The Hunted

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by Steve Scheunemann


  “Look, I know that by joining you I will hurt them. I want badly to hurt them, I think you all know that, but something happened when I was a prisoner, real or fake, in the belly of the BGP transport. I guess I…well I found God, or he found me, or something. Don’t worry, I haven’t lost touch with reality and I am not going to stand on a street corner and start preaching. I just know that I have to be mindful of God in all that I do. Somehow I’ll reconcile that with my need for vengeance. Maybe if I can hurt them while doing something to stop their evil, well maybe that will be enough. I have my demons still; I’ll lay them to rest in good time. Meanwhile, let’s make the world a little bit better.”

  “Okay.”

  Suddenly standing and pacing around her office, Matt replied, “Okay? That’s it? No questions? No concerns about my motivations, loyalties?”

  “Nope. Wanna know why? It’s because we know your heart. We’ve watched you from your birth for the first twelve years. We lost touch for awhile, but through Angus we were reunited. You are part of us. You’re family. Angus thought of you like a brother, Fidelis thinks of you as a son.”

  Matt’s eyes grew round with surprise. The face he’d spent a lifetime schooling to show only what he wanted it to revealed his shock.

  “Yes Matt, Fidelis is alive and here in Christchurch. We’ve kept that knowledge from you because we needed you to decide you wanted to join us because you believed in our cause, not out of loyalty to him.

  “I don’t know the whole story of the years since you last saw him, he only managed to get to us six months ago, but I can tell you that he has never ceased looking for you. In fact, the only way we managed to keep him here in the past half year was our ability to keep track of you and show him you would eventually be brought here.

  “Matt, we have a Hunter who says she wants to join us. I don’t know if you were aware, but Fidelis is something like a human lie detector. He always knows when someone is lying. He says she is sincere when she claims to want to join our cause.”

  “If Abbey, who was raised to hate us and view the ‘genetically inferior’ as less than human deserving only of death, can realize the truth, you, who were raised for twelve years by Fidelis, and the other monks, and spent the last several years with Angus…well, to put it simply we think we know your heart better than you do.”

  Colonel Vicki Rawlson knew that not everyone shared her faith in Matt, but Angus had. She had always trusted his instincts. She missed him terribly. She had always known that one day he would come home to New Zealand to stay. When that happened they were to have been married. She missed him terribly, and Matt had been like a little brother to him. That made him family.

  “Matt, you say you’ve rediscovered God, but you’re not sure if in the end you’ll give in to the desire for vengeance that you still feel, is that essentially it?

  “You thought that just perhaps I, or others in authority, might think that makes you unstable? We’re supposed to think that a person of faith is insane?

  “Matt, I realize that the rest of the world is largely atheist, but here in New Zealand you will find most people are people of faith. No, we don’t have any State Religion and not everyone here is religious, but most of us are.

  “You can’t live in one little bitty island nation that stands alone against the world holding out against all odds and not believe in God. How else could we have survived as long as we have?”

  Leaning over to look at the photograph on the desk, Matt saw a much younger Angus than the one he’d known standing in front of a high waterfall with a strikingly beautiful young woman with Auburn hair plaited and hanging over one shoulder. The two of them seemed to have eyes only for one another. After a moment Matt realized the young woman was Colonel Rawlson.

  “You loved him very much didn’t you?” he said, nodding at the photograph.

  “More than I can say. He was the bravest man I ever knew. He was the kindest man I ever knew. He was the best man I ever knew, and he was so very proud of you.”

  “He died because of me….”

  “Stop it right now,” Vicki snapped. “He died because he was fighting for something he believed in. He refused assignment to the training cadre at least three times. He was the best we had at moving among them. He took the hardest missions and the gravest risks. He walked the razor’s edge for so long, daring Malone to catch him. He slipped in and out of so many tight spots people started to think he was untouchable.

  “He always knew better though. He knew exactly how fragile human life is. That’s why he did it. He wanted to make the world a better place.”

  Now it was Vicki’s turn to pace. Blowing out an explosive breath and turning her back to stare at nothing in a vain effort to hide her tears, she said “Yeah, I miss him. He was so damn good at his job. Too damn good. He always knew that someday Malone would catch up to him.

  “The point, Matt, is that while he may have died in Japan with you, if not for you he would probably have been dead long before. His time with you was almost peaceful compared to some of the really hairy stuff he did before you.”

  “Yeah, I read the Angus Companion. He really did all that stuff huh?”

  “Yes, he did. Like I said he was the bravest man I ever knew.”

  “Colonel, he was amazing, but so are you. I know you were there for most of that stuff. I also know that he loved you, too.”

  Knowing this conversation had strayed far from the colonel talking to her newest captain Vicki swallowed the lump in her throat as the tears began to flow unheeded down her face.

  “Call me Vicki,” a sound that was half laugh and half sob tore from her throat, “but only when we’re alone.

  “How? How do you know he loved me? He can’t have talked about me. It was not part of his cover story. I know he was looking forward to bringing you in and sharing everything with you, but he wouldn’t have done that until you were ready.”

  “I know because he did talk about you. You weren’t in New Zealand, but ‘back home’ in Scotland, and such a bonny lass there never has been before or since.”

  “Oh my God, Matt, that is almost as bad as Angus’ accent.”

  “Vicki, did he ever truly think anyone was fooled by it? I mean it was so…bad.”

  “I know. He did too, but once he’d started it as part of his cover story he couldn’t abandon it without a new story, so he was stuck.

  “I think he knew that you weren’t fooled. I also think it amused him that you both knew and neither was ever going to talk about it. It showed him that you loved and trusted him, like the brothers you two were.”

  “I may have been his brother, but you were his one true love. I always figured there was some tragic story to his missing lass.”

  “Devotion to duty kept us apart, but it was that same devotion to duty that drew us together initially. Had either of us failed in our duty we would not then have been the person the other loved so well. Careful it does not do the same to you and your new bride.”

  “Got me pegged already as the fanatic for duty, huh?”

  “No Matt. It’s Abbey I’m thinking about. She may well feel the need to prove herself. I assume you’ve asked her to join your team?”

  “Yeah. We talked about it on our trip. She’s in. She’ll answer any questions you have, be available to your intel people whenever they need her, but when the team goes operational, she goes too.

  “I’ll need to meet the team. I’ve read the files seen and the tapes of them in action. That’s quite a group. Can they stand toe to toe with Hunters though?”

  “Well, I guess that will be up to you and Abbey to determine, won’t it?”

  44

  June 12, 2080

  New York, North American Territory

  Malone was troubled. He’d lost two men in the Rockies. He had assembled the best team in the BGP’s existence and thus in the entire history of the world. He’d sent five Hunters and the uniforms into the mountains after two people. Two who were barely more than chil
dren. He still didn’t know how Mtumbe had met his end. He had been the best tracker to walk the face of the earth, and if not quite up to Malone’s standard in combat, he was far better than even most Hunters.

  No doubt they had somehow managed to come at him at the same time. Having fought Matthew himself, Malone knew he was better than Mtumbe but he couldn’t be that much better, could he?

  He had the remainder of the team working with the M-100 honing their skills. Hu Li was in China on a mission for Fadwah. So Malone was sleeping alone these days.

  As Rachel Depardieu made a particularly difficult pass, removing the ear of the practice dummy, with a flick of her wrist she retracted the cutting wire, flipped the baton, and sent the capture wire out to wind around the neck of the dummy. Were the dummy a person instead, they would now be choking from the wire tightly wrapped around their throat, wondering how their ear had come to be on the floor at their feet.

  Watching her work Malone once again considered what a beautiful woman she was. Moving with a lithe grace that belied the strength she possessed, she released the neck of the practice dummy.

  “Rachel, after you’ve showered meet me for dinner tonight at Toscani’s, reservation is for 8:00,” Malone said as he rose and left the room, not waiting for a response.

  Their dinner had been exquisite, the service sublime, and the company enchanting. Malone had expected his sniper and field commander to be arrogant, yet subservient. She was both, yet somehow still charming. She let him know that while she knew and respected his power and authority, she also knew her own worth as a Hunter, the world’s premiere sniper, and as a woman .

  “So, when will Hu Li be back from China?”

  “Not for two more days. Don’t tell me you miss her?”

  “No, of course not. While she may be very good at what she does she is not a Hunter. We lost a few men, and that hurt us, and Hu Li’s skills at administration are awesome. Her connection to Minister Fadwah invaluable, and loathe though I am to admit it, at combat, she’s very impressive, but still not someone I miss, or that we need in the field.”

  “So you think her inclusion in the team is unnecessary?”

  “Let’s just say that I don’t think we need to crawl in bed with her,” Rachel replied with a raised eyebrow and small smile.

  “Really? I assume you know what you’re suggesting?”

  “Indeed I do. You, Deputy Director Malone, need a partner who knows her way around the BGP. Hu Li is an assistant to Minister Fadwah, and no matter how good she is in bed, I’m better. You need a woman who can watch your back, be a partner as well as a subordinate. Someone who can aid in your rise to director…and beyond.”

  “And you think you are that woman?”

  “Why don’t we go back to your place and discuss it in intimate detail?” Rachel responded rising with that small smile Malone was beginning to really enjoy.

  Waking up an hour before dawn was a habit so deeply ingrained that Malone was deeply shocked to awaken lying in Hu Li’s bed with sunlight in his eyes.

  “Mmmmm, Good morning Mr. Deputy Director sir,” Rachel Depardieu said as she slid her gloriously naked body over his. Straddling him she guided him inside.

  Rocking her hips more and more swiftly she goaded Malone’s passion higher and higher. Thrusting to meet her he reached up and grabbed her long blonde braided ponytail. Wrenching her head back until her body followed he sat up. Rolling over he flipped Rachel onto her stomach and entered her from behind.

  As their passion rose higher and higher both Malone and Rachel began to get rougher.

  Spinning out from under Malone, Rachel stood. He followed, slamming her against the wall. Biting her neck as she clawed at his back, hands grabbed breasts and buttocks as both thrust into each other. Bodies glistened with sweat as Malone lifted Rachel, her legs wrapped around his body as he continued to thrust. Slamming back into the wall, knocking a framed picture to the floor with a crash, the lamp fell from the dresser followed as Malone set her atop it, never breaking his rhythm.

  Malone never suspected, never considered that Hu Li might have hidden cameras in her own bedroom.

  45

  June 15, 2080

  Nepal, Asian Territory

  Prince Kalbhoj was not generally known by that name. He had a thoroughly modern name. In all official documents and to the world at large he was known as Roger Bahadur. He was the unknown how many times great grandson of the original Prince Kalbhoj, also known as Bappa Rawal, who was the first Gurkha and the founder of house Mewar. In the 8th century he became the first of a people who were dedicated to a warrior tradition. For a time they had served the British Empire, centuries before that the Gurkhas had founded Nepal. During the battles for Indian independence in 1947 Gurkhas had earned so much respect and admiration for their prowess in battle, and their loyalty, that both the Indian and British governments had desired to retain their services. They had become legendary. Armed with modern equipment they nevertheless refused to give up their traditional knives. The Khukri was always handmade, a skill passed from father to son for almost 1400 years. Modern blades were made from automobile leaf springs, the high carbon content in the steel allowing for a blade that was both flexible and held an edge. Legend said that never had a Gurkha Khukri been broken in battle.

  Kalbhoj and his people refused to become part of the new order. They protected their heritage. They had fought the British government to a standstill. When the British could not defeat them without losing ten men for every confirmed Gurkha death, they instead employed them. They took entire regiments into the British army. What they also did was allow the Gurkhas to remain a thriving and proud people. They respected them, honored them even.

  When the Government took control, Prince Kalbhoj’s uncle, who was the ruler of the Gurkha people, offered their services to the new government. He had been sent on his way, with thanks for his offer. He had been refused politely, but refused nonetheless. Within a year the government had disarmed the Gurkhas.

  They were no longer allowed to be the warriors they had been for millennia. When the government took charge of procreation, it seemed the end of the Gurkha people was in sight. In Nepal, there still existed dense jungles in vast stretches of land, and scattered throughout these were countless small villages.

  It was to these villages that Kalbhoj and thirty thousand of his people fled. They would keep their traditions alive and continue to be a free people. Their rifles gone, they were armed only with the Khukris that had served for 1400 years.

  “In Croatia a group who desired what we do, only their freedom, were slaughtered. One man survived. He, like my uncle, had sent most of his people to hide. Into the hills they fled.

  “This man, Vasily, by name, he is a tragic man, for it was the leader who survived when all his warriors perished. I met him on my trip to Paris. He has been aided by the Basques. They have moved him to their mountains. He will go from there to the Americans. The Sons of Liberty will hide him for a time as well.”

  The half-dozen small, dark-skinned men sat in a circle on the dirt floor of the hut. Prince Ranodip Singh, Kalbhoj’s cousin and second in command, was slowly working a stone along the edge of his Khukri. It was razor sharp like the blade of every man here, but the act of caring for his weapon was soothing. Maintaining the edge on the blade helped maintain the edge on a warrior’s spirit as well.

  “Kalbhoj, why do we know all of this? Have we not survived this long by knowing only what we must about the other groups who resist? If we could band together and defeat the enemy I would advise we do it, but we cannot. We would bleed them, but in the end we would be gone and they would still be here. If this is the course you choose for us I will fight at your side and bleed them very much, but in the end….”

  “Ah, Ranodip, how well I know your courage. It is that of the tiger. I tell you all this because when I met with Vasily, we talked much. We talked of the man Angus and all that he did for our cause. We talked of this Matt and all he has done.
When we, together, watched the Angus Chronicle with Marco of the Basques, and Connor from America, we all agreed that this man should lead us. The Ghurkas need a strong leader. We have hidden here in our jungle for too long. We will pledge ourselves to his service and we will fight.

  “We may well end as you fear, but hiding here we have become dull. We work our blades to keep them sharp. We believe this helps keep us sharp, but that stone will not put an edge to a blade that has gone to rust. That is what happens to us here.

  “We will fight. We will fight behind a man who has stood up to their best and still breathes.

  “I have communicated with New Zealand and they tell me he has joined them and prepares to fight. Can we then, being the oldest warrior clan in existence, be left out? I say to you we cannot. We must rise up and be proud of ourselves again. We have hidden here to preserve our people. Our people are a warrior people. We remain a warrior people only so long as we do not shirk the battle.

  “This is a war we may not win, but it is one we must surely fight, for if we do not we will lose as surely as if we were killed to the last man, woman, and child.

  “We have all agreed this man is the man to lead us. We will therefore place our warriors in his service. Just as we once did for the British king and the queen who followed him, we will be warriors for a strong and capable leader. We will go where he orders, fight the battles he asks us to. In all of this we will remain true to the Gurkha ways.

  “We will fight, we will die if need be, but we will go out as men should go, on our feet, with our Khukri stained with the blood of those who would make us less than men.”

  When Kalbhoj finished speaking there was a moment’s silence. The first man on his feet was Prince Ranodip Singh. It started slowly but rose in volume as every man there, each the head man in his village, joined in the chant.

 

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