by Jaspre Bark
"We need weapons to fight our way out," said a shorter, stockier Native American, who appeared to be second in command. "Do you know where we can get some?"
"Well now," said a deep, Mid-Western voice from one of the pens. "I believe I can help you there."
Colt had his face pressed up against the hatch. Two men he'd never seen before had let the redskins loose. They were talking about escape and he wanted in.
"See while they put you fellers under they had to distract us," said Colt. "They was so cocksure they actually gave us a tour of the place. I know exactly where we can get all the weapons we need."
"We?" said Hiamovi, looking at Colt. "There is no 'we' here Mr Colt. Why would I release my greatest enemy?"
"Way I see it," said Colt. "You ain't got no choice. The seven of you aren't gonna fight your way outta here with your dicks in your hand. You're gonna need fire-power and you're gonna need more muscle. I can supply you with both."
"Tom?" Fitch called out from a pen next to Colt's. "Hey is that you Tom. C'mon Tom, for old time's sake let us loose."
"You know these men?" said Hiamovi to the brave next to him.
"My name is Ahiga. Be sure and use it."
"Sure To... I mean Ahiga," said Fitch. "Anything you say. Just get us out of these cages. We can help each other, right?"
"Great Chief," said Ahiga to Hiamovi. "This is one of the men I spoke to you about. The ones I used to run with."
"These are your contacts in the Neo-Clergy, the ones you colluded with?"
"These men have been of some service to you. I'm not saying I can vouch for them, but I have worked with them. Maybe they can be of some use."
The sneaky Injun was planning something, Colt could tell.
So could Hiamovi. "We are about to go to war with these people. They have already murdered and enslaved hundreds of our brothers and sisters. Why would I want to set him free to lead his army against ours when I have him safely locked away?"
"Because we've been in this together since day one," said Colt. "We've been working with each other every step of the way. You've needed a bogeyman to scare your people into submission and so have I. We've played that part to perfection for each other. We've been playing the same tune and dancing the same steps, right down the line. You wouldn't have come to power without the threat I pose your people. And hey, I'm a big enough man to admit you've helped put me where I am. Like it or not, we need each other. We're perfect together."
Colt was finally putting his newfound compassion to good use. It wasn't choking him, it was helping get what he wanted, allowing him to feel and think like his enemy, so he could use it to his own benefit. "Now I want to get back to my troops as much as you do. I want to make sure they're safe and ready to fight just like you. The best way for us to do that is to help each other, just like we been doing from the start. Doesn't mean I want to get all lovey-dovey and start burying the hatchet. But we've got a common enemy and that means we've got a common goal. Like they say, 'you keep your friends close but you keep your enemies closer.' Are you sure you want to leave me all the way down here where you've got no idea what I'm up to?"
The big wetback called Cortez pulled the keys out of his pocket. "This is the situation," he said. "I need to free my friend. She holds the key to controlling the Doomsday Virus. She's the only person that does. That's why our common enemy, the scientists, have her. My friend with the glasses here has memorised the blue prints to every floor in the complex..."
"There are nine," said Greaves. "Ten if you count the generator's sub basement."
"Thank you," said Cortez. "There's nearly forty armed men in the place..."
"Forty-two to be exact."
Cortez placed a hand on Greaves shoulder to stop him interrupting again. "If we're going to have to shoot our way out we're going to need as many men as we can get." Cortez turned to Colt. He was a powerful looking man, Colt would give him that. "I need to know that if I freed you and your men you'd fight alongside us, not go off on your own or try and attack us while we're in here."
"I'm not going to let you free these men," said Hiamovi. "I thought I already made that clear."
"With respect Great Chief," said Cortez. "I may not control an army but we're holding the keys to the cells, no-one else here knows how to get around the place and we're the only people who know how to get the Doomsday Virus out of here. We're the ones who set the terms of this escape."
"How do I know you're not planning to double cross us once you get the virus?" said Hiamovi.
"Of course we're planning to double cross you," said Greaves. "Just as you're already thinking of ways to double cross both Colt and us, and Colt here is dreaming up ways to get one over the rest of us. That doesn't matter. What's important is that none of those plans will come to anything unless we all agree to work together right now to get out of here."
"He's got a point Hiamovi," said Colt. "I don't like him anymore than you do, but you can't argue with the little runt."
Cortez looked Hiamovi in the eye. "Agreed?"
Hiamovi nodded.
Cortez met Colt's gaze.
"I got no argument," said Colt. "I want to get out of here and get some payback."
His anger had fused with his compassion turning it into a fierce protectiveness. He felt protective of the men in his command and of his faith. He was ready to kill to see they came to no harm.
Cortez unlocked Colt's pen and offered Colt his hand to help him up. The two sized each other up as Colt got to his feet. Be careful of this man, Colt thought. Better to have him on your side when it counted.
As Cortez freed Colt's men they squared off against Hiamovi and his braves. Neither side took their eye off the other for a second. Hiamovi and Colt had been bitter enemies since each began their rise to power. This was the first time they'd met face to face. Not as opponents, but allies in a desperate bid for freedom. Fighting side by side to escape and go back to their war.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Fitch still had a stinking headache when he reached the bottom of the stairs. The little faggot with the glasses was seriously pissing him off and as soon as Fitch got a gun, that little fucker better not turn his back on him.
He'd led them all over the complex, hiding round corners waiting for cameras to go off. Then they doubled back on themselves and headed for a stairwell they'd already passed. And the faggot Greaves comes on all superior like that's what he'd planned the whole time. Acting like his college education meant the rest of them ought to kneel and kiss his heiny. Fitch was going to put his fist up it in a minute.
He was still groggy from that pollen shit that had knocked him out. His head throbbed and his guts wanted to puke, only he wasn't going to let them. Fitch hoped they'd get into this armoury soon, because someone had to die for the way he was feeling.
At the top of the stairs Greaves started whining about the door to the armoury being an exit only door with the lock on the inside. "I didn't anticipate this from the blueprints," he said. "What we need to do is punch a hole..."
Fitch stepped up to the door and pushed him aside. "One side Einstein," he said, then he caught a whiff of the runt. "Jesus you stink!"
When the big, bearded wetback started to get up in his face, Fitch knew he was outclassed. He held his hands up. "Listen. I got no beef with you. But while Joe College here was getting his ass kicked by frat boys, I was getting my education in jacking Seven-Elevens. This is my area of speciality."
Fitch took in the door. It was heavy and there were no locks, or handles showing. "We need to jimmy it," he said. He looked around and saw the metal spindles on the stairwell. One good kick and they'd come free. He nodded to Golding to join him and they tore three loose.
"You wanna give us a hand Tom?" Fitch said, then realised his mistake. "I mean Ahiga. This is a three man operation you know that?"
Tom looked over at his Chief, who nodded and them helped them ram the spindles into the door jamb between the hinges. They leant on the spindles an
d popped the hinges out of the jamb.
The three of them busting a back door to jack some stuff was just like back in the day with 57th Street bangers. Everyone in Boulder knew about them. They ran Lomont. Tom joined them straight out of reform school where he'd met Golding. Golding and Fitch grew up on the same block. The three of them were the meanest mother-fuckers their age and they were on their way up in the gang.
At one point Tom had looked to take over as leader. Fitch and Golding had put a stop to that after they'd discovered Tom's little secret. He'd have been dead if word got out. But instead of slipping a noose round his neck they put a leash on him. Turned him into their bitch. The Cull came down pretty soon after that and Tom had drifted back to his own folks and became Ahiga. Fitch and Golding went into the Neo-Clergy.
Cortez was first through the door. Fitch and Golding followed. They entered a side room filled with metal shelves and boxes. There were pegs all over the walls with stuff like flak jackets, gas masks and bullet proof vests hanging from them.
Fitch walked past a shelf and saw a guard with a clipboard. He had earphones in so he wouldn't have heard them come in, but he looked up and saw Fitch. Before either of them reacted Cortez was right behind the man, grabbing his head and wrenching it round. Fitch heard the man's spinal column snap with a crunch of vertebrae. He was blown away. Cortez was quick and lethal.
Greaves bent down and picked up the clipboard. "It's an inventory. The guns are in the next room."
Cortez was careful to make no sound as he stepped into the room. A huge cache of firearms were on display. He heard the sound of voices coming from behind one of the racks.
Cortez signalled to Fitch and Golding to be quiet and get out of sight.
"So Burns tells him if he's late again he'll be on permanent latrine duty," said a guard, stepping into sight.
"He's such a jerk off," said the guard next to him. "They should clean the latrines with his face. Have we done grenades yet?"
"I don't think so."
Cortez found a row of belts, each with a knife and a sheath on it. He took one knife and tossed it to Fitch then removed another for himself. He signalled to Fitch and Golding to go down to the far end of the racks and to come up on the left hand guard from behind.
Cortez went the opposite way and came around the other end of the racks. As he glanced into the aisle where the guards were he heard a clatter from the other end of the room. Fitch or Golding must have knocked something over. The two guards turned to see and Cortez took advantage of their distraction.
He came up on the second guard from behind, placing a hand over the man's mouth Then he brought the knife round and rammed it into his heart. Blood gushed out in warm spurts, spilling down Cortez's hand as he gripped the knife.
The first guard dropped his clipboard and backed away down the aisle, fumbling for his weapon. Golding grabbed him from behind and held his arms while Fitch stuck his knife into the man's guts. He pulled it out and stabbed him twice more.
The guard broke free from Golding screaming in pain as blood poured from his wounds. Catching hold of the guard again Golding put a hand over the man's mouth as Fitch stuck him repeatedly with his knife.
Cortez heard footsteps approaching on the opposite side of the room and, as another guard entered, he brought the knife down on the top of the man's head, ramming it through his skull.
The guard stepped back staring at Cortez with anger and shock. His eyes rolled back into his skull and a thin trickle of blood ran down his face.
Cortez was about to step over the body when a bullet whistled past his ear and clipped the wall next to him. He dived out of sight and dragged the body of the guard towards him. Cortez pulled the man's pistol out of his holster. He leaned round the doorway and let off a shot into the office beyond.
Several more shots tore through the doorway hitting the walls and the floor and, from what Cortez could see, there were two more guards in what looked like a front office.
Cortez turned to see Fitch and Golding loading three pump-action shotguns. Colt and Hiamovi were coming up the centre aisle. Cortez raised a hand to caution them and they stopped.
Fitch threw Cortez a shotgun. Cortez lifted the dead guard's body into the doorway to use as cover and draw the other guards' fire. Four or five bullets thudded into the corpse. Cortez could see that one guard was using a desk as cover. He got a bead on the man's position and squeezed the trigger.
The round blew a huge hole in the desk. There was a scream of pain. Fitch, Golding and Cortez counted silently down from three before entering the room and letting off a barrage of gunfire.
The desk was blown apart along with the body of the guard behind it. The last guard made a bolt for the exit. Fitch caught him with a blast to the shoulder that threw him against the door. Cortez and Golding opened up, tearing chunks out of him.
Cortez checked the front office. There were no more guards, but the gun shots would surely have alerted the others. He needed Greaves and his smarts to lock the place the down and get them a way out.
Greaves was out in the main armoury watching the escapees drool over the weaponry on display. They were helping themselves to whatever they could carry, discarding one weapon as soon as they saw a better one.
His heart sank as soon as shots were traded. The noise was deafening. It would bring half the guards in the complex down on them. They had to secure the armoury, then find a way out.
Greaves moved to the exit at the other end of the room. It was electronically activated and it opened onto stairs leading to the officer's quarters. The keypad was on the other side of the door. There was no way Greaves could disable it.
He turned and called to one of the Native Americans who was helping himself to ammunition. "Quick. You've got to shoot at this wall. Right there where I'm pointing." The brave did nothing but stare at him suspiciously.
"There's an electronic lock on the other side of this wall. This leads to the officer's quarters. Any minute now guards are going to be swarming out of it. We have to take out the lock."
The brave turned to look at Hiamovi who nodded and the brave fired three shots into the wall.
Greaves jumped out of the way as chunks of plaster and dust flew. The third shot hit its target and sparks leapt out of the hole.
Cortez put a hand on Greaves' shoulder. "We need to secure the entrance to the front office."
Once in the office Greaves found the control console and activated the security shutters. Reinforced steel slammed down over the doors.
There were shots from the stairwell outside. When they got there they saw that Colt and his henchman, Simon Peter, were at the door. "They tried to get in by the stairs," Colt said. "We put a stop to that."
"Is there another exit out of here?" Cortez asked Greaves.
"Yes. There's another door on the opposite side that leads to a different stairwell, but they'll be trying that one as well now. We've got to barricade both doors."
"No shit," said Colt. "But that won't hold 'em long. I thought you were the one that who had everything planned out. Least ways that's how you act. Now it's all falling apart, where's this brilliant plan of yours?"
Greaves didn't have an answer. He always had an answer. Something always came to him. But nothing came now. He felt himself start to buckle under the pressure. He was close to physical collapse from illness and infection. He hadn't eaten or slept properly in weeks. He was starting to get palpitations. It was just like his breakdown. He felt events spiralling out of his control. They were looming over and threatening to crush him. No, he was stronger than last time, older and wiser. He thought of Cortez who overcame everything that was put in his way. Be like that, Greaves told himself. Be like Cortez.
It was all Sinnot's fault that he was feeling this way. He was the one who had dragged up Greaves' past. There had been so much pressure on him from such an early age, so many expectations and so many great things he was supposed to have done by now. As Sinnot had said, so much wasted potentia
l.
Greaves could have been anything but he ended up a lab assistant. And Sinnot had cheated him out of his last chance to be something worthwhile, to live up to all that incredible early potential. To redeem himself.
That's what he was in search of when he found Anna - redemption. To make up for all that lost promise he would rescue the remnants of humanity from their own stupidity.
Sinnot and his idiot colleagues had no idea what they actually had in the Doomsday Virus. They hadn't the foresight or the imagination to see. All they wanted was to hand it over to their paymasters so they could go on running the world in the same stupid and brutal way they always had.
Greaves was so close, but it was all getting too difficult. Too many things kept going wrong. He started to hyperventilate. He reached into one of his pockets for a paper bag to breath into. He could see the men around him smirk. They were no better than the jocks from high school who laughed at the prepubescent maths whiz who had to do gym with them along with his other lessons.
As they moved one of the shelves in front of the doorway, a box of night-vision goggles fell off it.
"I've got it," Greaves said. "We kill the lights and use these goggles. They won't see us but we'll be able to see them."
"How are we going to do that?" Colt said.
"We'll take out the fuse box on this floor to begin with."
"That's no good," said Fitch. "They'll just wait till we go up to the next floor where there is light."
"That's just to buy us enough time to get out of here before the explosion," Greaves said.
"What explosion?" Colt said.
"Here's the clever bit. In the far room is where they keep all the high explosive. This room and the main one are right over the generator in the sub-basement. If we set enough explosive in these two rooms, we'll take out the floors above and below. We'll also destroy the generator and kill the power to the whole complex, while taking out the guards in the barracks above us at the same time. Those that are left won't be able to see and they won't be able to re-arm themselves because we'll have totalled the armoury. What's more, once power is down all the freezing equipment that's keeping the biological weaponry safe won't work. We'll have just enough time to get out before the place becomes infected. Everyone else will be too busy evacuating to avoid infection, to stop us taking the Doomsday Virus."