here.” Jules spotted Ari coming out of the bunker as Wally was summoned inside. She turned and left Cam in favor of his roommate, but not without taking a parting shot. “Not to get yelled at.”

  Cam found himself walking up the beach alone. The door to Zara’s condo was open. It would have been polite not to glance inside, in case she was changing, but he did. She sensed him, whirled, and met his eyes. Caught, he was forced to say something.

 

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