‘This isn’t right,’ he said.
He could hear Lucia slowing her breathing. ‘Denton?’
Damien rubbed his nose. ‘He’s sealed it remotely.’
‘Oh good,’ she said. ‘So if we use our grenades to blow the door, how are we meant to take the reactor offline?’
Damien thought for a moment. He reached out and took the grenade from the pouch on her waist. Conscious of her watching his every move, he kneeled and placed both grenades on the floor by the reinforced door.
‘I’ll have to overheat the reactor,’ he said. ‘My ability. Thermogenesis.’
‘What about radiation poisoning?’
‘I have the Axolotl Chimera vector, you don’t. If anyone gets irradiated it should be me.’
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Lucia said.
Damien paused. ‘I do.’
‘Smells like a swamp down here,’ Lucia said. ‘I don’t like smells.’
Damien rested his stolen MP5 on top of the grenades. ‘I’ll be sure to wear deodorant next time.’ He carefully removed the pins from the grenades while the MP5 kept the spoons in place.
Lucia wrinkled her nose. ‘That would be worse actually. I was diagnosed with hyperosmia. It’s why Denton recruited me—my vomeronasal organ.’ She tapped the bridge of her nose. ‘It actually works. Yours doesn’t.’
Damien sniffed his armpit. ‘You should keep your distance then.’
‘You don’t smell that bad. There are good smells too. Pheromones.’
Damien felt his cheeks flush red as he removed the pin on the last grenade. ‘I thought they didn’t exist.’
She smiled. ‘Oh, they exist alright.’
Damien rose to his feet, satisfied the MP5 was keeping the grenade spoons firmly in place. ‘You should go help Sophia,’ he said. ‘I can do the rest.’
His lips were so dry they peeled from each other like sticky tape whenever he spoke.
‘And the radiation?’ Her raised eyebrow disappeared under the edge of her black bangs.
‘I guess I’ll be careful.’
He knew that was hardly going to convince her.
‘Not careful enough.’ She removed a blister pack from a pouch and popped two capsules. She took his hand and squeezed, forcing it open, then slipped the capsules into his palm. ‘Potassium iodate.’ She closed his fingers over them. ‘For radiation poisoning.’
‘If I’m quick enough,’ he said, ‘I won’t need them.’
She forced a smile and released his hand. ‘Smell ya later.’
***
The elevator was the quickest way down. Jay hit the button and waited. The feeling of having something meaningful to accomplish was pleasant and familiar. He had focus. And he needed focus or else he just ended up restless. It was damn good to do something worthwhile. Especially when he was doing it with Damien. And chicks.
‘Drop your weapon,’ Nasira said.
On second thoughts, he preferred it just with Damien.
Exhaling slowly, he said, ‘Bullets don’t exactly scare me as much as they used to.’
‘They will if they’re about to blow your brains out,’ she said, pistol aimed.
‘Look, if it’s about the sister thing, I’m sorry.’
‘Three rounds to the head,’ she said. ‘Not even a motherfucking salamander can regenerate that.’
‘OK, OK.’ Slowly, he lowered his P226 to the floor.
‘Take five steps back; take off your webbing and radio with one hand. If you go for your pistol, I’ll drop you.’
Jay measured the steps carefully, no sudden movements. When he reached the fifth step, he removed his webbing and radio. Once they hit the floor, Nasira dropped a pair of plasticuffs in front of him.
‘Put them on.’
She wasn’t close enough for him to attack. All he could do was pick up the stupid plasticuffs. He wrapped the nylon cable over both wrists, fed one end through the ratchet on the other. Slowly, he turned to face her. He didn’t hesitate to lock gazes with her. He wanted her to know how pissed off he was.
Nasira stood with legs shoulder-width apart, one slightly forward. A modified Weaver position. Jay felt uneasy knowing he didn’t have his wingman this time. He’d known Nasira for a while now. A few hours. Long enough to know she’d kill him if he gave her good reason.
He held out his wrists. The plasticuffs hung loosely over them. He’d leave it to her to tighten them. If she was stupid enough to come any closer it was her fault really.
She remained where she stood. ‘I’m sure you have some brain cells left. Use your motherfucking teeth.’
Jay forced a smile, then brought his wrists up to his mouth and bit on the pointed tip of the cable. OK, so she wasn’t stupid, but he’d make sure she paid for this. He pulled the tip. The ratchet scraped over the jagged teeth of the cable tie. The plasticuffs were designed so once the tie ran through the ratchet it couldn’t be pulled back. It could only be pulled tighter.
He lowered his wrists, firmly bound.
‘Tighter,’ she said.
‘That’s what she said,’ he mumbled to himself.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ He tightened the plasticuffs until his fingers tingled. ‘Why are you doing this?’
Nasira gestured with her pistol for him to walk. ‘Because I don’t know if you can be trusted. And right now, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.’
From ten feet behind, she gave him instructions. Before he knew it, he was in a public bathroom and she was ordering him to sit between two urinals.
‘For fuck’s sake, I could be helping you!’ he yelled.
She looped another set of plasticuffs around a water pipe. ‘You could also be sabotaging us. Fasten your cuffs to the pipe.’
Jay did as she requested.
Once she was satisfied, she said, ‘How do I get to the auxiliary power station?’
‘Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you screwed me over.’
She leaned in slightly, but not enough that he could use his legs to trap her arm or neck.
‘Don’t talk to me about betrayal,’ she hissed. ‘Your loyalties are indecisive at best. You know what that makes you, big boy?’
‘Definitely a Gemini.’
Nasira ripped off his throat mike and earpiece, then unclipped the radio from his belt. ‘It makes you a piston agent. Shifting loyalties whenever it fucking suits you.’
‘Considering I’m sitting between two urinals, that’s more like a “pissed on” agent, right?’ He smiled.
She flinched, but held still. He’d almost had her. She’d nearly moved into range.
‘Once I reach sub-level three,’ she said, ‘how do I get to the station?’
Jay ground his teeth. ‘I guess you’ll have to work that out for yourself.’
‘That arrogance of yours is such an endearing asset.’
‘Why, thank you. It was either that or get my nipple pierced.’
‘Where’s the station, Jay? It’s really quite fucking simple. Tell me or I make you tell me.’
‘What are you going to do, huh? Torture me? You don’t have the time.’ Jay tried to laugh, but got a lungful of urinal cake odor. ‘And even if you did, I wouldn’t tell you. Sister.’
She shrugged. ‘I can be quite persuasive.’ She pointed her pistol, one of those 007 jobs, at his leg. ‘Give me the directions or I disable your legs.’
Jay breathed in through his nostrils. He stared her down. ‘Let me go now or I disable your head.’
Nasira cocked her pistol.
‘First right. Continue about 200 yards. The door says Auxiliary Power Station.’
Nasira wiped sweat from her forehead. ‘I’d really like to kill you right now, but just in case you’re on our side, I’ll let you live.’
She walked out. Just left him there.
‘You stupid fuck,’ he muttered to himself. ‘You fucking stupid fuck.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sophia found the Vector labs un
guarded. There was one main entrance and it happened to be a bottleneck, flanked with equipment once used to program and torture her as a child. A chill crept across her shoulder blades. She suppressed the urge to shudder.
With one hand securing her P90, she pulled a stolen Blue Beret pistol from her holster, pulled the slide back and put the safety catch on. Cocked and locked. She offered it to Benito. It was a Browning High Power; bulky for close quarters, but it would do.
Benito shook his head.
‘Take it.’ She planted it in his hand.
His fingers closed unwillingly over the grip. She pointed out the safety catch. All he needed to do was take it off and he was ready to fire. He didn’t seem too impressed by that, but didn’t have a choice.
She checked her watch: 04:08.
Four minutes until Denton had the Chimera vector code ready.
Eighteen minutes until the facility was hit by a bunker-buster bomb.
She noticed Benito touching the ring on his wedding finger again.
‘When you were a boy,’ she said, ‘did you ever think you’d end up here?’
Benito laughed. ‘Not in a million years. I wanted to be a rally car driver when I was young.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘I almost did.’
‘Almost?’
‘I actually started. Learned to navigate first. Began working with some of the local drivers. We competed. One driver, Rickson, he taught me how to handle the wheels. He was really talented.’ A smile crept along his face. ‘I got pretty good at it. Thanks to him.’
‘And what happened?’
He snorted. ‘My father told me to get a real job. A real education. So I did.’
‘I see.’
‘He was right in the end. I needed steady money, so I needed a steady job. And so here I am.’ He glanced at her. ‘What did you want to be when—’ He broke off, looked down. ‘Sorry. That was stupid.’
She watched him restlessly slide his wedding ring back and forth from his knuckle.
‘So you settled down, got married?’ she said.
He nodded, but didn’t say anything further.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I’ll get you back to your family.’
He looked at her, covered his glance with a laugh, brief, ironic. His teeth were a dull white, but his smile was somehow calming to her.
She walked away from him, heading for the sliding glass doors. Anyone coming in here would have to come through these doors. She’d spotted a Class D fire extinguisher on the way in and decided to rig it so it would go off when someone entered.
‘You know, I named my daughter after you,’ he called after her.
She laughed, mostly to dispel her tension. ‘Does she know she’s named after a programmed killer?’
‘She’s not with us any more,’ he said. ‘It’s been three years.’
His words were quiet, as if he hoped she hadn’t heard him.
She couldn’t help but think of her parents, then felt selfish.
She stopped halfway to the fire extinguisher. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’
He pushed his glasses up. ‘They were at my sister-in-law’s wedding.’ He removed his wallet and showed her some photos. ‘My flight was grounded because of a blizzard. I never made it.’
Next to a photo of him wearing a helmet and standing beside a rally car, there was a photo of a little girl. Sophia was twenty feet away but she’d recognize that little girl’s face anywhere.
‘Just like now,’ Benito said. ‘Wrong place, wrong time.’
Sophia felt sick. She found herself searching for words as though they’d been spilled across the floor. She could smell the sweet scent of the flowers little Sophia had given her. She wanted to vomit.
The first fracture in her programming had happened that day. The day she’d gone ahead and blown little Sophia up along with everyone else at the wedding reception. She could’ve gone against her programming; the fracture was there. She could’ve snapped out of it. But she didn’t. She took the easy way out. She killed them all.
If they both made it out alive, she promised herself she would tell Benito the truth. He deserved that much.
***
The reaction chamber was rectangular, the center neatly sliced out like an avocado seed. A narrow, metal-meshed walkway arched over the concave space. Nestled within was the reactor, like a pearl, concealed by an ever-present turbine that hummed sweetly over the hair on Damien’s arms. It felt as though the chamber was alive. The air stank of sweat and it took him a moment before he realized it was his own.
He stepped onto the walkway. Something inside his mind needled for attention. He ignored it at first but it persisted: an overwhelming desire to leave the chamber immediately.
He crossed the walkway carefully, his gaze fixed on the dome of fire below. He knew he shouldn’t be here. But there was no other option. He’d committed to it now.
A small part of him was unsettled by the choices he’d made. Was Sophia on the right side? They’d killed Blue Berets to get inside the facility. Surely that wasn’t right. But neither were half the operations he’d been assigned to. The people he’d killed. He had no sense of knowing who was innocent and who was guilty. And did the guilty deserve his death-dealing? What did he deserve?
In the center of the walkway, a ladder descended to the reactor. Damien climbed down until he was standing before the reactor itself. He noticed the circuitry that regulated the coolant temperature. He placed his hand over it and focused. Enough with the pseudogenes; it was time to use his innate ability.
Warmth spread down his arm, through his palm. It was an odd sensation: a tingle that was both warm and cool at the same time. He pulled his hand away when he smelled something burning. He’d fried the circuitry. Just like he’d fried Ernesto in the olive grove.
He climbed back up to the walkway. Footsteps in the corridor outside, feather-light but sure.
From the clinging darkness, a figure emerged. A shocktrooper. Damien took no comfort in recalling that shocktroopers always traveled in pairs. As if to confirm his thought, a second shocktrooper peeled away from behind the first. Both silent as cats. And, judging by the shape of their silhouettes, female.
Fear leaped from his stomach, forcing bile up the back of his throat. He made no effort to reach for the MP5 slung over his shoulder or the P229 holstered on his thigh. He retreated along the walkway, drawing the shocktroopers in.
The first plotted a path directly towards him, stepping onto the walkway, while the second one circled the reactor to block him from the other side. A sliver of light revealed the first shocktrooper’s face. It was Grace.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jay’s arms hung above him, fastened to the water pipe. Yep, it didn’t get any better than this. What if a shocktrooper or Blue Beret walked in right now? There was nothing he could do to stop them putting a round between his eyes. They could just wander in to relieve themselves and he’d be screwed. What was he going to do: offer to shake it for them when they’re done?
With his back against the wall, he bent his knees one after the other and inched his way into a crouch. He turned to face the wall, but only made it halfway. The plasticuffs cut into his skin. He grunted in pain. If he wasn’t tied to the pipe, he could’ve used the 550 paracord he'd laced his boots with as a friction saw to melt right through the plasticuffs’ polycarbonate resin in seconds. Or if he had a knife.
He tried to raise his hands up and pull them down hard on his body. The force of his wrists striking his ribs would snap the plasticuffs. Problem was, his arms were cuffed too high above his head. Another option would be to remove a bobby pin from his belt and shimmy the cuffs off. Kind of hard to do with your teeth. He should’ve had another means of escape, but being tied to a urinal wasn’t exactly something he’d anticipated.
Hell, this whole shit-fuck wasn’t something he’d anticipated. Lucia was probably going to slot Damien. Why not? Damien’s worth
had expired, just like his own. Jay shook his head. There was Damien worrying about Denton screwing them over. And it turned out to be Nasira. That Sun Tzu guy had it right: deception was the art of war. And he’d been deceived like . . . well, like someone being deceived. Now he was basically useless.
What he couldn’t understand was why Nasira had left him alive. Did she want him to suffer the embarrassment of being beaten by a girl? At least until he was vaporized by a missile, anyway.
He couldn’t save Damien. He couldn’t even save his own brother all those years ago. His mind rolled back through everything significant in his life, only to find there wasn’t much. God, he was pathetic. It made him feel empty just thinking about it, so he stopped. Not much point doing anything really. He just sat there feeling sorry for his nondescript canvas of a life. It was all shit.
He had no idea why, but his eyes were filling with tears. He rubbed his face on his arms before any could escape. He pressed his teeth together. His fingers closed into fists. The thought of the pointlessness of everything made him angry. At what, he hadn’t a clue. But it burned inside.
‘Right, so I’m just going to sit here and wait to die?’ He laughed. ‘Fuck that.’
He pulled himself to his feet and his bound wrists dropped to the right side of his chest. He tested the plasticuffs against the pipe. Nasira had pulled them tight. They had nowhere to go but tighter. He took a few deep breaths. Calm. Think. Something sharp.
His eyes ran across the pipe to the left and then the right. There was nothing that immediately drew his attention.
No, wait.
There was a slight protrusion on the right side of the pipe. He ran his wrists along the pipe, stepped around the next urinal. But the cuffs hit a bracket and refused to go any further. Swearing, he kicked the ceramic urinal. It disconnected from the wall and smashed at his feet. He stared at it, surprised it had been mounted so poorly.
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