by Jake Bible
“Oh,” Nigel replied. “How is Wire handling the death of her mother?”
“You know Wire,” Sterling replied. “She doesn’t see, or didn’t see, Dana Ballantine as her mother. The execution was one more thing to check off the list.”
“She does have quite the list, doesn’t she?” Mordecai interrupted. “Do we have a departure estimation yet? There might be some weather moving in and I’d prefer to be away before it reaches us.”
“I’ll ask Wire,” Sterling said. “She’s the only one that knows why we’re here in the first place. I wanted to blow the ship from the start.”
“Yes, we know, Hill,” Mordecai scoffed. “You made that abundantly clear during every briefing we’ve had since leaving port.”
“Have you gone to the…what is it called again?” Nigel asked.
“The Toyshop?” Sterling responded. He paused, narrowing his eyes as he stared off into space. “No, I haven’t tried there yet. Jones? Keep scanning the water. I’m going to do one last sweep and check the workshop these dipshits call the Toyshop. If Kinsey Thorne didn’t jump ship, then she is probably hiding in there.”
“You will want to inform Wire of what you are doing,” Nigel said. “Always best to keep the lady in charge happy and up to date.”
“She ain’t gonna be happy, but I’ll tell her,” Sterling said. “Hill out.”
He killed the com, glad to not have to chat with those two anymore. Wire was all that kept them from each other’s throats. It was an uneasy alliance to say the least.
Sterling pulled a tablet from his belt and studied a schematic of the ship.
“Alright. The Toyshop should be this way,” he muttered.
***
“Did she now,” Wire replied as Sterling reported into her ear. “You are sure?”
“Not sure, but close to sure,” Sterling replied over the com. “I’m going to check the Toyshop now. If she’s not there, then I have to assume she and the doctor made it off the ship.”
“I hate assumptions, but that is a safe one to make,” Wire said. “I’d worry she is hiding, but we both know that won’t make much difference. The Beowulf III is not long for this world.”
Wire smiled as Ballantine raised an eyebrow.
“Keep me posted, Sterling,” Wire said. “Next time you report in, it should be with good news. Understood?”
“Loud and clear,” Sterling said and the com went dead.
“How will you destroy my ship?” Ballantine asked Wire. “Explosives in the engine room? Perhaps a torpedo to the hull? Fire raging through the decks? I am intrigued as to what you have planned.”
“C4,” Wire said. “Good, old-fashioned C4.”
“There’s a lot to be said for C4,” Ballantine said. “Not very elegant, but certainly does the trick when the trick needs doing.”
“You said you would transfer us to your ship. That still true?” Thorne asked. “Or are you planning on leaving a couple of us here to die as a signal to the others not to try anything stupid?”
Wire shrugged. “I’d hate to spoil the surprise.”
“I can hear the gears grinding in your brain, Vincent,” Ballantine said before Thorne could respond. “Commander Thorne was probably going to say something along the lines of how much you sound like me. I do not disagree, but I think we both know that any similarity at this point is purely coincidental. You are singularly your own person.”
“Just be straight with me,” Thorne said, ignoring Ballantine. “No one on this ship deserves to be left to burn to death. Not even Ballantine. It’s a horrible way to go.”
“I appreciate the inclusion in your empathy, Vincent,” Ballantine said.
Wire shrugged again. “We’ll see.” She tapped her ear. “Start moving them to the Resurrection. I want everyone on deck over there and secured in the brig ASAP. Then begin evacuating personnel. Sterling? Let me know when you reach the Toyshop. If I’m right, the item is in there. We will need it before we blow this bucket to Hell.”
There were several replies to her requests. Except for Sterling.
“Sterling? Hill? Do you read me?” Wire asked. Static and feedback filled her com. She grimaced and glared at Ballantine. “What have you done?”
“Moi? I’ve been sitting with you this entire time,” Ballantine replied.
“Dammit,” Wire snapped and stood up. She pointed at the guards in the room. “Bring them. We’re getting off this ship now. He’s got something up his short sleeve. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Bones? Don’t you mean titanium rods and pistons?” Ballantine said.
Wire locked eyes with a guard and the butt of an M4 collided with the back of Ballantine’s head.
“Ow,” Ballantine said before slumping across the conference table.
“Now you have to carry him,” Thorne said. “Good one.”
“Oh, you can help with that, Commander Thorne,” Wire said. “You may still be recovering from that cardiac arrest incident of yours, but I think you’re strong enough to manhandle Ballantine from this ship to my ship.”
“The Resurrection? Is that the name?” Thorne asked.
“It is,” Wired answered.
“Subtle.”
“Nothing about me is subtle.” She pointed at Ballantine. “Considering the genetic abomination I come from, that shouldn’t be surprising.”
“It’s not,” Thorne said as he struggled to get Ballantine up out of the chair.
He draped the unconscious man’s arm across his shoulders and grunted as he basically dragged the not-so-small man towards the doors leading out onto the upper deck. Guards followed close behind and Wire watched them go.
Once the conference room was empty, Wire tried the com again.
“Sterling? Dammit, Hill, where are you?”
No answer.
***
“Wire? Do you copy?” Sterling called into the com as he stood in front of a blank wall. A wall where there should have been a door to the Toyshop according to the schematics. “Wire? I’m not reading you. Can you repeat that last communication?”
The static grew worse and Sterling cursed before disconnecting the com. He’d check in shortly. For the moment, though, he needed to figure out why the Toyshop was not where the Toyshop should have been. He knew for a fact that the schematic was correct. He’d paid a fortune to authenticate it. He prided himself on having solid intel before executing an op.
Except, no Toyshop.
“Wrong deck?” he wondered aloud.
A guard standing at the end of the passageway looked Sterling’s way.
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Sterling said and the guard turned his focus onto anything that wasn’t Sterling Hill.
Sterling grunted and knelt by the bottom of the wall. He searched the seam where wall and floor joined together, but found absolutely nothing there. No hidden catches or signs of a wall sliding to the side to reveal the Toyshop. No signs that anything except for a wall should be there. It was infuriating.
Sterling had had setbacks with ops before, but he’d never completely lost a person or not been able to complete the main objective. That objective being to retrieve a very specific item from the Toyshop before he sent the B3 sinking to the depths of the ocean. His eyes studied the schematic once more before he nearly tossed the tablet down the passageway.
“Fine,” Sterling said. “If they are going to hide the front door, then I’ll simply find the back door. Everything has a back door. Everything.”
“Sir?” the guard at the end of the passageway asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sterling said.
“No, sir, I was going to offer my help,” the guard said. “When we were sweeping the starboard side of this deck, we noticed a shimmer. Everyone thought it was the lighting, but I think it was something else.”
“A shimmer? How will a shimmer help me?” Sterling responded.
“Sir, from what we have been told, this Ballantine guy likes his experimental tech,” the g
uard continued, although he looked like he wanted to turn and flee as Sterling glared at him. “We have cloaking and other similar tech on the Resurrection, so I was wondering if maybe they have something like that here.”
Sterling kicked the wall in front of him. “Cloaking tech doesn’t do this. I’d notice a difference in the surface when touching it.” He kicked it again. “No difference. Nothing unusual. It’s a fucking wall.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said. “But the other wall might not be…?”
Sterling growled and shook his head. “Fine. Show me this other wall.”
The guard nodded and did just that.
***
“He’s gone,” Ingrid said and let out a slow breath. “Phew.”
“We’re completely locked down,” Carlos said. “No caveman idiot like that guy is getting in here. Not while I’m in charge.”
All eyes fell on Carlos. He tried to look tough under the scrutiny, but it only took a couple seconds before he cringed and turned away.
“Someone has to be in charge,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, not you,” Lucy said.
“I’d prefer Boris was in charge over Carlos any day,” Ingrid said.
“Well, thank you, Ingrid. I appreciate your vote of confidence,” Boris said. “But I don’t think leadership is one of my natural skills. However, we should always push ourselves towards new experiences. If all of you would like me to be the leader, then I will gladly step up and take on that challenge.”
“Boris, my friend, I do not believe that is what Ingrid meant by that statement,” Ronald said.
“Oh,” Boris replied. “She was being sarcastic. I get the joke now.”
“No offense, Boris,” Ingrid said.
“What’s going on there?” Lucy asked and pointed to one of the video screens. “He didn’t go away after all. He’s looking for another way in.”
“The back entrance is as secure as the front entrance,” Carlos said smugly.
“Well…” Ingrid said.
“Well, what?” Lucy asked.
“They aren’t getting in here, I’ll say that,” Ingrid said. “But the solid illusion on the rear entrance has been having issues. If they’re persistent, then they may figure out where the opening is. Some well-placed charges and they might be able to breach the Toyshop.”
“They’d blow the whole ship up first,” Carlos said. He walked over and nudged Ingrid to the side, sending the chair she was seated in rolling across the floor and into Ronald’s legs.
“Sorry,” Ingrid said.
“It is not your apology to make,” Ronald said, but to Carlos not Ingrid.
“Whatever,” Carlos said as he typed at a keyboard. “There. See? The explosive force needed to break in here would rip this ship apart. That’s why Ballantine ordered us here. We’re safe even if they find us.”
“And we will blow up the ship anyway ourselves,” Moshi said, popping into the conversation.
Everyone turned to stare at her. A few mouths hung open in confusion and surprise.
“Moshi? What does that mean?” Lucy asked. “Blowing up the ship is not a good idea.”
“It’s the best idea,” Moshi said. “No devices can fall into enemy hands. Ballantine was very clear on that. Very clear.”
“This day gets better every minute,” Carlos said.
***
“Here,” the guard said. “Right here. This is the spot.”
Sterling nodded and studied the wall in front of him. He didn’t see any difference between this wall and the one he’d left.
“It’s another fucking wall,” Sterling said.
“Turn your head like this,” the guard said and gave the wall the side eye. “Peripheral vision seems to work.”
Sterling sighed and turned his head. He looked out of the corner of his eye and gasped. He saw it. The shimmer.
“Nice,” he said. “Good catch. Now…how do we get in there?”
“I don’t know about that, sir,” the guard said. “Maybe if we—”
He stopped speaking as the wall blinked a couple times then was filled with meter high numbers. Numbers that were obviously counting down.
“Five minutes?” Sterling asked. “What the hell happens in five minutes?”
There was a squawk and an ear-piercing burst of feedback.
“Hello? This thing on? Never used the ship-wide PA before,” Carlos’s voice said. “No, shut up, I got this. Okay. Eh hem. Yeah, so we started a countdown. Whoever you are standing there in the passageway, you can report to your boss that we aren’t kidding. You are now looking at about four minutes and thirty seconds before this ship becomes a ball of flame. You’re going to want to evacuate immediately.”
Another burst of feedback and Sterling cringed, bringing his shoulders up to his ears.
“What the fuck?” Sterling growled. “Who is this?”
“That is Carlos,” Wire interrupted over the com. “I know that asshole’s voice anywhere. If he says the ship is going to blow, then the ship is going to blow, Sterling. Have you found Kinsey Thorne yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” Sterling said. “Reports are all decks have been scoured and no sign of her anywhere. She could be inside this damn place with the asshole on the PA.”
“Could be. Doesn’t matter,” Wire replied. “Return to the upper deck. We’re evacuating. I have Ballantine and Team Grendel. That should be enough to get what I want. If not, then Ballantine will watch as I kill each member of his special team. I’ll staple his eyelids open to his forehead. What was that, Ballantine? Jesus, are you awake already? What? No, I won’t use super glue instead. God, I hate you so much.”
“What about the item?” Sterling asked. “I’m down here to find the item.”
“We worry about that later,” Wire said. “Ballantine wouldn’t destroy it. We’ll find it.”
“Hello?” Carlos called over the PA. “Why are you still standing there? This ship is going to blow, dumbass. You should probably run.”
“Go fuck yourself!” Sterling shouted at the wall then nodded at the guard. “Come on. Get above decks so we can get off this shit trap.”
The guard didn’t have to be told twice and took off at a jog down the passageway. Sterling glared at the wall then followed close behind.
***
Ballantine was the last to cross the gangplank. Second to last, since Sterling was right behind him with an augmented hand pressed to the small of Ballantine’s back. He’d been informed that if he tried anything, Sterling would rip his spine out at the base and show it to him before he died. Ballantine had responded that he’d rather not go out that way.
Once Ballantine and Sterling were on the deck of the Resurrection, the gangplank was pulled back and the larger ship began to steam away from the B3.
“Twenty seconds,” a man said as he approached where Wire stood by the ship’s railing. “You may want to take cover, Wire.”
“Thank you, Nigel,” Wire said. “But I am sure I will be fine.”
“Wire. Do not get cocky,” Nigel said.
“Do I need to take cover?” Wire asked, turning to Ballantine.
“Up to you,” Ballantine said as he was shoved towards the spot where what remained of the crew of the Beowulf III stood.
“What are you doing?” Thorne asked.
“What I always do, Vincent,” Ballantine said. “Clip loose threads.”
“We still have people on that ship,” Vincent whispered.
“Do we? Huh. I hope they’ll be alright,” Ballantine whispered back.
“You bastard,” Thorne said.
“Why don’t you two shut up,” Sterling said.
“Don’t tell Uncle Vinny to shut up, man,” Shane said.
“Yeah, no need to be rude, dude,” Max said and laughed. “Rude dude. Rhyme time.”
“It’s always rhyme time,” Shane said. “What else can we rhyme?”
“Boys,” Darby growled. “That man there is going to break your faces with his hands.
His enhanced hands. Look at his eyes.”
The Reynolds brothers leaned forward and squinted.
“Are you wearing contacts?” Max asked Sterling.
“Man, you have super hands and shit, but you didn’t get Lasik?” Shane said. “What the fuck, man?”
“Maybe Lasik wasn’t covered in his health plan, but bionic hands were,” Max said.
Sterling began to pull his sidearm, but he was stopped as the air around the retreating Resurrection became thin and unbearably hot.
“What is that?” Sterling asked.
There was a blinding flash and a silence so pure it was as if sound had never existed. Then the Beowulf III was gone. There was a concussion so powerful that the ship everyone stood on was buffeted to the side and tipped dangerously before it righted itself. The air crackled with electricity and where the B3 had been was a black spot of pure darkness.
Then sound returned and dropped everyone to their knees. A couple of guards cried out and clutched at their heads, blood dripping from out of their ears and between their fingers.
A minute, two minutes, three was how much time passed before anyone dared pull their hands away from the sides of their heads.
“That was impressive,” Ballantine said. “Moshi said it would be, but you never know until you see it.”
“You have no shame,” Wire said as she wriggled a metal finger in her right ear. “You will do anything and everything to spite me. No shame at all.”
“Shame is a wasted emotion,” Ballantine said. He cocked his head. “Is it an emotion? Or a feeling?”
“Aren’t they the same?” Max asked.
“That’s some philosophical shit,” Shane added. “Too bad Ronald can’t answer the question.”
“I’ll miss that hairy philosopher,” Max said. “Godspeed, Bigfoot. Godspeed.”
The Reynolds brothers put their hands over their hearts.
“Yes, boys, lovely sentiment,” Ballantine said and copied them, placing a hand over his heart. “Godspeed, Beowulf. Godspeed.”
“He ever tell you what happened to the first Beowulf?” Wire asked.
