Mega 6: No Man’s Island Page 7

  But standing there wasn’t an option. She spun about and faced the field of corpses. If she ran as fast as she could, and was careful not to slip, she might make it to the far corner before getting shot. That was the best plan she could come up with.

  Nivia ran.

  Her eyes were focused on the blood and bodies. She planned out her route and stuck to it as she pushed her legs as fast as they could go while also maintaining a semblance of balance and control.

  “Hey!” someone shouted from behind her. “Stop!”

  She heard a couple more voices calling into their coms about her sighting. Nivia ignored what they were saying and kept running. She had no other choice.

  When she reached the end of the passageway, she pretty much threw herself around the corner. The gunfire started up and bullets pinged and dinged the walls, floor, ceiling. Nivia collapsed onto the floor and curled up in a fetal position, her arms wrapped around her head. She had made it out of direct line of sight, but it would only be a couple of seconds before the guards reached her and put some of those bullets they were recklessly firing around into her.

  “Yeah, you’re gonna want to get up.”

  Nivia gasped. Had she heard that?

  “Nivia? Get your ass up. Now!”

  Nivia opened her eyes, moved her arms, and stared up at the frowning face of Kinsey Thorne.

  ***

  “What are you shooting at?” Sterling called into the com as he made his way down yet another set of stairs.” Report!”

  “One of the crew,” a guard responded over the com. “A woman. She’s loose and we’re in pursuit.”

  “A woman? Kinsey Thorne?” Sterling asked. He reached the bottom of the stairs and sprinted down the passageway. “Be careful when you engage. She is highly trained.”

  “No, this wasn’t one of the operators,” the guard replied. “Some civilian.”

  “How the hell can you know that?”

  “She looked scared as hell and pretty much threw herself around the corner,” the guard responded. “She ran scared as all—”

  Gunfire filled Sterling’s com and he winced as the sounds pierced his eardrum.

  “Report!” he yelled as he kept running.

  “We’ve been engaged! We’ve been engaged!”

  “No shit,” Sterling muttered.

  With the chaos that erupted within the landscape of the covert underworld, all thanks to Ballantine, Sterling had been forced to recruit guards that were less than ideal candidates. They had the skills he needed them to have, but he preferred to put men and women through their paces so he knew who could stand up to the pressure. There simply hadn’t been enough time. Wire had insisted they pursue Ballantine immediately.

  Sterling was going to have to chat with her about the repercussions of that rash decision as he listened to guards die over the com.

  “Sterling? Report,” Wire’s voice cut into the com. “Do you have Kinsey Thorne yet?”

  “Heading that way now,” Sterling said as he descended more stairs and the sound of gunfire became something tangible ahead, not just an echo in his ear. “I can’t say for sure that she’ll live through this.”

  “Understood,” Wire replied. “Do what is needed for us to stay on mission.”

  “Roger that,” Sterling said. “I’ll report when I have her in hand or she’s dead.”

  “Good.”

  Sterling rounded a corner and sprinted to more stairs. The B3 was a never-ending labyrinth of passageways and stairways. He’d spent a good amount of his career, official and unofficial, on ships and he never got used to the claustrophobic feeling that the tight quarters instilled in him.

  Down the stairs he went, his mouth gaping as he saw the death and carnage. Bodies filled the passageway. A couple of them were still moving, but only barely.

  “Kinsey Thorne!” Sterling called out. “Show yourself, surrender your weapons, and come along quietly, and I’ll make sure none of your friends or family pay for this bullshit!”

  Sterling waited, but there was no response. He moved forward, ignoring the wounded guards as he made his way down the passageway. If they survived, they survived. He was on a mission and wasn’t going to be distracted by imbeciles that got themselves shot.

  “Kinsey Thorne!” he called out again when he was halfway down the passageway.

  Still no response.

  Sterling angled his route so he would be against the opposite wall of the corner. He expected the attack any second and he wanted the best angle possible to take out Kinsey when she showed herself.

  She never showed herself.

  Sterling reached the corner and fired three times as he turned into the next passageway. He was firing at nothing. No sign of Kinsey or anyone else.

  “Shit,” he growled as he studied the floor and the multiple sets of bloody bootprints. “At least there’s a trail.”

  ***

  “You two are going,” Kinsey snapped at Gunnar. “Fitting two was going to be tricky, but three isn’t happening, Gun. They aren’t looking for you and I doubt they even know Nivia exists.”

  “Seems like no one remembered I existed,” Nivia spat as the three of them hurried back to the specimen bay. “Kinda forgot me, didn’t you?”

  “You need to drop that shit,” Kinsey said. “It’s getting old. Dana got a bullet in the head, so you being overlooked is not the worst thing in the world right now, you hear me? Keep bitching and maybe I rethink that little rescue and leave your privileged ass here.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Nivia said.

  “Can we not?” Gunnar sighed. “Let’s focus on getting to the sub and off the ship. All three of us.”

  “Jesus, Gun, I told you there is no way three people are fitting inside the sub,” Kinsey said.

  “Then we don’t all fit inside,” Gunnar said. “Maybe one of us stays on the outside.”

  “On the outside? Are you crazy?” Nivia asked. “What am I saying? Of course you are. You’re all crazy.”

  “The outside…” Kinsey mused. “That might work. Only if there is a suit and mustache in the specimen bay.”

  “Pretty sure Popeye stashed compression suits and mustaches all over the ship,” Gunnar said. “He was pretty fired up about being prepared for when the B3 sank. Popeye didn’t have much confidence in our making it to a port in one piece.”

  “God bless that peg-legged, squint-eyed, son of a bitch,” Kinsey said. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  “A mustache? How is that going to help?” Nivia asked.

  They reached the last passageway and slid to a halt as they saw the guard standing by the hatch, his focus on the porthole and the specimen bay beyond.

  “Fuck,” Kinsey said as she took aim and fired.

  The guard’s head exploded and he dropped to the floor. The gunshot echoed down the passageway.

  “That’s gonna tell them right where we are if they haven’t guessed yet,” Kinsey said. “We need to double time it now. Move!”

  The three of them sprinted the last few meters, dodged the guard’s corpse and the copious amount of blood spilling from his headless body, and reached the specimen bay hatch. Kinsey checked through the porthole again then slung her M4 over her back, spun the wheel on the hatch, and yanked it open.

  “I’ll get the sub prepped while you two hunt down a compression suit and mustache for me,” Kinsey said then stabbed a finger under Gunnar’s nose. “No argument. If someone is on the outside, it’s going to be me.”

  “Wasn’t going to argue with you on that point,” Gunnar said. “You’re the one trained to handle the pressure of the depths without panicking.”

  “What the hell is a mustache?” Nivia asked as they stepped onto the grated catwalk that overlooked the semi-flooded specimen bay where a very, very small sub bobbed up and down in a couple meters of water. “Shit. Are we going in that?”

  “Unless you want to stay here,” Kinsey said as she climbed down a short ladder and jumped the space from the narrow
metal dock and over to the top of the sub.

  “Come on,” Gunnar said, pulling on Nivia’s arm. “Open all these lockers and cabinets. We need to find Kinsey a compression suit and mustache, which is a rebreather, so she can survive when we bail.”

  Nivia didn’t argue, and after a moment’s hesitation while she watched Kinsey disappear down inside the sub, she began tearing into lockers, figuring she’d know what a compression suit was when she saw it.

  There was a quiet hum and bubbles exploded from the rear of the sub. The bubbles were quickly replaced with a frothy tumult of trapped seawater and Kinsey appeared back on top of the sub.

  “It’s fired up and ready to go,” Kinsey said. “How’s it coming with the suit and mustache?”

  “Suit!” Gunnar yelled as he turned from an open locker. He hurried to the edge of the catwalk and threw the black rubber suit down to Kinsey. “Still looking for the mustache!”

  “Are these mustaches?” Nivia asked as she opened heavy duty case and stared at a row of black, curved bars. She plucked one out and held it up. “This?”

  “That’s it!” Gunnar yelled. He rushed over and took it from her. “Thanks.”

  He tossed it to Kinsey, who despite the fact she was still slipping into the compression suit, caught it easily. Gunnar motioned for Nivia to follow and climbed down to the metal dock then jumped over to the top of the sub.

  “Move ass,” Kinsey growled as Nivia hesitated.

  Nivia flipped her off and followed Gunnar.

  “Gun, you will have to be careful,” Kinsey said, once finished getting dressed. “This sub wasn’t designed to handle the power source the elves put in it. You’ll rip it apart if you go too fast. Three-quarter speed at the most or none of this is worth it. The sub will tear itself into pieces and we’ll all end up at the bottom of the ocean.”

  “That’s good to know,” Gunnar said as he blanched slightly. “No pressure.”

  “There’s always pressure,” Kinsey said. “Deal.” She focused on Nivia. “Once you two are sealed inside, you cannot panic. The space is too small for that. You start freaking out and thrashing and you’ll hit something important. Bottom of the ocean.”

  “I’m a nurse. I’m not going to panic,” Nivia said.

  “Then in you go,” Kinsey said. “Gun, I’m going to flood the specimen bay and open the doors. Then I’ll dive in and grab onto the sub. I set the com in the cockpit to a private channel. I’ll set the mustache to the same channel so we can talk. I’ll let you know when I’m on the surface of the sub and secure. Then we get the fuck out of here.”

  “Good plan,” Gunnar said and pointed at the hatch on top of the bobbing sub that Nivia was already climbing through. “I’m probably going to crash this thing and kill us all, you know.”

  “Probably,” Kinsey said and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Try not to.”

  She put the mustache under her nose and the rebreather activated, sending tendrils shooting up into her sinuses then down her trachea. Kinsey gagged a couple times until the mustache adjusted and settled. She gave Gunnar a thumbs up then jumped back to the metal dock so she could start the flooding and purge procedure.

  Chapter Six: We Don’t Talk About That

  “Huh,” Lake said then looked away from the bridge’s control console as the guard watching him and Darren turned his way.

  “Huh, what?” the guard asked.

  “What?” Lake replied.

  “You said huh,” the guard grumbled. “Why?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Lake said.

  “It wasn’t nothing,” the guard said as he leveled the M4’s barrel at Lake’s belly.

  “Calm down,” Lake said. “I thought I saw a pelican out there. It’s a little far from land, is all. Thought maybe we were getting close to an island.”

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” the guard said.

  “A pelican?” Darren asked. “What species? Could you tell?”

  “No,” Lake said. “Not without getting a specimen.”

  “You people are probably going to die and you want a specimen of a sea bird?” the guard scoffed. “Morons.”

  “A long time ago, we were strictly out here for research and scientific discovery,” Darren said to the guard. “Hard to break the habit.” He cleared his throat and looked at Lake. “A specimen? What kind of specimen?”

  “A mini one,” Lake said. “But it looks like it’s getting away.”

  “You two need to shut up,” the guard said. “No more talking about this specimen bullshit. Sit there and be quiet.”

  “Aye aye,” Lake said and gave the guard a mocking salute.

  Lake smiled at the guard until it grew painfully uncomfortable and the guard looked away. Then he caught Darren’s eye and glanced at the control console. Darren’s gaze followed Lake’s and his eyes went wide briefly then returned to a normal, bored state.

  The light indicating the specimen bay was being flooded was blinking over and over. Then it went a solid orange, telling both Lake and Darren that the bay doors were opening.

  “My guess is that it was a ‘Sey pelican,” Darren said.

  “Of the genus Thornicus?” Lake replied.

  Darren rolled his eyes.

  “That’s the Latin name, yeah?” Lake said, struggling not to smile.

  “That’s the Latin name,” Darren agreed. “Could be Gunnarus too, though. One or the other.”

  “Or both,” Lake said.

  “I said to shut up!” the guard barked. He whipped his M4 around and the butt smashed Lake in the nose.

  “Fucker!” Lake cried as he pressed his hands to his face, hoping to staunch the immense flow of blood that was spewing from both nostrils. “You fucking broke my nose!”

  The M4 was whipped back around and the barrel was aimed at Darren even though he hadn’t moved a muscle.

  “We’ll shut up,” Darren said.

  “Like hell we will!” Lake yelled. “This little fuck broke my nose!”

  “You want me to shoot it off instead?” the guard said, racking the M4’s slide for effect.

  “Marty, chill,” Darren warned. “Let it go and focus on looking for more wildlife. The fauna will tell us a lot about where we stand.”

  “You want those to be your last words?” the guard asked.

  Darren held up his hands in a placating gesture. Lake mumbled a hundred more curses then nodded and held up his hands, letting the blood flow freely.

  “Good,” the guard said. “Say another word and I shoot you where you sit.”

  Darren nodded then Lake nodded.

  Once the guard had semi-relaxed, Lake and Darren turned their attention to the control console and the specimen bay light that had just turned green.

  ***

  “Shit!” Sterling shouted as he looked through the porthole and into a flooded, and empty of a sub, specimen bay. “Fuck!”

  He pounded his left fist against the sealed hatch until the pain grew to be too much. He shook it off and continued to stare through the porthole as he calmed down enough to calculate his next step. Sterling’s finger went to his ear.

  “Resurrection? This is Hill,” Sterling called into the com. “I want sonar scanning the area for a mini-sub or any type of submersible. Copy?”

  “Resurrection here. We copy,” a voice responded. “You let someone slip away, Hill?”

  Sterling sighed at the snarky tone of the voice.

  “No, Jones, I didn’t let anyone slip away,” Sterling said. “The useless guards we hired because we needed disposable bodies ended up becoming disposable a lot faster than anticipated. They let someone slip away.”

  “Passing the blame, are we? Tsk, tsk, Sterling,” the voice said.

  “Bite me, Jones,” Sterling snapped. “You should have had eyes on everything. That’s what all that fancy bullshit equipment of yours is for.”

  “Need I remind you that I am the XO of the Resurrection, Hill?” Mordecai Jones responded. “I’m your superior officer a
nd you’ll want to treat me as such.”

  “Cut the superiority shit, Jones,” Sterling barked as he began backtracking through the ship. “You’re XO because you’re good at staying behind and sitting on your ass. Not because anyone takes you seriously. Wire runs everything and no one believes otherwise, you pompous ass.”

  “Guys, knock off the back and forth,” a different voice interrupted. “United front or we could end up losing everything.”

  “Sellars? What the hell are you doing on the com?” Sterling barked.

  “Yes, Sellars, why are you offering an opinion? No one wants you involved,” Mordecai asked.

  “Because every damn time I don’t get involved, one of you gets us into deep shit,” Nigel Sellars replied over the com. “Tanzania, anyone?”

  “Cram that fiasco up your ass, Sellars,” Sterling said.

  “Yes, I quite agree with Hill,” Mordecai said. “Cram it sideways, if you please.”

  “Turn it on me all you want, boys, but Wire values my advice,” Nigel said. “And as long as I have her ear, you might want to start listening to me. Stop fighting and start working.”

  “Oh, Sellars,” Mordecai said. “You know I can have a man come down and put an end to you right now, yes? You do know that, right?”

  “Try it, Mordecai,” Nigel replied. “Please. We’ll see how that all works out for you.”

  “Drop it, Jones,” Sterling said, halfway back to the upper decks of the B3. He ascended a set of stairs and snapped his fingers at three guards. “You three. Go down and sweep the ship from bottom all the way to the top.”

  “Only the three of us?” one of the guards asked. “That’s a lot of ship to cover.”

  “Then move your asses!” Sterling shouted.

  “Excellent management technique,” Mordecai said over the com.

  “Don’t start,” Nigel said before Sterling could respond. He cleared his throat. “What exactly are you sweeping the ship for?”

  “Kinsey Thorne,” Sterling admitted reluctantly. “She’s evaded capture. We had her and Dr. Peterson in the infirmary, but that went south. She killed the guards when they killed Dana Ballantine.”