“Brilliant. There’s no stopping us now. Is there an office I can use in private to speak with my father?”
“My office is available.”
“Please lead on.”
Dimov suppressed a smile. His life’s work and ambition were about to be fulfilled. Watching Sandesh and Grace writhe in pain was a bonus, and one he planned to enjoy.
So far, all Mitchell had come across were some men fast asleep in their bunks, or some others getting ready to go on shift. His search of the fifth and fourth floors hadn’t revealed anything of value. Mitchell was about to take the stairs to the third level when a hand grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Hold on a minute,” said a man with an Irish accent.
Mitchell turned around and found himself looking into the green eyes of a man with short, curly red hair.
“Yes?” said Mitchell.
“I noticed you earlier on the fifth floor, and something about you bothered me,” said the red-headed man.
Mitchell steeled himself. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”
The man held up a black bag with a shoulder strap. “Where’s your respirator?”
“I lost it.”
“Good thing for you that it’s my job to ensure safety is followed around here.” The redhead handed over the bag. “You need to carry this with you at all times. You can’t be too careful around bioweapons.”
Mitchell took the respirator and slung it over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“How come you didn’t report your lost gas mask?”
“I’m new here and was unsure of who to report the loss to. It won’t happen again.”
“That explains why I didn’t recognize you. Keep that baby on you night and day. One whiff of Achlys, and you’ll regret the last few seconds of your miserable life.”
“Will do.”
Mitchell pretended to check out his new respirator while the man walked away. He opened the door, and started his way up to the third floor.
Dimov left Lena in his office to make her call, and decided to check in with the command center. He found the same two technicians on duty, scrolling through the images on the surveillance cameras. For a brief moment, something caught his eye. “Scroll back to the stairwell,” he ordered.
The tech brought up the picture from the stairs.
Dimov’s right eye twitched. He snapped his fingers in the air. A black guard with a scar down across his neck ran over. Dimov jammed his finger on the screen. “Do you see that man?”
“Yes, sir,” responded the mercenary.
“Take three men with you and arrest him. If he resists, kill him.”
The man nodded, spun around, and called more guards to join him.
Dimov’s breathing became heavy. If Mitchell was here, where was his partner?
Mitchell paused to read a sign on the wall. A smile crept across his lips when he saw the detention room was on this floor. He looked down the long corridor and spotted a man standing guard outside of a room. That had to be it, he thought. Mitchell drew his pistol and hid it behind his back. He walked down the hallway, feeling his heartbeat grow faster as he neared the room. Just behind him, the elevator chimed, and the doors slid open. Reflected in the glass were four men spilling out of the elevator.
Mitchell’s instincts kicked in. He spun around and brought up his pistol to fire. His finger wrapped around the trigger. All of a sudden, white lights flashed before his eyes, and his body convulsed in agony. The last thought he had before blacking out was, not again. Mitchell dropped like a sack of potatoes to the floor.
“Well done, Michael,” said the black man to the guard who had been standing outside of the detention room. In the mercenary’s hand was a Taser. The smell of electricity hung in the air.
“Thank you, sir,” replied the guard. He tapped the small comms device in his ear. “And thanks for the heads-up that he was coming.”
The black man pointed at Mitchell. One of his men handcuffed him, while another covered him with his machine pistol. Together they hauled Mitchell to his feet. The mercenaries manhandled Mitchell into the elevator and took him to the command center. By the time he arrived, Mitchell had control of his legs back. His head still felt as if a swarm of hornets was flying around, stinging every inch of his skull.
Dimov strolled out of the command center and shook his head. “For a dead man, you have an annoying habit of reappearing where you’re not wanted.”
“Sorry to spoil your day,” replied Mitchell.
“Not to worry. Yours isn’t going to last much longer. If you’re here, where is Mister Jackson?”
Mitchell shrugged. “I haven’t seen him in hours.”
“You two are inseparable.” Dimov looked over at the black mercenary. “Robert, have the security detachments search the installation and the camp. I suspect Jackson’s somewhere nearby.”
Robert nodded and went to pass the orders.
“As for you,” said Dimov to Mitchell, “I think it would be wise to lock you up with the other prisoners.”
“Wait one moment,” said Lena, as she walked toward them. She stopped, put her hands on her hips, and studied Mitchell’s face. “I know you. You’re the man who tracked down and killed David Houston.”
“I cannot tell a lie. Yes, that was me,” he replied.
“A business rival, but still a man to be admired,” said Lena, reverently. “I always imagined you to be taller and more handsome.”
Mitchell chuckled. “What you see, lady, is what you get.”
She looked deep into his blue-gray eyes. “What a shame that you aren’t on our side.”
“What side would that be, psychopaths anonymous?”
“Such a limited imagination. Oh well, I guess he’ll have to be dealt with along with the others.”
Dimov stepped forward. “I can have a room ready to go in ten minutes.”
“Not yet,” said Lena. “My father wants to watch the experiment. Lock him up, and we’ll stream their executions live to my father and his colleagues in an hour.”
“I’ll make sure the room is ready to go.” He turned to face one of the men holding Mitchell. “Take him below, and bring me Mister Sandesh.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the man.
“Until later.” Dimov clenched his right fist and sent it flying into Mitchell’s stomach, doubling him over.
Pained wracked Mitchell’s midsection. He fought to catch his breath. Black spots filled his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged toward the elevator. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Dimov smiling at his discomfort. Mitchell struggled to get his feet back underneath of him, as he was thrust into the elevator. Images came and quickly faded away in his mind. He heard some men talking, and then his cuffs were unlocked and he was shoved into a room. Mitchell tripped over his feet and landed face first on the floor.
His vision blurred. He heard Sandesh pleading for his life as he was hauled from the room. Blackness swept over his mind, and then Mitchell was out.
57
“Let go of me!” yelled Sandesh, digging his heels into the smooth floor, desperate to avoid his coming fate. The men with him ignored his pleas, and shoved him into Dimov’s office before removing his cuffs.
Dimov stood from behind his desk. “Varun, you look awful. I hope my men are treating you well.”
“Screw you and your insincere concern for me.”
Dimov tutted. “Please take a seat, and let us discuss what has to happen next like gentlemen.”
Sandesh straightened out his rumpled shirt and ran a hand through his hair. “I’d rather stand, thank you.”
“Have it your way.” Dimov picked up a small tablet from his desk and turned it on. “I take it you recognize what this is?”
“It’s a retinal eye scanner.”
“Very good. Now all I need you to do is scan your right eye, and you are free to join the others back in the cell.”
“What are you trying to do, Dimov?”
“Once you scan your eye, you will be giving me control over this facility and the means of production anywhere inside your family’s considerable corporate empire. Well, not actually me. I’ve set up a shell corporation with your name on it. If this operation begins to fall apart it’ll be your name, not mine, on everything.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll take a pen and gouge your eye out and use it to get what I want.”
Varun’s mouth turned dry. He didn’t want to do what Dimov was asking, and he didn’t want to lose an eye. “You’re a monster.”
Dimov held up a pen. “What I am is irrelevant. Now, what shall it be? The scanner or my pen?”
“Give me the scanner,” snapped Sandesh.
Dimov slid the device over. “Good man.”
Sandesh held up the scanner and waited for it to take a picture of his retina. He tossed the device back to Dimov. “God will get you for what you’re about to do.”
Dimov chortled. “This was your plan. All I did was steal it out from under you. Hell, your blessed safeguards will be taking off from Mandalay airport in about thirty minutes. No matter what you tell yourself, your hands are far from clean. You’re a billionaire hypocrite and nothing more.”
Sandesh felt Dimov’s words cut through his skin. The man was right. He was far from a victim. It was his hubris that had set this nightmare in motion.
Dimov waved a hand in the air. “Take this man back below with the others.”
Two men grabbed Sandesh by the arms and hauled them behind his back. With a click, a set of cuffs secured his wrists tight together. The men spun him around and marched him back to the elevator.
Pain. His entire world was enveloped in agony. Mitchell rolled over and forced himself to sit up.
“Long time, no see,” said Grace, waving to him from her bed.
“Water,” croaked Mitchell.
Grace filled a cup from the sink in their room and handed it to him. “So, where’s the rest of the cavalry?” she asked.
“Is this place bugged?” whispered Mitchell.
Grace pointed to a camera on the wall. “Smile; you’re on Candid Camera.”
“Great,” he muttered. Mitchell sipped his water and climbed up into a chair. His heart dropped when he spotted Sam, tied to her bed, fast asleep.
“It’s okay,” said Grace. “She’s only sleeping. They drugged her to stop her from attacking the guards.”
Mitchel grinned. “That’s my Sam. As for your earlier question, I’m it, and I’m sorry to say that my attempt to rescue all of you has ended in failure.”
“Could be worse. You could be dead.”
“Hold that thought. Our hosts are going to try their experimental bioweapon on us in about an hour.”
“Figures. I take it a stand-up fight with them is out of the question?”
“For now it is.”
The door slid open, and Sandesh was roughly tossed inside. He stumbled over a chair and fell to the ground.
Grace helped him to his feet. His face was pale. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Everything,” he replied. “I’ve screwed up so badly there’s nothing I will ever be able to do to make things right.”
Mitchell got to his feet. “That may be true, but I want you to tell Grace and me everything you know about this place, what is going on, and what Dimov plans to do.”
“What about the camera?” asked Sandesh.
“It’s the least of our problems,” said Mitchell. “We’ve got less than an hour, so spill your guts.”
“That’s it, we’re all fueled up and ready to go!” yelled Yuri.
“Is it time, Mister Jackson?” asked General Saya, extinguishing his cigar under the heel of his boot.
“Yup,” he replied. “Have your men climb aboard the choppers.”
Saya nodded at a teenage boy with a bugle in his hand. The boy brought the instrument to his lips and blared out a tune. Men spread all across the field stopped what they were doing and ran to their choppers. They formed up under their section leaders and boarded the helicopters in an orderly fashion, impressing Jackson. The two sapper squads assigned to Dawn and Jackson climbed into the second chopper and sat at the back, so they could be the first out when they landed.
Cardinal patted Jackson on the back. “See you on the objective.”
“You too,” replied Jackson.
“I expect to see Sam when I get there, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I’m sure Ryan will have her there with a bow on her head. Now get to your chopper, mister.”
Cardinal gave Jackson a mock salute, and jogged off to join Yuri in the lead helicopter.
“Shall we?” said Saya to Jackson.
“Why not,” he replied. Along with the teenage bugler, the two men boarded the second helicopter in line and took seats near the back. Jackson placed a headset over his ears and keyed the mic. “Whenever you’re ready, pass the word to Yuri to get this show on the road.”
“Da,” replied the pilot.
The back doors closed as the helicopter’s engines increased power. The chopper lifted a few meters off the ground and then began to pick up speed as it followed Yuri’s helicopter away from the landing strip and out toward the jungle.
Jackson squeezed his weapon’s forestock tight in his hands. It was going to be tight. An hour on the ground may have seemed a lot to some people, but he recalled a couple of daylong firefights in Afghanistan in which only a few meters were taken from the enemy. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for Ryan and Sam. Rescuing Grace and Sandesh were secondary to him. His friends came first. Now and always.
58
“It’s time,” said Dimov, looking up at a clock on the wall. “Have the prisoners brought to the second floor, and locked in the bioweapons test room.”
Robert nodded and waved three men to his side.
“I take it you’ll be able to stream what is happening in the test facility via your control center?” said Lena.
Dimov turned his laptop so his guest could see. On the screen was an empty room. “Your father and all of his colleagues will get a front row seat at the birth of a new economic world power.”
Lena clasped her hands together. “I can’t wait.”
There was a knock at the door. A man carrying a silver tray with a bottle of champagne on it stood there.
“Come in,” said Dimov. “Leave the tray on my table, and please leave us.”
The man did as he was told and left quietly.
“What’s this?” asked Lena.
“I thought we could celebrate our success once the test is over.”
Lena smiled. “Why not?”
Dimov pulled out a chair for Lena and popped open the champagne. He poured two glasses and handed one to Lena. “To a new future,” toasted Dimov.
“To a new future,” repeated Lena, toasting Dimov with her crystal flute.
“See you in a few minutes,” said Yuri, in Jackson’s headset.
“Good hunting,” he replied. Jackson stood, looked out of the small, porthole-style window on the side of the chopper, and watched Yuri’s helicopter bank away from the remainder of the assault force. He tapped Saya on the shoulder and held up his hand with his fingers spread apart, letting the general know they were five minutes out from the camp.
Saya rose and yelled out in Burmese to his men.
All through the crew compartment, the rebel soldiers jammed magazines home in their AKs and loaded a round in the chambers of their weapons.
“Mister Jackson, these are my men,” said Saya. “As such, I, not you, will be the first man off the helicopter.”
“Not a problem.” Jackson gave him begrudging respect. Saya may have been a lazy man, but he wasn’t afraid to take risks.
The hair on Mitchell’s neck went up the moment he heard voices on the other side of the door. He rushed to his feet and looked around for something to use as a weapon.
The door slid open. A man with a machine pist
ol tight in his shoulder took aim at Mitchell’s head.
“I want you to come out one by one into the hallway, starting with Mitchell,” ordered Robert.
“And if I don’t want to?” replied Mitchell.
“Then my man will blow your brains all over the wall.”
“Wow, gassed or shot; such a dilemma.”
“Move now, or I’ll personally kill the Asian woman.”
Mitchell knew he’d stalled as long as he could. “Okay, I’m coming out.”
“Hands up,” snarled the man with the machine pistol.
Mitchell raised his hands and walked into the hallway. In a flash, two guards grabbed hold of his arms and yanked them down behind his back. A set of cuffs were snapped in place.
“Face the wall,” ordered Robert.
Mitchell took a deep breath before turning to face the wall. White-hot anger surged through Mitchell’s body. If he got the chance, he was going to kill the head guard, no matter the consequences.
The next person brought out was Grace, followed by Sandesh.
“Get the Asian woman,” said Robert to one of his more broad-shouldered men.
The man nodded and slung his weapon over his back. He drew his knife, walked over to Sam’s bed, and cut the rope holding her feet down. Next, he cut through the bindings on her hands. The man reached down to pick her up, when her eyes suddenly shot open.
Like a trap springing into action, Sam balled up her right fist and shot it into the guard’s larynx, crushing it. The man instantly reached up for his shattered windpipe. Sam swung her legs over and wrapped them around the doomed man’s waist and twisted her hips, sending him to the floor and bringing her up with him. Without stopping, Sam ripped the man’s weapon from his back, aimed it at the nearest guard and pulled the trigger. The shocked man staggered back with a bloody chest.
Eternal Night Page 27