From the other side of the square, an eight-wheeled vehicle pulling a trailer with a cage on it approached. Grant swore out loud when he saw one of the black robotic creatures inside the cage. The driver brought the vehicle to a halt in the middle of the square, got out of his seat, and ran for cover. The creature took in a deep whiff of air through its flat nostrils and began to hiss. Its clawed hands wrapped around one of the metal bars of the cage and began to shake it violently.
“I guess we know what’s going to be experimented on today,” said Maclean.
“Yeah, us,” replied Grant.
Carus left Vogel’s side and walked over until he was almost eye to eye with Grant. “Do you like my latest creation?”
“If you’re trying to scare us, you’re a little late,” said Grant. “We’ve already dealt with three of these things back on Bouvet Island.”
Carus canted his head. “Yes, but they were my trial robots. I unleashed them on a doomed trawler to see how much damage they could inflict. Unfortunately, most of the crew fled and the ship ran aground. Which was perfect, as I wanted them to also tear you from limb to limb. However, you spoiled that by killing them. Still, I believe in my heart that they are nearly perfect killing machines. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Why the hell did you feel the need to create such monstrosities in the first place?” asked Maclean.
“I am planning on using them to guard my next installation. However, I’m just not sure if they’re operationally ready.” Carus leaned forward and smiled. “That’s where you two come in. I need to see if my latest upgraded creation is working as it should. Your gruesome deaths should be all the inducement I need to get Susan to tell me the truth for once.”
Grant snarled and lunged at Carus, only to be yanked back by the stocky guard.
“Let the games begin,” said Carus, pointing to the center of the square. “Grant first.”
“I’m going to gut you and leave you to bleed,” Maclean snarled at Carus.
“I don’t think so, Sergeant. Enjoy the show. You’re next.”
“No!” yelled Susan. “Let him go!”
Elena pushed her guard aside, ran over, and scooped up Susan in her arms. She ran a hand over Susan’s head and turned her away, so she couldn’t see what was going to happen next.
Grant dug his heels in as he was dragged toward the parked vehicle. When the guards were about ten meters shy of the creature, they stopped, removed Grant’s handcuffs, dropped a wooden pickax handle at his feet, and ran back.
“We have to keep this sporting,” explained Carus.
“How nice of you,” said Grant, picking up the wood. He swung it back and forth in the air trying to get a feel for its weight.
“Now bring the girl to me,” ordered Carus.
“No,” said Elena, shaking her head.
“Do it, or I’ll have Maclean shot.”
Maclean grimaced when a gun barrel was thrust against his head. “Leave her alone, you bastards!” he yelled.
“Silence him,” ordered Carus.
One of the guards reached into a pocket on his uniform, pulled out a gag, and jammed it in Maclean’s mouth.
Grant watched, impotent to stop what was happening. With a gun aimed at her head, Elena carried Susan to Carus’ side.
“Set her down,” said Carus.
Elena held her head up high and shook it.
“This is getting to be quite tiresome. Have it your way; I can get from her what I want while she’s still in your arms.” Carus reached over and laid his hand on Susan’s back. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before pulling his hand back. He glared at the young child. “She’s still blocking me.”
“Release the creature,” said Vogel.
Grant broke out in a cold sweat as the cage door opened electronically. The robot leaped from its cage, raised its long arms above its head, and bared its mouthful of shark-like teeth. Grant stepped back and brought up his bat. The creature walked slowly toward him, its blood-red eyes studying his every movement. With a loud hiss, the robotic killer charged.
He saw the move coming, took a step to one side, and with all his might, he slammed the pickax handle down on top of the monster’s head. Had the creature been made of flesh and blood instead of flexible steel and circuitry, the blow would have surely cracked the monster’s head wide open. Instead, the robot staggered forward a few paces before shaking its head and spinning around on its heel to face Grant.
“Crap,” Grant muttered to himself, looking around for a better weapon to use.
The robot walked in a circle just outside of Grant’s reach, waiting for its moment to strike.
“Susan, if you let me inside your mind, I’ll call off my pet,” offered Carus.
Elena pulled Susan tight into her embrace and whispered in her ear, “Don’t listen to him. David will find a way out of this.”
Grant edged close to the vehicle, hoping to use it for cover. When the robot lunged at him with its right hand, Grant swung the bat hard, knocking the hand away. With his side exposed, the creature brought its left hand over and raked Grant’s rib cage. The razor-sharp claws ripped through his coveralls and tore deep, bloody grooves into his skin. Grant howled in pain. He tried to block the pain in his mind as he shot his right leg out, smashing it onto the robot’s closest knee. The creature lost its balance and tumbled to the ground. As fast as he could, Grant brought the bat down on the robot’s head, crushing one of its electronic eyes. The red light flickered briefly, then died.
The robot may have been down, but it was far from beaten. With the sweep of its right arm, it knocked Grant’s feet out from underneath his body, and he came crashing down onto his back.
White-hot pain shot from Grant’s ribs, and he fought to catch his breath. Grant rolled over, shook his head, and struggled to get to his feet.
The monster got to its knees and swung a hand at Grant, trying to rip open his back. The claws cut through his coveralls but missed his skin by a millimeter.
Grant picked up his bat, turned around, and brought it above his head. With a guttural cry, he brought the pickax handle down on the creature’s left shoulder, dislocating its arm.
Undeterred, the robot rose to its feet and ran at Grant who, tiring from the fight, swung at the monster but missed. The two combatants smashed into the side of the vehicle and tumbled to the ground. Even with only one arm still working, the powerful robot was more than a match for Grant. It rolled over and wrapped its right hand around Grant’s throat, squeezing tightly.
Grant knew he was losing the fight. No matter how hard he smashed his fists into the side of the robot’s head, it wouldn’t let go of his throat. His lungs, starved of oxygen, began to burn. Grant knew he had seconds before he blacked out and died.
“Stop!” yelled Carus. “Don’t kill him…at least, not yet.”
The robot froze in place but released its grip only enough to let Grant breathe.
“Susan, you can save your friend,” said Carus, putting a hand on her arm. “Just drop your guard and let me in, and this will all be over in a matter of seconds.”
“Don’t do it, honey,” said Elena into Susan’s ear.
Susan lifted her head and looked over at Grant with red-rimmed eyes. Her friend was close to death.
Out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw Hayes hesitate for a second before curling up his right hand. With a cry on his lips, Hayes smashed his fist into the face of the guard who should have been covering him but was watching the fight instead. The guard, dazed by the blow, staggered on his feet. Hayes yanked the man’s machine pistol from his shoulder, flipped off the safety with his thumb, and fired the weapon point-blank at the hapless guard. Without stopping, Hayes emptied what was left in the magazine at the men guarding Maclean. Two men fell to the ground, wounded.
The instant Hayes cried out, Maclean reacted. As the guards fell to the ground, Maclean pivoted on his heel and brought his head down onto the nose of the muscular guard. With a wet thud, Maclean shatt
ered the man’s nose. Blood flowed like a river down the guard’s face. The man reached up for his nose, leaving his stomach wide open. Like a cobra striking its prey, Maclean shot his right knee into the guard’s midsection, dropping him.
Vogel and Carus stood watching the chaos erupt, paralyzed in disbelief. What had been a controlled situation only seconds ago was now pandemonium. The last guard on his feet turned his weapon to fire on Maclean, but he was struck by a blast from Ben’s pistol.
Vogel grabbed Carus by the arm and pulled him back. As they turned to flee, Vogel yelled at his creation, “Kill him!”
The robot instantly clenched its hand tighter around Grant’s throat, threatening to crush the life out of him.
“Ben, save David,” shouted Susan.
With a well-aimed shot, Ben blasted the robot’s head. Its smoking carcass dropped to the ground next to a gasping and wheezing Grant.
Hayes’ face turned snow-white. He dropped the weapon in his hands and ran to help Maclean.
Susan squirmed her way out of Elena’s arms. Together, they rushed to Grant’s side.
From overhead, an alarm sounded. A disembodied voice announced, “Warning, this is a red alert. All guards are to report to their duty stations immediately. I say again, the base is on red alert.”
Grant opened his eyes. His throat was on fire. He opened his mouth and tried to take in a deep breath. Instead, he gasped and coughed.
Elena helped him to sit up. “Take it easy. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Susan, where’s Susan?” asked Grant, his voice raspy.
“I’m here, you big silly,” said Susan, wrapping her arms around Grant’s chest.
Pain erupted from the cuts on his ribs. “Easy does it. I’m a little tender down there.”
“Sorry,” said Susan, letting go of him.
“I hate to break up the reunion,” said Maclean, handing his friend a machine pistol, “but we’re not out of it yet.”
Grant gritted his teeth as he got to his feet. He looked around at the people with him and smiled weakly. “We may not be much of an army, but I’m glad that you’re all here with me.”
“David, what are we going to do?” asked Elena. “The guards will be coming for us.”
“It’s time to leave,” said Grant. “Jim has a plan to get us out of here.”
55
“Round up the dropped weapons and all the ammo you can,” said Grant to Maclean. “Everyone but Jeremy get comfy in the back of the vehicle and keep your heads down.”
“What do you need me to do?” asked Hayes.
“Unhook the trailer and then join the others.”
Hayes nodded and ran to detach the trailer.
Grant placed his weapon down on the dash of the vehicle and climbed in. The moment Maclean jumped in with his arms full of weapons, Grant jammed his foot down on the accelerator and drove off in the direction of the prison. Elena held Susan tight in her arms while Ben got as low as he could.
“So, what’s your plan?” asked Hayes.
“We’re going to free the prisoners and then the captain is going to seize the sub,” replied Maclean, looking over his shoulder. “Simultaneously, I’m going to steal some charges and use them to bring down the tunnel to the sub pen, so the bad guys can’t get to us and destroy the lab facility.”
“This sounds terribly risky. Are you sure your plan will work?”
“No, not at all. But it’s all we could think of.”
“Then we’re going to pray it works,” said Elena.
“Jeremy, thanks for springing me back there,” said Maclean over his shoulder.
Hayes’ faced turned green. He turned his head and threw up all down the side of the vehicle.
“It’s only your nerves letting you know you’re still alive, Professor,” said Maclean, trying to comfort his friend. “Trust me, you did the right thing. David would be dead, and so would Susan.”
Hayes sat up and wiped his lips. He nodded and sat there, staring straight ahead.
Grant kept his foot pressed firmly down on the accelerator. He wasn’t stopping for anyone or anything.
A guard near the prison entrance ran out with his weapon in his hands. Maclean brought up his machine pistol and fired a short burst into the man’s chest.
Grant brought the transport vehicle to a screeching halt outside of the locked prison doors. A security camera above the door was Maclean’s next target.
“Stay here until we come back,” said Grant to his friends, hunched down in the back of the eight-wheeler.
“David, be careful. There are two men behind the doors waiting for you,” said Elena.
Grant scrunched up his face. “How do you know that?”
“Susan just placed an image in my mind.”
“That’s good enough for me. Jim is going to need to use this vehicle, so when the shooting ends, jump out and find some cover.” Grant ran to Maclean’s side and warned him about the guards.
The two men took posts on either side of the steel door, their weapons at the ready.
“How are we going to get in there?” said Grant, pulling on the door handle “The door’s locked.”
“That’s easy,” replied Maclean, flashing a piece of paper in the air.
“What’s that?”
“The code for the door,” he replied, inputting the security code into a panel on the wall.
“How did you get that?”
“I traded a water bottle for the code with one of the wounded guards.”
Grant heard the door begin to slide open. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the coming fight. The instant the door opened, both men thrust their machine pistols inside and sprayed bullets everywhere. The sound of a man moaning in pain let them know they had hit someone. Grant took a quick look and saw one man lying facedown in a pool of blood. The other was sitting on the floor with a hand on his blood-stained stomach.
Maclean rushed inside and kicked the dying man’s weapon away from his hands. “The key to the prisoners’ room, where is it?”
The man pointed to a rack next to the barred prison cell.
“Cover me,” said Maclean to Grant as he took hold of the key and inserted it into the lock. Maclean turned the key, yanked open the door, and yelled, “Let’s move!”
The first men through the door were Sergeant Wright, Lieutenant Larsen, and Charles.
Maclean handed over all the weapons and spare ammunition he had on him to the remaining Rangers.
“Is this all you could get?” asked Wright, looking over the pitiful number of weapons in their hands.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” replied Maclean.
“Your people are with me, Sergeant,” said Grant. “Let’s get moving.”
Wright nodded. “Yes, sir. Rangers and submarine crew, with me. Let’s go.”
Grant waved at Maclean and began running. Time was of the essence. Every second wasted allowed the opposition time to get organized.
“Are your people ready?” Maclean asked Charles.
The mercenary nodded. The last two mercs, along with a Malaysian sailor, walked out of the cell and joined them. Charles glanced over at Maclean’s machine pistol and said, “How come you’re the only one of us with a weapon?”
“Because the Rangers need them more than we do, and frankly, I don’t trust you.”
“Did you at least get us a ride?”
“Yeah, follow me.”
At the eight-wheeled vehicle, the sailor jumped behind the driver’s seat, while Maclean took the passenger side. The three mercenaries piled in the back.
Maclean patted the sailor on the shoulder. “Drive it like you stole it.”
The dirty man grinned and floored the accelerator. Like a prize stallion hearing the starting pistol firing, the vehicle jumped forward, picked up speed, and raced off down the passageway.
Elena popped her head up from behind a row of wooden crates as Maclean’s team sped off.
“What are we going to do
now?” asked Hayes.
“I think David wants us to stay here until the fighting ends,” she replied.
“Sounds good to me.”
A dozen men, many in rags, led by the Norwegian scientist, Magnus, and Shen, emerged from the prison and stood out in the open, looking lost.
“Over here,” said Elena, waving to the men.
Magnus saw the familiar face and waved for his comrades to follow him.
No sooner had they all taken cover than an image flashed in Elena’s mind. Blood covered the deck of the Swedish sub. Lying on his back with his eyes wide open was David Grant. “No,” moaned Elena.
“What’s wrong?” asked Hayes.
“The attack on the sub is going to fail.”
“It doesn’t have to,” said a teenage Susan in Elena’s mind.
“I don’t understand.”
“We have to help. Ben knows what he has to do.”
Elena stood straight up and took Susan in her arms. The young girl looked terrified. Elena looked at the people with her and said, “We can stay here and wait to die, or we can help our friends. I’m taking Susan and Ben with me. You can stay here if you wish, but I’m leaving.”
“Blast,” said Hayes under his breath. He grabbed a stick off the ground and ran to join Elena. Behind him, those men who could fight looked for something to fight with as they hobbled after Elena.
In the distance, gunfire erupted.
56
Grant slowed his pace and stopped just shy of the end of the tunnel. He could see their submarine moored against a cement quay.
Wright took up a position right behind Grant. “Why’d we stop?” he asked.
“It’s too quiet,” replied Grant. “The only way in or out of here is by that sub, and the opposition knows that. What I’d like to know is why aren’t they guarding it?”
Wright took a quick peek. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s no one in sight.”
“Okay, you stay here and guard the sub crew. I’m going to dash inside to see if I can draw their fire.”
“Good luck, sir.”
The Founders Page 25
