The Collected jq-6

by Brett Battles

When he got back to his room, he’d gather the cash he’d been stashing away and put it in a bag by the door, easy to grab. It was nothing compared to the amount he was due, but it would hold him over for a while.

  I won’t need it, though. It’s just in case. Everything is going to be fine.

  He headed toward his room, his pace quicker than normal. As he neared his door, he saw two soldiers farther down the hall, walking away.

  “You, there,” he called out.

  The soldiers kept going.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  They finally stopped and one of them turned.

  “Tell your commander that I’ll be in my room and am to be notified the moment the fugitive is brought in.”

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier said.

  Once inside his suite, Harris poured himself another whiskey, this time savoring it as it went down.

  To surviving, he thought. One way or another.

  CHAPTER 58

  A quick search of the room at the base of the wall revealed a separate storage area filled with extra gear for the soldiers.

  The men each donned one of the spare uniforms. None was small enough for Orlando.

  “You two stay here while Daeng and I do a recon,” Quinn told Orlando and Nate.

  “You don’t know the place. I do,” Nate said. “I should go.”

  “I’m guessing you’re a pretty hot commodity around here right now. As much as I’d like you to come, best if you stay under wraps as long as possible.”

  “Don’t you dare cut me out,” Nate said.

  “Not cutting you out. Just making the smart play.”

  Nate locked eyes with him for a moment before he reluctantly nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay for now.”

  Daeng’s Asian features would be impossible for anyone to miss if they got too close. But at a distance and with the bill of his cap pulled down far enough, his dark skin and black hair would actually be an asset.

  They took a stone stairwell up to a hallway on the next level, and, after a few minutes, located the hallway with the rooms where Nate and the others had been held. Since there were no guards around, it seemed a pretty good guess that the prisoners weren’t around either.

  Just to be sure, Quinn made a quick trip down the block, while Daeng stood guard outside, and checked the cells. Though it was obvious they were being used, all were empty.

  Quinn and Daeng followed Nate’s directions on how to get from there to the courtyard. A few times, they heard footsteps down intersecting halls but had yet to cross paths with anyone.

  Upon reaching the courtyard door, Quinn eased it back a few inches and peered out. He realized why they hadn’t seen anyone else. Most everyone who was still in the fort was in the courtyard. He could see a portion of the top of the wall. There were three soldiers spread out along it, and in the actual courtyard were four more. There was also a big blond guy sitting in a chair, soaking up the sun. He had to be Janus.

  “Watch out for him,” Nate had said as he briefed them. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

  The most shocking sight was the four figures with black bags over their heads. They were dangling in the air by arms hooked to chains. Their backs were the worst part. They were even more chewed up than Nate’s. It was clear from the blood dripping down that they’d just been whipped again.

  Peter, Lanier, Berkeley, and Curson.

  Quinn watched each man for a moment to be sure they were all still breathing, then moved to the side and let Daeng take a look. When the Thai man was done, they shut the door.

  “Back downstairs,” Quinn whispered. “We need the others.”

  On the way back to the stairs, they made a wrong turn and ended up in a hallway they hadn’t been in before. Realizing their mistake, they turned around and started back they way they’d come. A moment after they made the U-turn, they heard a door open. Footsteps in the hallway behind them.

  There was a part of Quinn that wanted to pick up the pace and get out of there as quickly as they could, but he knew doing so would bring unwanted attention, so they continued on at a purposeful, but non-rushed pace.

  “You, there,” the man behind them yelled.

  They kept moving, pretending like they hadn’t heard.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  “Stop,” Quinn whispered. “But only I will turn.”

  Quinn faced the man who’d called them. He had expected the speaker to be another soldier, but instead he was looking at Harris, the bald former mercenary himself. Quinn kept his expression neutral.

  “Tell your commander that I’ll be in my room and am to be notified the moment the fugitive is brought in.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quinn replied.

  Harris opened a nearby door and passed inside. Quinn marked the location in his mind, and told Daeng who he’d just seen.

  “If Harris is here,” Daeng said, “then Romero’s got to be somewhere nearby, right?”

  “One would think so.”

  “When they brought us back, Janus and one of the guards would come into the cell with me,” Nate said. “I couldn’t see what was going on with the others, but it sounded like the same thing.”

  Nate told them that so far, after every torture session, they would leave the prisoners outside for a while before taking them back to their cells to await the next event. That was good. Quinn had been worried they would just be left in the courtyard. Making an assault there would have been a quick way to get one or most of the prisoners and themselves killed. The guards on the wall would quickly pick everyone off before Quinn and the rest had a chance to do much of anything.

  When they finally settled on a solution they all thought would work, Quinn said, “From this point forward, if someone’s in your way, kill them. Understood?”

  It wasn’t a hard sell. Though none of their job descriptions was that of professional killer, they had all killed before. Given what had been happening at Fort Duran, none of them would take issue with doing so again.

  They checked their comm-gear, got into their positions, and waited.

  The pounding of feet echoed down the hallway, signaling the imminent arrival of the prisoners back to their cellblock.

  “Daeng, are they to you yet?” he said into the radio.

  Daeng was in a room down the hall with the door open but lights off. His would be the first position they passed.

  “Seconds away,” Daeng whispered.

  Quinn and Orlando were in the same hallway, but on the other side of the door to the cellblock, hidden by the curve of the corridor. Nate was in the cellblock itself, at the far end, tucked around the elbow turn of the hall he’d used to escape.

  There was a click over the radio-Daeng letting them know the soldiers and prisoners were outside his door. A few seconds later, he whispered, “Four guards and that big blond.”

  “Copy,” Quinn replied.

  “Copy,” Nate chimed in.

  The footsteps kept coming, until it almost seemed as if they would pass the cellblock entrance and head right around the curve of the hall to where Quinn and Orlando waited. But then, not quite in perfect synchronization, the prisoner detail stopped.

  The door to the other hallway opened with a creak, and the ragtag march started up again as the prisoners were led inside. As soon as the door closed, Quinn and Orlando came around the corner and stepped over to it. Daeng joined them a few seconds later.

  “In position,” Quinn said into his mic.

  A single click from Nate. Message received.

  Quinn grabbed the door handle, ready to pull the door open as soon as Nate gave them the two clicks that meant go.

  Nate stood as close to the corner as he could possibly get, waiting for the preplanned moment. It wasn’t hard to imagine what was going on. In front of every cell, a soldier-and-prisoner pair stood waiting until Janus deemed it was their turn to go in.

  A door opened, then three sets of steps-Janus, a guard, and a prisoner. As they passed into the cell, t
he sounds of their movements diminished.

  Janus’s voice drifted down to him. “Do not get too comfortable. You will not be here long.” This was followed by a laugh, and the sound of Janus and the guard exiting the cell and closing the door.

  One down.

  Nate continued to listen as the second prisoner and then the third were put back in their rooms.

  When the door to the third cell shut, he clicked his radio once. Be ready.

  The fourth cell opened. Janus and one of the guards took the last prisoner inside.

  Click-click.

  As soon as the message was sent, he stepped out to where he could be seen. “Hey, I hear you’re looking for me.”

  Quinn counted off five seconds after the double click before he pulled the door open as quietly as he could.

  “…looking for me.”

  As expected, the three guards in the hallway had all turned in Nate’s direction and were not paying attention to the door. Quinn, Orlando, and Daeng moved inside and spread out.

  The guards, all eyes still on their escaped prisoner, began unslinging their rifles.

  Quinn’s target was the farthest guard, Orlando’s the middle, Daeng’s the nearest. Within a second and a half, they each pulled their triggers. Like dominos, all three guards fell to the ground, dead.

  The open cell was the one nearest Quinn and the others. The guard who’d been inside stepped out to see what was going on. A bullet to the forehead from Quinn’s gun sent him crashing back inside.

  Nate jogged down the hall, stopping fifteen feet on the other side of the open door. “Janus! Come out!”

  A scuffling of feet, then nothing.

  “Janus!” Nate yelled again. “Give it up. Come on out. This is done.”

  “Nothing is done. I think you will let me go.”

  “You think wrong.”

  A laugh, then Janus appeared in the doorway. But he wasn’t alone. He had Peter in his arms, and was holding him high enough to protect his own head and chest.

  Peter grimaced. “Just shoot him.”

  Janus peeked around Peter at Nate. “Well, Quinn, you are pretty good. You bring help?”

  “Put him down,” Nate said.

  “Go over with your friends or I break his neck. You know I can.”

  “I don’t care if you hit me,” Peter said. “Shoot him!”

  No one pulled the trigger. Peter was-if not quite a friend-someone who’d been an important part of their lives for a long time. They weren’t about to shoot at him if they could help it.

  Quinn motioned for his old apprentice to join them. As soon as Nate did, Janus eased out of the room, turning to keep Peter between them and him at all times.

  Quinn searched for a shot, anything that might disable Janus and allow them to get Peter free, but Peter was unintentionally doing a pretty damn good job of shielding the other man. Quinn might be able to shoot Janus in the foot, but it was iffy at best.

  Janus started backing down the hallway in the direction Nate had been hiding. Nate took a step forward to follow.

  “Don’t,” Janus said. “I will kill him.”

  “Kill him and we’ll kill you,” Nate said.

  “Peter here will still be dead, and I might still get away.”

  Janus took another step back. This time Nate didn’t move.

  “Good boy,” Janus said, not stopping.

  “Shoot him!” Peter yelled.

  Janus momentarily freed up a hand and punched the former head of the Office in the face. There were no more outbursts.

  “What’s going on?” Lanier called from his cell.

  “Yeah,” Berkeley said. “What’s happening out there? Are you here to get us out?”

  “Everyone shut up,” Quinn said.

  “Come on, man,” Berkeley said. “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is that we’re going to leave you here if you say another word.”

  Janus had reached the turn in the hall. “Don’t follow me,” he ordered, and then disappeared.

  Quinn and Nate immediately ran after him. As they neared the corner, they heard a grunt and a thud. Then running feet, heavy and fast.

  They sprinted the rest of the way to the end, and whipped around the corner, their guns ready.

  Peter lay motionless on the ground about halfway between the corner and the far door, but Janus was gone. They raced over and knelt down. Quinn checked Peter’s pulse.

  “He’s alive,” he said.

  Nate glanced at the hallway beyond them. “Janus can get to the top of the wall that way. If he does, he’ll warn everyone. That could be a problem.” He stood up. “I’m going after him.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  With a nod, Nate took off.

  Quinn put Peter over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, lugged him back to the others, and transferred him to Daeng’s shoulder.

  “Get the others out,” he said. “Take everyone to the room downstairs and lock yourselves in. Nate and I are on cleanup.”

  “You two can’t do it alone,” Orlando said.

  “If we need help, I’ll let you know.” He took off down the hall.

  Nate knew there was no way he would catch Janus in time. The son of a bitch had too much of a head start, but he had to try.

  He grabbed the wall just before he reached the stairs so he could propel himself around the corner and up. The around-the-corner part worked. The up, not so much.

  Janus was standing three steps above him, waiting. Nate smashed into the man’s chest and fell back onto the ground, his gun skittering off to the side.

  The welts on his back screamed again, but he ignored them.

  Janus jumped down, his feet heading straight for Nate’s ribs. As Nate rolled to the side, Janus kicked out in an attempt to change direction, but Nate slammed his elbow back, hitting the big man in the calf.

  Janus toppled over, his arm slamming the stone floor with a giant thwack. As the big man lay there, momentarily stunned, Nate popped up onto his feet and scanned the ground for his gun. He tensed when he finally spotted it five feet to Janus’s right. All Janus had to do was turn his head to see it, then reach out and grab the barrel.

  “Get up!” he yelled at his former tormentor, egging him on. “What are you, scared of me?”

  Focus returned to Janus’s face. His gaze narrowed, and he pushed himself up. “You big problem.”

  Nate moved to his right. “Yeah, I am.”

  Countering him, Janus went left. Perfect.

  “I take care of problems,” Janus said. “That is my specialty.”

  “Well, you haven’t taken care of this problem yet, have you?”

  “No. But I am not done yet.”

  The gun was only a few feet behind Nate now. If Janus had seen it, there had been no indication.

  “I don’t know. You seem kind of done to me.”

  Janus smiled. “You try to provoke. I provoke not so easy.”

  Nate took a half step backward. “It was worth a try, wasn’t it?”

  “Trying is for the weak. I never try. I do.”

  “I don’t believe that’s how the quote goes,” Nate said as he slid back a little more.

  “What?”

  “Yoda.”

  “Huh?”

  Nate’s foot touched the end of the barrel. “Never mind.”

  What he really needed was for Janus to take a swing at him, so he could duck down and grab the gun without being obvious. If Janus knew what he was doing, he could put a stop to it before Nate would be able to get the muzzle trained on him.

  “You problem. But now I make you not.”

  Nate urged him forward with a Bruce Lee-style wave of his fingers.

  Instead of taking a swing at him, though, Janus charged, roaring. Nate dropped anyway, one hand hugging his chest to his knees, while the other searched for the gun. As his fingertips touched the suppressor, Janus’s massive thigh whacked into his shoulder.

  Nate tumbled onto hi
s side, the gun under him and digging into his ribcage. Janus stumbled over him, then twisted back around and lashed out with his foot. His instep connected with the rear of Nate’s skull, sending a shockwave of blinding pain through Nate’s head.

  “What’s going on down here?” The voice came from behind them somewhere.

  Nate forced his eyes open. A soldier was standing near the base of the stairs. Nate guessed he was one of the watchmen from the wall.

  “Help me with him,” Janus said.

  “Yes, sir,” the man said.

  The moment Janus looked toward the other man, Nate wrapped his hand around the grip of the gun and yanked it out from under him. The soldier was the first in his sights. He pulled the trigger and his bullet hit center mass, neutralizing Janus’s would-be helper.

  Janus twisted around and tried to grab the gun from him, turning Nate’s hand back and forth, but Nate wouldn’t let go. When the barrel started arcing toward Janus, Nate let off another shot.

  Janus yelled angrily as a splotch of blood appeared in his upper right chest. He made another try for the gun, and Nate pulled the trigger again. This time the bullet only grazed the other man’s ear.

  Someone was running down the hall from the direction of the cells. Janus looked over, shoved himself away from Nate, and sprinted for the stairs. Nate got off another shot just before Janus moved up out of sight, but missed.

  As he started to stand, Quinn ran up and held out a hand. “Here.”

  Back to his feet, Nate said, “He’s mine.”

  CHAPTER 59

  “I know where Harris is,” Daeng told Orlando.

  They had just finished moving everyone to the room at the bottom of the wall. The three op agents were in pretty bad shape, but were at least able to walk. Peter, on the other hand, was still unconscious and had to be carried, though he was showing signs of coming out of it.

  “What about Romero?” she asked.

  “Him, I’m not sure, but he’s probably in the same area.”

  She thought for a moment. Her concern was that while Quinn and Nate went after Janus, Harris and Romero might escape.

  “I don’t want them to get away,” she said.