Retribution: Green Fields #11

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Retribution: Green Fields #11 Page 26

by Adrienne Lecter


  “What exactly have you been doing here? The scientists, I mean. I’m starting to understand that you’ve only ever been the face of everything that’s wrong with this world, but not bright enough to be directly involved.”

  If that hit him, he didn’t show it, his amusement only growing. “What exactly have we been doing?” he said in a musing tone. All that was missing to turn him into a movie villain was a small mustache and his fingers stroking his chin. “Ah, right,” he went on, as if he’d just remembered. “We were busy working on wiping the vermin off the earth, and in a way that even the most idealistic, stupid moron couldn’t refute the evidence anymore.” Somehow, I got the impression he was talking about me specifically with that.

  “You mean the scavengers?”

  He snorted, as if that suggestion amused him. “Nothing but pawns,” he insisted. “It would have been a waste not to sweep them off alongside seeing as the opportunity presented itself.” I was suddenly glad Eden wasn’t in here to hear that—and I hoped that Hamilton would manage not to spill that can of worms first chance he had. It was bad enough that thousands of good fighters were doomed. No need to rub their faces in why since there was nothing they or anyone else could do about it.

  “You mean the serum project, and everyone who’s gotten inoculated with it,” I offered up next. Stone smiled, as if I’d morphed into his favorite overachieving student. I couldn’t help but frown. “How does that make sense? The serum project is Decker’s baby. Personal resentments aside, why kill thousands of capable soldiers who have more than done their duty?”

  Stone cocked his head to the side, studying me. “And what duty have you performed, Dr. Lewis? Besides becoming a huge pain in the ass to some, and a real menace to those you profess to care about. What makes you deserving of the advantages the serum conveys?” He let that sink in for a moment—or needed to pause because breathing was becoming increasingly harder for him. “You, like few other people, symbolize why what we do is necessary. The serum was always meant for the elite few who proved worthy of it. Instead, thousands have received it who did nothing but squander this amazing chance.” His focus dropped from me to the men at my side, and his smile took on a nasty lilt. “It was a mistake, but one that proved hard to correct. As you know, this is one of those matters where it takes one to eliminate one, and yet, you are both still standing, after several attempts to correct that.”

  Neither Nate nor Hamilton reacted—not even to trade glances with each other—but I couldn’t keep my trap shut about that. “What do you mean? Obviously, we know that Miller spent a while in fallen-from-grace territory. But we know that Decker wants him back. Why else would either of them still be alive?” If nothing else, Stone had just confirmed for me that, whoever had been in charge for real at the camp—Cortez had just been a figurehead on the power trip of his life—had known exactly who they’d had sitting in their prison cells.

  Stone gave me a look as if I had deeply disappointed him. “Are you still not getting it? Every single clash that has happened between the both of you was a chance to prove yourself worthy of being welcomed back into the fold,” Stone declared. His tone then turned disdainful. “And what you did was squander it. Giving Hamilton the rescue mission when we knew for a while that the Green Fields Biotech lab would get hit? Sending Miller’s misguided ragtag band of misfits right into the trap at the factory? Leaking the position of the Colorado base, knowing full well Miller would easily pick it out of any possible lineup of destinations? Giving Hamilton the chance to cut Miller’s one weakness right out of his life?” Stone’s attention snapped to me. “You really proved more of a nuisance than anyone could have expected, Dr. Lewis. How you made it to Emily Raynor’s lab is beyond me, and how nobody caved in your skull in France or on the way back will forever remain a mystery—particularly as someone had very specific orders about that and a lot of opportunity.”

  I was less surprised to hear that than the bark of laughter coming from Hamilton. “Well, someone must have reasoned that if a very specific thing is that important to a certain entity, why not let them take care of it themselves?” Or make that the fact that he could communicate in something other than grunts and insults.

  Nate took a step forward, which seemed to be more of an involuntary reaction than intent. “This all has been a game to him, to see which of us would be the more ruthless and kill the other? His best friend and only rival?” Stone didn’t offer a verbal response, but his expression said it all—Nate had just hit the nail on the head. “Why?” Nate asked, but more to himself. “I gave up that race a decade ago—and Decker knows it. I threw in the towel, and he accepted it. He was disappointed, but the day I asked to be assigned from strike force to search and rescue, he agreed he’d misjudged how some of his methods might backfire, and that this was the logical step in the right direction.” I didn’t exactly know what he was talking about, but the time frame made sense—what happened with Bucky’s sister definitely broke Nate’s back and shifted his moral compass; or maybe even made him remember that he had one, in the first place. He’d more than once stressed that Hamilton had been damn ambitious and only too happy to kick Nate off the number one spot. From what I knew, Decker had mercilessly played the two against each other whenever and wherever possible to force them to one-up and outperform each other, but that seemed to have ended with them both entering the serum program. A good leader knew when to push, and when too much would just break useful tools instead, and Decker had definitely known when to back off, particularly as that left him with two top dogs still in play rather than one, broken by the other’s loss.

  It wasn’t Stone who answered but Hamilton instead. “The old man never forgave you for letting me win,” he remarked, sounding less snide than usual, and almost pensive. “I think that was the real betrayal for him. Not that you changed your mind, wanted your old job back, and then found a way to completely screw him over. That you pulled that off likely gained you some of his admiration. I’ve always wondered why he didn’t send me after you before the shit hit the fan. He knew that I was suicidal enough to get the job done and not care whether I made it back or not.”

  I wondered if there was something in the air supply that made people spout bullshit they’d otherwise never admit to. Nate went as far as turning toward Hamilton so he could see the look on his face. Hamilton gave a shrug, as if to say it was all the same to him whether that cat was out of the bag now or not. That, in turn, brought up a different question in me that I just had to ask. “What changed?” That something had changed was obvious. His hatred for me aside, Hamilton had passed up a lot of very good chances to give up, least of which had been the arena. And yet, he was still standing, and right next to the man he’d decided to turn from his best friend into his nemesis.

  Hamilton considered, surprising me yet again when he gave what sounded like an honest answer. “I’m not sure I can say, exactly. At first, I thought it was the certainty of him biting it after we left you assholes standing in the middle of that overrun town. That first winter was rough, and we had so much to do that I almost forgot about it. Then I got the news in spring that not only was he still alive, but he’d managed to assemble an entire team made up of the rejects and dipshits that he’d collected along the way. I expected that would rekindle my animosity, but I honestly didn’t give a shit anymore. I had my orders, and I followed them to the best of my abilities. Not my fault if some of you proved more resourceful than expected.” He shrugged as if to say he also didn’t get it but it was all the same to him. He turned to Stone then. “Decker really thinks he can somehow select who’ll be a part of his new master race, or some shit? If history taught me anything, it’s that shit like that never works out. I maybe get why he’d take some pleasure from watching the two of us beat each other to death, but that’s personal. The serum project isn’t, and never was. Every single member was painstakingly selected, and a lot of good men and women washed out ahead of getting the shot. He was damn proud of every single one
of those who made it.” He paused, casting me a sidelong glance. “Even though I don’t get why she was elected to be worthy of surviving, he must have had his reasons. I’ve never met a single person where that wasn’t the case. So why the change of heart now?”

  It was strange bordering on insane hearing Hamilton say that—about me, specifically, but everyone else as well. It also cast Decker into a very different light from the image of him that I’d formed in my head. Hamilton’s tone bordered on reverent, and considering what that monster had others do to his sister—and how that had destroyed everything in his life just as much as in Nate’s—that was saying a lot.

  Unlike me, Stone looked less impressed with our powers of deduction. “As I said, I’m expendable,” he reiterated. “And I’m by far not important enough to have all the answers.” He opened his mouth to say more but succumbed to a bloody coughing fit that went on for over a minute. His skin looked deathly pale, and not just in contrast to the blood splattered across the lower half of his face. “I’m afraid we will have to cut this conversation short if you insist on torturing me still. Even if that is no longer the case, I’ve about outlasted my usefulness. If there’s nothing else—”

  Not so fast. “What was the intent behind testing out all the components and variants you tested out on these two, and the others in the arena? Drug trafficking might have been of great benefit for Cortez to keep the camp running, but you had a purpose beyond that.”

  Stone looked vexed, as if he had to explain something simple to a child—again. “To find something to break the serum’s hold on someone,” he said. “Waiting for all of those undeserving to fall over and die might take a decade or more. Might have come in handy as an incentive for others to join him in his cause as well. You and those miserable bastards you collect and drag around with you still see it as a blessing, even when you can’t avoid facing that, to all of you, it will only ever be a curse. Ask your friends from the Silo how much they would have appreciated a tool to strip you of the danger you present. Ask any of the settlement citizens.”

  Now he was sounding like Emma, Sadie’s mother, who’d kicked us out of the bunker and later the Wyoming Collective because our cooties might rub off on someone. That this had backfired colossally and cost her spending time with her own daughter and grandchild was just one more sad fact in our lives. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of all those grandiose claims. Oh, I was sure that Stone believed them wholeheartedly—but both Hamilton and Nate had proven to me repeatedly that, where Decker was concerned, it seemed impossible for people to get a real grasp of the situation.

  “Anything else you feel like sharing?” I asked, then turned to my companions. “Because if not, I’ll consider this done.” If Nate was surprised about that, he didn’t show it. Hamilton shook his head, as if to say that he was just along for the ride.

  Stone cast me an incredulous look. “That’s it?”

  I shrugged, as far as that was possible in the suit. “As I said, we didn’t come here to get anything except information—and maybe revenge. Old habits are hard to shake, so I bet I will find what I need in the lab journals your scientists kept—and you said yourself, you have no clue what their day-to-day work was. You don’t know where Decker is, so there’s that. I’m content to watch you useless piece of shit bleed out in here. Maybe not the most satisfying ending, but somehow, real life seldom gives you those grandiose movie finales.”

  I did another check-in with the guys. Nate, changing his mind, cleared his throat. “How did you get here without losing half of your people every single time? I presume the scientists only got here after you cleared a path.”

  Stone seemed amused, and I already knew I wouldn’t like the answer, even if it might prove useful to us. “You presume correctly,” he snarked, looking downright nasty. “We haven’t had a single casualty in transport in over a year now. How does that compare to your experience?” I was considering how well pistol-whipping would work with the positive pressure suit I was in, but Hamilton, surprisingly, jumped into the breach.

  “All in acceptable range,” he provided. “And last I looked, we will be the last ones standing, while you did our work for us. Tell me how exactly that’s a bad outcome?”

  Stone narrowed his eyes but continued to prove jovial with the answers he was ready to provide. “The tunnels,” he offered. “If you go through that airlock over there, you’ll find our vehicles at their charging stations. The tunnels leading north from here go up well past the Dallas city limits. The exit is in a storm drainage system up in Plano.”

  For the first time since we’d entered the facility, I felt like swearing up a storm. If I had my Texas geography right, that put that exit only a handful of miles away from where we’d left our cars. So close, and we’d lost so many people for nothing!

  “That does it,” Hamilton muttered, me probably the only one close enough to hear it. He then turned toward me. “Let’s end this.” Since we’d already reached that conclusion, I didn’t feel like protesting. He glanced at Stone, then back to me. “Exactly how does the cleaning system in here work? I remember you babbling something about cycles, back in Paris.”

  It was probably too much to ask for him to ditch his penchant for verbal abuse even once, but right now I didn’t feel like jumping at his throat for it. “Pretty much like the decontamination shower, only on a widespread level. Vaporized formaldehyde and shit like that, plus hours of UV radiation.”

  “You can activate that from the outside?”

  I nodded. “As long as the inner door of the decontamination shower is closed, the cycle is activated with a simple push of a button. And you can override it.”

  Hamilton looked pleased. “We can lock that door, too?”

  “When the other side of the airlock is open, it’s on auto-lock—and you can’t override that.” I paused, although I had a good idea where he was going with this. “Why?”

  Hamilton gave me a nasty smile. “Sounds like a fitting end for a rat, wouldn’t you say?” He turned back to Stone, raising the pistol in his left hand, but not like he was going to shoot. “This is way too good and easy for an asshole like you.”

  I would have panicked at the idea of biting it like that, but either Stone hadn’t fully grasped what was going to happen to him, or was beyond caring. “The only regret I have is that I won’t be there when you come face to face with Decker and realize that your entire world just went to hell.”

  I might have shot him for that claim but Nate and Hamilton exchanged one last look and then turned to go. I considered lingering for a moment—and maybe taking the index of the tank samples with me, for later perusal—but decided against it. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said we weren’t here to get anything, and I couldn’t exactly decontaminate that shit. Stone watched us leave, his skin color so pale now that he didn’t contrast much with the beige wall next to him. The last to exit, I pushed the vault door shut with a satisfying click.

  Nobody said a word as we made our way back to the airlock, my interest in exploring the rest of the lab squashed for good. We suffered through the chemical onslaught of the decontamination shower in equal silence, but that was also due to the fact that I hadn’t bothered with handing out the suit com units, and the torrential rain coming down on us was too loud to allow normal communication. We exited the shower once the inner door unlocked, and I welcomed the sweet relief of the world having me back as soon as I could tear open the zipper of the suit. Richards was still waiting for us, eyeing us askance but was happy to help us out of the suits first. Hamilton didn’t bother with anything except getting the suit open and the top half flopping behind him as he stepped up to the control panel, and after a moment’s perusal hit the—clearly-labeled—button to start the lab cleaning cycle. Through one of the viewports I saw the lights change as the normal illumination powered down and the violet UV lamps came on. I held my breath, listening for movie-magic screams, but realistically, there was too much space and reinforced walls between us and Ston
e to make that possible. Hamilton had a certain satisfied expression on his face as he set to getting out of the suit. I mostly felt empty. Nate—surprise, surprise—gave me nothing as he pushed Richards aside so he could help me peel off the tape around the socks and gloves. If he noticed the downright caveman behavior—for Nate’s standard—Red didn’t show.

  “You got whoever fled in there, I presume?” Richards finally asked when nobody volunteered any information.

  “Yup,” I offered. “And also anyone else who could have been hiding in there.” That said, I still checked on the number of suits, finding all accounted for. It was theoretically possible that someone had taken a backup suit in, but I doubted it. Stone had made it sound as if the scientists had all been on board with their suicide pact, however idiotic it had been. I was sure Stone had performed a final head count before he’d given his firing squad the go-ahead. Somehow I didn’t think he’d gotten his hands dirty with that, personally.

  “Anything happen while we were gone?” Nate wanted to know.

  Red shook his head. “We checked all the corridors again. No stowaways as far as we can tell. Cole’s taken over the control room, but he already reported that what data storage they’ve had, they completely wiped. Maybe we’ll find a flash drive or two among their personal things, but I doubt it.”

  “They left paper copies,” I pointed out. “If we have time, I’d like to go over some of that.”

  Nate looked amused at the notion that we were on a running clock. “Let’s retreat and regroup. The cafeteria sounds good. The medical station is close by, and it’s easily defendable. I for one could do with some sleep myself. We’ll decide later how long we need to stay here, but a day or two for recovery won’t hurt.”

  I couldn’t help it. My gaze dropped down to the wound in his side. He still held himself upright but there were more bloody splotches visible on the gauze now, and I wondered how close to simply keeling over he really was. If anyone was stubborn enough to keep that from happening on his will alone, it was him, so I didn’t ask.

 

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