The Survival Chronicles (Book 7): Hard Mercy

by Nally, Fergal F.

  Mercy came to a junction and paused. A green stripe ran along the corridor wall on the right. The lighting in the new area was different. In addition to the floor lighting, back-lit ceiling panels let out a diffused glow onto the corridor below.

  New lighting? Green stripe? Come on, come on, let’s end it—

  Mercy gripped her HK45. A trickle of sweat ran down her upper lip. She brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face.

  Alone, alone. I’ve never felt so alone. God Flynn. I know you’re dead. Maybe I’ll be with you soon after all. It won’t be so bad. We won’t have to wake up to this shit every day—

  Mercy clenched her teeth and turned the corner into a new corridor. She had gone thirty feet when a grey haired woman in a white lab coat emerged from a door ahead.

  You’ve got this. Own it. Bluff it to the hilt—

  “Halt. Show me your ID,” Mercy demanded.

  The woman blinked, surprised. “What the hell? Don’t you know who I am? Get out of my way—”

  Mercy blocked the woman and brought her pistol up. “New orders ma’am, tightened security from the top down. Show me your ID please—”

  The woman glanced up the corridor, her face flushed. “This is ridiculous. Mitchell’s getting more paranoid by the day. He’s got us working nineteen hour shifts, people get tired and miss things. It’s intolerable, this is how mistakes are made.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an ID card attached to an electronic key card.

  Mercy took the cards and examined them. “You know you should be using the lanyard to wear these around your neck. ID is to be visible at all times.”

  The woman’s face crumpled and her irritation was replaced by fear. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re not going to report me, are you? You’re right officer, security is paramount. You’re doing your job. I understand. It won’t happen again.” She held out her hand for the ID card.

  Mercy read the biometric ID card: PROFESSOR MAXINE VAN VAERENBERG; IN-VIVO CELLULAR AND MOLECULAR IMAGING LABORATORY.

  Mitchell’s near. Her body language. She just gave the game away. He’s close. I know it—

  “Right Professor, you’re coming with us,” Mercy said. She grabbed the woman and spun her around, restraining her in an arm lock. She pressed her pistol to the woman’s head and kept her voice low, “If you scream or make any noise I’ll put a bullet in your brain. Got it?”

  The woman’s legs buckled and she started shaking. She nodded, making a supressed choking sound. A trickle of urine ran down her leg to the floor.

  Sorry bitch, but this is the way it has to be—

  “On me,” Mercy said to Rose and Barnes.

  “Affirmative,” Barnes growled.

  “Roger that,” Rose added.

  Breathe—

  Mercy shoved the professor down the corridor.

  Human shield, it’s where we’re at. Well, there’s a first time for everything I guess—

  The professor stopped in her tracks, fifty feet from the next junction. “The President’s quarters are around that corner. He’s got armed guards out front 24/7. They’ll shoot first if you pitch up like this.”

  “Good intel,” Mercy hissed back. “So, we’re gonna do it differently. You’re going to go in first. You’ll do all the talking. Make up some science shit, something urgent that you have to talk to Mitchell about. Don’t take no for an answer. And know this, I’ll be right up your ass and if you try and warn them… you’ll be the first to stop a bullet. Understand?”

  The professor nodded and let out a strange whimper.

  “Pull your shit together, do as I say and you’ll be fine, got it?” Mercy softened her tone but tightened her grip on the professor’s arm. “When we reach that corner I’m gonna let you go. Keep walking towards them. Don’t stop. Keep talking, all the way. Here’s your ID back, wear it. Let’s go—”

  The professor took the ID card and put the lanyard around her neck. They moved forwards and reached the corner. Mercy released her prisoner, the professor straightened her clothes and took a deep breath. Mercy jabbed her with the HK45. The professor winced then walked around the corner. Two armed NSA guards stood outside a set of electronically locked doors at the end of a thirty foot corridor. They stiffened as the professor, Mercy, Rose and Barnes advanced down the corridor.

  “I’ve got to see the President,” the professor said, her voice shaky. “It’s urgent. We have a priority report in from the immunology team in Philadelphia. It’s time sensitive, take me to him now—”

  One of the guards put a hand out and raised his HK MP5 submachine gun. “Stop right there. Identify yourself.”

  The other guard touched his earpiece and spoke using his throat microphone, “Contact sitrep: one white coat and escort outside. Status pending. Await update, over—”

  The professor raised her ID card for the guard to see, “Professor Van Vaerenberg; cellular and molecular imaging—”

  The guard lowered his gun and brought up a scanning device to check the ID card. Mercy’s eyes narrowed.

  Situational awareness—

  Mercy registered the electronic key card on the guard’s belt.

  This is it. Relax, breathe, it’s like a dance. Timing is everything—

  The nearest guard looked down at the hand held scanner as he waved it over the professor’s ID card. Mercy brought up her HK45 and leaned in over the professor’s shoulder.

  The professor screamed—

  Chapter 11

  Penetration

  Mercy squeezed the trigger. The professor’s shoulder knocked against Mercy’s gun hand. The shot went wild, missing the guard.

  The professor dropped to the floor. Mercy threw herself at the guard, slamming her gun arm against his chest. Shots exploded behind Mercy.

  Impact. Movement. The smell of stale sweat.

  The guard grappled with Mercy, breaking her hold. He brought his MP5 up and squeezed the trigger. Mercy felt a tug at her waist. Her pistol went off. The guard jerked and fell to the floor.

  Muffled voices. Screaming. Blurred vision.

  My leg’s wet. What just happened?

  Mercy’s breath returned in a rush. She looked down at her waist. Her water bottle had taken a round, her trousers were soaked. Mercy took a deep breath and shuddered. Her vision focused.

  Calm down. It’s not blood—

  Rose’s face came into focus. “You’re OK Mercy. You’re not hit. I checked. Your canteen took a hit is all, he got a burst off, most went into the wall. I finished him. Barnes got the other guy, the woman caught a round, she freaked out, she didn’t make it—”

  Mercy looked at Barnes and Rose, “We’re OK, it’s still on.” She reached down and grabbed the key card from the dead guard’s waist. “On me—”

  Mercy swiped the key card in the electronic lock. The red light changed to green and a metallic click came from the door. Barnes and Rose stood to one side. Mercy pressed her back into the corner and opened the door.

  Silence.

  Mercy unslung her M16 and dropped to the floor. She made eye contact with Rose, pointed to her chest then at the door. Rose nodded. Mercy counted to three then rolled in front of the open door.

  Clear. A foyer—

  A white, marble antechamber lay ahead. An inner set of double doors faced Mercy. A camera looked down onto the foyer from the corner.

  They’ve got eyes on us. Keep moving. There’s no time to waste—

  Mercy stood up and pulled a fragmentation grenade from her webbing. She rushed forwards and opened the inner doors from the side. She pulled the pin and threw the grenade into the next room. She ducked to the side. Rose and Barnes pressed in behind her. Mercy counted.

  One, two—

  An ear shattering explosion tore through the room beyond.

  “Watch our six,” Mercy yelled to Barnes. “Rose, with me—”

  Mercy crouched low and rushed into the room, her M16 blazing. She stopped and stared.

  It’s empty—

  Th
e room was lit by a green banker’s lamp on a large desk near the back wall. A drinks counter lay on the right and a huge lounge area opened up ahead. Sofas and chairs filled the space. A large TV screen dominated one wall, above an imitation fireplace. A map of the United States filled another wall. A corridor extended behind the desk. A set of double doors lay ahead and a second set on the left. The grenade had destroyed a luxurious chandelier which lay shattered on the floor.

  Shit. Too many doors. Move—

  Mercy ejected the empty magazine from her M16 and inserted a fresh one. She rushed to the end of the room, passing the large desk. Three single doors were visible in the corridor. Mercy stood to one side of the nearest door. She kicked at some broken glass. Three shotgun blasts came through the door.

  Mercy reached out, pointing the M16 through a gaping hole in the door and emptied a whole magazine into the room. She inserted a new magazine and gave Rose a nod. “Open it—”

  Rose kicked the door and Mercy burst in, her M16 at the ready. A young woman lay dead on the floor, her body riddled with bullets. Mercy took the Mossberg 500 from her still-warm hands and threw it to one side.

  Shit. Where are you Mitchell?

  Mercy left the side room.

  Rose was outside shaking her head, “The other two rooms are empty.” Her eyes returned to the two sets of double doors on the other side of the lounge area.

  A loud electronic wailing erupted throughout the underground complex. Red LED lights flashed in the ceiling, creating a strobe effect.

  Christ, the alarm. We’ve probably got seconds. A minute or two if Barnes can hold them off at the door. Do it, it’s all been for this one minute—

  “Give me a fresh mag,” Mercy held out her hand.

  Rose gave Mercy two magazines.

  Mercy reloaded. “Be ready with your frags. On me—”

  Mercy ran through the flashing red lounge to the first set of double doors. She rolled across the broken glass and fired a whole magazine into the doors. A second later two magnum rounds burst through what was left of the doors. Mercy cursed and shouted, “Now Rose—”

  Rose leant in and lobbed a grenade through the shredded doors. A vicious series of shotgun blasts came from the room.

  One, two, three—

  A heart stopping explosion followed, silencing the shotgun.

  Result—

  Gunfire erupted from the front entrance.

  Barnes—

  Mercy rolled away from the blasted doors to the wall beside the remaining set of double doors. Rose rushed across the room and joined Mercy.

  “Last room, we’ve got to be sure. We need to nail the bastard, we need to see his face—” Mercy shouted above the gunfire.

  Without warning the double doors opened and something heavy landed on the floor ten feet away.

  Christ—

  Mercy turned away and embraced Rose, shielding her friend. A pop and a harsh hiss followed. Smoke billowed into the room.

  Thank Christ, it’s only a smoke grenade—

  Movement. Shoes crunching on broken glass. Thick smoke. Flashing red lights.

  They’re breaking out—

  Automatic weapons fire filled the room. Three muzzle flashes were visible through the swirling smoke.

  Yessss—

  Mercy and Rose opened up on the muzzle flashes, their M16s on full automatic.

  Eat this—

  Mercy’s rifle clicked on empty. She reached for her HK45. A cough followed by strangled gurgling came from a few feet away. Glass crunched. Mercy crouched low, the smoke making her eyes water. A cough rose in her throat. Without warning a hand gripped her ankle.

  Mercy pointed her pistol at the figure on the floor and shot five times. The hand on her ankle fell away. She covered her mouth and coughed, her breathing laboured. Rose appeared beside her, holding a lit torch. Rose muttered something and pointed to the shape on the floor. Mercy frowned, not understanding what Rose had said.

  Rose grabbed Mercy’s shoulder and pulled her down to the body. Rose grabbed the man by the hair and shoved the torch in his face. He looked unkempt, his hair long and ragged, his face gaunt and covered in sores. A long beard reached almost to his chest. But still he was recognisable.

  President Mitchell. It’s him. We got him. Shit, he looks… like a crack addict—

  Rose’s voice boomed beside Mercy, her words coming into focus, “It’s him, it’s Mitchell. We’ve nailed the bastard—”

  Mercy slumped to the floor, overwhelmed.

  It’s over. How come it feels like … nothing?

  The gunfire at the entrance stopped. Silence gripped the room. Rose’s hold on Mercy’s shoulder tightened.

  A strangled scream came from the foyer.

  Barnes—

  Chapter 12

  Gone

  Choking sounds.

  “It’s coming from behind the drinks counter,” Rose whispered to Mercy. “Barnes is either wounded or someone’s got him—”

  “It’s difficult to see through all this smoke,” Mercy responded. “We’re gonna have to rush them, they’ll have him at gunpoint—”

  “This is turning into a bad day,” Rose muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Ready to do this? I’ll go over the counter, you go in under the hatch,” Mercy said.

  “Yeah, you’re the diversion. I’m the assassin,” Rose gripped her pistol.

  “On three. One, two… three—” Mercy whispered.

  Mercy vaulted over the counter, her gun extended. Rose was a blur, a few feet away. Broken glass crunched under Mercy’s boots as she landed on the other side. The smoke swirled around her.

  A grunt of pain then a scuffle a few feet away.

  Mercy stepped forwards, her HK45 at the ready. A figure threw itself at her from under the counter. She shot twice without thinking. The alpha dropped to the ground its skull blasted apart by two .45 ACP rounds. More scuffling ahead. A groan and a scream. Mercy flinched and brought her pistol up.

  Why aren’t they shooting at me?

  Movement. A figure lurched out of the smoke. Mercy’s eyes widened as the smoke parted. Barnes stood in front of her, an alpha’s arm around his neck. Barnes’s eyes were bulging, his face bloodied. Mercy pointed her pistol at the alpha behind him. Her finger twitched on the trigger.

  I’ll hit Barnes, dammit—

  Mercy hesitated.

  Barnes gasped, “Take the shot—”

  Do it—

  More figures. Movement in the smoke beside the alpha. The smoke shifted. Mercy’s eyes widened. Her breath faltered.

  Rose—

  The alpha queen’s eyes met Mercy’s for a fleeting moment as it dragged Rose’s inert body over the counter.

  Mercy hesitated. A heartbeat passed.

  Choose dammit—

  Another alpha burst across the counter blocking Mercy’s line of sight. Mercy fired two shots. The alpha collapsed onto the counter. The queen was gone.

  Barnes jerked, struggling against his captor. Mercy swung her gun towards his head. She fired a single shot, screaming in anguish as smoke covered up the scene.

  Movement. Scrabbling sounds. Crunching glass. Silence in between the wailing electronic alarm and the flashing of the emergency lights. The stench of death in the air.

  Mercy jumped over the counter and moved through the foyer, stepping on spent bullet casings. She peered into the corridor outside. At least twenty NSA bodies littered the floor; some with bullet wounds, others with their throats slashed and, a few with their faces missing.

  Shit, Barnes got some of them but that alpha bitch and her pack got the others. They must’ve escaped from that lab. She wanted Rose all along. Why the hell does she want Rose?

  Mercy’s legs buckled, she sank to the floor, shaking.

  What the fuck just happened? Rose is gone. Shit, what about Barnes?

  Mercy coughed and waved her arms at the smoke. Visibility improved as the smoke dissipated into the outside corridor. Mercy crawled back to th
e bar area. Three inert figures lay on the floor. She ignored the two dead alphas and crawled over to the third, unmoving body.

  Barnes—

  Mercy lifted Barnes’s head, cradling him in her lap.

  “Barnes. I’m so sorry, I fucked up. I’m sorry—” a strange sensation welled up inside her. Her eyes stung, making her blink. Something broke and she screamed, her whole body convulsing. “You bitch, you fucking bitch. I’ll find you. I’ll track you down however long it takes—”

  Barnes’s hand twitched. Mucous dribbled from his mouth. Blood trickled from his nose onto his beard. He coughed then started choking.

  Mercy blinked. “Barnes? Hey Barnes, stay with me, breathe, breathe—”

  Mercy rolled Barnes onto his side, supported his head and lifted his chin, opening up his airway. Barnes coughed again, bringing up more bloody mucous. He jerked twice then he blinked. His breathing came in gasps.

  Barnes sat up and pressed his back against the wall. He stared at Mercy, “Am I bit?”

  Mercy shook her head, “Not that I can see. You took a beating though—”

  “You took the shot. I felt it,” Barnes said, his hand going to his head. He felt his skull, then his neck. He glanced at the dead alpha on the floor. “I guess you got the bastard… and you let me keep my good looks. I owe you for that. Rough day. Did you get Mitchell?”

  Rough day—?

  “Barnes you’re one tough sonofabitch. Yeah, we got Mitchell. He’s back in there,” Mercy nodded at the room.

  Barnes coughed. “That’s good, real good. I wasted some of those NSA bastards but then that alpha queen appeared with her pack. They finished off the rest of the guards. They were fast. They grabbed me, took me in here, did that thing, playing me off against you…” he broke off.

  Mercy stared at the floor.

  Barnes looked around. Understanding crossed his face, “It’s Rose, isn’t it? They were after Rose all along. Rose said the alpha queen was… grooming her for some weird shit, didn’t she?”

  Mercy remained silent.

  “We’ve accomplished what we set out to do. This is called mission success. We can kick back and wait for the NSA to find us or we can end it ourselves.” Barnes pointed at the HK45 still in Mercy’s hand. “I’ll do it for you… if you want to go first—”