Birth of Heavy Metal Boxed Set

by Michael Todd

  Kennedy nodded. “Keep the free repairs in that and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  He shook his head but finally chuckled. “You’re right. I’ll never find anyone desperate enough to go get it. You’ve got a deal, but you pay up front.”

  She shook her head firmly. “Come on, Boulos, you know me better than that. Besides, if I try to yank it, you can shut the suit down, right? We’ll pay once the repairs are done. Not a second before.”

  He extended his hand, and she shook it heartily.

  “You drive a hard bargain, Kennedy, but you’ve not welched on me yet, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this one time,” the man said with a grin, and she laughed. “How will you two go in to get the suit anyway?”

  “We’ll need a geek suit for Jacobs,” Kennedy said. “One of these three grand ones should do just fine. I’ll rent a suit from the base for this one mission.”

  “Deal,” Boulos said with a grin. “I really hope you two make it.”

  “You and me both,” she responded cheerfully. “Can you get everything including the guns and supplies to his residence today?”

  “It’ll be delivered this afternoon.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “So,” Sal muttered once they left the emporium, “it looks like we’re not off to the smoothest start.”

  Kennedy shrugged. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy. Going out on your own means looking out for yourself, and that’s not always the easiest adjustment to make. We’ve made inroads, and we have something to start with.”

  He nodded. “Well, that is a silver lining, but we still need to get you that suit.”

  “Yep. Look, Jacobs, I’m looking forward to working with you, but I think we need some ground rules, okay?”

  Sal narrowed his eyes. She wouldn’t bring that up now, would she? He thought they were past the whole drunken sex thing.

  “What kind of ground rules?”

  “I want a stake in this company,” she explained. “Shares or whatever they’re called. A piece of the profits as well as a piece of the investment when it comes time to expand, you know?”

  Oh. Those kinds of ground rules. He shook off the odd feeling of disappointment and nodded.

  “Since you’re the brains and will do a lot of the work, it’s fair that you get a bigger cut,” she continued. “But I’m your gunner, so I want ten percent of all company profits, plus to keep whatever I bring in. The looting law still applies, you get me?”

  Sal nodded. “That seems fair.”

  “And I’m only actually on board with this whole thing once I get the suit,” she added with a tone of finality. “I won’t put my neck permanently on the line for you in the military garbage.”

  “That’s also fair.” He offered her his hand. “I don’t have a contract or anything written up yet, but if you’ll take a gentleman’s agreement for now, I think I can address the paperwork once we actually get the suit back, okay?”

  Kennedy squeezed his hand firmly until Sal could feel his knuckles grind. He only winced slightly, though, which he thought was something to be proud of.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Jacobs.” She pointed a warning finger at him.

  “You can quote me verbatim if you like.” He rubbed his aching hand surreptitiously. “So, what’s our next step? Even with a military-issued suit, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to head into the zoo on our own.”

  “It isn’t,” Kennedy growled. “Which means we’ll have to piggy-back on another operation. From the coordinates Boulos gave me, it’s safe to assume that this guy died doing a sweep run. They’ve set those up to keep the animals from straying too close to the wall construction. If we find another team heading that way, we’ll convince them to let us tag along and ask them to take a quick detour to where the suit is, pick it up, head on back, and your mom’s brother is Robert.”

  Sal raised an eyebrow.

  “You know,” she explained. “Bob’s your uncle?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he said with a grin. “Seems like such a dorky thing for someone as badass as you to say.”

  “What, I can’t be badass and dorky?” Kennedy asked.

  “No,” Sal said firmly. “The two are mutually exclusive. The dorkier you are, the less badass you become, and vice-versa. It’s been the high school law since the sixties. Have you not seen any of the terrible sixties high school movies?”

  “Nope. I think that’s where your dorkiness cuts into your badassness.”

  “Touché.” He rolled his eyes. “So, where will we find a sweep trip? Do we head to the commandant’s office? Ask him if any missions are going out?”

  “No.” Kennedy shook her head. “He’s not authorized to make any personnel changes without an okay from the team leaders. It’ll be quicker and easier if we find one of them and get them to include us on their own without any outside intervention.”

  “That sounds good,” Sal said. “How do you propose that we find one?”

  “Well, let me ask you a question. Where would you be if you were mentally preparing yourself for a trip into a place where animals will do their best to tear you apart?”

  Probably in his apartment, gaming and getting his blood up for the mission to come, but he didn’t want to tell her that.

  “I’m not the right person to ask that,” he pointed out without getting into details.

  “The bar, dumbass.” She smirked. “And if you think I’m walking all the way out there again, you’re out of your damn mind.”

  “Wait, what?” Sal asked. “Did you come to meet me from the bar?”

  “Hey, Jacobs,” Kennedy said. “You can expect me to put my military career behind me and get into some business deal that might end with the both of us killed. I think I owe you that much. But if you think I’ll do this shit sober, you’re out of your damn mind.” She stepped into a nearby JLTV and started it up.

  “Do you really think you should drive drunk in a military base?” he asked.

  “Who are you, the highway patrol? Get in.”

  The bar was the same, yet it looked different every time Sal walked into it. Maybe the owner moved the decorations around, or maybe he wasn’t as observant as he used to think he was, but every time he walked in, it felt like he’d arrived for the first time.

  The place had heart, although it wasn’t a particularly healthy organ. The arteries were probably clogged, and the owner very likely had diabetes or something similar, but it had a heart in it, and Sal couldn’t deny that he enjoyed being there. He wasn’t even that much of a drinker and he usually left after only one beer, or maybe two, but the antique jukebox was enough to lift his spirits no matter what kind of mood he was in.

  He was an alcohol problem away from one of those regulars in an eighties sitcom, he suddenly realized as they entered.

  Despite the early hour, three patrons had already gathered to get their drink on. They toasted each other’s health and made bets about how many kills each would get. Whatever kept their spirits up before heading into the Zoo, Sal decided. The thought of killing the animals for a bet still made him slightly nauseous, but his hands weren’t exactly clean of the critters’ blood either, so who was he to judge?

  “Kennedy!” one of the men called as they moved toward the bar. “Look who decided to show up for a drink!”

  Kennedy grinned. “Xander, looking fresh as always.”

  Sal narrowed his eyes. Xander was one of the more notorious team leaders around. The man did everything by the book, and it seemed he always managed to bring in above-average hauls. For whatever reason, none of the other soldiers liked working with him. He’d been one of the squad leaders on Sal’s second trip into the Zoo, and while he wasn’t as engaging or charismatic as Davis, he was still perfectly acceptable.

  “Come on over and have a drink with us,” the man said and pulled a couple of extra chairs to their table. “You can bring your friend too.”

  “Thanks, Xander.” Kennedy looked at the bartender. �
��Can we have a couple of frothy ones?”

  The bulky man grunted, nodded, and filled two clean glasses.

  “So, what brings you in here, Kennedy?” Xander asked. “Don’t tell me you’re a daytime drinker.”

  “Well, actually she has something of a drinking pr—” Sal’s joke was cut off when her elbow dug into his ribs.

  “I’m actually going freelance,” Kennedy explained as the bartender arrived with their drinks. “Jacobs here and I need to make some extra cash, so we’ll head out on our own for a while. We got a job to retrieve some loot from around the area you guys run the sweeps through.”

  “Fall in with some sharks, huh?” Xander asked, and Sal narrowed his eyes. What was this, a nineties movie?

  “Something like that,” she said easily and ignored the look on Sal’s face. “We need to head into the Zoo, and I don’t like the idea of only me and a specialist. I hoped that I could snag a spot in your crew. You guys are headed out tomorrow morning, right?”

  He nodded. “You’ve got your facts right. To be honest, I feel shitty about heading into the Zoo with only a trio, but after the past couple of weeks, we’ve had to run more sweeps to keep the construction sites clear and our boys are spread too thin. I think I can justify bringing you in as a freelancer. It would be good to have someone with your kind of experience, but I can’t justify a member of the geek squad, you know? The higher-ups won’t go for it. This isn’t a Pita run.”

  Kennedy nodded. “I understand. So, what can you do for me?”

  Xander looked at Sal, who regarded him calmly. “Well, can he hold his own in a fight, or is he one of those specialists who need us to wipe their asses for them?”

  She chuckled. “I’ve been on a few jobs with Jacobs, and he’s got balls of pure steel, even if he shoots like a myopic grandmother.”

  The group laughed, and the team leader grinned as he leaned back in his seat and studied Sal with a more critical eye.

  “Look, I can’t justify a specialist, but if he’ll take a freelance gunner’s pay, I can squeeze it through,” he said finally and took a long sip of his beer.

  “We’ll take it.” Kennedy nodded. “We have our own suits, guns, and supplies, so that should make it easier for them to swallow.”

  “All right, it’s a deal,” Xander said with a grin. He gripped Kennedy’s hand first, then Sal’s. “We’ll leave at six and won’t wait for you if you’re late. Meet us on runway five and we’ll set off.”

  Sal rubbed his sore hand furtively. He needed to get used to this sort of thing or he wouldn’t be able to work at all. And he had to pay for his own medical bills now. He couldn’t imagine the kind of fees they’d charge around there.

  “Let’s drink on it,” Kennedy said and raised her glass. “And the next round is on me.” They cheered in response as they downed what was left of their drinks and the bartender refilled them. Sal called it quits after finishing the drink Kennedy had bought him. He wasn’t a daytime drinker, and he had other ways to prepare himself for the trip into the Zoo. It never got easier, but it did become more routine.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sal scowled and poked at his suit.

  “Would you cut that out?” Kennedy asked although she looked supremely uncomfortable in hers too.

  They’d gotten one of the cheaper options of scientific exploration suit, which was probably something they’d used before they’d even put the goop out in the Sahara. It was basically a hazmat suit, complete with a thick rubber outer covering and a plastic facemask with a buggy HUD. It wasn’t one of the newer devices, so while it had a basic scientific software patch, it lacked most of the features Sal had started to get used to when it came to equipment.

  Kennedy didn’t look happy either, even though she wore one of the newer versions of the gunner combat suits. It was the Mark Fifteen, but it was still functional, with a proper power arm for her assault rifle and a fully upgraded HUD system.

  She was unhappy about the price of it and having to rent it out of her own pocket.

  Sal had tried to convince her to let him cover it, but she’d insisted that she had to put some investment into their little operation too. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a fair partnership. He thought it was bullshit. They paid specialists more than double what they paid gunners, which meant he had managed to save a good deal more extra cash than she had—and had spent a lot less of it at the bar.

  But Kennedy could get damn stubborn about things, and he had learned over his admittedly limited time with her that it wasn’t worth it to try to win arguments like this. He only hoped that something in this job would pay for all their expenses.

  And, hopefully, for something better for future trips than the hazmat suit he now wore.

  “Seriously, Jacobs,” she snapped. “I’m hungover and only one coffee into the day. You keep messing with that suit, and I’ll rip it off you in a less-than-sexy way.”

  Sal nodded. “Loud and clear.”

  At around five-thirty, the squad’s JLTVs arrived. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and the whole view of the Sahara, the Zoo, and the wall under construction was really something to look at.

  From the look of the rest of the squad, though, he doubted they would even notice it. They were clearly all in the same, one coffee, totally hungover boat as Kennedy was, but they lacked the great looks and the charisma to make it charming rather than annoying.

  Maybe that was why nobody liked going into the Zoo with Xander, Sal realized. The man had neglected to shave and looked like he hadn’t slept all night.

  “You two are early,” he almost snarled as he stepped out of his JLTV.

  “The way I see it, you’re doing us a favor here, Xander.” Kennedy kept her voice low. “It would be terrible manners to arrive late when you’re helping us out.”

  “Right,” the man said and yanked his helmet off. “Well, we won’t have much time to wait while you collect your loot. Like I said, we’re run pretty thin keeping all these critters away from the construction crews. If we are separated and you have to head on back, I can’t promise that you’ll get the salaries for running with us, although they’ll probably pay you for whatever it is that you pick up.”

  Sal and Kennedy nodded, and he tried to stop messing with his suit. She had been able to restrain herself from attacking him due to their quasi-friendship. He had no such relationship with the other three in the squad, so he didn’t want to test the limits of their control.

  “Okay,” Xander instructed, “Carlson and Waters, you guys know the route. We don’t have time to brief Kennedy and Jacobs, so you will have to follow our lead. The objective is simple. We’re not looking for Pita flowers, although if you find any, feel free to collect. Jacobs, you’re paid half a specialist’s salary for this run, but that doesn’t mean that you work half the time. You’ll carry your own weight, and we won’t wait for you to keep up as we move through the jungle, understood?”

  He nodded. His physical conditioning had improved during his time there, and since he’d been expected to carry his own weight during the past two trips and worked with a scientist’s suit instead of power armor, he’d easily managed to keep up with the gunners on his squads.

  It didn’t mean it wouldn’t be difficult, but it would be easier than his first time in there.

  “Okay, guys, let’s load up and get this show on the road,” Xander shouted, and they piled into the one APC that had been provided for this sweep run and started off. Sal could sense that the team leader seriously lacked the charisma and ability to keep his team’s spirits up during a mission that Davis had. Davis also didn’t let his teams drink the day before a mission, which was probably why the man still led teams on Pita runs, as they were called, instead of being tasked to protect the walls. The sweeps didn’t pay as much as the flowers did since there was less chance of bounties on a run that squads covered every couple of days.

  Sal was seated between Kennedy and a massive Viking of a man called Carlson. He had long b
lond hair and a big bushy beard that Sal was a little jealous of. Anything he tried to grow on his face resembled peach fuzz.

  “So, you come armed, Jacobs?” Carlson asked, and Sal could see Waters, a powerful if shorter man with dark skin, also listened for an answer.

  Sal nodded and drew the pistol from the holster he’d fitted to his suit. It was a Ruger thirty-seven with a fifteen-round magazine. With the shredder rounds Sal had asked for, it had a pretty decent stopping power at under twenty meters.

  “Do you know how to use that?” Waters asked in an accent that indicated that he was from deep Georgia.

  Sal nodded again. “I’ve had it for a couple of runs into the Zoo already, and I take it to the shooting range whenever I can.”

  “That’s not the same thing as knowing how to use it,” Carlson said with a sneer.

  “I can vouch for his fighting ability,” Kennedy said quietly. “I’d trust Jacobs with my life in the Zoo, and I’ve had to the couple of times we’ve gone in together.”

  Sal was worried that the two would mock him for having her back his skills with a gun. He thought they might even wonder at their relationship if she was willing to go out of her way to make sure they trusted someone who was as unreliable as a specialist was likely to be in a gunfight.

  But it seemed like she had earned their trust and respect, so when she said she trusted someone with her life, they didn’t bother to challenge her or Sal on it and quickly quieted. The drone of the APC had a calming effect on the raw nerves of the squad, and the complaints about being hungover decreased over time.

  They headed in a different direction than Sal had in his previous three trips into the Zoo. This time, they traveled toward the wall, which made sense since their task was to protect it. He had never actually been close enough to appreciate how huge it really was.

  What appeared to be a single structure from a distance was actually three. The one in the middle rose much higher than the others. All of fifty meters high, it was made of a similar material to the prefab they used for the buildings in the Staging Area but was a lot denser and thicker. It looked like it could probably stop a tornado in its tracks. Sal had lived in LA for the past couple of years, so he was accustomed to huge buildings, but he was now used to the squat little buildings in the Staging Area. Seeing something that high and stretching across that much space was truly breathtaking. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much work went into it. While he wasn’t an engineer, he could still appreciate it. He leaned closer to his window as they approached it.