Mackenzie looked at his friend. “We’ll find out soon enough. Just hang on tight, John. And pray.”
They walked the rest of the distance in silence. They left the main highway and walked in darkness north along a secondary road, once topped with gravel, but now filled with snow-covered shrubs. They moved off the road and walked across a lightly wooded field, struggling in the snow. In the darkness they came upon a low wooded knoll. In the low light Mackenzie saw several rows of white tents covered with camouflage netting amongst the bare trees. He smelled hot food, and his stomach grumbled.
Mackenzie and the other workers ate a hot meal and bedded down in a tent in their own sleeping bags. Restless, the men talked about how they would get back to their families. Some looked to Mackenzie for answers, but he said nothing. Exhausted, he fell asleep almost immediately.
MACKENZIE woke. His head felt numb, and bells rang in his ears. He tried to sit up but could only roll over. Something covered his body. He pushed with his arms and legs, but whatever it was just folded around his limbs. He began to scream, but his voice sounded and felt odd.
After a few moments of thrashing about, the cover lifted and he saw a blue sky with wisps of cloud. Obuyi stood above him and held out a hand. Mackenzie grasped it and got to his feet. The tent lay in a shambles, and men lay on the ground everywhere.
Suddenly a great fountain of earth, trees and snow erupted on the slope, about thirty meters away. A strong force threw Mackenzie and Obuyi off their feet and they sprawled on the ground. Mackenzie shook his head and slowly got to his knees. He finally realized he couldn’t hear anything but a loud ringing in his ears. He saw Obuyi get to his feet. The man again offered his hand; Mackenzie grasped it and climbed to his feet.
Obuyi screamed something and pulled Mackenzie along the side of the low hill. Reeling, Mackenzie followed, barely able to stay on his feet. He saw bodies everywhere: soldiers and rig workers. The snow soaked up the blood.
Something caught Mackenzie’s vision. It streaked from the ground on a pillar of smoke. In less than a second it impacted a low flying but quickly moving aircraft. With a puff of black smoke and orange flame, the aircraft shattered, thousands of pieces tumbling to the ground.
Mackenzie stumbled again, and Obuyi helped him to his feet. They took cover behind a pile of deadfall. Mackenzie couldn’t hear anything except ringing bells, but he saw two more aircraft come in; they launched missiles that struck the stop of the knoll, sending snow, dirt, trees, and bodies into the air.
Mackenzie held his nose and blew to clear out his ears. Some of his hearing returned, enough to hear the moans and cries of men, the shriek of another missile streak into the sky, and the explosions as the aircraft disintegrated in a ball of black and orange.
“USNORTHCOM found us,” Mackenzie said. He didn’t feel particularly fearful, or sad. He merely spoke a statement of fact.
“Mackenzie,” Obuyi said. Mackenzie felt Obuyi grab his shoulder. “What did Peters tell you last night?”
“Why should you care?”
Obuyi reached into his coveralls and pulled out a pistol. “I need to know what he told you.”
“What the fuck is this?”
“You need to tell me, Mackenzie. What did Peters say last night?”
Mackenzie’s mind reeled. This man who he had taken into his home pointed a gun at him. “You’re USNORTHCOM. When did you sell out?”
“I’ve always been, Mackenzie.” He smiled. “General Clark sends his regards.”
“You motherfucker…,” Mackenzie’s anger rose. It knew no bounds. He reached out and grabbed Obuyi by the front of his coveralls and threw him to the ground. But, quick as a snake, Obuyi swept Mackenzie’s legs with his own. Mackenzie tumbled to the ground, and Obuyi rolled on top of him and pinned him to the ground.
“I don’t want to kill you, Charles, but I will if I need to.”
“Why me? I wasn’t hurting anyone! I committed no crime against USNORTHCOM!”
“You have been watched since the death of your sons on the Southwestern Front. STRATSIM computed that you had an 88% chance of being contacted by an agent from the Unificationists.
“What the fuck is STRATSIM?”
“Strategic Simulation; it’s a game theory instruction set executed on a neural net.”
“A fucking computer,” Mackenzie spat. “And you, your wife and children, all fiction.”
“Designed to appeal to your emotions about your own children.”
“What about my wife?”
Obuyi didn’t reply.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” The tears rose in Mackenzie’s eyes. “You fucking bastard.”
“What did Peters tell you?” Obuyi asked quietly.
“Why didn’t you just arrest him?”
“We had to let the scenario play itself out; we didn’t want to spook them by arresting Peters. He’s just one piece of a larger puzzle. What are the Unificationists going to do? What did he tell you?”
His fears realized, Mackenzie let the anger and hate wash over him. He didn’t fear for himself.
He feared himself.
He feared of what he was capable. That is why he hated them for pardoning him. He knew he should have died, that he had to die.
Because he liked killing.
“Back in Sudbury I killed a bunch you of motherfuckers. Of course, I shot-”
“WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO?!” Obuyi shouted.
“…evil bastards, but that was too quick and you assholes weren’t worth the ammunition. We used to think up all sorts of ways to waste you fuckers. My favorite was drowning; we would hold one of you bastards under water with your limbs bound and a boot on the back of your neck. We would take bets how long it would take for the body to stop thrashing. You know what?” He laughed. “A person really can drown in three inches of water!”
Obuyi struck him across the face with the butt of the pistol. “What are they going to do?”
Mackenzie spit a gob of blood from his mouth. “You know what’s most fucked up about all of this? I liked it. That’s right - I loved killing you bastards. We all did. It was fun! I still dream about it!”
Obuyi pointed a pistol at Mackenzie’s face.
“Do it!” Mackenzie said. “You fuckers shouldn’t have pardoned me all those years ago! You should’ve killed me!”
“Oh no, Charles. It won’t be that easy.” Obuyi rolled off and got to his feet. “Stand up!”
Mackenzie got to his feet. “Why you, Obuyi?”
“When the plagues and wars hit the Caribbean, it was USNORTHCOM that came to our aid. I was six years old. They saved everyone I cared about: my mother and father, my two sisters. They gave us food and medicine, and let us live in Fort Lauderdale. My father found work at the naval base, and I went to school.” Obuyi grabbed him and turned him around. Mackenzie felt the barrel of the pistol touch the back of his neck.
Obuyi leaned close to Mackenzie’s ear. “I owe them everything,” he said quietly. “No selfish Unificationist, no Muslim fanatic, no death dealing cartel is going to triumph over USNORTHCOM. America is the greatest country in the world, and she will prevail. Look there; do you see?”
On the horizon Mackenzie saw some movement: armored vehicles.
“We’re coming. This little camp is about to be overrun. If you want to see your wife again, you’ll tell me what Peters said. Then things will go back to the way they were, except better. You and Margaret will get a nice warm house. You’ll work in the city and be able to go home at night. No more field work.”
Bullshit.
Is this why fate, or the gods, or God, spared him all those years ago. So he could be here at this moment? The two aircraft made another pass, two huge explosions erupting from the top of the knoll. Mackenzie felt the heat on his face more than a hundred meters away. Small arms fire already crackled; he saw white clad figures laying on the ground or behind deadfalls, firing at the approaching column of men and vehicles.
Mackenzie pushed back and quickly stoope
d. He grabbed Obuyi’s legs by reaching between his own and pulled. Both men fell to the ground again.
He heard the pistol shot.
The strength drained from his limbs and the darkness crowded in from the side of his vision.
“You stupid shit!” Obuyi said. Mackenzie felt himself being rolled over. Obuyi kneeled over him and pressed two hands down on his chest.
“I don’t want you to die!” Obuyi cried. “Just tell me what you know!” Mackenzie saw tears in the man’s eyes.
The crackle and pop of small arms fire rose. Mackenzie felt Obuyi stiffen, and blood dripped from the man’s mouth and onto Mackenzie’s face. Obuyi fell over onto the ground.
His own breathing getting shallower and shallower, he closed his eyes and relaxed his body. He thought of his wife, and smiled at the memory of her face.
MACKENZIE opened his eyes. He couldn’t move his head. Above him he only saw something gray. The ceiling of a tent. The air was cold on his face, but his body felt warm. A man’s face appeared above him. The man looked away and spoke French. A moment later Peters appeared.
“You’re alive,” Peters said and smiled. “That’s good.”
Mackenzie felt like he had been kicked by a horse. He tried to speak but only coughed, the pain lancing through his body. “Obuyi?” he croaked.
“He’s dead. I would have liked to talk to him, but he didn’t make it.”
Guilt washed over Mackenzie and the tears rose in his eyes. “I…I…,”
“Rest easy, Mack. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Mackenzie’s sobs subsided after a few moments. “The attack?”
“We knew USNORTHCOM was watching you, but we didn’t know how. We thought maybe they implanted you with a tracking device. But they were cleverer than that. It was Obuyi they were tracking.”
“You beat them?”
Peters smiled. “I lied to you; the offensive started three hours ago. We beat them back because we knew where they were going to be. You led them to us so we could defeat them. But it was not without cost.” Peters looked around the tent. “This is just the beginning, but we think it is the beginning of the end. General Clark is dead.”
Mackenzie realized he had been holding his breath. He exhaled. “It’s over?”
Peters touched Mackenzie’s arm. “It’s over.”
Mackenzie closed his eyes. The screams of Sudbury still haunted him.
Polar Strike: A Tale of the Great Crisis Page 4
