“Gaps,” Emma groaned. “You guys are obsessed with gaps.” She paused. “Wait—why haven’t you caught one? Your field teams aren’t that bad.”
“The creatures are tagged. The Spetsnaz always beat us to it. We hoped you could track them faster.”
“Always?” Crozier repeated. “How many of these things are loose?”
“Who knows?” He paused. “They’ve caught nine we know of.”
“Jesus.” Emma tossed the scalpel onto the bench. “How many people have died while you fumbled around trying to catch one?”
“Yeah, you go ahead and look down from the moral high ground,” Bob snapped. “Nice view up there? While you do that, we’re winning the Cold War. We’ve used the Mujahedeen to give the Russians their Vietnam.”
“Wait.” Lilli frowned. “I went through everything with Jordan. There aren’t any tracking devices in them.”
“There must be.” He twisted to look at the bodies. “I’ll show you.”
“Let him up,” Emma said, motioning them forward. “Do I need to give you a speech, Bob?”
“No,” he replied, watching Lilli release the straps. After zipping his fly, he rolled off the table and crossed to the nearest body. “Here, according to our source,” he said, jabbing the creature’s left side.
“There was nothing on the X-rays,” Lilli said. Looking tired, she closed her eyes.
“Let’s find out.” Grabbing a scalpel, Crozier cut into the flesh, but his surgery revealed nothing.
“Give me that.” Bob resumed the exploration, but found nothing either. “I don’t get it. They should all be tagged. Maybe that’s why they’re escaping.”
“Didn’t escape,” Lilli slurred.
Crozier looked up. She was standing there with her eyes shut, swaying like a drunk. When she opened them, the sclera had gone pink, her blood vessels overloaded.
“Lilli!” Catching her as she wobbled, he guided her to sit.
“Sorry. Thinking too hard. It was sort of like a dream.”
Worried, Crozier glanced at Emma, but her expression was inscrutable.
“These didn’t escape.” Lilli took several deep breaths before continuing. “The Spetsnaz would’ve got them by now, tagged or not.”
“What’s she talking about?” Bob said.
“Oh, God.” Leaning on her cane, Emma sat down.
“She means it’s contagious,” Crozier said, still catching up himself. Able to make such sideways intuitive leaps, it was no wonder she was unbeatable at chess. “They’re not tagged because these didn’t come from Russia…” Looking at the bodies, he joined the final dots. “Those survivors from Tora Bora that went AWOL? I think we’re looking at two of them.”
“Come on…that’s…that’s impossible.”
“You wondered how they were getting here,” Emma said. “Now you know. You brought them.”
“It’s impossible,” Bob persisted. “There are nearly three hundred people at Ojhri. I’ve spoken to them.”
“Ojhri?” Emma shook her head.
“The army base in Rawalpindi,” Crozier said. “It’s the staging post for Operation Cyclone.”
“That’s highly classified. How—”
“My grandmother has heard of Cyclone,” he scoffed.
“When did you last speak to them?” Emma asked quietly. “Exactly when?”
“Uh—two days ago. But everything was normal.”
“Try to raise them.” She pointed at the phone. “Now.”
“Talk to me,” Crozier shouted, hanging out of the helicopter.
Surrounded by a thick belt of trees, Ojhri camp was invisible at street level. Even from above, it looked like nothing more than an industrial area adjacent to the Islamabad expressway.
“Nothing,” Lilli replied, turning away from the co-pilot. “Site’s gone dark.”
“Alright, we go.” Crozier looked at his watch. Ten-thirty A.M. They were going in exhausted, under pressure and with little intelligence. It was the worst kind of operation, but they had no choice. At least they had proper guns this time, he thought, hefting his custom-built carbine. He looked at Bob. “You up for this?”
“Let’s do it.”
Fast-roping from the chopper, they dropped behind a pair of outbuildings on the western perimeter. A mile away, two other teams dropped into the foliage along the eastern fence.
“What’s that?” Bob asked, watching Crozier set a timer on his watch.
“Zero hour. If we don’t call in, the Bikini protocol takes effect. If this place wasn’t surrounded by houses, Emma would’ve done it already.”
“I assume we’re talking the atoll rather than the beachwear?” Deciphering the reference, Bob turned white. “You didn’t think it worth mentioning earlier?”
“Not getting the facts is a bitch, ain’t it?”
“Point taken,” he conceded. “You guys have nuclear clearance?”
“We borrowed some miniature devices from Russia.”
“You’ve got a suitcase nuke?” Bob followed him through the bushes. “Our technical division would love to see that.”
“Let me guess,” Lilli said, “You have a luggage gap? The Russians have a ten year lead in satchel technology?”
Grinning, Bob looked behind them.
Whilst he watched their rear, Crozier watched him. He still didn’t trust the man, but he was the only guide available.
Moving fast, they swept the first two buildings. The first housed generators, the second was filled with junk, but neither was occupied. Staying low, they ran to the nearest warehouse. It housed a collection of eastern-bloc vehicles, most of them sporting damage.
“Training mules,” Bob whispered. “We teach them sabotage.”
“Right.” Crozier took the chance to hail the other teams, but they reported no contact.
“Nobody home?” Lilli ventured, peering through a window.
“Someone should have seen us by now,” Bob said.
“Come on.” Crozier sighed. No news was not good news, and there was no point pretending otherwise. “Let’s try the barracks.”
Staggering their advance, they dashed across the open ground.
“Cover me.” Bob opened the door, but went no further. “Jesus Christ…”
Crozier pushed past. The dormitory looked like an abattoir. Even worse, it smelled like one. Several men were down. It was difficult to tell exactly how many. A torso with just one arm attached lay beside a bunk bed. A leg rested against a table, but the rest of the body was missing. Disturbed, flies buzzed from the torn flesh.
“Where is it?” Bob asked, keeping his gun up.
“This isn’t fresh,” Lilli said, gesturing at blood-soaked sheets. The stains were already a rusty brown. “They keep killing.”
“It’ll have moved on,” Crozier agreed. “You said there were hundreds of people.” He looked at Bob. “Where are they?”
“Main building, maybe?”
“We’re short on time.” He glanced at his watch again. “Let’s do it.”
Another short run took them to the main buildings. Bypassing the large cargo doors, they found a side entrance.
Heading in, Crozier found himself looking down the barrel of a Gatling gun. Glimpsing a monstrous shape in the dark behind, he almost fired before his eyes resolved the image. A wrecked Mi-24 assault helicopter stood on the concrete.
“Hey,” Bob whispered. “I need to see, even if you two don’t.”
“Agreed.” Crozier searched for a switch, but as he ran his hand along the wall, the fluorescent tubes above them blinked into life.
“Got it. Wow,” Lilli murmured. “This place is an arms dealer’s dream.”
Pallet racks carried everything from small arms to anti-aircraft guns. Smaller rooms functioned as magazines, piled high with ammunition.
“No time for shopping,” Crozier whispered. “Come on.”
Moving deeper into the complex, they passed stocks of high-tech kit. Anti-tank weapons filled an entire sect
ion. They passed crates of Stinger man-portable missiles.
“Check this out,” Lilli said, pointing.
A thick smear of blood ran down the corridor. Lifting their rifles, they followed the crimson trail through a doorway.
“More dead,” Bob whispered.
People were strewn across the room, but unlike those in the dormitory, their injuries looked relatively minor. All had been bitten or clawed, but they were intact.
“No. They’re alive,” Lilli observed, moving amongst them.
“Maybe they tried to hole up in here?” Bob suggested.
“No.” Crozier followed the bloody streaks to a man near the door. “Someone bought them here. You were right, Lilli. Look.”
A deep gash crossed the man’s shoulder. The skin around it was ashen grey, fissured like that of the bauks, the darkened area extending up his neck. It was spreading.
“So they don’t kill each other after infection. Maybe…” She whirled toward the corridor. “Something’s coming.”
They spread out, taking aim through the door.
“Crozier…” she began.
“I know.” Lives were closing in around them, too many to separate. They were surrounded. Feeling energy build, Crozier expected a massed charge, but got the opposite. Slow, uneven footsteps sounded in the corridor.
A Pakistani soldier appeared in the doorway, dragging an unconscious man behind him.
“Wait! He’s the liaison officer,” Bob said. “Farooq, what…” He abandoned the question as the man turned to face them.
Farooq must have been wounded on his left side. Whereas his right looked normal, the other half of his body was twisted, deformed. Small horns protruded from his skull, presumably the beginnings of the antler-growths. He began to speak, but it was gibberish. No words were recognizable.
Looking past him, Crozier saw movement in the corridor. Bauks, fully-formed, were moving up. It was a trap.
“Lilli?” Crozier said. Although the man’s language skills were probably gone, he hedged his bets by switching to the Italian she’d taught him. “Sparare.”
Whatever else he’d lost, Farooq’s reflexes were apparently fine; Lilli’s rounds thumped into the doorframe as he hurled himself back.
His retreat seemed to be the attack signal. A bauk sprang forward, but met a triple salvo. It collapsed under the sheer volume of fire. They repeated the tactic on a second, and a third.
Crozier was so focused on the corridor he almost failed to notice the movement behind. Turning, he found two men rising. Rapid firing, he cut them down, but others began to stir. They couldn’t stay.
“Lilli, is there a way through them?” he asked, reloading.
“I don’t know.”
“We’re going?” Bob yelled, firing through the doorway.
“We go now or not at all,” Crozier snapped. “Ready?”
Staying tight, they advanced into the corridor. Their enemies delayed just long enough for Crozier to wonder if they were giving up. Then they attacked.
Three men charged them. Softer targets, they fell easily, but a bauk used them as cover, closing in. Crozier scored five hits to the chest, but somehow it kept coming, just forgot to die. He ducked as the creature swiped at him. Claws ploughed four furrows into the wall above his head. Screeching, it reared up for another strike, but Lilli fired into the neck point blank. They were moving before it hit the floor.
Expecting attack, Crozier kept his gun up, but it never came. As they advanced, the creatures fell back toward the warehouse.
“What are they doing?” Bob wondered.
“Son of a bitch,” Crozier breathed, watching them dart about. Their humanity was gone, but the skills forged fighting the Soviets were intact. “They don’t want to be in enfilade—they know the corridor is no good.”
The creatures spread out as they reached the main warehouse, but instead of attacking, they sought cover. Their numbers seemed limited, and that thought raised a terrifying question. Was this a rearguard action? Crozier got his answer a moment later.
“Contact!” Rajiv’s voice came over the radio. “They’re outside, going for the fence!” The rest of his transmission was drowned out by gunfire.
Ordering him to hold the line, Crozier joined the others behind a forklift truck. Although the enemy was unarmed, taking cover felt right. Ahead of them, the creatures continued to disperse.
“They’re nearly ready,” Lilli said. Taking aim, she picked off a bauk with a headshot. When she turned back, Crozier saw his own thoughts reflected. They couldn’t hold this many, not here.
Another bauk ran at them, but Bob took it down.
Farooq reappeared near the cargo doors. He seemed to have enough intelligence left to direct the creatures. Crozier fired, but the man dived behind a crate. His shot passed into the room behind, smacking into a pile of demolition charges.
Rising, Farooq screamed something lost on human ears. Breaking cover, the bauks advanced.
Working in concert, they repelled the attack, but were spending time they didn’t have. As he killed a bauk climbing up a pallet rack, Crozier saw more of the creatures exit through a side door.
Beside him, Bob raked a row of crates with fire. The mutated men behind them fell, but others moved up, preparing to charge.
“Last clip,” Lilli announced, reloading.
“Ditto.” Doing likewise, Crozier looked for an alternative, but everything close by was heavy ordnance…they were surrounded by weapons they couldn’t use. Or perhaps they could, he thought, looking over his shoulder. It was probably suicide, but they were out of options.
Taking aim, he emptied his clip into the explosives store behind Farooq. The rounds could never trigger the charges, but the plywood crates ruptured.
“Hold them,” Crozier yelled, grabbing one of the Stinger cases from the stack behind. Working fast, he unpacked a missile and inserted the battery pack. After disabling the safety, he set the warhead to dumb-fire.
“Get ready,” he warned, balancing the heavy device on his shoulder.
Beside him, Lilli’s carbine ran dry. She drew her pistol.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Bob screamed, firing.
“Probably.” Crozier squeezed the trigger, launching the world’s most expensive detonator at the compound-four. “Down!”
Despite clamping a hand across his face as he rolled to the floor, Crozier saw the white flash of the explosion through his eyelids. A moment later the shockwave hit them, a scorching blast that ripped the air from his lungs.
Unable to form any conscious thought, he lay motionless until instinct asserted itself. Get up or die, it warned. Coughing, he sat up. He checked himself over. Amazingly, there seemed to be no serious injuries.
Blinking, Crozier tried to clear his vision before realizing that wasn’t the problem. It was sunlight streaming through the dust, not an after-image. The entire western end of the building had collapsed.
Groaning, Bob rolled over beside him.
Where was Lilli? Scrabbling about in the wreckage, he was close to panic when he heard movement. Cursing in Italian, she emerged from beneath a pile of smashed crates.
“Did we finish it?” she asked, cradling her arm.
Crozier looked around. The few bauks visible amongst the rubble were either dead or dying. There was no sign of Farooq. Close to the blast, the man would have been reduced to atoms. What about Rajiv? Crozier found his radio smashed, but heavy gunfire from west of their position broadcast an unwelcome update.
“Apparently not,” he replied, requisitioning fresh weapons from a pallet.
They made for the nearest available exit, but found their path blocked by fire. Amongst the stores, something hissed as pressure began to build.
“Back!” Bob yelled.
Another explosion shook the warehouse as they retreated.
“I was afraid of this,” he gasped. “This whole place could go up. Come on.” He took point, leading them deeper into the building. “This way,” h
e said, guiding them through a maze of storerooms. Cutting through an office suite, Bob stopped at a double door. Gunfire sounded on the other side. “Ready?”
“Do it.” Crozier nodded.
An inch of cheap wood separated order from chaos. Bauks, humans and creatures halfway between lay dead in the loading bay, but even more were advancing toward the fence. Rajiv’s team had held them back, but it couldn’t last. Only two guns were still in action, and with plenty of crates and equipment as cover, they were creeping ever closer.
Gauging their number, Crozier abandoned any idea of ambushing them. There were over a hundred. The warehouse contained enough kit to kill them ten times over, but the creatures would breach the fence at any moment.
“We need to take this place down,” he whispered, retreating back into the corridor.
“It’s going down already!” Bob gasped, as another explosion came from behind them.
“Not fast enough.” Crozier shook his head. “How do we speed it up?”
“The central magazine,” he replied, after a moment. “Those storerooms we passed? The artillery rockets are in there.”
“Fine. We’ll rig it. Where’s the timing gear?”
“Up in smoke. It was stored near the demo charges.”
Crozier opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. He could probably fashion some kind of fuse, but they had so little time.
Then they had even less.
Bauks appeared at the far end of the corridor. Herded toward them by the unfolding destruction, they were trying to escape.
“Look out!” Lilli warned, firing.
The creatures stopped, seeking cover, but now the route back to the magazine was blocked.
The three of them looked at each other in silence. The creatures could not be allowed out, and there was no time to find an alternative. Someone would have to act as the trigger.
“Alright,” Bob said, reloading. “This is our mess. We’ll clean it up. You two go.”
Surprised, Crozier was staring at him when Lilli spoke.
“No. I’ll stay.”
“What?” Crozier gasped. “No!”
“It has to be me.” She hesitated. “I think they’ll let me through.” Lilli pulled off her glove, revealing dark grey skin.
Use Enough Gun (Legends of the Monster Hunter Book 3) Page 10
