by S. A. Lusher
He told her a sort of truncated version of his own story. It was mostly true. He explained that he and the other two worked for the government and they were highly-trained individuals who took on normally impossible tasks. Which was technically true. He outlined their given tasks. “We have to kill or capture Enzo Rains.”
“Enzo Rains...he got a mechanical arm?” Jennifer asked.
“Yeah, why?” Greg replied.
“I saw him. He's the one that took out my friend. I say we kill him,” she growled.
“You and me both,” Drake muttered.
“If it comes to that we'll do it. Our other tasks are to take this group out of commission. We're also to recover Doctor Azzo Matheson alive, as well as any research done on the Necro Virus. Everyone and everything else is expendable. I'm officially bringing you in on this, Jennifer. You'll be assisting us,” Greg said.
“Fine by me,” Jennifer replied.
“I'm in, come here,” Eve said.
They all gathered around her. She quickly outlined her plan, pointing to a large, holographic map. They would split up into two groups: Greg and Eve would create a distraction by activating a terminal deeper in and making it look like they were at that location. From there, they would break into an armory and grab some heavier firepower. Drake and Jennifer would go to the research labs and open up every single door control and release all the specimens.
“We should also grab the vaccination if we can find it,” Jennifer said.
“Yeah,” Greg replied, though he knew he didn't actually need it. But Eve and Drake definitely would. “That's a good idea. Once the creatures spread, you and Drake will get up into the research labs and find the notes and Eve and I will go looking for Enzo and Matheson. Does anyone have any questions?” he asked, looking around.
Everyone shook their head.
“Great, let's get to work.”
CHAPTER 12
–Short Fuses–
After the threesome with Natalia and the brunette, Enzo had gone for a shower.
The sex and the new meds had helped reduce the pain in his shoulder back down to something more tolerable. He'd just been zipping up his black jumpsuit when the power had died. By the time he'd grabbed a pistol and gotten back out to the command center, his techs were bringing the secondary generator online.
“What happened?” he asked. “Did any of the specimens get out?”
“No, they're still secured,” one of the techs replied. “We've had an intruder.”
“Who? Where?”
“We're still trying to determine that.”
“Well hurry it up!” Enzo snapped.
So much for his shoulder feeling better for very long. Whatever good mood he'd been building up was wiped away in an instant. Being in pain put him in a bad mood and being in a bad mood made him feel pain.
It was a vicious cycle.
He began pacing, checking in with the various techs. Five minutes passed before one of them finally had something.
“Sir, you'd better get a look at this,” one of them said.
Enzo about-faced and stalked over to the console. He was about to ask what when he saw what was on the screen. He froze. An exterior camera showed three suited figures on approach. They were wearing unfamiliar, blue-gray armor. But there were just three of them. “Zoom in,” he said quietly, and the tech did.
“Greg,” he whispered. The first face he noticed among the trio was Greg's. But then he saw the others. Drake was there, and...
Eve.
Eve was with them.
She looked different and either that suit was really beefing up her proportions or she was a hell of a lot taller than she once had been. Before he'd left, hadn't he remembered hearing her saying something about hormone supplements? Wanting to be taller, like Allan's girlfriend? He couldn't remember but obviously that's what had happened.
They were here, now, with one obvious goal in mind.
Enzo brought a hand to his ear. “Frost, where are you?” He sensed someone approaching him.
“In your private infirmary. What the fuck's going on?”
“Get out into the command center now, I need you.”
“Did I hear you right?” said a voice from behind him, Matheson. Enzo turned to face him. “You said Greg, right? As in, Greg Bishop? I've read a lot about him.”
A door opened and Frost stalked out.
“What about Greg?” Enzo asked as Frost joined them.
“Greg Bishop. He's a walking cure for the Necro Virus, I've read. At least, that's what I heard based on the files you stole from the Atonement before it was destroyed,” Matheson replied. “I could use him. Having him would aid greatly in my research.”
“Orders?” Frost asked.
Enzo frowned, considering it. He still held no ill will towards his former allies. He was glad Allan wasn't among them. Despite how he may feel about them, he knew how they felt about him. Unfortunately, the only real outcome he could expect from a personal encounter with any of them was that one of them would wind up dead.
“Bring me him,” Enzo replied, pointing at Greg.
“And the others?” Frost asked.
“...kill them.”
Frost grinned. “Finally, a fucking order I can live with.”
He turned and stalked out of the room. Enzo watched him go, frowning. Suddenly, he felt like a coward, a miserable coward. Here he was, sending other men to do his bidding. Enzo was a man who liked to do things himself. But now he was in charge, and, he'd learned the hard way, you had to learn to delegate or else it would all fall apart. You couldn't do it all yourself, there was just too much to do. Another tech called him over.
“What is it?” he asked, crossing the room once more.
“Our prisoner has escaped,” the tech replied.
“Jesus fuck!” he snapped. “Can no one do their fucking jobs around here!?” He took a deep breath, let it out as a sigh. “All right people, listen the fuck up!” he snapped. “I want main power back online, I want those three taken care of. Capture Greg Bishop, get his picture sent around to the troops. Kill the others, that includes the fucking prisoner. Make sure the specimens remain sealed. And don't fucking bother me unless it's really fucking important.”
With that, he turned and marched across the room. He opened one of the doors and stepped through, into his personal infirmary, closing it behind him. He was alone in here. Which was fine by him. He generally liked being alone. Enzo scanned the infirmary and his eyes came to rest on the very special, very expensive, very rare device that he'd had Frost recover from the Cimmerian. It was still in experimental testing, and Enzo imagined it would be for a long time, given what it was and what it did, but it could hold the key to everything.
It was the device that Allan had once used.
A device that allowed you go into your own mind.
For three decades, Enzo had been whittling down the list of things his pain wasn't. The only thing that had remained on that list throughout it all was 'psychosomatic'. Or, basically, it was all in his head. It was emotional pain. He'd always refuted that, figuring it was ridiculous, but, in the darkest recesses of his soul, he had worried that it might be true. How could he fix that? He'd tried therapy, he'd tried drugs, he'd tried it all.
And then there was this.
It had cured Allan. It could cure him. Unless it was too powerful for him. All his research on the thing said there was basically a fifty-fifty chance of death or cure. It induced a medical coma and either you awoke from the coma largely cured of your underlying problem or you didn't wake up. Ever. Enzo didn't want to die...
But he was no longer sure if he wanted to live like this.
The more time went on, the worse his pain got, the more it pushed him towards finding out, pushed him towards doing something stupid.
Slowly, he walked over to the device and placed his hands on it. It was all smooth, cold white metal with a chrome trim. It had been in a case about two feet long, one wide, half a foot
deep. Not very big for such a powerful package. There were some drugs still in the case. The things that put you out, in the coma.
Enzo sighed, staring at the device. He hadn't been able to believe his luck when he'd been looking through the Cimmerian's cargo manifest. It was right there, buried in the list of extra crap they'd brought along. And now he had it here, with him, in his presence. He could use it right now if he wanted to. But...no. He wasn't there.
Not yet.
Suddenly, there was a chirp in his ear. “Mister Rains, we have a problem.”
“What?!” he snapped.
“All the specimens have been released.”
Enzo felt his entire body go cold.
* * * * *
“So...who are you? I mean, really,” Jennifer asked.
She and one of the survivors, he'd introduced himself as Drake Winters, were making their way through an underground utilities corridor. They'd been walking in silence for about ten minutes now, making good progress towards the research lab. She had to admit, she didn't like the plan, but she really saw no other way to help level the playing field. They said there were something like a couple hundred people up there working for Enzo.
“I told you, I'm with the government,” Drake replied. He seemed distracted.
“Yeah, but...what branch? You aren't Spec Ops. I've seen Spec Ops before.”
He sighed. “I'm with a branch that doesn't really...I don't think we've been made public. We're just one ship, one crew. We deal with...unique problems. We work behind the scenes.”
“Unique problems like what?”
“Like this.”
“Zombies? Rogue armies?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Jennifer considered it for a moment. They reached a heat sync room, the walls covered in all different kinds pipes and readout screens. Drake looked around for a moment, then broke left, moving down another lengthy corridor.
Jennifer followed. “How long has this branch existed?” she asked.
“About six months,” Drake replied.
“Whoa, pretty new. So you've seen some crazy shit?”
“Yeah. A lot.”
“You aren't very talkative.”
“No, I'm not.”
They kept walking for another few moments longer. Another thought occurred to Jennifer. “You said earlier that you agreed with me about wanting to kill Enzo? What did he do to you? I imagine you must have run into him before.”
Drake was silent for a moment longer, then he sighed, relenting. “We used to work together. He betrayed us, went to work for the enemies. A result of his betrayal was that my best friend in the entire universe, the man who I had been in the company of for about thirty years, who was, in every way that counted, my brother, died.”
“Oh...I'm sorry.”
“So am I. And Enzo will be too, if I have anything to say about it...we're here.”
The corridor came to an end and they opened a security door they found there. This place was more well-lit, more well-maintained. In the interval of time that had passed, those who were running this show had gotten the lights back on. A large security workstation waited for them on the other side of the room.
“You sure you can do this?” Drake asked.
“Yes,” Jennifer replied, taking a seat. She cracked her knuckles and set to work. Several minutes passed in silence as she quickly cut through the security they had around the lab. There wasn't much, really. They must have figured no one would ever get close enough to do this. Sloppy. She found the controls for all of the specimen cages and hit the override switch, opening every single last one of them.
Somewhere, an alarm began to cycle.
Drake grinned grimly and shut and locked the door.
“Now,” he said, “we wait.”
* * * * *
“You really think we're going to get Enzo this time?” Eve asked.
They were making their way through the underground complex, hurrying towards the terminal to get the first part of their job done.
“Yes,” Greg replied firmly. “We're getting him, one way or the other. He isn't getting away this time.”
“I remember saying that a couple of times before,” Eve muttered.
“Heh, yeah. I don't know, I've just...got a feeling this time. A feeling things are heading towards a conclusion for one of us.”
“Hopefully him,” Eve replied.
Greg found himself falling into a deeper thought process as they walked on, since they seemed to have the place pretty much to themselves for the moment. Not that that would last. He was thinking about his relationship with Eve. It was...well, it was still largely the same. Okay, well, that wasn't entirely true. They were having sex with other people occasionally now, and he'd been happy to learn that he didn't have a huge jealousy streak or something, because it didn't really bother him. It probably helped when he'd learned that he didn't really have too much of a problem in the getting laid department.
But he thought things would be a little more...evolved, by now. Or was this it? Was this as far as most relationships went? They slept together, (literally and in the other meaning of the word), they hung out a lot together, went on missions together. He was actually really happy with her. He just thought there'd be something...more. That 'more' was a total mystery to him and he'd been pushing the feeling away, because, after some examination, he figured it must be some kind of side effect of being an adrenaline junkie.
He always expected to feel more.
It was, he realized, probably the reason Eve had suggested opening their relationship. She knew that he was the kind of person who needed excitement in his life, in all areas of his life, and what was more exciting than sex with a new person?
Just one more reason he was in an amazing relationship.
“There, there it is,” Eve said, pointing. “Watch my back.”
Greg nodded and assumed a guarding position. They stood in a short corridor, both ways clear. Eve stepped up to the terminal and quickly began working it. It didn't take long for her to initiate a program that made it look like someone would still be using the terminal even as they plunged deeper into the facility. A moment later, she straightened up.
“Done,” she said. “Let's go.”
“You're good at that,” Greg replied as they began jogging through the passageways.
“I'd damn well better be, spent twenty years figuring tech shit out.”
He snorted and they kept going. A moment later, an alarm began to cycle. “Well, looks like Drake and the new girl got their part of the job going,” he said.
“Yeah, hopefully they'll all wipe each other out,” Eve replied.
“That's rarely how it works out.”
“I can hope.”
They kept going until they reached the armory, or, at least, where the armory was supposed to be, given the map they'd studied. They came up through a ventilation duct that was just big enough to hold them and found the room empty.
Well, empty of people.
There were still a fair amount of guns.
“Let's get to it,” Greg said.
They spent the next several minutes canvasing the armory, moving as quickly as they could. Since they'd already stocked up on regular guns and ammo from their ship, they skipped over the regular pick of pistols, rifles, shotguns and SMGs.
“Whoa,” Greg said, coming across a compact rocket launcher. “Holy shit. I'm so putting this to use at some point.” He grinned as he grabbed it and checked it out.
“Look what I got,” Eve replied, lifting up what appeared to be a flamethrower. “Nice, huh? Where were these things back when we really needed them?”
“My thoughts exactly. I'd like to see a fucking Berserker come after me now,” Greg said. The launcher was unloaded, but he fixed that by slipping a rocket in the tube. The rockets were small, compact like the launcher, but, he imagined, they would pack a wallop. He managed to find another few rockets and pocketed them.
“Guess that's
about it, I don't see anything else worthwhile,” Eve said.
“Great.” Greg grinned. “Let's go cause some trouble.”
CHAPTER 13
–Predator & Prey–
They let just over twenty minutes go by before leaving the security of the room they'd locked themselves in.
There had been a great deal of screaming, a lot of gunfire and several explosions that shook dust from the ceiling. Now, all was pretty much silent, except for the occasional staccato burst of distant gunfire that echoed down to them through the ventilation system. Even the alarm had been mercifully cut. Drake led the way, which was fine by Jennifer. He was the one that had that full-body suit of top-tier armor. As they made their way through another grimly-lit utilities tunnel, she mulled over what he had told her.
It wasn't much, but she was very intrigued.
Some kind of top-secret government/military agency that dealt with unique threats. Unique as in inhuman. There were all kinds of stories out there about weird shit. Of course, there was the Cyr, but they were ancient history, long dead even before humanity could make fire. Then there was the wildlife they found on alien worlds. That could get weird and creepy, but ultimately it was just the rough equivalent of finding wildlife on Earth. Scientifically interesting? Sure. But otherwise? No, not really. It wasn't truly out there.
Then there were the stories.
There were always stories.
Jennifer liked to collect those stories. There was one she'd heard about a derelict ship that somehow consumed anyone who showed up to investigate. One about an alien creature unearthed by a mining team on an asteroid that fed on human brains. A story of a crazed old Cyr artificial intelligence that infected human computers and turned their technology against them. It was interesting and she personally found it deeply fascinating. She always suspected that there was some top secret organization that dealt with the situations like these. It wasn't a new idea, either. These conspiracy theories could be traced back hundreds of years.
