Code Name: Bundle!

by Christina Skye

  “Hurts like hell. I’ve lost a little blood.” Trace took a breath and grimaced. “I can still back you up. Say the word.”

  “The only word I’m saying to you is rest.”

  “But—”

  “That’s an order, O’Halloran.” Wolfe sprinted back toward the gaping hole, playing out rope until he came to the spot where he’d left Max.

  Preston, where are you?

  No answer.

  Scowling, he tossed the rope over the edge and rappelled down. More dirt had fallen, mounded several feet high, and footsteps led across the soft earth toward the half-hidden door.

  The door was open and Max was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  MAX FELT THE THREAD of contact break. Cruz was making this into a game, complete with taunting and trickery and threats. He’d always loved being tested and testing back.

  The trees vanished over Max’s head, and suddenly he was inside a tunnel beneath dim lights running along a low ceiling. The whine of generators seemed real, but Max knew that creating unshakable illusions was one of Cruz’s oldest skills.

  If Cruz wanted to play a game, Max would oblige him.

  He rounded a turn cautiously and was hit by the pungent smell of animals from a narrow room lined by cages. Medical books and dissecting equipment were lit by high-wattage halogen lights, and Max saw refrigerators, microscopes and centrifuges similar to those in the Foxfire labs.

  This was more than a simple storage area. Cruz was carrying on Ryker’s research. The thought left Max very uneasy.

  He watched a pair of lemurs swing from perch to perch in a high cage. Both appeared healthy and well fed, but agitated. Max picked up a black notebook on a shelf and flipped through the creased pages.

  September 21—continued to check implantation problems.

  September 25—sacrificed test animal.

  October 1—muscle pattern control successful

  All in all Max found records for twenty-six animals used in tests with various chip configurations, including full behavioral results.

  Interesting, isn’t it?

  Cruz appeared in the doorway with an Uzi over one arm. Not an image this time, Max thought. The energy trail was too clear for that.

  “Starting your own lab, Cruz? I thought you had enough of that at Los Alamos.”

  “I’m using what Ryker taught me, only driving in a new direction. I want his ability to shift chips once they’re implanted. You saw that firsthand. How does it feel when they start moving inside you?”

  Like hell, Max thought. He shrugged. “Why, so you can control us? If so, think again.”

  “I planned every step of this, and that bothers you. I knew Ryker would send someone once I unshielded the weapon area for his satellite. Face it—I’m ten steps ahead of you.”

  “What do you want from me, Cruz? Absolution or loyalty? Because I’m no priest and you’re sure as hell no friend.”

  “What I want is for you to open your eyes. Do you think they’ll let you have any say about your life? Do you think you can have any time with the woman after you leave this island? It’s a dream. You’ll walk away because they’ll order you to.”

  Max tossed the notebook from one hand to the other, ready to move when he saw a break. “Maybe, maybe not. Now I get a question. Where did you hide the inertial weapon system?” he said coldly.

  “Ryker whistles and you jump. Nice job they did on you. But there are too many things you don’t know about the program, things that Ryker never plans to tell any of you. I’m going to enjoy watching your face when I show you his encrypted files. Then I’m going to drive your chips out your neck while you scream.”

  Max’s lips curved. “You really know how to throw a party, Cruz.”

  “Tough talk. You won’t be tough when four pieces of silicon slice through your spine.”

  Max was pretty sure Cruz was right, but he wasn’t going to dwell on the possibilities. “You’re not going anywhere. The whole team is on the ground right now, combing the jungle. You can’t hide from all of us.”

  “I’m not interested in the rest of the team. Right now I’m only interested in you. Have you read your latest medical files closely?” Cruz held up a computer disk, his eyes locking with Max’s. “I mean your real file, the private one Ryker doesn’t want you to see. Remember what happened during the surgery after your training accident?”

  “Broken bones. Kidney problems. Big deal.”

  “What about your partner?”

  Max shied away from the memories and what he had been told about that long ordeal. “Drake died in transit to the hospital.”

  “Not true. Your partner was alive but in bad shape, dying on the operating table. Ryker didn’t want to wait around, so they harvested his organs before they let him go—spleen, kidney and part of both tibias. You know where they went, don’t you?”

  Cold fingers crawled up Max’s neck. “Not interested.”

  “You should be. They gave them to you, Preston. Ryker’s medical experts decided you were more viable, and he had them pull the life support on Drake, but only after they’d taken any organs you might need. I saw your real files. You were side by side on two different operating tables that night. Ryker called the shots and let Drake die.”

  Max felt sick, and his uncertainty made him sicker. Why was he listening to a word from this traitor unless part of him had wondered all along? “I don’t believe it. And if you want my chips, you’ll have to take them out of my dead body.”

  “I expected you’d feel that way. Let’s say you’ll be my first living human test animal.” Cruz raised the same little device he’d held in his tent, and pressed its switch. Instantly Max was swimming in pain, his nerves on fire, hammered by sharp movements beneath his skin, under his collarbone, along his spine. His chips were migrating just the way Cruz had described.

  But Max hadn’t come this far without backup scenarios. Wolfe and Trace would be coming after him shortly, and even the techno genius, Izzy Teague, had insisted on being part of the final op. His electronic tracking skills were second to none.

  He grimaced, feeling a chip work upward past his collarbone and pierce the dermal layer, blood trickling over his shirt. The pain nearly blinded him, but he forced his mind to remain focused. “What about you, Cruz? You’re having problems replacing your nutrients, and your body’s burning too much energy at a constant temperature of 103. You’re not sleeping, either.”

  Cruz’s eyes narrowed. “You determined that from a few seconds of contact? That’s very impressive. I’m going to enjoy those new chips of yours.”

  “What would you give me for a complete hormone assessment so you can replace everything you need? Your body will stop degenerating. That pain in your back will stop, too.” Max smiled at the shock in Cruz’s eyes. “What do you say?”

  “What’s your price?”

  “You answer one question. I want to know what else you did to Miki Fortune. If you went to the trouble to insert one chip, I figure you didn’t stop there.”

  “Busted.” Cruz’s laugh was a cold, reckless sound. “It’s nothing she’ll feel for a few months. Let’s just say the woman you fell in love with—the woman you were screwing blind back in that bunker—has turned into my walking weapon. I control the detonator, the place, the time. When I choose, she’ll go off. You’ll understand if I don’t disclose the details.”

  Max closed his hands to fists, battered by fury. Was this one more test by Cruz or was it real?

  He couldn’t risk Miki’s life on a vague hope. “How did you manage it so fast?”

  “Remember when Houston was in Santa Fe? Thanks to my contact there, I was experimenting with a few things I stole from Ryker’s lab. Ryker was ready to test a new procedure on me, so I had to escape. I don’t suppose he told you about that part of his plans, either.”

  Max looked at the caged animals and tried to dismiss this as another sign of Cruz’s paranoia, but something rang true. There had been hints that Ryker and h
is lab team were working on wireless remote devices at Los Alamos, and the question was when, not if they would be available. “No biomedical chip with wireless activation could remain hidden from us. We would have picked up the energy sooner or later.”

  “You wouldn’t have known where to look. It was only partially mechanical. For the rest, Ryker was experimenting with—” Cruz stopped suddenly. His eyes hardened. “I’ve told you enough. Now I’ll ask you once more, and it’s the last chance you’ll get. Do you join me or do you prefer the unpleasant experience of your chips migrating out your spine and through the back of your neck?”

  Max felt a clawing attack of pain, followed by crippling spasms at his back, a demonstration of what would come next if he said no.

  Preston, where the hell are you?

  About time. Max sent back an instant answer to Wolfe’s mental probe. I’m at the end of the tunnel marked E, in some kind of lab Cruz has down here. He’s armed, and our discussion time is just about over. You might want to pick up the pace or I’ll be the guy you find twitching on the floor in his own blood.

  On the way. Knock something over so I can figure out how far away you are.

  Max leaned against the wall, his body hunched as he summoned up the picture of a man caught in overwhelming pain. “No more, Cruz.” His voice was a low rasp. He stumbled, knocking a pile of beakers to the floor, where they smashed in a rain of glass. In a cage nearby the lemurs were howling and a dozen white mice darted in jerky circles while a lone parrot threw its body against the walls of its cage again and again, as if oblivious to its pain.

  “Time’s up, Preston. Make the choice. Let go of Ryker or let go of this slavery you call life.”

  Max knew if his chips moved much farther he would have serious tissue damage and death would come soon after that. But thanks to his physical contact with Cruz, he knew that Cruz had a pinched sciatic nerve and nerve damage in his right hand, resulting in slower response time.

  Max pulled Miki’s torn shrug out of his vest. He’d managed to snatch part of it amid the chaos at camp. It had negative affects on him, so he prayed it would affect Cruz the same way.

  Max tossed the shrug at Cruz’s head, dived under a lab table and scuttled for the adjoining room, ignoring the Uzi fire that drilled the floor after him. Houston, did you hear that? Cruz is getting nasty in here. Hurrying up would be good.

  Almost there.

  Max kicked over a huge metal cabinet and dove around the corner a split second before Cruz stitched a line of bullets across the tiles. Unholstering his Sig, he took cover next to a rolling cart full of test tubes.

  When Cruz appeared he looked pale and shaken, the shrug dropped on the floor behind him. Max’s assessment of the animal fiber had been right.

  Point to remember for Ryker.

  Preston, get the hell out of there. I’m twenty feet down the hall to your right. You head left and we’ll run a pincer movement on him.

  Copy. Max sent the silent answer as he ran to the next room and crouched out of sight, lining his Sig on the spot where Cruz would appear.

  But the shadows didn’t move. There was no noise in the hall.

  You see him? Wolfe shot back.

  Not from here.

  Watch your back. There may be another door to the room.

  Silence. Max heard the loud drumming of his heart.

  Footsteps pounded in the opposite direction, echoing hollowly in the underground corridor, and the two men sprinted toward the noise, weapons drawn.

  They were surprised to see Truman emerge from a side corridor, followed by Izzy.

  “What happened?” Max asked curtly.

  “Dakota’s up there with Miki. She kept telling me there was something strange about the shape of one of the bricks on the ground beneath the tent, and when she touched it, a tunnel opened up. The woman’s got eyes all right.” Izzy kept moving, checking the nearby rooms. “Where’s Cruz?”

  “Straight ahead of us, judging by the noise.”

  The Lab shot in front of Max, his muzzle raised as the footsteps echoed in the opposite direction.

  “Truman, move out. We have to go.”

  The dog turned, his body rigid, blocking their way. He slammed his head against Max’s leg, driving him back toward the corridor they had just left.

  This time Max didn’t say a word. Truman was too well trained to react by mistake. Something had to be wrong. As the dog continued to bump his leg, the men sprinted back toward the door at the site of the cave-in.

  Wolfe?

  The rope’s still there. You two go up first. One of you will have to carry Truman. I’ll stay here to clean up.

  Like hell, Max thought. They were all getting out of this alive. He sniffed, picking up sulphur and the acrid smell of smoke as he turned a corner. The door was only a few feet away when a fireball burst along the corridor behind him.

  He hit the door and the three men dove through inches ahead of the flames, Truman in front. As they scrambled for the rope, Max grabbed the dog and motioned Izzy up ahead of him. Cruz must have used a flamethrower, Max thought. But where was he now?

  When Izzy was up, Wolfe gestured to Max, who pulled his way up one-handed with the dog cradled against his chest. Dirt rained down from a second fireball as Wolfe cleared the edge. They immediately ran for the beach, alerting the rest of the team to stay on watch for Cruz.

  Max felt the spike of adrenaline amplifying the pain at his spine. An explosion rocked the ground behind him and the whole slope fell in, burying the tunnels and Cruz’s hidden lab.

  He stopped to look back, reading the scent on the air and the debris carried from the explosion. As the grass whipped around him, he saw a chopper rise above the trees. Cruz was inside next to a man in a camouflage uniform.

  The clock’s ticking, Preston. Who will it be next? Who can you trust?

  Wolfe, Max called. On your six.

  Got him. The Foxfire team leader was already shouldering a missile launcher and turning to follow the chopper as it thundered over their heads. Max felt a wave of dizziness hit him courtesy of Cruz, but he managed to keep moving.

  Wolfe’s rocket hissed free, struck the chopper and exploded. The back propeller was hit and the aircraft spiraled out of control, losing altitude fast. Wolfe took a second shot and this one hit dead center, debris hurtling over the beach. Fire mushroomed up as the fuel tanks exploded and the air filled with orange-yellow fury.

  When the flames finally burned out, pieces of metal still hissed past Max like lethal hail. It was over, he thought, looking at the bits of twisted metal scattered over the ground. There was no way that Cruz or any other person could have escaped that kind of carnage.

  The mission was complete.

  As Max stood wearily, watching the oily black cloud rise into the air, he tried to feel some scrap of emotion, but there was nothing left. He couldn’t summon a benediction for Cruz, or anything close to forgiveness.

  He had his own questions about the story Cruz had told him, but they could wait. He had to get Miki into surgery a.s.a.p. to deal with Cruz’s chip and whatever other implant he’d put inside her. After that Max had to figure out what kind of future they could have.

  If any was possible. Cruz had probably been right about that much.

  He realized that Truman was looking up at him, strong and steady. “Good dog. We owe you, buddy. How about a steak tonight?” Max closed his eyes as he was hit by a wave of dizziness. But he stood up slowly and squared his shoulders. His wounds could wait.

  “Time to go home,” he whispered to Truman.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, he’s coming? You said that twenty minutes ago, so where is he?” Miki paced the beach, waving her arms, her face pale and anxious. “I want to see for myself how he is.”

  “He got a few scratches, that’s all.” Wolfe Houston offered her a bottle of water, but she pushed it away. “Izzy’s almost done looking at him.”

  “This Izzy guy had better be good,�
�� she said flatly.

  “Count on it.”

  “Yeah, right. All of you keep saying that Max is fine, but then you look away or clear your throats in that juvenile way that means you’re hiding something but you think I’m too dumb to notice.”

  Wolfe cleared his throat and looked away.

  “You see? Just like that.”

  The tall man named Dakota, who was still wearing Dutch’s shirt, stood up and rubbed his neck. “You know, she could have a point, Chief. Maybe I should go check on Izzy and see what’s taking so long.”

  “Great idea.” Miki ran a hand through her hair and then shot around so fast that she kicked up sand. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Neither of you is going anywhere.” Wolfe glared at the two of them. “Izzy knows what he’s doing, and believe me, he doesn’t like an audience when he works.”

  “Tough,” Miki snapped. “He’ll have to get used to it.”

  She stormed across the beach, her expression set, and Wolfe shook his head in irritation. He knew Miki well enough to realize there would be no holding her back without physical restraints.

  “Do me a favor and keep her out of trouble,” he said to Dakota. “Tell her anything you want, since we’ll have to remove all her memories of today when we leave. Right now I’ve got to finish rounding up Cruz’s people and then make a definitive recovery of his remains.” There was something unreadable in Wolfe’s eyes. He took a deep breath and then turned to glare at Dakota. “And stop calling me Chief.”

  “Sure thing.” Dakota grinned and gave a little two-finger wave as he turned to follow Miki. “Chief,” he muttered.

  WOLFE RUBBED HIS NECK in irritation. He had to complete the recovery of Cruz’s remains, capture all hostile forces and prepare a report in triplicate. Ryker would be furious that he’d lost a chance to take Cruz alive, but anything was better than allowing the rogue soldier to escape their net again. Now that they had the pilot in custody, they were gaining valuable information about Cruz’s organization. Meanwhile, there was the question of Miki’s additional implants to deal with, and Wolfe had commandeered a chopper for fast transport to the nearest secure medical facility.