The Collected

by Brett Battles

  “That bastard,” Nate said, his eyes narrowing. “He set me up.”

  “That, he did.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Thought that was a choice you should make. He’ll be easy to find, though.”

  Nate nodded, but said nothing.

  “I’m serious, Nate,” Orlando said. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

  “Not until we get the rest of them. They’re going to be killed, probably sooner now that I’ve escaped.”

  “And exactly how did you do that?” Daeng asked.

  “I’ll tell you over a beer later.” He looked at each of them. “With your help, I think we can do it.”

  “What’s your plan?” Quinn asked.

  “I’ve been picking them off one at a time. Have seven of them out of the picture already.”

  Quinn was impressed. “The tree branch and the groan was your attempt to get the rest to come out.”

  “Yeah. Shouldn’t be much longer. If we get into position, we can start getting rid of them a lot faster.”

  “Now that there are four of us,” Quinn said, “maybe we don’t need to worry about them at all.”

  __________

  QUINN, ORLANDO, NATE, and Daeng watched from the brush as eight soldiers exited the door in the fort wall, and moved as a group into the jungle toward where the noise had occurred.

  As soon as they disappeared, Quinn and the others jogged over to the door.

  “Everyone ready?” Quinn whispered.

  The three others pressed themselves against the wall, off to the side, holding their guns in front of them.

  “All set,” Nate said.

  Quinn raised his fist and knocked. In Spanish, he said, “Open up. I found one of the missing men. He needs help!” He knocked again. “Hurry, hurry! He needs medical attention!”

  Something that sounded like a bar moved on the other side. The latch turned.

  A soldier opened the door and looked out. “Where is he?” he asked. He then seemed to realize Quinn wasn’t who he expected. “Who are you?”

  “We’ve come to pick up our friends.”

  “What?”

  The other three stepped out to where they could be seen, their guns pointed at the soldier. The man’s eyes widened. He reached for the rifle on his shoulder, but before he could pull it off, Quinn stepped inside and twisted it free.

  The man seemed to suddenly find his voice, and started to yell as he ran toward the interior door. Quinn jabbed with the rifle, knocking the man down and cutting off the warning. He rolled the guy over with his foot.

  “You open your mouth again, it’ll be the last time. Sit up against the wall. Hands on your knees.”

  While Quinn dealt with the soldier, the others stepped inside. Daeng immediately closed the door and dropped the locking bar in place.

  “You down here all by yourself?” Quinn asked the soldier.

  “Go to hell,” the man said. He spat at Quinn.

  Nate came up next to Quinn. “I know you. You were one of the guys who helped escort me to your boss’s office yesterday. Bet you also helped take some of my friends out of their cells.”

  The man’s look of defiance slipped. “I…I was just doing what I was told.”

  “Did you watch as they whipped us?” Nate asked.

  The man blinked and looked away.

  “Maybe you were the one who hooked my hands up.”

  “No. That wasn’t me.”

  “But you were there.”

  A slight nod.

  “And you did nothing.”

  “What could I do?”

  Nate placed the end of his suppressor against the man’s forehead. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “No! No! Please!”

  There was a pop, only it wasn’t from Nate’s pistol. It was from the vaccine gun Orlando shoved against the man’s arm.

  “So which way from here?” she asked Nate.

  “Up.”

  CHAPTER 57

  HARRIS RETURNED TO the courtyard just as Janus finished whipping Peter. Leaving the prisoners dangling from their hoists, he escorted Romero back to the old man’s suite.

  “When Quinn is found, I want him whipped fifty times,” Romero said once they reached the room.

  “Whatever you want,” Harris said, though in his mind, Quinn would be dead the next time either man saw him.

  Romero turned his wheelchair toward the bed. “I’m going to take a nap. Don’t bother me until it’s time for the prisoners to have their electroshock.”

  “Yes, sir.” Harris walked out of the room.

  Unraveling, the voice said in his head. It repeated the word over and over.

  “It’s not unraveling,” he whispered.

  But what if it does unravel?

  The question made him pause. If it did, what about the money Romero promised him? The money he’d been waiting for?

  You can’t spend money if you’re dead.

  That wasn’t going to happen. If things truly spun out of control, it would be time to think about his own skin.

  The boat.

  Yes. Right. Romero’s boat. It was tied off to a small covered dock behind the fort. He’d take that.

  When he got back to his room, he’d gather the cash he’d been stashing away and put it in a bag by the door, easy to grab. It was nothing compared to the amount he was due, but it would hold him over for a while.

  I won’t need it, though. It’s just in case. Everything is going to be fine.

  He headed toward his room, his pace quicker than normal. As he neared his door, he saw two soldiers farther down the hall, walking away.

  “You, there,” he called out.

  The soldiers kept going.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  They finally stopped and one of them turned.

  “Tell your commander that I’ll be in my room and am to be notified the moment the fugitive is brought in.”

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier said.

  Once inside his suite, Harris poured himself another whiskey, this time savoring it as it went down.

  To surviving, he thought. One way or another.

  CHAPTER 58

  A QUICK SEARCH of the room at the base of the wall revealed a separate storage area filled with extra gear for the soldiers.

  The men each donned one of the spare uniforms. None was small enough for Orlando.

  “You two stay here while Daeng and I do a recon,” Quinn told Orlando and Nate.

  “You don’t know the place. I do,” Nate said. “I should go.”

  “I’m guessing you’re a pretty hot commodity around here right now. As much as I’d like you to come, best if you stay under wraps as long as possible.”

  “Don’t you dare cut me out,” Nate said.

  “Not cutting you out. Just making the smart play.”

  Nate locked eyes with him for a moment before he reluctantly nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay for now.”

  Daeng’s Asian features would be impossible for anyone to miss if they got too close. But at a distance and with the bill of his cap pulled down far enough, his dark skin and black hair would actually be an asset.

  They took a stone stairwell up to a hallway on the next level, and, after a few minutes, located the hallway with the rooms where Nate and the others had been held. Since there were no guards around, it seemed a pretty good guess that the prisoners weren’t around either.

  Just to be sure, Quinn made a quick trip down the block, while Daeng stood guard outside, and checked the cells. Though it was obvious they were being used, all were empty.

  Quinn and Daeng followed Nate’s directions on how to get from there to the courtyard. A few times, they heard footsteps down intersecting halls but had yet to cross paths with anyone.

  Upon reaching the courtyard door, Quinn eased it back a few inches and peered out. He realized why they hadn’t seen anyone else. Most everyone who was still in the fort was in the courtyard. He could see a port
ion of the top of the wall. There were three soldiers spread out along it, and in the actual courtyard were four more. There was also a big blond guy sitting in a chair, soaking up the sun. He had to be Janus.

  “Watch out for him,” Nate had said as he briefed them. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

  The most shocking sight was the four figures with black bags over their heads. They were dangling in the air by arms hooked to chains. Their backs were the worst part. They were even more chewed up than Nate’s. It was clear from the blood dripping down that they’d just been whipped again.

  Peter, Lanier, Berkeley, and Curson.

  Quinn watched each man for a moment to be sure they were all still breathing, then moved to the side and let Daeng take a look. When the Thai man was done, they shut the door.

  “Back downstairs,” Quinn whispered. “We need the others.”

  On the way back to the stairs, they made a wrong turn and ended up in a hallway they hadn’t been in before. Realizing their mistake, they turned around and started back they way they’d come. A moment after they made the U-turn, they heard a door open. Footsteps in the hallway behind them.

  There was a part of Quinn that wanted to pick up the pace and get out of there as quickly as they could, but he knew doing so would bring unwanted attention, so they continued on at a purposeful, but non-rushed pace.

  “You, there,” the man behind them yelled.

  They kept moving, pretending like they hadn’t heard.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  “Stop,” Quinn whispered. “But only I will turn.”

  Quinn faced the man who’d called them. He had expected the speaker to be another soldier, but instead he was looking at Harris, the bald former mercenary himself. Quinn kept his expression neutral.

  “Tell your commander that I’ll be in my room and am to be notified the moment the fugitive is brought in.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quinn replied.

  Harris opened a nearby door and passed inside. Quinn marked the location in his mind, and told Daeng who he’d just seen.

  “If Harris is here,” Daeng said, “then Romero’s got to be somewhere nearby, right?”

  “One would think so.”

  __________

  “WHEN THEY BROUGHT us back, Janus and one of the guards would come into the cell with me,” Nate said. “I couldn’t see what was going on with the others, but it sounded like the same thing.”

  Nate told them that so far, after every torture session, they would leave the prisoners outside for a while before taking them back to their cells to await the next event. That was good. Quinn had been worried they would just be left in the courtyard. Making an assault there would have been a quick way to get one or most of the prisoners and themselves killed. The guards on the wall would quickly pick everyone off before Quinn and the rest had a chance to do much of anything.

  When they finally settled on a solution they all thought would work, Quinn said, “From this point forward, if someone’s in your way, kill them. Understood?”

  It wasn’t a hard sell. Though none of their job descriptions was that of professional killer, they had all killed before. Given what had been happening at Fort Duran, none of them would take issue with doing so again.

  They checked their comm-gear, got into their positions, and waited.

  __________

  THE POUNDING OF feet echoed down the hallway, signaling the imminent arrival of the prisoners back to their cellblock.

  “Daeng, are they to you yet?” he said into the radio.

  Daeng was in a room down the hall with the door open but lights off. His would be the first position they passed.

  “Seconds away,” Daeng whispered.

  Quinn and Orlando were in the same hallway, but on the other side of the door to the cellblock, hidden by the curve of the corridor. Nate was in the cellblock itself, at the far end, tucked around the elbow turn of the hall he’d used to escape.

  There was a click over the radio—Daeng letting them know the soldiers and prisoners were outside his door. A few seconds later, he whispered, “Four guards and that big blond.”

  “Copy,” Quinn replied.

  “Copy,” Nate chimed in.

  The footsteps kept coming, until it almost seemed as if they would pass the cellblock entrance and head right around the curve of the hall to where Quinn and Orlando waited. But then, not quite in perfect synchronization, the prisoner detail stopped.

  The door to the other hallway opened with a creak, and the ragtag march started up again as the prisoners were led inside. As soon as the door closed, Quinn and Orlando came around the corner and stepped over to it. Daeng joined them a few seconds later.

  “In position,” Quinn said into his mic.

  A single click from Nate. Message received.

  Quinn grabbed the door handle, ready to pull the door open as soon as Nate gave them the two clicks that meant go.

  __________

  NATE STOOD AS close to the corner as he could possibly get, waiting for the preplanned moment. It wasn’t hard to imagine what was going on. In front of every cell, a soldier-and-prisoner pair stood waiting until Janus deemed it was their turn to go in.

  A door opened, then three sets of steps—Janus, a guard, and a prisoner. As they passed into the cell, the sounds of their movements diminished.

  Janus’s voice drifted down to him. “Do not get too comfortable. You will not be here long.” This was followed by a laugh, and the sound of Janus and the guard exiting the cell and closing the door.

  One down.

  Nate continued to listen as the second prisoner and then the third were put back in their rooms.

  When the door to the third cell shut, he clicked his radio once. Be ready.

  The fourth cell opened. Janus and one of the guards took the last prisoner inside.

  Click-click.

  As soon as the message was sent, he stepped out to where he could be seen. “Hey, I hear you’re looking for me.”

  __________

  QUINN COUNTED OFF five seconds after the double click before he pulled the door open as quietly as he could.

  “…looking for me.”

  As expected, the three guards in the hallway had all turned in Nate’s direction and were not paying attention to the door. Quinn, Orlando, and Daeng moved inside and spread out.

  The guards, all eyes still on their escaped prisoner, began unslinging their rifles.

  Quinn’s target was the farthest guard, Orlando’s the middle, Daeng’s the nearest. Within a second and a half, they each pulled their triggers. Like dominos, all three guards fell to the ground, dead.

  The open cell was the one nearest Quinn and the others. The guard who’d been inside stepped out to see what was going on. A bullet to the forehead from Quinn’s gun sent him crashing back inside.

  Nate jogged down the hall, stopping fifteen feet on the other side of the open door. “Janus! Come out!”

  A scuffling of feet, then nothing.

  “Janus!” Nate yelled again. “Give it up. Come on out. This is done.”

  “Nothing is done. I think you will let me go.”

  “You think wrong.”

  A laugh, then Janus appeared in the doorway. But he wasn’t alone. He had Peter in his arms, and was holding him high enough to protect his own head and chest.

  Peter grimaced. “Just shoot him.”

  Janus peeked around Peter at Nate. “Well, Quinn, you are pretty good. You bring help?”

  “Put him down,” Nate said.

  “Go over with your friends or I break his neck. You know I can.”

  “I don’t care if you hit me,” Peter said. “Shoot him!”

  No one pulled the trigger. Peter was—if not quite a friend—someone who’d been an important part of their lives for a long time. They weren’t about to shoot at him if they could help it.

  Quinn motioned for his old apprentice to join them. As soon as Nate did, Janus eased out of the room, turning to k
eep Peter between them and him at all times.

  Quinn searched for a shot, anything that might disable Janus and allow them to get Peter free, but Peter was unintentionally doing a pretty damn good job of shielding the other man. Quinn might be able to shoot Janus in the foot, but it was iffy at best.

  Janus started backing down the hallway in the direction Nate had been hiding. Nate took a step forward to follow.

  “Don’t,” Janus said. “I will kill him.”

  “Kill him and we’ll kill you,” Nate said.

  “Peter here will still be dead, and I might still get away.”

  Janus took another step back. This time Nate didn’t move.

  “Good boy,” Janus said, not stopping.

  “Shoot him!” Peter yelled.

  Janus momentarily freed up a hand and punched the former head of the Office in the face. There were no more outbursts.

  “What’s going on?” Lanier called from his cell.

  “Yeah,” Berkeley said. “What’s happening out there? Are you here to get us out?”

  “Everyone shut up,” Quinn said.

  “Come on, man,” Berkeley said. “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is that we’re going to leave you here if you say another word.”

  Janus had reached the turn in the hall. “Don’t follow me,” he ordered, and then disappeared.

  Quinn and Nate immediately ran after him. As they neared the corner, they heard a grunt and a thud. Then running feet, heavy and fast.

  They sprinted the rest of the way to the end, and whipped around the corner, their guns ready.

  Peter lay motionless on the ground about halfway between the corner and the far door, but Janus was gone. They raced over and knelt down. Quinn checked Peter’s pulse.

  “He’s alive,” he said.

  Nate glanced at the hallway beyond them. “Janus can get to the top of the wall that way. If he does, he’ll warn everyone. That could be a problem.” He stood up. “I’m going after him.”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  With a nod, Nate took off.

  Quinn put Peter over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, lugged him back to the others, and transferred him to Daeng’s shoulder.