by Ben Brown
A large man grabbed him by the hair and lifted him from the ground. He held Zac’s face level with his, snorted loudly, and spat a large mouthful of green spit and snot straight into his face.
The crowd’s taunts reached a crescendo, as punches and kicks tore into him from every direction.
“Enough — give him to me.”
The throng fell silent instantly.
The man, who had him by the hair threw him to the ground at Dominic’s feet. Dominic took Zac by the neck and lifted him high in the air; he started to squeeze, gently at first, but bit-by-bit he increased the pressure.
He stood with his back to the small helicopter, which rested about a hundred yards away. His devoted followers watched as he toyed malevolently with his prey.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at — but I have had enough.”
Zac peered over Dominic’s shoulder. Martinez, Jacobson, and the young pilot were sitting in the tiny bubble of the chopper — its engine began to whine as the rotors slowly started to turn.
All the subjects continued to watch as Dominic squeezed the life from his victim. They seemed unable to look away — all except one. A small man at the rear of the crowd glanced at the chopper and spotted Zac’s two companions making good their escape. He pushed and shoved his way through the adoring crowd, towards his leader.
“Dominic, the chopper is trying to take off!”
“Let him go, he has served his purpose.” Dominic spoke in a low growl. He was enjoying the pain he was inflicting; he wanted to savor it.
“No, you don’t understand, the pilot has …”
The man never finished his sentence. Dominic struck him across his face with the back of his free hand, dropping him to the ground unconscious.
Zac needed to hold on for a few seconds more; he had to cling to consciousness to buy enough time for the chopper to get safely in the air. Only then could he finally deal with Dominic.
Dominic drew Zac’s face close to his and whispered, “You are such a disappointment. I had hoped for some kind of a challenge. My father was so wrong about you.”
Over Dominic’s shoulder, Zac could see the tiny chopper rising into the sky. It was only a few feet from the ground, but was already heading away from the compound.
Zac looked at Dominic; his face was starting to drift out of focus. He could feel himself beginning to black out.
“Get — your — filthy — hands — off me,” Zac whispered, as he struggled for breath.
Dominic loosened his grip slightly and turned his ear to Zac’s mouth. “What’s that? I didn’t catch it. It’s too late to beg for mercy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
With the slight release of his grip, Zac gasped in a lungful of air. It burned in his chest, but it felt good.
“I said get your filthy hands off me!”
Dominic looked him in the face, just as Zac hit him with every ounce of strength he had. Dominic flew backwards, knocking over several of his admirers.
The spell broken, his people lunged for Zac in one violent, but unified movement.
“Leave him! He’s mine! At last I will see if he is my equal.”
As Dominic screamed his command, his subjects stopped in their tracks, then pulled back and waited for the battle to ensue.
Dominic got to his feet; his eyes were fixed on the man his father had sent to destroy him.
Then with ferocious speed, he struck. His blows rained down on Zac from every direction. Every kick and punch seemed filled with all the hatred and rage he could muster.
A powerful blow hit Zac in the face, knocking him to the ground.
Dominic stopped his attack and stepped back, allowing his foe to get to his feet. His chest heaved as he gulped in a great lungful of air.
Blood began to trickle from Zac’s mouth — and then stopped almost as fast as it had begun.
He was on Zac again, but his frenzied attack lacked any real aim. He was just lashing out in a blind fury.
Zac grabbed Dominic’s left wrist and snapped it down to his side, and gave him two quick jabs to the face. His nose shattered as blood gushed from his nostrils.
He twisted Dominic’s arm up and behind his back, so he faced away from him. Then he stepped back and kicked him in the ass.
Dominic went sprawling into the dust with his subjects looking on — they were clearly shocked. As he scrambled around in the dirt and dust, Zac could feel his humiliation — he found it an enjoyable sensation.
Zac turned away and walked slowly over to where he had dropped his weapons. He bent down and picked up his sword, staring at the brightly shining steel of the blade. He turned, slowly, to face man he wanted to kill.
Dominic now sat in the dust, wiping blood and dirt from his nose. He looked up — it was then that he spotted the sword; panic flooded his face.
“Stop him, somebody stop him!” Dominic screamed, as he scrambled backwards along the ground. His ass dragged through the dust, leaving a long, wide trail in its wake.
“Someone stop him!” he repeated.
His subjects’ eyes moved slowly from him to his attacker. They seemed dazed and disorientated, obviously troubled by their leader’s behavior. None of them had ever thought it possible for Dominic to show fear, or even worse — be defeated.
It took only a split second for the first of his people to obey his order. Two men threw themselves at Zac.
He cut them both down with a single stroke of his blade.
A half dozen of his people opened fire at once.
Zac dodged and weaved; he was fast, but not fast enough — two bullets tore into his chest.
The horde stopped their attack and backed away, screaming and laughing with delight. Zac froze, shocked by the force of the bullets ripping into his body. Was it going to end like this, cut down only feet from the person he hated most in the world — the person he wanted dead?
A hush fell as he slowly opened his shirt — strangely there was no pain; he looked down at two large holes gushing blood.
Dominic got to his feet, he and his subjects began their taunts again as he approached his wounded adversary. Suddenly, he stopped, eyes wide and mouth agog.
As Zac looked at his chest, the bleeding began to abate; something was coming out of the wounds! The two bullets dropped to the ground as his wounds pulsed and quivered, forcing out the unwanted objects. The holes in his chest started to seal over with new skin. There was no pain, only a strange pulsing sensation.
Zac’s eyes drifted up from his chest and fixed on Dominic.
He looked Zac in the face as he began to back away. “I have never seen regeneration like that … what has my father done to you?” There was a definite fear in Dominic’s voice.
“Doc hasn’t done anything, this is all me. It’s time to finish this — I’m going to cut your fucking head off!”
Dominic’s subjects once again froze; paralyzed by what they were witnessing, they seemed unable to help. It was impossible for them to believe, but Dominic had been defeated.
The tide had turned. Zac now walked slowly towards his prey; Dominic backed away.
“Put the sword down, Zac!”
It was his turn to freeze. Her voice washed over him as all thoughts of murder disappeared from his mind. He turned to see the person he had come to help — Lea.
There she stood, a gun leveled at his head; she was shaking.
“Lea, he needs to be stopped. You know that.”
Lea attempted to steady herself. She didn’t look good, her body was drenched with sweat.
“Zac, please, just drop the sword.”
Zac did as she asked.
Dominic began to laugh, but Zac ignored him.
“Lea, I know that Dominic has implanted his nanites in you, but you can fight them. You’re the strongest person I know.”
Her shaking had intensified to the point that she could hardly keep the gun pointed in his direction.
“Lea, do as I say — shoot him, Shoot the fool in the h
ead!” screamed Dominic, maniacally.
Zac could see blood trickling from behind her sunglasses. She had difficulty talking. “Zac — please, please,” her body began to convulse as she uttered her last words. “Please — help me.” She began to fall.
Zac dashed over and caught her; he lowered her gently to the ground. The second her body touched the dirt she began to have a seizure. Vomit spewed from her mouth as her whole body shook violently. As the seizure intensified, her sunglasses were thrown clear of her head, revealing her eyes.
Zac stared at her face in disbelief — her eyes were completely black and lifeless. Two black, marble-like spheres stared back at him.
Suddenly, the shaking stopped and her body went limp. She lay barely breathing, thick dark blood oozing from her eyes, nose and ears. Zac gently took her shoulders in his hands, and lifted her head from the dirt.
“Lea, Lea, can you hear me?”
Her body went rigid, as if being electrocuted. Gripped with fear, he lowered her to the ground.
Her whole body arched and balanced on her head and her heels; her teeth chattered wildly as her fingers clawed the ground. Then, it was over; she slumped to the ground, limp and spent.
Zac took her once more in his arms and held her. His cheek rested near her lips, he felt her breath on his skin; it was low and labored.
Tears filled his eyes as he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “I’m sorry, Lea. I let you down, I’m sorry.”
“What a touching scene! No really, it’s like something out of Mills and Boon,” Dominic taunted.
Rage and hatred rose up in Zac like bile; he couldn’t control it — nor did he want to.
The hatred that welled up inside him was all consuming. Zac had never felt anything as intense before. The only way to abate the feeling would be by killing the man who taunted him.
Zac laid Lea down gently, then got to his feet; he turned to face Dominic.
He looked back at Zac, all his fear replaced by a sly grin.
“I can feel how much you hate me,” Dominic crooned. “I understand that feeling — you need to kill me. Go on then — kill me.”
Zac launched himself at Dominic, rage driving him blindly forward. He grabbed up the sword; in a few seconds he would have his head.
Dominic just stood, waiting for his attack. He was still smiling — Why?
Zac was still a few feet from Dominic when he felt something pierce the back of his leg, then another.
He stopped and looked down. Two tranquillizer darts protruded from his thigh. He looked in the direction of the shooter; Jane Sinclair stood holding his gun — Doc’s gun. It was set to tranquillizer.
She smiled and said, “Are you feeling sleepy yet? Maybe this will help.” She fired four more darts into his chest.
His head began to swim, but he needed to get to Dominic. He needed to kill him. He turned, but his legs felt like they were made of stone. Two more darts hit him in the back. He looked at Dominic — he was still smiling.
Zac felt himself dropping to his knees; Dominic strolled over and grabbed his hair, yanked his head up. His face went in and out of focus.
“Enjoy your sleep; I have big plans for you when you wake up.” Dominic released his grip and Zac’s face hit the ground with a thud.
* * *
Dominic looked over at Sinclair as she approached. He smiled. She still held the gun that had brought down his most valuable prey. Both looked down at the prostrate body, which lay at their feet.
“He’s quite impressive, isn’t he?” Sinclair said, as she eyed the unconscious man who had so nearly unraveled all her plans.
“Impressive? Yes I suppose he is. His regenerative abilities certainly are. If I can duplicate them in my subjects, then it would be a worthwhile upgrade to our product. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Sinclair nodded. “Yes it would be a very useful addition to their arsenal. By the way, the General is dead.”
Dominic was neither bothered nor concerned by the news. In fact, he was completely disinterested.
“Jane,” he said, “please contact the next client on the list and begin negotiations. In addition, I think we need to demonstrate more caution in the future. It may be time to activate the unit.”
Sinclair looked at him. “Are you expecting more trouble? After all, we have him now. There’s no one else who could possibly threaten you.”
“That may be the case, but I have made too many miscalculations when it comes to this man.” He looked at Zac’s prostrate form. “I intend to proceed with more caution in the future. Have him and the girl taken to the infirmary; keep them together, and keep him sedated until I tell you otherwise.”
Sinclair nodded and headed off to carry out his orders.
Dominic headed for his quarters to clean up and get some rest. He needed to consider his next step.
22
The chopper began to lift from the ground. Jacobson watched as the fight between Zac and Dominic began to unfold. He turned to Martinez, concerned for his friend on the ground. “Why doesn’t Zac kick his ass? We know he can.”
Martinez watched as Zac took a beating, then replied, “He’s doing it for us. He wants to make sure we’re safe before he retaliates. He’s taking that beating so we don’t have to.”
The two watched their friend as the chopper crept into the sky. Then, as they climbed higher and farther away, their comrade began to fight back.
“It’s ‘bout God damn time!” Jacobson shouted. He looked at Martinez and smiled.
“We need to figure out our next step,” Martinez said. “We need to get back in the game as soon as possible.” He knew he needed to refocus Jacobson. He also knew their wounds needed attention. If the wounds went un-cared for, the tropical heat could soon cause infection.
He turned to the pilot and said, “We need somewhere that has medical facilities, but also doesn’t ask too many questions. Do you know anywhere like that?”
“Sure, there’s a hospital not far from here. And as long as ya have the cash, they won’t be asking any difficult questions.
“First things first. What the fuck just happened down there?”
The young pilot had clearly been frightened, but now he seemed pissed.
Martinez thought for a while then replied, “Listen, I can’t tell you much, except this: the man you brought to the camp is extremely dangerous, and my government wants him stopped. If we don’t succeed, then he will become a threat not only to this region, but to the world. It is imperative we stop him.”
The young pilot looked at Martinez for a moment. “Me name’s Oscar, it’s important to know a bloke’s name if you’re gunna be working with him. I always had a feeling about that Dominic fella — he made me skin crawl. Now, I’m not saying I entirely believe ya, but the way I see it is — I don’t have much of a choice. So for the time being, I guess I’ll give ya both the benefit of the doubt. Fair enough? ”
“That sounds fair to me. I’m Special Agent Victor Martinez, and this is Captain James Jacobson.
“So, Oscar, what are you willing to do for us? For instance, what if we need you to drop us back to Dominic’s camp? Would you do that?”
Oscar pondered the question for a second or two. “Sure. Me old man taught me, ya never walk away from a fight. That prick has pissed me off, big time. I’d like nothing better than to see the shit kicked out of him.”
Martinez looked back at Jacobson and gave a reassured nod. “We may be back in the fight sooner rather than later; I hope Zac can hold out until then.”
Jacobson looked back towards the camp. “Yeah he’ll be okay. But, I don’t envy him.” He turned back to Martinez and continued, “We need to cut his radio out of our link. We have to assume it’s been compromised.”
Martinez nodded and then keyed his throat mike. “Martinez to Matt and Jason. Zac’s radio may have been compromised, switch to channel nine and set the encryption pattern to Martinez twelve-B.”
“Message received sir. We are changing
channels and encryption — now,” Matt replied.
The radios went to static as the four men reset their communication systems.
“You know, this means Zac is completely on his own now,” Jacobson said. “I hate leaving him hanging in the wind like this.”
Martinez nodded solemnly. “I know, James, but what choice do we have?”
“Jason to Martinez — how should Matt and I proceed?”
“You and Matt take up observation points around the compound. Give us all the intel you can. They’ll be looking for you both, so stay on your toes. If it gets too hot down there, pull out and wait for our return.”
“Roger that.”
A feeling of apprehension crept over Martinez. He knew the two young cousins were well trained and resourceful, but he also knew they were up against a dangerous and formidable foe. The tiny chopper hugged the top of the trees as it streaked towards the small bush hospital. The three traveled in silence.
After about thirty minutes, the small hospital came into view. It consisted of half a dozen small buildings that lay beside a small muddy river. People moved quickly between the buildings, obviously busy in their duties. The chopper headed towards a small opening at the rear of the buildings and began to descend.
“Here ya are, fellas, the hospital, Hoop en Genade. It means ‘Hope and Grace’. The hospital was built by the Belgian government back in the fifties, but it’s run by local doctors now. They don’t have a lot here, but they’re used to dealing with gunshot wounds.”
The chopper touched down on the small patch of dirt that doubled as the hospital’s helipad. A cloud of dust enveloped the small chopper as it came to a rest. Oscar cut the engine.
“Give it a minute to let the dust settle, then head to the largest building closest to the river. Ask for a Doctor Charles Annan. Tell him we’re mates, he’ll look after ya.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Martinez asked.
Oscar shook his head. “I need to refuel — I’ll meet up with ya both later. I’ll get us some food and drinks, and we can talk about our next move then. Catch ya later.”
With that, Oscar gave a quick wave and headed off towards a group of men, who were involved in an animated discussion. As Oscar approached the group, the men began to shout to him in their native tongue.