Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) Page 18

  Dr. Morganton shook her head, but didn’t argue. She descended the stairs two at a time then hurried to the gangplank and down to the dock. She wanted to run, to sprint, to get away from the ship as fast as possible while getting to the beach even faster, but she kept her pace to a casual hurry.

  Down on the beach she could see Lucy and Shane standing on either side of the group of captives, while Darby stood over Max’s stretcher, their attention turned towards the bay and the water beyond. Darby looked at Dr. Morganton as she rushed across the dock’s planks, but she showed no emotion or alarm.

  “They’ve escaped,” Darby said as Dr. Morganton rushed across the sand to her.

  “Yes. How did you know?” Dr. Morganton asked.

  “Because it was about time,” Darby said, “Gil doesn’t like to be caged.”

  “You knew he would get out of the brig?” Dr. Morganton exclaimed.

  “Keep your voice down,” Darby snapped. “I don’t know what their signal is, so you going off at the mouth does not help.”

  “Going off at the…” Dr. Morganton trailed off. “Are you nuts? There are mercenaries loose on the B3! You need to get up there and stop them!”

  “I don’t see anything,” Max said from his stretcher on the sand, his rifle to his shoulder and scope to his eye. “I don’t even see Lake on the bridge.”

  “Hopefully, he’s hiding,” Darby said. “I warned him about Gil. That Lug person I don’t know, but Gil is not a man you take for granted.”

  “Everything cool?” Shane called out from several feet away.

  “Good, bro,” Max said. “Just testing my sight. Don’t want the pain meds to hamper my perfect shooting record.”

  “Keep dreaming, dude,” Shane said. “The only thing perfect about your shooting record is how awful it is.”

  “That’s a blatant lie,” Max cried out. “Oh, how you have wounded my ego, dear brother! For shame! For shame!”

  “How can you two joke right now?” Dr. Morganton asked.

  “I’m not joking,” Darby said.

  “No, I meant the boys,” Dr. Morganton replied.

  “I’m joking so we look natural,” Max said. “I have no idea what’s going on, but I trust Darby, so I’ll let her take lead. If she says to be chill then I’m going to be chill.”

  “I never said to be chill,” Darby said.

  “It was inferred by your nonchalant attitude to the doctor telling us that the prisoners had escaped,” Max replied.

  “She didn’t tell us,” Darby responded, “I told her.”

  “Oh, my God!” Dr. Morganton snapped. “Will you shut up? The B3 is under siege!”

  “It is not under siege,” Darby said. Several gunshots rang out across the water. “Now it’s under siege.”

  Darby activated her com, but never got the chance to hail Ballantine. She collapsed onto the beach and across Max’s legs right before Dr. Morganton’s eyes.

  “What the fuck?” Max cried out then grabbed at the back of his neck and doubled over Darby’s body.

  “Oh, God!” Dr. Morganton shrieked. “Shane!”

  She spun about, but Shane and Lucy were already down. Her eyes went from the fallen snipers to the group of captives in front of her. A short Indonesian man stepped out from the group with a huge hairy man in a foot brace right next to him.

  “Howdy,” John Bill grinned, “the name’s John Bill and I’ll be accompanying you inside the facility now.”

  “Be cool and you won’t get hurt,” Slaps said. “Just follow my buddy here and it’ll all be good.”

  Dr. Morganton stood there, stunned, her eyes going from the fallen operators to the men in front of her and then back to her friends.

  “How?” she asked.

  “They did a lousy job searching us,” John Bill said as he opened his hand to reveal a small tube. He opened his other hand and showed her several small darts. “Not very professional of them.”

  More shots rang out from the ship, but Slaps held up a hairy hand so Dr. Morganton would pay attention to him.

  “Never mind that,” Slaps said, “you’re going with JB. You’re going to go inside that facility and help our friends.”

  “I don’t know the code,” Dr. Morganton replied.

  “Doesn’t matter,” John Bill said, “I have the code. I just need your warm finger to enter it in.” He smiled as Dr. Morganton’s eyes went wide. “Yes, we know about the biometrics protocol installed within the keys themselves.”

  “This isn’t my facility,” Dr. Morganton said, “it won’t recognize me.”

  “Oh, it will,” John Bill said as he took Dr. Morganton by the elbow. “Your signature is programmed into both facilities.”

  “How do you know that?” Dr. Morganton asked. “I didn’t even know that!”

  “Our employers were very thorough with their briefing package,” John Bill replied. “They made sure to prepare for everything.”

  He reached into his pants.

  “Oh, no, please,” Dr. Morganton pleaded.

  “What? Oh, gross, come on,” John Bill said as he pulled out a short knife. “You’re cute, but a little old for me and not my type.” He tossed the blade to Slaps who caught it easily.

  “Thanks,” Slaps said as he started to cut the captive crew free from their bonds. He got the first man free and handed him the knife. “Get the others free then take the weapons off those fucks and get them loaded onto the ship. As soon as that’s done, you get your butts back here. You don’t want to be anywhere near that ship when it heads back out into the water.”

  The freed man nodded and took the knife. He cut the bonds on the man next to him then gave that man the knife so he could be freed. Slaps walked over and picked up Max’s rifle then looked over at John Bill and smiled.

  “I got this,” Slaps said, “you go find Tank and Bokeem.”

  “Come on, Doc,” John Bill said, “let’s go say hello to Ballantine.”

  ***

  Everyone could see that Ballantine was impatient to get through the atriums, but they ignored him as they stared at the incredible sights held in the cells before them. Even Darren couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though his life’s obsession was housed in the lagoon just on the other side of a few more doors.

  “What the hell is that?” Darren asked. “Looks like a Komodo Dragon on steroids.”

  “Megalania,” Gunnar said.

  “Yes, very good, Doctor,” Boris said, “that’s exactly what it is, and that there is-”

  “Titanoboa,” Kinsey said. “Yeah, we know what those fuckers look like.”

  “Oh, you’ve encountered one?” Boris asked, looking to Ballantine. “I was not aware there were any in the wild.”

  “Accidents happen,” Ballantine said.

  “That they do,” Boris smiled, “that they do.”

  “Am I the only one creeped out by that interchange?” Darren whispered to Kinsey.

  “No secrets in class, kids,” Ballantine said. “Boris? Are we finished here with the tour of reptile predators? I’d really like Darren to see theLivyatan Melvillebefore the day gets away from us.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Boris said, “this way.”

  The man led them through a door at the far side of the atrium and into a corridor that led to the next atrium. Instead of going forward, the doctor pressed his hand to a square in the center of the corridor’s blank wall. That wall slid back to reveal a spiral staircase that wound its way down several stories.

  “Sorry about this,” Boris said, “there are no elevators in the facility. It’s safer that way.”

  “Then how do you move the animals around?” Tank Top asked. It was the first thing he’d said since entering the atriums. “Teleport them?”

  He laughed, then let it die away as he saw the look on Boris’s face.

  “Fuck me,” Bokeem whispered as he turned to Ballantine, the same realization hitting him as well. “How the holy fuck did you manage that, Ballantine?”

  “I
t’s not safe yet for humans,” Ballantine said.

  “Teleportation?” Thorne asked. “Seriously?”

  Ballantine shrugged then started walking down the staircase. “Coming?”

  Everyone followed him, with Darren right behind Boris and Ballantine while Thorne and Kinsey took the rear just behind Tank Top and Bokeem. Neither father nor daughter caught the quick glances that Tank Top and Bokeem gave each other. If they had, they may have seen what was to come next.

  ***

  Lake lay on the floor of the bridge, his head bleeding and hands clamped to his leg.

  “Where’d they go?” Mike asked as he rushed inside the bridge. “Did they leave the ship?”

  Lake started to respond, but it was too late. Mike collapsed to his knees, then onto his face, the carbine skittering across the bridge as Gil stood over the man with a fire extinguisher in hand.

  “Get the M4,” Gil said to Lug who stepped over Mike’s body and picked up the carbine immediately. “Get Tank Top on the horn.”

  Gil looked at Lake and shook his head.

  “Man, you are getting the shit kicked out of you,” he laughed. “I hope Ballantine pays you well.”

  “Suck my dick,” Lake said.

  “He pays you by sucking your dick?” Gil grinned. “You’re getting the short end of that deal.”

  “Ha, short end!” Lug laughed. “Good one.”

  “What?” Gil asked then got his own unintentional pun. “Short. Like Ballantine’s dick.”

  Lug flicked a switch on the com console.

  “Tank? We’ve got the bridge and it looks like John Bill has things covered on the beach,” he said into a mic. “You read me, Tank?”

  “I read you, Lug,” Tank Top responded. “We’ll take care of things on our end.”

  “Good luck,” Lug said.

  “Thanks. Now kill the com and don’t contact us again in case the nerds can listen. We’re on autopilot from here on out.”

  “Copy that.”

  ***

  Before Thorne could ask who Tank Top was talking to, the man spun about and threw himself up the stairs at Thorne’s legs, taking him out at the knees. The old SEAL fell over the top of Tank Top and into Bokeem, who tossed him aside like a bag of old laundry, sending him down into the rest of the group.

  “Daddy!” Kinsey yelled as she put her carbine to her shoulder.

  Tank Top was faster. He rolled to the side and slammed himself into Kinsey’s lower legs, sending her down at Bokeem as well. Bokeem didn’t send her down after her father; instead, he gripped her about the throat with his hands and leaned in close to her face.

  “Nobody moves!” Bokeem yelled down at the stunned Boris, Ballantine, Gunnar and Darren, who were untangling themselves from Thorne. “If you think about coming at us, I’ll snap her neck before that thought even makes it halfway across your brains! All weapons on the ground!”

  Everyone complied.

  “Uh-oh,” Ballantine said from below, “I guess we better do what you say.”

  “God, I hate you, Ballantine,” Tank Top said as he got up and pulled a knife from Kinsey’s belt. He flipped it about and cut his bonds then pressed it against Kinsey’s neck. “One flick and you’re dead, junkie.”

  “Not a junkie anymore,” Kinsey said.

  “Once a junkie, always a junkie,” Tank Top said, “which means I won’t take you for granted.”

  He slammed his fist into her temple then slid his arm under her shoulders as she fell, unconscious.

  “Stop right there!” he said as he put the knife to her throat again when Darren started to move.

  Tank Top carefully set Kinsey onto the steps and placed a boot against her throat. He held out the knife and Bokeem took it and freed himself. The two men grinned down at Ballantine and ignored the rest.

  “You have been a very bad man, Ballantine,” Bokeem said, “and our employers would like a word with you. Since they had a feeling you might bring us here that word is going to have to wait.”

  “Who are your employers?” Ballantine asked. “No, let me guess, it was a blind drop and you never met face to face, right?”

  “Of course,” Tank Top said.

  “They fed you a bunch of intel on me, on my Team, on this island, yes?” Ballantine continued. “Then they informed you that the cartels and Somalis would be joining you in the hunt, but didn’t know the whole story. They were only muscle and once you handed them the Thorne’s, you were supposed to get me to bring you here. Once you had access to the facility then you’d kill everyone and contact your employers. The rest of your money would then be wired to your accounts and you’d live the rest of your life in luxury.”

  “Something like that,” Tank Top said, “those are some pretty good guesses.”

  “I wrote the book on most of this shit,” Ballantine said, “or at least read all the books already written.”

  “I should read more,” Tank Top said, “but who has the time?”

  “Only one problem,” Ballantine said. “There’s a very large shark headed this way.”

  “Yeah, we know that,” Bokeem said. “That’s why we won’t kill any of you right away. We’re going to keep the junkie with us while the rest of you get on that ship of yours and go kill it for us.”

  “Are you nuts?” Gunnar asked.

  “The shark is Ballantine’s mess,” Tank Top said, “which means it’s his Team’s mess. You’re his Team, so go do Team things.”

  “When you said ‘the rest of you’, I assume that excludes me,” Ballantine said. “You want me to stay right here since your employers hired you to capture me.”

  Tank Top and Bokeem only glared.

  “Just crossing I’s and dotting T’s,” Ballantine smiled. “I’d hate for you two to lose your reputations in the mercenary community.”

  “Fuck you,” Tank Top said.

  “Yes, well, no time for that,” Ballantine said, “better let my Team get out there and kill that shark.”

  Bokeem shook his head. “You are the most fucked up dude I have ever met, Ballantine,” he said. “How has no one put a bullet in your head yet?”

  “I’m too valuable,” Ballantine said, then put his hand to his mouth and said in a stage whisper. “I know where all the bodies are buried.”

  “That would make them want you dead even more,” Tank Top said.

  “Not if you want to find one of the bodies,” Ballantine laughed as he tapped at his temple. “Think it through, Jason. You have to think all the angles through. That was one of your many flaws when we worked together. You never saw all the angles.”

  “Your new Team does?” Tank Top asked.

  “Not all of them, no,” Ballantine frowned, “but they will.”

  Bokeem pointed the knife at Darren. “You. Get the old man and the fag out of here. Ballantine, the Russian, and the junkie stay here. Kill that shark and then we’ll talk about how you might get out of this alive.”

  “You hurt her and you won’t live to have that talk,” Darren snarled.

  “I’m not Russian,” Boris stated. “Why does everyone think I’m Russian? I was born in-”

  “Not now, Doctor,” Ballantine said.

  “Sorry,” Boris nodded.

  “Move,” Bokeem said to Darren. “I won’t tell you again.”

  “Can you find your way out of here?” Ballantine asked Darren.

  “Yeah, no problem,” Darren said, “but won’t we need codes to get from one atrium to the next?”

  “Nope,” Ballantine said.

  “But-”

  “Don’t argue,” Ballantine interrupted, “just go.”

  Darren and Gunnar helped a groggy Thorne to his feet then ascended the steps. Once they got to where Tank Top and Bokeem stood with Kinsey, it became a tight squeeze and the tension of sudden violence loomed in the air. Then they were past the mercs and headed back to the atrium levels.

  Tank Top watched them reach the top. He smiled once they were gone and looked back down at Bal
lantine.

  “Now we have some fun,” Tank Top said. “Time to show me the goodies.”

  “The goodies?” Ballantine asked. “Not sure what you mean. Jason.”

  “The data,” Tank Top said as he looked about the dark staircase. “You think I’m going to leave this place without the research files? That shit is worth a million times what our employers are paying us.”

  “But, he can’t-” Boris began.

  “Hush, now, Doctor,” Ballantine said, “we better give him what he wants. He’ll kill us if we don’t.”

  Ballantine held his hands high and waited as Bokeem came down and picked up an M4.

  “Which way?” Bokeem asked.

  “Down,” Ballantine said, “down, down, down.”

  “Lead the way then,” Tank Top shouted as he yanked Kinsey to her feet and threw her over his shoulder. She was unconscious dead weight and he had to keep readjusting her body as he followed the other men down into the depths of the facility. “Oh, and Ballantine?”

  “Yes, Jason?”

  “You try anything and John Bill kills Dr. Morganton, got it?”

  Ballantine looked over his shoulder and up at Tank Top.

  “Well, I wouldn’t want Dr. Morganton to be in any danger, now would I?” Ballantine replied.

  Tank Top just frowned and nodded for them to keep moving.

  ***

  “I can walk, I can walk!” Thorne growled as he pushed Darren and Gunnar’s hands away. “I can fucking walk!”

  “Fine,” Gunnar said as they reached the last door that opened onto the corridor that led outside. “Then fucking walk.”

  Darren opened the door and they all jumped back.

  “Son of a bitch,” Darren said as they looked at the dead Indonesian man on the floor, his head ripped right from his neck and resting a few feet from him against the wall. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

  “One of the crewmembers,” Thorne said. “I recognize him from the beach.”

  “How the hell did he get his head torn off?” Gunnar asked. “Who did this? Do you know the strength it takes to tear a man’s head off?”

  “Yes,” Thorne said, “I know exactly the strength it takes.”