by Jake Bible
“That can’t be good. Not coming from something that has Ballantine behind it.”
“No, sir. I agree with your assessment. Should we disengage, sir?”
“Sure, if you want to be the one that tells Wire we tucked our tail and ran. You want to do that?”
“No, sir, I prefer to keep my genitals intact.”
“Don’t we all. Keep an eye on that power reading and do something about those goddamn torpedoes. Can we disarm from here?”
“Yes, sir. Give me one second.”
***
“And impact!” Ingrid announced. There was no explosion on the video screen as one torpedo connected with the ship’s hull, bouncing off instead of detonating. The second torpedo hit a seam in the ship’s plating and pierced the hull, leaving half of the torpedo sticking out for all to see.
“That’s going to put a wrinkle in their day,” Ingrid said. “Now, what can we do with the two new ones?”
“They destroyed our second set of torpedoes,” Lucy snarled. “Sons of bitches. Switching to this insane plasma cannon. Shooter is gonna shoot.”
Lucy’s station changed as she switched controls over to Moshi’s experimental plasma cannon. Red crosshairs came up and locked onto the ship’s hull. Above water.
“Uh, how am I seeing this?” Lucy asked.
“Micro-periscope,” Moshi said. “Light refracting. No detect.”
“But the cannon is below the surface?” Lucy asked.
“Stop worrying. Fire,” Moshi said.
“If you say so,” Lucy said and double checked her target. “Fire in the hole.”
She squeezed the trigger and a flash appeared on the screen as the Toyshop shook slightly.
“Shit. Thing’s got a kick to it,” Lucy said.
The video screen filled with a red light. There was an even brighter flash then the screen cleared to show the damage done to the ship.
“Holy shit. Give me one of these in a portable form and I swear I will pray at the altar of Moshi forever.”
Moshi giggled.
***
Alarms and klaxons filled the ship’s bridge. Men and women scrambled out of their seats and fled their stations.
“Hold fast!” the captain yelled. “Hold fast, goddammit!”
“Sir, we are taking on water at an alarming rate! We have maybe five minutes before we completely sink!”
“Two more incoming torpedoes, sir! They are both ours and coming straight for us!”
“Disarm them!”
“I can’t, sir! Controls are shot! Everything is shot!”
The man stood up, gave the captain an apologetic look, then ran from the bridge.
The captain slammed his fist down on his chair’s armrest over and over again. Then he slid a panel aside on the armrest and keyed in a specific code.
All alarms and klaxons stopped except for one. Anyone onboard would know exactly what that klaxon meant.
“You get nothing,” the captain said as he stared out into the ocean and at a far-off shape that was slowly coming to the surface.
The captain moved to the helm and altered the ship’s course for a straight on collision with the Toyshop. He pushed the engines into the red. It was a race to get to the Toyshop before the ship self-destructed. The captain had no intention of going down alone.
***
“Not good!” Ingrid cried. “I am picking up a massive energy reading from their engine room as well as from a secondary power source!”
“They’re coming right at us,” Lucy said. “Moshi?”
“Swiss cheese,” Moshi said.
Lucy didn’t need an explanation. She powered up the plasma cannon, locked onto the incoming ship, and fired until the system shut down and wouldn’t let her squeeze the trigger any longer.
Then she leaned back in her seat and watched as the ship quickly sank below the water.
“Swiss cheese,” Lucy said right before the sunken ship self-destructed.
A plume of water shot two hundred meters into the air. A second later, the Toyshop began to rock and bob like it was in the middle of a hurricane.
“Oh…” Ingrid said as she whipped her head to the side and threw up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and frowned at Moshi then Lucy. “Sorry. Adrenaline is a little high. Makes my tummy ooky.”
“Puke away,” Lucy said. “You earned it.”
“We all earned it,” Moshi said.
Slowly, the Toyshop stopped rocking and Moshi stood up. She stretched then left.
“Okay. Nice fighting with ya,” Lucy said.
The com crackled. “Toyshop? Elves? Are you alright?” Kinsey asked over the com.
“We are five by five, Kins,” Lucy replied. “Enemy threat has been eliminated. And, holy shit, we have some new, fun toys to play with.”
“Eliminated? Damn. Can’t wait to hear the sit rep on that. See you all in about thirty minutes. Sit tight.”
“Sitting tight,” Lucy said then clicked off her com and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and glanced at Ingrid. “You good?”
“Getting better,” Ingrid said. Then she puked again.
“When you’re done with that, can you help me get this helmet off?”
Ingrid nodded between retches.
Chapter Twelve: Tour Of Doody
“Another island,” Max said as he stood with the rest of Team Grendel and the crew of the B3 on the deck of the Resurrection. “Whee…”
Saying the rest of the team and crew were standing with Max was a stretch. Most were being held by unarmed guards, in case anyone made a move to get the weapons, while heavily armed guards stood a few meters away while being covered by a handful of snipers from above.
Even Max wasn’t exactly standing tall. His face was battered and bruised and he favored his left leg after an enthusiastic torturer decided to play a sweet African rhythm on his kneecap. With one eye swollen shut like Darren, and looking like it may never open, Max tried to focus on the island they were being taken to. He didn’t like what he saw.
“That’s quite the fence,” Max said. “Everyone seeing that? Gotta be, what? Twenty meters tall?”
“It is a dual fence, if you look closely,” Wire said as she walked up to the group, casual as could be. “Two rows with the inner being, uh…electrified.”
“The inner fence is electrified?” Ballantine asked. “Isn’t that interesting.”
“Ask it,” Wire said.
“Ask what?” Ballantine responded. “I have no question to ask.”
“You want to know what I’m keeping contained inside the fence line,” Wire said. “I know you are dying to hear what it is.”
“Nope,” Ballantine said. “I am good. The inner, and outer, workings of your island are your business, Wire. My business is trying to keep my people alive. Unless we are being thrown inside that fence, I don’t see how it’s relevant.”
“I would sure as fuck like to know what’s in there,” Thorne said. “That fence wrap around the entire island?”
“Yes, Commander Thorne, it does,” Wire said. “As our course changes, and angle of entry into the harbor adjusts, you’ll be able to see that there is a narrow corridor leading from the dock to the center of the island. That is the only pathway in. The safe zone, if you will. Stay in that corridor of safety and you will live. Get inside the fence line and you will not.”
“That doesn’t tell me what’s inside there,” Thorne said. “Or is it all for show? An illusion of danger. You Ballantines are good at creating those.”
“Do not lump me in with my used to be daughter,” Ballantine said. “She’s insane. I am simply a little off.”
“Don’t push your luck, Ballantine,” Wire hissed then returned her attention to Thorne. “I am not going to tell you the exact threat, because that would ruin the surprise, but I will say that no one has survived more than twenty-four hours inside the fence line. No one.”
“She’s not fucking with you,” Sterling said as he joined the gro
up. “A couple of my best operators tried to risk it and never came out. And when I say the best, I mean the best. You’re all highly trained, but they were even better. Never heard from them again.”
“Did you go looking?” Thorne asked.
“You’re not listening,” Sterling said, stepping close to Thorne. He put his face about an inch from Thorne’s face and shook his head. “No one survives inside the fence line. I won’t go in there. You could give me a tank and I still wouldn’t go in there. Eventually, they get you.”
“They?” Thorne asked.
Sterling glanced at Wire and she shook her head.
“Just hope you don’t find out,” Sterling said then turned and faced the island. “We are five minutes from docking. As soon as we drop the gangplank, each of you will walk single file onto the dock and wait patiently while we unload the rest of your sad, little party. Then we march our way to those waiting trucks. See the trucks, people? You will climb inside the trucks and then be taken to the BOP.”
“You call it a base of operations?” Thorne asked. “Why?”
“Because calling it Darla seemed weird, Uncle Vinny,” Shane said.
Max snorted. “Good one.”
“You’re wondering why it isn’t a permanent headquarters,” Wire said to Thorne. “It is, but with the constant threat of those fences coming down, we consider ourselves at the ready at all times. So, calling it a BOP forces us to remember to stay sharp and alert.”
“Try not have something so deadly inside a fence line right next to where you live and maybe you can relax a bit,” Shane said. “Just a suggestion.”
“Yes, Mr. Reynolds, I am obviously the type of person that loves to relax a little,” Wire said.
“Totally,” Shane continued. “I’m guessing you’re a chardonnay and Kenny G kind of gal, right? Maybe you get a little freaky now and then, but you prefer it missionary style with only one finger in the butt. Am I right?”
Wire sighed.
Sterling hit Shane just below his empty eye socket, splitting the skin instantly.
“Thank you,” Wire said. “Mr. Reynolds?”
“Ow,” Shane said and was about to try to wipe at the cut, but the sound of weapons shifting made him pause. “No, it’s cool. I don’t mind bleeding profusely.”
“Mr. Reynolds, please never be crude like that again,” Wire said. “Refer to my sexuality in any way from here on out and I will take your other eye. Then your—”
“Nuts and feed them to me,” Shane said. “We’ve heard the sales pitch already. Learn a new line, will ya?”
“Yeah. You stopped being scary a long time ago,” Max said.
Thorne chuckled. “You wanted to keep them alive…”
“Might I interrupt our exceptionally riveting conversation and ask where Darby is?” Ballantine said. “Will she be brought above decks any time soon? We are pulling into the dock now.”
“Darby is her own special case,” Wire said. “She will remain on this ship for the duration of her stay. As much as I trust the security measures we have in place at the BOP, I am not one hundred percent certain they will keep her contained. I am erring on the side of caution and leaving her on the ship, in her cage, and under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”
“Jeez, I’m going to have to up my dating game,” Max said. “She gets used to that kind of special treatment and dinner at Applebee’s ain’t gonna cut it anymore.”
“Dude, we haven’t seen an Applebee’s since you two hooked up,” Shane said.
“One can dream, bro. One can dream.”
“Applebee’s? Really?” Lake said. “You two are so messed up.”
“Hey, don’t lump me in with him. I don’t want to go to Applebee’s,” Shane said. “That’s trash eating. I’m a Beef O’Brady’s kind of guy. Classy.”
“Permission to kill one of the twins?” Sterling asked.
“No,” Wire said. “We get what we need from them first then you can kill one. Maybe both.”
“We’re not twins,” Max said.
“No way I’d share a womb with that guy,” Shane said. “He’s a covers hog.”
“And he mumbles show tunes in his sleep,” Max said.
“I do not,” Shane said and looked at Wire. “Seventies soft rock only. I don’t do show tunes.”
“Oh, I heard some Andrew Lloyd Weber coming from that trap one night,”
Max said.
“Ah, but that’s crossover,” Shane replied. “He did write some hits that made it onto the radio, you know.”
“Boys. Not now,” Thorne said. “We’re docking. I need you two alert so we can kill these fucking assholes when the moment presents itself.”
“Bold statement to make out loud, Commander Thorne,” Wire said. “I do admire you for that.”
“Go fuck yourself, you crazy bitch,” Thorne said. “You admire that?”
***
“The crazy bitch won’t stop pacing,” a guard said from the corner of the catwalk. “It’s like watching a cat at a zoo.”
“That’s not pacing,” a second guard replied. “She can barely stand up straight and she can’t move her feet more than a couple steps before having to turn around. Pacing is from one side of the cage to the other.”
“Quiet,” a third guard said. “You’re getting comfortable. Don’t. Hill and Wire warned us that the second we get comfortable is the second we are dead.”
The two guards went silent.
Darby heard all of that as she moved her two paces, turned, moved two paces, turned, and repeated the motions over and over again, all while her wrists were manacled tight together to a chain that stretched down to her ankles.
Her cage was still suspended above the others, but there was an added bit of security. The bars had been electrified and Darby could hear the hum coming from the metal as the voltage coursed through the cage. The fact she wasn’t electrocuted by the manacles and chains attached to her body, which were in turn attached to the bottom of the cage, told her quite a lot. The major point it told her was that the manacles and chain connected to her were not made of conductive materials. That was a very good thing.
She stopped and studied her wrists. The manacles looked like they were made of some type of steel alloy, but looks were always deceiving. She tried to bring her wrists to her mouth so she could bite down on one of the manacles and test the strength of the material, but she didn’t have enough play in the chains and only ended up tugging on her ankles instead.
“Hey! What are you doing?” a guard yelled.
Darby paused her study of her restraints and turned her head slowly to find the source of the question. Instead of checking the lower catwalk, she studied the upper catwalk and the many, many snipers that had her in their sights. She didn’t expect one of them to have spoken, but she wanted to take the opportunity to do a head recount.
An even dozen. Each with a minimum of a .300 WinMag pressed to their shoulder. She even saw a couple of Barrett .50 cals. One of those rounds would tear a hole as big as a bowling ball through her body at that range.
“Hey!” the guard yelled again. “Head down and eyes on the floor.”
Darby looked away from the snipers and found the source of the voice on the lower catwalk. The man was close to seven feet tall and had to be over three hundred pounds. He stood there with his M4 pointed directly at her but the stock wasn’t seated tight against his shoulder. The man didn’t take her seriously and Darby smiled at that revelation.
“You think this is funny?” the guard asked. “Head down and eyes on the floor!”
Darby kept smiling and she could see the man’s confidence break for half a second before his machismo was able to regroup.
“Sorry,” Darby said and put her head down and cast her eyes to the floor.
A floor that was meters below the bottom of her cage. It would be quite the jump when the time came. But Darby was ready for it. She doubted any of the guards would be ready for it, though, and that caused her to smile again
.
***
The trucks bounced on the rutted dirt road that formed a straight line between the rows of fencing. The back flaps of the canvas-covered truck were tied to the sides, so Thorne could get a decent look at the area as they passed it. As decent as staring through clouds of dust could be.
“Don’t bother,” Sterling said, seated across the truck from Thorne. “Getting the lay of the land won’t make a difference in the outcome.”
“It will when we have to leave,” Thorne said, slowly turning his head so he could regard Sterling with the full force of his commander’s gaze. “Which will happen. Sooner or later.”
Sterling laughed and shook his head as he looked down at his boots. He nodded a couple times then looked back up at Thorne.
“You know why we have all of you in the back of this truck together?” Sterling asked. “Instead of splitting you up between the other trucks? Do you know why we didn’t divide and conquer?”
“Because you’re an idiot,” Thorne said.
“If only it was that simple,” Sterling said. “That would make your life easier, wouldn’t it? No, Thorne, it’s not because I’m an idiot. Complete opposite, in fact. I have been studying Team Grendel since you first came on the radar. I have watched your flight across the globe and the battles you’ve waged against some incredible opponents, and I have come to the conclusion that when you are separated as a team, you will do anything to get back together.”
“Are you suggesting we’re a bunch of dysfunctional codependents?” Thorne said and chuckled. “Listen, Hill, that defines the entire military system. We’re all codependents.”
“No, I’m suggesting the opposite of that,” Sterling said. “I’m suggesting that you all are so driven to keep each other safe that if we were to put one of you in another truck, that individual would instantly start plotting how to kill the guards and escape so they could come rescue the rest of you. Keep you all together and it lessens the need to be heroes.”
