Mega 6: No Man’s Island Page 2

  Sharp intake of breath.

  “Wonderful. Simply wonderful. Let’s get started.”

  ***

  The room was pitch black. Not even a hint that an outside world, or even an inside world, existed.

  Then the click of a switch and a single bulb above the man strapped to the chair came to life. A weak wattage in normal circumstances, but after the total absence of all light, the bulb might as well have been a massive spotlight.

  The man strapped to the chair gasped and squinted at the shape that stood before him.

  “You,” the man in the chair snarled. “I should have guessed they’d finally get to you.”

  “Tom. Tom, Tom, Tom. Do you think I’m that pliable? Come now,” the visitor said. “You know me better than that.”

  “I thought I did. At one time. Now? All I know is you are a stooge and whatever they have offered you will be taken away at some point.”

  “Of course it will. They all lie. At no point do I expect them to keep up their end of the deal. Why should they? When I lose my usefulness, they’ll send a squad to kill me and that will be that.”

  “You don’t sound too concerned.”

  “I’m not. I know they will double-cross me. The trick is to double-cross them first. And to accomplish what I came here to accomplish in the first place. As long as I can get the work done I need to get done then it will all be worth it.”

  “Will your daughter’s death be worth it?”

  The visitor paused. He placed a finger to his chin and stood there in faux contemplation for a good thirty seconds.

  “How should I answer that question?” the visitor mused to himself. “Probably by not answering it.”

  “Coward.”

  The visitor chuckled and leaned in close, his nose only inches from the man strapped to the chair.

  “Oh, Tom. Dr. Tom Thomas. You have no idea how wrong you are. If you had even a clue as to what I am up to, you would never utter that word in my presence again. Trust me.”

  “I used to trust you.”

  “And you will continue to do so. Once I’ve explained myself. If even after my explanation, you decide that what I have to say is not worth your trouble then you will be free to go. Of course, they’ll track you down within an hour and you’ll be dead on the street or possibly thrown into a dumpster. Whatever they do to you, it will not be pretty.”

  “And what are you going to do to me? I have a feeling it won’t be pretty either.”

  “No. No, it won’t be. But it will keep you alive. Ready to listen, Tom? My time is limited, so we need to get this show on the road or call it off. Your choice.”

  The man strapped to the chair snorted then locked eyes with the visitor.

  “My family?”

  “Safe. And if you listen and agree to my proposal then they will stay that way.”

  “I haven’t seen them in years.”

  “They are doing well. I’ll tell you all about them. But, first, you listen. Yes?”

  The man strapped to the chair nodded. “Yes.”

  “Excellent.”

  ***

  The small cooler was blue and white, just like the dozens of other coolers that dotted the picnic tables around the large park. The visitor set it down on a table that was as far away from occupied tables as he could get. He sat down on the bench seat that was in desperate need of a sanding and staining. Elbows on the table and fingers steepled, the visitor waited.

  “What’s this?” a woman asked as she sat down opposite the visitor. “A picnic?”

  “Open it, Ms. Horace,” the visitor said.

  “Do I dare?’ the woman replied, a sly grin on her face.

  The visitor shrugged.

  The woman waited, studied the visitor, then reached out and pressed the button that would unlock the lid. She swiveled it down and pulled the cooler closer. Her expression never changed as she regarded the contents.

  “Five sets of ears. How lovely. You shouldn’t have,” the woman said and the sly grin disappeared. “No, really, you shouldn’t have. You were tasked with bringing in all five of the defectors. Not pieces of them. And I am assuming these ears belong to the targets.”

  “They do and DNA testing will prove that,” the visitor said. “As for the bodies themselves, they are safely tucked away for a rainy day. I am no fool, Ms. Horace. I hand over those bodies and I lose a good deal of leverage.”

  “You’ve kept the bodies? How gruesome,” the woman said. “Keeping the bodies was not the deal. I could consider you in breach of contract and have my man take you out right here and now.”

  “You could do that,” the visitor agreed. “In fact, I think that’s exactly what you should do.”

  “Excuse me?” the woman responded with honest surprise. “You want me to kill you?”

  “I want you to try,” the visitor said. “That way we understand each other.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. She shrugged then gave a thumbs up. Nothing happened.

  “If I may?” the visitor asked as he reached his hand inside his light jacket.

  “What have you done?” the woman replied.

  The visitor withdrew a small walkie-talkie and depressed the button. He gave the woman a huge grin then said into the walkie, “Two to make a point.”

  A hunk of the picnic table went flying into the air then a second, showering the woman in sun-faded splinters. She didn’t flinch.

  “Ah, I see,” the woman said. “You brought your own man.”

  “You could say that, but you’d be wrong,” the visitor said. “Now, can we get down to business or do I need to continue the demonstrations?”

  “My man?”

  “Subdued, but alive,” the visitor said then hesitated. He put the walkie to his mouth. “He is still alive, yes?”

  “Yes,” a woman replied over the walkie.

  “Good to hear,” the visitor said and regarded the woman across from him. “She can get a little enthusiastic.”

  The woman frowned then nodded and closed the cooler. She stood up, cooler in hand, and glared at the visitor.

  “One day this will all come back to haunt you,” the woman said. “But for now, you are in. Full privileges. Do not abuse those privileges. You have done excellent work so far, do not ruin that record.”

  “Oh, I plan on expanding upon it. I have great and grand plans for the experimental biology division,” the visitor said. “Did you know that my wife is a leading researcher in cerebral biosciences? She will be an excellent asset to the company.”

  “I do not doubt that,” the woman said.

  “Goodbye, Ms. Horace,” the visitor said.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Ballantine. I look forward to your successes. And your failures.”

  The woman walked off and the visitor stayed put. After twenty minutes, a young woman sat down next to him.

  “Are you sure about this, Daddy?” the young woman asked.

  “No. Not at all. But it is the only shot we have to save you,” the visitor replied.

  “You and Mom could die because of this,” the young woman said.

  “We all die sometime, my love. We all die sometime.”

  The visitor put his arm around the young woman’s shoulders and pulled her close to him.

  “But not today.”

  “I should have killed her,” the young woman said. “I think I will. Later.”

  The visitor closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

  “Please do not say such things,” he replied after a few moments.

  “I know where she lives,” the young woman said, sounding like she was getting worked up. “They think I’m dead. They think…I…Daddy…?”

  The young woman’s eyes slid closed and she slumped against the visitor.

  “It’s too late, sweetheart,” the visitor said, a tear in his eye. “Too late. But I will make it right. I’ll even this score.”

  Chapter Two: Pullman Heating & Cooling

  Darby stood on the deck of the Beo
wulf III, her eyes locked onto the approaching ship. Barely over five feet tall and 100 pounds soaking wet, she could have been mistaken as a diminutive woman. Anyone that ever made that mistake in perception quickly learned the hard way just how wrong they were.

  “This is our ride?” Kinsey Thorne asked. “After everything, we’re back where we started. Caught up with this company that Ballantine works for.”

  “At no point would I say that Ballantine works for anyone but himself,” Darby replied.

  Kinsey didn’t argue. No one argued with Darby. And being an ex-junkie, Kinsey knew how to read people and dangerous situations. Darby was both at that moment.

  “You spoke with Ballantine about what’s wrong with you?” Kinsey asked.

  “I did,” Darby replied.

  “And?”

  “And I am a mess. What was done to me was supposed to be temporary. But, like with all of Ballantine’s plots and plans, that timeframe went sideways.”

  “Will you be alright?”

  Darby shrugged.

  “But you’re stable for now?”

  “For now. I will have to make a decision soon. Get rid of the passenger or let it ride and hope it doesn’t kill us.”

  “Ballantine is letting you make that choice?” Kinsey asked, surprised. “And Dana is alright with it?”

  “It’s not their brain and it is not their body. Both are mine,” Darby said. “Despite the fact they tucked away their daughter’s consciousness inside my head, it is still my head. I think they both know that if they even attempt to wrest personal control over my body from me, they will end up dead.”

  “You really are the only person that Ballantine fears,” Kinsey said. “Glad you’re on our side.”

  “Me too,” Darby replied.

  Kinsey took Darby’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Darby squeezed back before letting go.

  “You staying up here?” Kinsey asked. “Kind of a sitting duck.”

  “They won’t try anything until they’ve spoken with Ballantine. I may be the only person Ballantine fears, but Ballantine is the person everyone fears. The company will not make the mistake of attacking first without knowing what they are up against.”

  “A broken ship and a crew that is about ten steps past the point of cracking,” Kinsey said with a laugh. “That’s what they are up against.”

  “They are up against Team Grendel,” Darby said. “They don’t stand a chance.”

  Kinsey nodded and gave Darby’s shoulder a pat before she turned and walked to the closest hatch leading below decks.

  Darby continued to watch the large ship approach their retrofitted “research vessel.” A tiny voice in the back of her head said that she should be careful. Ballantine and Dana could get desperate, as any parent would when faced with completely losing their child. Darby had to wonder if that little voice wasn’t said child herself. It was hard to know.

  “Soon,” Darby whispered then turned and followed Kinsey down inside the ship.

  ***

  “You have got to be shitting me,” Darren Chambers said as he sat at a lab table and faced his best friend, Gunnar Peterson.

  Darren was an ex-Navy SEAL and current co-lead of Team Grendel. He looked the part. Tight black tee over a muscled torso with jeans that allowed movement, but also accented the fact that his thighs could break a man’s neck with one flex.

  Gunnar, on the other hand, was built like a man that spent all his time inside a lab. He was fit, but not as fit as Darren or any of the members of Team Grendel. However, with the way he was spinning a very sharp scalpel in and around the fingers of his right hand while he and Darren talked, it would have been mortal folly to take the doctor for granted.

  “I’m not shitting you,” Gunnar replied to Darren’s exclamation. “That’s what Darby told me. I did a full work up on her yesterday. Once I knew what I was looking for, I easily found it. There is an implant in the lower left quadrant of her cerebellum. The size of a microchip. It is so well hidden that anyone would miss it, no matter what equipment they were using to scan her.”

  “And that’s Ballantine’s daughter? On that chip?” Darren asked.

  “Yeah. Apparently, she was very similar to Darby in many aspects, so Dana believed storing the girl’s persona on a chip in Darby’s brain would help keep their daughter alive.”

  “Why do it? What happened?”

  “Insanity,” Gunnar said. “The young woman had been affected by a company program. Her psyche never recovered.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “Yeah. Very fucked up.”

  “What’s fucked up?” Max Reynolds asked as he came into the infirmary, a very large rifle resting over his shoulder.

  “What isn’t fucked up, dude?” Shane Reynolds said, entering right behind Max, his own large rifle resting in his arms.

  The Reynolds brothers were nine months apart and almost looked identical, both with yellow-blond hair, green eyes, and freckles across the nose—classic California surfer boy looks. But there was one easy way to tell the difference between—Max was missing his left ear and had scar tissue running from his scalp, down his neck, and onto his shoulder while Shane had only one eye, his left socket covered over with a black patch adorned with a prominent pot leaf.

  “Darby tell you what’s going on with her?” Gunnar asked Max.

  “They haven’t been doing much talking,” Shane said before Max could reply. “Jesus, those two are like bunnies hopped up on X. I’m two cabins down from them and even I can hear them going at it all night long.”

  “Darby’s appetite for lovin’ may have increased lately,” Max said. “And, yes, she told me what Ballantine finally admitted. You’re right, Ditcher, that is fucked up.”

  “Dude, don’t be a dick,” Darren said. “Yes, I left your cousin when she was at an all-time low. Yes, I divorced her when she needed me most. Yes, I was a dick. But that was years ago and me and Kinsey have worked through it. So stop calling me Ditcher, asshole.”

  “Can I still call you Ditcher?” Shane asked.

  “No, you can’t fucking still call me Ditcher,” Darren snapped. “No one gets to call me Ditcher!”

  The Reynolds gave each other a side look, grinned, and said, “Ditcher.”

  “I swear to fucking God,” Darren said and bolted up from his stool.

  “Knock it off,” Vincent Thorne said as he shoved through the Reynolds brothers and into the infirmary. “Boys, stop being little shits.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Vinny,” the brothers replied.

  “And you,” Thorne said, pointing at Darren. “Grow some thicker skin and stop taking the bait. As long as you react, they’ll keep fucking with you. So stop fucking reacting!”

  Thorne was a grizzled old ex-Navy SEAL commander and the other co-lead of Team Grendel. Kinsey Thorne’s father, the Reynolds’ uncle, and Darren’s former father-in-law, Thorne was older than the rest of the team by many decades. No one was stupid enough to think Thorne’s age diminished his combat or leadership capacity. All faces looked thoroughly chastised and heads nodded in agreement.

  “Good,” Thorne said. “Now, what is this bullshit I’m hearing about Darby having some device in her head? Is it explosive? Will I need to worry about her head blowing up while she’s on an op?”

  “Explosive? No, nothing like that,” Gunnar replied.

  “Then what is it like?” Thorne snapped.

  “It’s storage,” Gunnar said. “And I really shouldn’t tell you more. Darby is the one that can fill you in on the details.”

  Thorne glared at Gunnar.

  “Okay, yeah, well, maybe I can give you the Cliffs Notes,” Gunnar said. He proceeded to give Thorne the highlights of what he knew. “This does shatter doctor-patient confidentiality, but Darby is part of Grendel, so I guess you have a right to know.”

  “I have a right to know everything,” Thorne said. “Never forget that.”

  “Of course,” Gunnar said.

  “Hey, Uncle Vinny, you want
to know what I had for breakfast?” Shane asked.

  “You want to know what my breakfast looked like after it passed through me?” Max asked.

  “I do,” Shane replied. “Was it a cool shape?”

  “It was shaped like a snake,” Max said. “A poop snake.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Thorne muttered as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “At least I know my sister wasn’t at fault for what is wrong with you two. I blame your father for that. Thorne genes are too solid for the fucking numbnuts idiots you two are.”

  “We know you only say that with love in your heart, Uncle Vinny,” Max said.

  “So much love,” Shane said.

  “Group hug!” Max cried.

  The brothers wrapped their arms around their uncle and squeezed.

  “Just say the word and I’ll kill them both,” Darren said, barely able to contain his laughter. The look on Thorne’s face was priceless.

  “I need everyone in place,” Thorne said. “Now. The other ship is here and the meeting is about to begin. You know what you’re supposed to do, so do it.”

  No one moved.

  “Fucking get off me!” Thorne shouted.

  The Reynolds let go.

  “So much love,” Shane said.

  “All the love,” Max added.

  The brothers backed slowly out of the infirmary. Thorne stood there for a few seconds and gathered himself then turned on his heel and left as well.

  “Those two play a dangerous game,” Gunnar said.

  “What? Vinny loves them like sons. He acts like he hates the attention, but he doesn’t,” Darren said. “Trust me.”

  “If you say so,” Gunnar said. “You better get going. Where’s your station?”

  “The bridge with Marty,” Darren said. “Darby is on deck with Ballantine while the brothers are up in the crow’s nest on overwatch. Kinsey is down here as backup when called. Lucy is in the Toyshop with the elves and rest of the crew. If the shit hits the fan, which it will since we’re talking about Ballantine here, then Lucy brings the big guns and we do what Grendel does best.”