Mateo listened with wide eyes. "Wow."
"Yeah, wow," Cash said. "But let's get back to the guy with a price on his head."
Pictures of General Hamilton scrolled across the screen. "He was celebrated as a hero, but it came with a heavy price. The casualties were high on the Blood Legion's last mission, known as the Battle of Olympus Mons. Nearly two-thirds of Hamilton's men were massacred by the last pocket of rebel fighters. Only a combination of Hamilton's cunning tactics and the fearlessness of his squadron leader was able to propel the Legion to victory."
A photo of the squadron leader flashed onscreen, identified as Captain Kilgore. A more recent picture scrolled, showing Kilgore walking behind General Hamilton in Los Nuevos. Happy leaned forward so suddenly that Cash jerked back in surprise.
"Stop the feed."
She stared at the man's picture as if it were all that existed in the world. Kilgore was a clean-shaven black man with chiseled features, white hair and mirrored shades over his eyes. Happy gripped the back of an aluminum folding chair so hard that the metal crumpled in her prosthetic hand.
Cash stared at the damage in dismay. "Hey, you're wrecking my furniture. I paid good money for that."
"No, you didn't," Deejay said from the monitor.
Happy glanced down absently. Her jaw clenched so tightly that Cash heard her teeth grinding.
"I'm in."
"What?"
"I said I'm in. Whatever the plan is. If it gets me close to Kilgore, then I'll go with you."
"What, you know this guy? How?"
"It's personal."
"This the dude you were talking about earlier? The one you said you needed to kill?"
"No."
"Did you work with him in the HSSC?"
She slammed her fist into the wall, buckling the metal. "Look—what the hell does it matter? I said I'll back you up. I'll follow orders. Whatever it takes. Isn't that enough?"
He raised his hands defensively. "Yeah, yeah. Calm down, alright? You're following orders now? Good. Start by disarming the bomb under the Cat. Maybe then I can take you on good faith."
"Fine." Happy tapped a sequence on her holoband. "Done."
"Deejay?"
"Confirmed. The device is no longer registering as a threat."
"Well, I'll be damned." He looked up at Happy. "Guess I'll cut you in on the job after all."
"Fine." She turned and stalked down the hallway, boots clomping as if trying to murder the floor.
Mateo glanced at Kilgore's pic on the screen. "She must really think something of that guy to change her mind like that."
Cash nodded. "Yeah. If by thinking something you mean 'murderous hatred' then you'd be right. But if it gets her to behave, then I'm all for it. Now let's get back to strategizing. How do we get our in, Deejay?"
"I ran every possible scenario, Cash. The mission is nearly impossible to accomplish. There are millions of ways for this to fail."
"You said nearly impossible."
"That's right. There's a slim chance of success if all the right elements come into play."
"Then let’s get all the right elements."
"Okay. To start, we need Jinx la Fox."
"Say what?"
$$
The doors to Jinx's cell rattled open. She looked up.
"I don't know what you told her," Cash said. "But she says we can't pull this off without you. Something about needing someone on the ground who understands binary and coding. She says you're one of the best out there."
Jinx stood, arching her back in a luxurious stretch. "Well, sounds like your girl knows what she's talking about. Guess she is the brains of this op. So, what is it you're trying to pull off?"
"A major bounty posted a short time ago. Much larger than the one on your head. I'm going for it. If you help out and we're successful, then I'll cut you loose. You can go scot-free."
"Chévere, Cash. But let's get something straight—I was free the moment you put me in here. I was just hitching a ride with you to throw the other Nimrods off my trail. But I'll lend my skills to your little bounty mission if you do something for me."
Cash lit a cigarillo and puffed. "Yeah? What's that?"
You help me get the bounty off my head, and we'll call it even."
"How am I supposed to do that? Selene isn't the type of person to cross over."
"Let me figure that out. But that's the deal. Take it or leave it."
"Fine. We're all probably going to die doing this anyway. But if you do your part and we make it out alive, I'll be glad to help you out."
"Good. I get my gear, my jacket, and my Cayenne back."
"What's so important about a see-through raincoat?"
"It's a cloaking suit, dummy."
"Yeah? Ok, I'm impressed."
"All of my gear. Back to me."
"Yeah, sure. But let me warn you: you try running off, and I'll track you down. I put nanosensors in your food and drink earlier. They're good for forty-eight hours before they leave your system. So don't think you can just give me the slip when my back is turned."
"What do you take me for—some jablador who won't keep her word? Don't worry; I'll do my part. Oh, and one more thing: If I'm part of the crew then I get paid like everyone else. I want my cut of the bounty when the job is over."
Cash choked on cigar smoke. "Say what?"
Chapter 10
The announcement was broadcast on every screen in the Territories at the same time. In vehicles, in homes, on massive moving billboards, in holographic projections—everywhere. For a few brief moments, General Kirk Hamilton had the attention of the entire fractured nation.
"Hello. My name is General Kirk Hamilton. Some of you may have heard of me from the exploits of my Blood Legion squadrons in the Red War. In fact, that is why I'm sending this message. The truth about the Red War has never been told. Not about what we found on Mars. And certainly not about why most of my soldiers died there. The official report was a battle against the last pocket of rebels at Olympus Mons. That report is a lie. What my soldiers fought weren't men. They were monsters."
Grainy video footage appeared onscreen. Eerie light flashed from a circular gateway in the distance, and hordes of murky, misshapen creatures poured from the entrance. Military airships and vehicles fired repeated barrages into the ranks of the alien beings, who appeared to alter shape at will and attack with unrestrained ferocity. Blood Legion soldiers fought the beings on the ground and the rocky cliffs, hundreds dying in a matter of seconds before the footage went black.
General Hamilton's face reappeared. "What the OWO and United Havens didn't tell you was that not only did we face extraterrestrial enemies in that battle, it was our people that constructed and opened the gate. We were used as guinea pigs; our lives expendable as the data received was considered more valuable than the human lives lost. Our survival was a fluke, a set of unexplainable circumstances that left us scarred for life without even knowing why. They never told us why we were sent to the region, never given any explanation about the beings that we fought. We returned home and were sworn to secrecy, our legacies and financial benefits dependent on silence and conspiracy. After all this time I have decided that we will be silent no more.
"I have assembled the New Legion—a brotherhood of soldiers who understand that true patriotism is about brotherhood, integrity, and the willingness to combat threats both abroad and at home. The lies and deception by the One World Order and the United Havens threaten not only the lives of the veterans of the Red War, but they also threaten the very existence of our world. The knowledge of an extraterrestrial menace shouldn't be a secret, but this information has been concealed, hidden from the public. This willful deception will end now.
"To prove our seriousness, the New Legion has captured the Los Nuevos Haven. We demand that the UH government openly reveals the details of what occurred on Mars and their plans to protect us from that threat. Secondly, the UH will offer a formal apology and full compensation to the fa
milies of the soldiers who died in the battle of Olympus Mons. Thirdly, we demand full pardons for our actions in this campaign for truth. If our demands aren't met, we will destroy Los Nuevos. With its main source of technological development and distribution in ruins, the economy of United Havens will crumble, and your security will be vulnerable to attack. In short, you will be weak. You will be frightened. You will be like us.
"Do not doubt or test our resolve. We will not bargain or engage in negotiation talks. You have twenty-four hours to see if you can do what we did on Mars: follow orders. If you don’t, there will be no further warnings."
The transmission ended, leaving the populace of the Territories in mass confusion.
$$
Kirk Hamilton stared at the wall console, where the massive screen divided into hundreds of sections, all showing reactions to his announcement. News reporters scrambled, trying to verify information. Haven residents responded with their opinions. Stony-faced HSSC reps tried to offer rebuttals and orchestrate damage control. It didn't matter. The truth was spreading.
He turned to Sergeant Chen. "The analysis shows ninety-seven percent broadcast delivery. Good work, Sergeant."
She responded with a modest shrug. "I'm working with the best tools on the planet. Almost kills the fun, actually."
"Even with Maximillian's interference?"
"He's tied in remotely, but he's vulnerable without his command center. I can stop his attempts to jam or shut down the system."
"And what about the attempted break-ins from outside?"
"Mercs and bounty hunters. The auto-defense system has been cutting them down. I checked the posts on the dark web. You're worth fifty mil, sir." She smiled as if proud of his criminal status.
Kirk looked out the window at the dead streets of Los Nuevos. "Something about this just isn't right."
"It's okay to have doubts, sir. But we can't stop now. Not when we're so close."
"I'm not talking about the mission." He turned from the window, frowning. "It's…something else. Almost as if this has been too easy. I just don’t believe Maximillian would allow his defenses to be penetrated so effortlessly. I smell a trap."
"Easy? The Legion has been fighting his remaining security since we've been here. We're down to a few last pockets of resistance, but it hasn't been easy. A few dozen men will be coming home in boxes. I lost two good friends taking this Haven. It hasn’t been easy, sir."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Sergeant. One man down is too many. But I'm afraid more losses will be imminent if we don't find the master of this maze of a city. We have his command center. Or what he wants us to believe is his command center. But he still has all of his secrets. He still might be able to disarm the explosives before they detonate."
"Not all of them at once. We made sure of that."
"You can't be sure. You still don't understand the man. You see his physicality, his arrogance, and think him some rich buffoon. He is much more than that. His intelligence is off the charts, matched only by his ruthlessness. Without him in custody, our plan is doomed to fail."
"You sent Kilgore to track him down. If anyone can find Maximillian, he can."
Kirk smiled sadly. "Yes. Kilgore can. But what will he choose to do when he finds him?"
$$
"I'm taking a huge risk coming here in person."
Special Agent Hessler glanced at the old Syrian man in the passenger seat of his RGA. Cruel runes furrowed the leathery skin of the man's sunbaked skin. He was dressed in tattered, oversized clothes that looked as if they had never been washed.
They were parked in one of the slums outside the Haven. Battered neighborhoods from Vegas' heyday were reduced to relics inhabited by squatters and other misfortunates; former romantics and idealists who once dared to dream of life in the Haven only to be flatly ignored by its inhabitants. Those who remained were survivalists. Predators and prey, scratching out whatever life they could in the heat and sand of the unforgiving desert.
"You look a little ridiculous in that disguise if you don't mind my saying so."
Jude Maximillian yanked the skin mesh from his face, transforming into his perfect looks once more. He fixed Hessler with a haughty stare. "Well, the point was not to attract attention, wasn't it? You sure no one can see in here? There are mercs and bounty hunter crews prowling all around out here."
"The windows are mirrored, the vehicle armored. You should know how well it works—you built it, after all."
"My corporation built it. I designed it." Maximillian took an imperious glance at the interior. "This model is ten years old. Why aren't you piloting the 5th gen model?"
"Budgets."
"Oh, for God's sake." Maximillian's lip curled in contempt. "The UH approaches the negotiating table like barefoot beggars every time. They forget I know exactly how much crypto they have amassed in their accounts."
"I'm surprised you would meet me outside of the Haven, Mr. Maximillian. Especially…out here."
"You think I should be afraid to walk on the other side of the energy shield, Agent Hessler? I often take unsupervised jaunts into the Territories while my carbon copy handles the redundant duties in my place. Havens were never supposed to be permanent, you know. This strange and uncivilized land is our home, our birthright. We'll never properly reclaim it while huddling in our beautiful, glittering prisons."
"Director Lynch would agree with you."
"I'm sure he does, which is the only reason why I agreed to this meeting. He still won't reveal how he's going to rid my Haven of those rebels, but I'm willing to allow him his secrecy. After all, he's come through in the past. My father told me he was a useful tool. He assisted my father, you know. Many times."
"I've…heard."
"So, you want to know how I get in and out of the Haven."
"Yes. If you can get out, then you can get me and my men in. We can take General Hamilton's New Legion soldiers out and disarm the bombs. We can save the Haven."
"You don't have the time."
"Why not?"
"Because a secret portal isn't any good if anyone can use it. I'm able to transport myself out the Haven using revived CDR technology. But it's attuned to my distinct biological signature. To reconfigure it would take more time than General Hamilton is allowing us."
"CDR?" Hessler sat back in his seat, stunned. "Carbon Disassemble/Reassemble tech? You're talking about teleportation."
Maximillian waved an impatient hand. "Yes, yes. It's not as if it's something new. They used the process pre-Cataclysm, you know."
"Yeah, but didn't that require the use of aberrant energy? Surely you haven't tried to tap into any remaining energy wells, have you?"
Maximillian never got the chance to answer, because the impossible occurred only yards away from the vehicle. One moment nothing was visible except the desolate view of ruined buildings and faded cactus plants. Then Kilgore appeared from nowhere in a flash of crackling blue energy, crouched with one fist planted against the scorched ground. He slowly straightened and looked at them. A wolfish smile spread across his face.
Maximillian's jaw dropped open. "That's impossible."
"Didn't you just say you could do that?"
"Yes. But not anyone else. I'm the only one with access to the technology."
"Stay here," Hessler said, finger hovering over the DOOR OPEN button. He was stopped by Maximillian's insistent hand on his arm.
"What are you doing? You don't leave the car, you fool. You never leave the car. Get us off the ground and use the vehicle's weapons. That's why they were installed."
Hessler suppressed a stab of irritation at Maximillian's superior tone, but he had to admit the man was right. He hit the thrusters, taking the RGA into LIFT mode. Arming threat detectors and auto-tracking guns, he wheeled the vehicle around for an offensive position.
Kilgore stood in a defiant stance on the ground. And although he was unarmed when he appeared, he now held what appeared to be a highly advanced pulse cannon mounted on his sho
ulder.
"That's an EMP cannon. He's going to take out our electronics," Maximillian screamed. "Evasive maneuvers!"
"Stop panicking," Hessler said as he engaged the controls. The missile struck the RGA despite his efforts. The vehicle lurched as the controls went haywire. Lights blinked on the consoles and the RGA dropped back to the ground. The emergency thrusters fired just before the vehicle struck, saving them from what would have been an injurious landing. It settled in a cloud of dust before the fusion motor went dead, leaving them stranded.
Hessler blinked through the grainy haze. Kilgore strode toward them like a stalking panther, no visible weapons in his hand.
Hessler yanked his handgun from its holster. "Guess we're getting out the car now."
"Thanks to your terrible flying skills." Maximillian tapped a sequence on his holoband. A glossy sheath spread from the device, oozing over his body like liquid until it covered him completely and hardened into segmented body armor. "Let's go."
"I'd prefer if you stayed here. My job is to protect you."
"My job is to protect me. I've been trained in combat skills superior to yours, Agent. No offense."
Hessler shook his head and exited the car. "Suit yourself."
When he stepped out, Kilgore was already there. His fist snapped forward, connecting with Hessler's chest. Hessler flew backward, confused about how Kilgore moved so quickly. His contemplation was interrupted when he hit the ground fifteen yards away, chest flaring in fiery agony as if his sternum shattered.
Gasping, he tried to stand but failed miserably. He settled for looking over where Maximillian did his best to engage in combat with Kilgore. The armor appeared to enhance Maximillian's strength and reflexes, allowing him to defend and counterattack, while he tried to keep Kilgore at bay with concussive blasts from his gauntlets.
Nimrod Squad Page 10
