Brainrush 03 - Beyond Judgment (43 page)

When they were finally out of earshot, Victor positioned himself so that Hans’s back was to the crowd. Victor noticed a few people still scrutinizing the pair, so he offered Hans a consoling smile and waited.

Hans understood the cue. He lowered his voice. “Half of our team was just taken out by a drone of some sort.”

The news cut deep. First, Australian commandos, he thought. And now a drone? This was more than an exploratory mission. He felt his eye twitch. Anger battled with composure, and he forced himself to take two calculated breaths before speaking.

He lowered his voice. “Pull the squads inside. Then seal the hatches, collapse the tunnels, and deploy the remote guns. I don’t want anything left alive up there.” He nodded and smiled at a passing couple. Then he motioned toward the door. “Wait until you leave the room before issuing the order. The last thing we need right now is panic.”

Grid Countdown: 1h:31m:30s

The Island
6:00 a.m.

“
A
CTIVE DEFENSE SYSTEM
detected
,”
Mother Ship
reported. The drone hovered over the jungle a hundred meters behind Tony and the Aussies.

Everyone checked their screens at once. The image zoomed on a compact machine-gun turret that had popped out of the jungle floor. A snare drum–size fixture rotated above it, bristling with lenses and sensors. The deadly box-fed weapon system sported an eighteen-inch barrel that swiveled from side to side.

As Tony’s mind processed what he was seeing, the image shifted to a second turret rising into position.

“
Active defense system detected
,”
Mother Ship
reported again.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said.

Another turret revealed itself. Then another. Two beats later, the drone rose to a higher altitude and announced, “
Multiple active defense systems detected
.”

“Drop to the ground!” Becker ordered. “No movement!”

Tony flattened himself against the moist earth.

“
Descending. Confirm landing command
,”
Mother Ship
said. It had construed Becker’s order as a command entry. The ground rushed upward on the screen as the drone descended.

“No!” Becker shouted. “
Mother Ship
. Abort last command!”

“Aborting com—” A burst of heavy machine-gun fire silenced the transmission. Tony’s wrist screen went blank.
Mother Ship
was destroyed.

“Nobody move!” Becker ordered. “There’s no telling if there are any nearby.”

Two chatters of more gunfire echoed from the distance.

The backup teams broke radio silence. “Raider Three under heavy fire. Taking casualties!”

“Three and Four, fall back immediately,” Becker ordered. “Return to the ship. Repeat. Return to the ship. And stay low!”

There was another chatter of gunfire. The voice that responded on the comm net was laced with reluctance. “Acknowledged, Raider One. Raiders Three and Four returning to ship.” A moment later he added, “Godspeed, sir.”

“The turrets seem to be concentrated inside the tree line,” Tony said. His cheek was plastered to the ground, the boom mike from his headset pressed into his skin. He knew that if one of the turrets was aimed this way, the sensor would detect the slightest movement. “If so, the closer we get to the pool, the safer we’ll be.”

Becker’s face was turned away from Tony. He wasn’t budging either. “Great theory,” he said. “How we gonna test it?”

“Watch your heads, boys,” Cal’s voice suddenly said over the comm.

Overhead, Tony heard what sounded like the approaching motor of an old VW bug. The lush canopy twisted and swished as the stealth chopper streaked by. It was an eerie sight, Tony thought, without the familiar thrum of the rotors.

Tony’s eyes went wide as the chopper dove toward the pool like a fighter on a strafe run. At the last possible moment, the tail rotor dipped, the nose pitched to the side, and the helicopter
crabbed to a sideways stop like a hockey skater on ice. It banked so hard on its side that it seemed to Tony as if the primary rotor blades were about to lick the water. A huge bundle of equipment slid from its door and splashed into the pool. A ring of inflated bladders kept it on the surface. None of the remote turrets had opened fire. The chopper kept moving, righting itself and continuing sharply upward. It was so close to the falls that it disappeared in the mist.

“Eeeee-hah!” Cal shouted over the comm net as the chopper popped back into view. “Special delivery, boys. Lungs and ammo at your service.”

Tony let out a held breath. “You crazy bastard!” he said over the comm.

“You kidding?” Cal said. He hovered the chopper a hundred meters overhead. “That was a blast. So now what?”

Becker belly-crawled toward the water. Tony was right behind him.

“Stay flat, lads,” Becker said. “Snake toward the pool. No standing till you make water’s edge. After that I reckon we’re clear. If that screamin’ brumby didn’t draw fire, then I’m sure you brown-eyed mullets will pass unnoticed. First two to the water, retrieve that gear before the next whirlpool ruins our day.”

Then he said, “Rogue Two-Four. We’ve got two to evac. There’s not enough tree clearance for you to land on shore. So drop and hover for a water retrieval.”

A few minutes later, Philly’s body was aboard the helicopter. So was Andrew. He waved from the open doorway as it gained altitude and turned toward the trees. Tony and the rest of the team had donned their scuba gear. Sergeant Fletcher was the first to sink below the surface. Jonesy and one of other operators followed. Operator Hollister hung back to wait for Becker and Tony.

“You up for this?” Becker asked, donning his mask. He and Tony were knee-high in the water.

“Hell yes,” Tony said. He spit into his mask and used his fingers to coat the lens. “It’s time for some payback.”

Becker wrapped his lips around his regulator and nodded. Tony was about to do the same when he noticed movement over Becker’s shoulder.

A lone gunman staggered into the clearing, the soldier apparently shielded from the remote guns by his implanted RFID chip. Smoke drifted from the remnants of his uniform. His torso and head were scorched, and his eyelids had shriveled into his skull, exposing milky eyeballs that stared at nothing. But his hearing apparently still worked. The man turned his head to one side and aimed with his ear. The muzzle of his assault rifle rose, and he let loose on full auto. The first blast nearly cut Hollister in half. The operator was dead before he hit the water. An advancing line of pockmarks stitched their way toward Becker.

Tony lunged forward, shoving Becker so hard that the Aussie was swept off his feet and hurled across the water. Tony grunted in pain as a slug bit hotly into his thigh. His body twisted from the impact, and he splashed into the pool. More bullets zipped past him.

Strong hands pulled Tony under. A regulator was shoved into his mouth, and he was yanked deeper. He resisted at first, unsure what was happening. He blocked his body’s instinctual urge to panic and forced his vision to focus. Stern eyes stared at him from behind a face mask. It was Becker, urging him to awareness.

Tony stopped struggling, allowing himself to sink with the Aussie. Becker used his buoyancy compensator to stabilize them ten feet or so below the surface. They were well clear of the underwater funnel. Becker held his palm in front of Tony’s face mask. It was a signal to wait. Then he pointed to two dark shadows swimming upward toward the surface. It was Jonesy and Sergeant Fletcher. Going to take care of business.

Tony nodded. He used his fingers to make the okay sign. His leg was on fire, and a thick trail of blood swirled from the bullet
wound. A minute later, Jonesy was at his side. He and Becker led Tony to the surface and helped him to shore. Sergeant Fletcher was on the radio with Cal. Hollister’s body had been pulled to the water’s edge. Operator Karch knelt beside him, his weapon panning the tree line.

Jonesy cinched a tourniquet above Tony’s wound. He cut through the uniform at Tony’s thigh and probed. Tony winced. It felt like a branding iron. “Hold still,” Jonesy said, pulling out his knife. “The bullet’s lodged right next to your femoral artery. I’ve got to remove it. It’s gonna hurt.”

Becker crouched beside him. He cocked his arm as if he were about to throw a dart. Tony saw it just in time, and his meaty hand caught the Aussie’s wrist just before the morphine needle went into Tony’s shoulder.

“None of that shit!” Tony snapped.

“Stop moving,” Jonesy ordered.

“Just do it!” Tony said behind clenched teeth. He let out a steady growl as the knife went in. The pain blurred his vision.

But he didn’t move his leg.

“Got it,” Jonesy said, dropping the bullet into Tony’s hand. “Looks like a five-six-two. Must’ve ricocheted off the water. Otherwise it would’ve gone clean through. You’re lucky.” He slowly released the pressure on the tourniquets. The wound bled but didn’t spurt. He nodded and applied a thick pressure bandage. “You’re going to limp for a while. But you’ll live.”

“Good,” Tony said. “Then you can tell Cal we don’t need him. I’m going with you.”

Becker said, “Sorry, Tony. I can’t allow it. Neither would you if you were in charge. And you know it. You’ll endanger the rest of us. You’ve done your part, but you’re gonna have to sit the rest of this one out.”

“Bullshit!” Tony said. But the word came out slurred. And he suddenly felt dizzy.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Becker said. “Which is why Jonesy dosed you when you grabbed my wrist. Sorry, but you’re going for a chopper ride.”

The last thing Tony remembered was Becker saying, “Thanks for saving my life, mate. I promise I’ll put it to good use.”

Grid Countdown: 1h:20m:30s

The Island
6:11 a.m.

J
AKE ESTIMATED THE
size of the four-story underground complex at 150,000 square feet, about half the size of a Forrestal-class aircraft carrier. It could easily house a couple thousand people. It had been carved out of the base of one of the island’s twin peaks. He walked briskly down the underground corridor. Colored stripes on the floor coincided with directional wall placards. He used the memorized schematic to make his way toward the top-level exit, at one point ducking into the
FIRE DEPARTMENT
to avoid a group of guards. He followed a circuitous route, avoiding the
DORM, SCHOOL,
and
MEDICAL
areas, sticking to less-used corridors and utility stairwells.

He was halfway to the surface when he encountered a group of women and children walking in the opposite direction. They pulled suitcases behind them. The woman in the lead glared at him.

“You there!” she said. “Come here.”

Jake hid his dismay at the sight of the young children. They stared at him with star-cast gazes. He sensed their trepidation. Of course it made sense that the Order had brought their children,
he thought. He simply hadn’t considered it before. Sure, every adult here knew what was going on. They were as guilty as sin, in Jake’s book. But not the kids. Any more than Sarafina and Alex.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

“Take this,” she said, rolling her suitcase toward him as if he were a bellboy. “We need an escort.”

Jake ignored the suitcase. He’d met her type before. Better than everyone else, or so she thought. Jake held his anger in check. “You’re looking for the dorms, right?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” she said, motioning to her entourage. “But we’re supposed to drop the children at the cafeteria first.” She nudged the suitcase toward him. “We’ll follow you.”

“Sorry, but we don’t provide escort service on the island,” he said with a condescending tone of his own. He motioned over her shoulder. “Instead, we placed easy-to-read directional placards on the walls.” He pointed to the floor. “And color-coded stripes on the floor. That way even a child can’t get lost.”

The scowl was still forming on her face when he pointed in the direction she’d just come from and said, “It’s that way. Follow the yellow line. You can’t miss it.”