by Michael Todd
The hacker opened the door to the server room and rubbed her eyes.
“What is the problem?” she asked and sounded like the other woman’s shouts had woken her up from a quick catnap at her desk. Amanda almost felt bad.
“Sections ten through fifteen are offline,” Amanda stated belligerently. “Did you do that?”
“It wasn’t me,” Anja answered defensively.
“Connie?”
“Am I allowed to speak again?” the AI asked after a pause.
“Did you or did you not turn those sections offline to spite me for threatening you?” Amanda demanded, her tone threatening.
“My programming allows various jokes of all varieties, but they are not allowed to interfere with my defensive capabilities,” Connie answered. “I have a personality but am unfortunately shackled into protecting you meat bags from harm.”
“Did she just call us motherfucking meat bags?” the Russian asked, her head tilted in a challenge.
“Ignore her,” the armorer snapped and quickly brought the sections back online. “She’s been in a pissy mood all day. I’ve dealt with it so you didn’t have to.”
“Can I go back to my nap?” Anja asked with a yawn.
“Why don’t you drink some coffee, girl?”
“I haven’t slept for more than fifteen minutes at a time for over forty-eight hours now,” she protested. “I need my rest.”
“Damn. Why don’t you take a break? We all need to sleep sometime.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a personal record to beat,” the hacker said with a shrug.
“Oh?” Amanda asked.
“Fifty-five hours. When I reach fifty-six, I’ll go to bed, promise.”
Amanda shook her head as the woman disappeared into her little server room. The sensors in the problem sections came online, and her eyebrows raised when she saw why they’d gone down.
“Well, hot diggety dog,” she murmured. “It looks like we have company. Connie, would you mind putting all the guns on high alert?”
“All of them? Even the ones you specifically told me not to activate?”
“You’ll make me say it, won’t you?” She rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples in irritation.
Connie paused for a moment. “Even the ones that you spe—”
“Puta madre, would you activate gun section sixty-nine?” The armorer instructed, frustrated now. “And do me a favor and not make any disgusting jokes about that?”
“I’m sorry, Amanda,” Connie said and took on an eerily calm voice reminiscent of an AI in a classic sci-fi film. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Do you want me to activate gun seventy-two as well?”
“What’s with seventy-two?” She checked her screen quickly.
“It’s sixty-nine with three people watching,” the AI said.
Amanda drew in a deep breath and tried to remember how expensive it had been to buy this AI and that the sass that she had to put up with was merely one more price to pay for top-of-the-line security.
“Hey, Amanda,” Connie said again. “Roses are nice, violets are fine, I’ll be the six, if you’ll be the nine.”
“I’m about to shoot your fucking circuits,” she threatened.
“I’m sorry.” The AI didn’t sound sorry at all. “I simply had to get one more joke in.”
“Fuck, I’m starting to think Madigan has a good reason for being pissed at robots.”
Anton assessed the group of men assembled. Rodrigo had told them that it would be a tough mission, which was why they’d had to make landfall at the UN base instead of the American one and drive all the way out to this section of desert near the wall that was currently inhabited by their targets. The UN people still had issues setting their computer systems up, so it hadn’t been that difficult to ensure that all records of their arrival had been swallowed by a blue screen of death.
The man had told them that time was of the essence for this one, but Anton knew for a fact that he would not tolerate failure of any kind with this. It certainly was not in anyone’s best interests for their arrival on site to be noted—and especially when it was only a few days before one of the more prominent up-and-coming freelancing operations out there went up in smoke. Most of the enquiries would inevitably focus on the fact that there were bounty hunters in need of an extra score who would be far more likely to take them out than random new arrivals. Still it was better to avoid detection completely than to have to explain their presence.
Each and every man would be paid six figures for this job. They were all outfitted in the top-of-the-line armor suits that people used in the Zoo these days. It had taken a couple of days to adjust to them, but from what Anton had seen of the conditions there, they needed the extra padding between them and what was currently called the most dangerous place in the world.
Heavy Metal wasn’t the only group that needed to worry about bounty hunters and angry animals, after all, and Anton was damned if he would lose fifteen of the most expensive mercs that money could buy in this corner of the world simply because they weren’t prepared.
The training seemed to have done its job, he realized, as they had begun to work together as they moved in formation across the desert. They’d left their Russian ATVs a couple of klicks back so they wouldn’t be identified as having been anywhere near the Heavy Metal compound. All precautions needed to be taken.
As they climbed the last dune between them and the compound, the sand shifted and they immediately paused their advance. There had been no mention in any of the whitepapers that they’d been given of any animals that lurked in the sand instead of the jungle, but there was no need to take any chances at this stage of the game.
Thankfully, they had nothing to worry about, as they quickly identified their recon sniper as he rose out of the position he’d used to watch the compound for the past day and a half. Despite the fact that the man made almost half again what the rest of them did, Anton didn’t envy him in the slightest. It had to be rough to have the job of sitting around in your own filth and not be allowed to move so much as an inch in case it gave your location away to anyone who might be watching.
The rifleman wore an armor suit of his own. The team leader only hoped that there were some bathroom capabilities.
“I’ve disabled the sensors in the southeastern approach vector,” the sniper said softly. “I’m not sure how long that’ll last, though. If there was ever a time to move, we might want to do it now.”
“Are our targets inside?” Anton asked and gestured for the men to run their pre-combat weapon checks.
“There are two people inside the compound,” the sniper said, “as determined by the body heat detected, but I haven’t had a clear visual all day. I couldn’t confirm if they were our targets.”
“Well, it looks like we’ll have to take our chances,” Anton responded grimly. “Lock and load, people. We have a compound to take.”
Chapter Fourteen
He drew in a deep, awkward breath. His brain still felt fuzzy, like it usually did after he went on a bender. Those days were more and more common, he realized, and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. The air was fresh and sharp, which told him that he was in the outdoors and that he’d spent the night there. Anton sighed. He didn’t even remember where he’d gone to drink, he realized.
In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember drinking at all. There wasn’t much in the world that could fuck him up like that.
His eyes adjusted slowly to the light around him and he realized that it would have taken a bender of epic proportions for him to end up in the middle of a jungle in his underwear.
With twelve other men, also in their underwear.
In a cage.
Memories filtered in piecemeal, and as he thought about it more, the more he recalled. He hadn’t been on a bender but on a mission. While he could put the booze away like any other man, he didn’t drink on missions. That was the line he told himself he would never cross
. And yet, there he was, hungover.
Or maybe sleeping off the effects of some kind of knockout poison?
They’d broken into the place. The guns had gone offline, he remembered, thanks to the sniper who had sent some interference their way that allowed them to get inside. No, this hadn’t been a bender. He’d been at the peak of his fighting ability and had looked around for someone to fight. His head hurt but he shook it again and forced himself to focus. Another memory surfaced—the gentle prick of something that dug into the soft spots of the armor better than any bullets could. After that, nothing. Only a black darkness that had swallowed him whole.
He moved to the side of a cage, where a comm line had been installed. It blinked bright red.
“Let us out!” Anton demanded. He realized that he hadn’t pressed the button to activate it and cursed when he pushed it so hard it hurt his hand. “Let us out—now.”
“Oh, shit,” said a voice that sounded like it came from a mouth full of something. “They’re awake. Someone has a high resistance to the knockout drugs. Good morning.” There was a short pause and he heard someone talking in the background, although he couldn’t hear what they said. “Good morning. I assume I’m talking to Gerard Anton?”
“Fuck you,” he yelled. “Get me the fuck out of here, you crazy bitch.” He assumed it was a woman. The voice was vaguely feminine and from what he’d seen of the personnel who manned the base that he’d attacked, it was a three in four chance that it was a woman.
“Well, well, well. Look who rolled off the wrong side of the bed,” she said with a chuckle.
“Did we fit the cage with beds?” a second voice asked, this one with a heavy Russian accent.
“What? No, of course not. It’s only a saying. Get back in there and make some more popcorn. We’ll need it to keep up with what happens next. Shut up, Connie, there won’t be a next time.”
Anton ground his teeth as there appeared to be another woman involved in this conversation. His paperwork hadn’t told him about any Connie on the base. This Salinger Jacobs was a real dog, he realized.
“Anyway,” the voice said again, “I’ll take it that I am talking to Gerard Anton. Formerly of the SAS, currently a merc who works the dirty, dark edges of the world. See, we have someone with us who can basically find anything that people put online. These days, unless you’re the paranoid type, that’s essentially everything.”
“Fuck you!” he roared and some of the men behind him stirred groggily.
“Yeah, yeah, I thought you might have a reaction like that,” the woman said. “I assumed that you would be stupid and get angry at me instead of conserving your energy. You know, since you’re stuck in a cage in the middle of the Zoo… Hold on. Why do I think I’ve forgotten something?”
“The poison?” the Russian asked.
“Oh, right. We injected you guys with a slow-acting poison. All of you. Of course, how quickly it acts on you depends on how quickly your body processes it, but I’d give you guys about twenty-four hours before you all cough up blood and stuff. Sal extracted it, and I’m not sure how he’d feel about me using his precious stuff. He’ll probably also bitch about me having fun with you like this. Still, the way I see it, you assholes intended to kill me and my friends, so this is me giving you one hell of a better chance at survival than you would have given us.”
The woman wouldn’t shut up. Anton shook his head and tried desperately to focus.
“Wait, a chance?” he asked once he’d leaned in and pressed the comm line again. “If we’re in the middle of the Zoo with poison in our systems that’ll kill us in twenty-four hours, what the hell kind of chance do we have?”
“Oh, right, did I forget to say?” The screen of the comm came alive with the picture of a small plant—a vine with bright green leaves. “The poison is derived from this plant here. The antidote comes from the leaf. Squeeze it, drink the juice that comes out, and you’ll be fine…ish. Sal didn’t fully explain what kind of side effects the poison and the antidote have, so you’ll have to play that by ear.
“Anyway, the timer on the door should open in about five minutes, so if you guys all want to survive, I’d suggest you stick together. But knowing what kind of people you all are, I think you’ll be every man for himself as soon as the first sign of trouble comes. Be that as it may, if you keep this comm line with you, you’ll be able to follow the tracker to the nearest plants that are about…eight to nine klicks away. And since you’re all trained killers, I’m sure none of the nasty little creatures in the Zoo will bother you.”
Anton breathed deeply and looked at the rest of the men, who were all awake now. They each had the same reaction when they realized that they would die in perhaps twenty-four hours if they didn’t get to this…plant. He wasn’t even sure if it would work, but being one of the few members of this team who had previously gone into the Zoo, he knew that this many people together would attract attention. Without weapons, they would be shredded anyway.
With those odds, they might as well stay distracted in their search for some random fucking plant until the inevitable happened, right? There were questions to be answered—like how they had even managed to get them into this cage and so deep into the Zoo—but he wouldn’t bother with them at this point.
The cage door suddenly buzzed and unlocked.
“The countdown is on, boys,” the voice in the comm said in a sing-songy tone. Anton cursed, yanked the comm link from the cage, and stepped out. He didn’t like this. It definitely would not end well. He probably shouldn’t have tried to get involved with these people in the first place. The amount of money that they had offered was too damn good, and every time anyone offered too much money, things would get fucked up. Badly.
“Come on, boys,” he said and decided to take charge of this suicide run, “we need to get moving.”
“I disagree,” the man he recognized as their sniper said. “The way I see it, we’re in a cage that can protect us from almost anything out there that can kill us. If we stick around and try not to move too much, we will be fine, right? We could probably even jimmy a lock on the door so that nothing can get us and rig that comm link to make contact with someone who can save us. Someone with guns, suits, and hopefully, a way out.”
“We have poison in our system, dumbass,” Anton retorted. “Besides, there are creatures out there that can get to us even inside the cage. That spit acid. Do you really want to wait around for one of those to find us?”
They all exchanged glances. The chances were, if they were poisoned, that there was no antidote that would help them.
The truth was that they were dead men walking, one way or the other. So they might as well go out on their own terms, right? There was absolutely no sense in waiting around to die like pussies.
After a short debate, they set off and maintained a narrow and quick-moving formation through the dense jungle. The bitch hadn’t even left them with their boots, which made the trip even more unbearable. At one point, Anton began to rethink the whole idea of waiting around to die. Ego be damned, he wanted at least some comfort before he bit the dust.
A scream erupted from the back of the line and someone yelled at them to move. Anton turned and recoiled when he saw a pair of massive panthers gnawing on the remains of a couple of the men.
Why wait around for them to be finished? What would they fight the giant panthers off with anyway? Their fists?
Anton ran, as did the rest of the men, and they spread out as they made a break for it.
“What did I tell you?” the woman on the comm in his hand asked. She sounded like she was munching on popcorn.
“Fuck you!” Anton retaliated, not sure if he meant the woman or himself for ever having agreed to this bullshit assignment. He pushed his pace and tried to put some distance between himself and the rest of the men before his foot caught on what felt like a root. The jungle was so thick, now, that it was really hard to tell what was what down there.
He scrambled painfully to
his feet and winced. His wrist had twisted in the fall and maybe his ankle too. Something was definitely wrong, but he couldn’t stick around. He’d done all this for pride, dammit, and he would go through with it.
Something moved in the darkness and he froze instantly. People talked about their lives flashing before their eyes, and he had a sudden glimpse of what they meant. Roars and screams resounded behind him as the rest of his squad were torn to pieces, but the beasts seemed to avoid him for some reason.
Or maybe they simply left him to a predator that was higher up in the food chain? It was a solid theory, one that was immediately confirmed as a figure moved in the darkness and stepped closer. It was big and not quite mammalian, although he could see fur on the creature’s heavy forelimbs as it stepped ponderously through the underbrush.
“Oh…shit…”
“Do we really have to hear this?” he heard the Russian girl ask.
“Of course,” the bitch said with a laugh. “This is the best part.”
Anton tried not to listen to them. He stood as still as he could and refused to even breathe as the creature moved closer. Crazily, he thought he could identify more than four feet strike the ground, but it also sounded like a single creature thrashed and pushed through the bushes and plants in front of him.
The underbrush parted and a pair of heads emerged. Light reflected in the eyes—four of them—that stared down at him. He knew it was pointless to even imagine that it couldn’t see him, and yet, what the hell could he do? Run away?
“Fuck me,” he whispered as the lips peeled back to reveal a long row of shiny fangs in each mouth. His last thought, as the two heads descended on him, was that it looked like they were smiling.
Screams echoed through the comm link, backed by primal roars which quickly drowned the shrieks out altogether.
Amanda smirked and tapped her empty popcorn bowl. She turned to see Anja staring at her with a horrified expression.