Payload (28 page)

“So, no TV tonight?” Chip asked after a silence had indicated that no suggestions were forthcoming.

“You shouldn’t be playing with a remote,” Bear drawled. “The buttons you should be pushing have Cuban subtitles.”

The husky Gnome flipped the biker off.

“OK, cut cards for guard duty. Those of you with girlfriends or whatever,” Marv winked at Chip, who was getting red. “Will have to deal with getting less sleep.”

“JD,” the Ranger drew the promoter aside after the cards had been cut. “Chip said we got ammo, a couple spare revolvers, and his carbine. Anything else?”

“I put my shotgun into reserve and picked up this bad boy,” JD held up a folding stock MP-5 with a tactical light bulging out beneath the barrel. “But that’s it for weaponry.”

“OK. What do you think about the women?”

“Good for morale, and the second vehicle plus the changes on the roof might throw off a spotter in a plane.”

“All right, I just wanted your input.”

“You guys did one hell of a job out there, Marv,” JD was thoughtful. “I got an earful on the trip here. We’re building something out of this group.”

“Yeah,” the Ranger nodded. “I feel it, too. These are some good guys, a good mix of skills. I’ve got an idea for the future, assuming we have one. I’ll run it past you once I have it straight in my head.”

Later that night Marv sat in the front passenger seat on guard, staring out into the night and pondering Gato. Cutting off the man’s ear didn’t bother him-he could still hear on that side, after all, and after seeing the girl bound to that bed and interrupting Gato in the midst of a sexual assault he thought an ear was pretty small potatoes. It hadn’t been personal-all he wanted was for Gato to tell him what he needed to know, and so long as there wasn’t hatred or other emotions involved it shouldn’t be much of a sin.

Maiming him, now, that was something else. In Afghanistan he had kept shooting after fighters went down because people are tougher than they look, and on a couple occasions he had finished off fatally-wounded enemy who would never make it back alive, but this was different.

Part of it was stress, the invisible monster that rode your back and could overwhelm you. For the last four days he had been running and gunning, one step ahead of catastrophe while the entire world fell apart. And part of it was just being fed up, being tired of being the guy who dug deep in order to carry his own load and that of others while dirtbags like Gato spent their entire lives being nothing more than a burden on society and a bane to their fellow man. Part of it was Doc and Captain Jack dying in the RV park because crazy or not they were trying to make a positive impact. And part of it was knowing that despite seeing his buddies die and getting his ear cut off, Gato still saw nothing wrong with the choices that had led him to that junction in his life. It had been wrong to hobble him, but Marv couldn’t walk away knowing that the banger was just X amount of time from another rape, robbery, or murder. His ankle would heal, but Gato was not going to be running any victims down on foot.

The flu was bad, but guys like Gato were a virus as well, and there was only one way to deal with a virus.

The task was daunting, but Sophia labored away at it. She was pulling what breeder and assault cells remained alive and loyal in the eastern region of District 13 and sending them up into the Texas Panhandle region, systematically erecting a barrier line while the assets she had from District 12 came in from the east to drive the Yard Gnome Action Team into the net. They could run, and they could even eliminate a few FASA assets, but they couldn’t change where they were bound, and unless that incompetent ass Nelson could pry a helicopter and a security team from the tiny SpecOps pool they would be run down like rabbits.

And a rescue for the payload was out-FASA had shot its bolt in terms of military and government assets willing to take direct action, but they still had enough sympathizers and subjects willing to sell information that keeping track of the Department of Defense’s top assets was easy enough. While the government slapped at shadows, she was going to snatch up the only sample of the pure virus and renew FASA’s war with a vengeance.

And possibly new leadership.

The phone buzzing brought her back to the present, and she was surprised to see that it was the line that Sergeant Burleson had compromised, although it was a different number on the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Is this Prime?” a man asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m Mapplethorpe, you can call me Bear.”

She bit her lip-another of the Gnomes, and the one they thought most likely to be open to an offer. She frantically brought up his file. “What can I do for you, Bear?”

“Three things, the first is to tell me your name.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not working this blind. If we’re going to come to an understanding, you will need to level the playing field.”

“I’m Sophia Travis.” She had thought to lie, but discarded it: she had a safe identity ready in case FASA failed. Unlike Doctor C, she was not fighting for a cause-there would always be more opportunities to bring chaos into the world.

“OK, Sophia, is the phone you’re on text-capable?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m texting you the specs on my payment, which is in industrial diamonds. That’s item number two.”

“We offered gold.”

“I know, but firstly I’m not interested in carrying around five hundred pounds, and secondly people might not be buying jewelry after all this, but they will still need to cut things.”

“All right,” she examined the text. “I think we can do this.”

“If you can’t, I’ll hang up right now.”

“We
can
do this,” she assured him. “Give me a moment to send an e-mail. All right, what is the third point?”

“You deliver the stones in person.”

“I am not a field operative.”

“That’s too bad. Unless the bag is in your hands, the payload goes straight to its destination.”

“Bear, I think I should point out that there are a lot of resources being committed to stopping you. You’ve been lucky once, but are you willing to bet your life on just luck?”

“You weren’t with us,” he said, and it annoyed her to hear the amusement in his voice. “It wasn’t all luck, and it’s been more than once. We’ve kept getting stronger, and you’re getting weaker. I can help this get to the goal line and do well with Uncle Sugar, or you can make it worth my time. Which is it going to be?”

“I think you’re too confident.”

“You spoke to Marv yesterday-how did the bribe go?” He chuckled. “Do you think those gang bangers just laid down and died? Killing him from the front won’t be easy, and if he goes into anything risky he has a gimmick rigged with a timer and a thermite grenade-if he can’t deliver the payload he’ll destroy it. If you want the payload intact, you deal with me. If you just want to stop the government from getting it, maybe you can do it with the stuff you’re doing.”

“So why the change of heart?”

“No change of heart-until yesterday I didn’t realize how much that thing was worth to you. I thought you were just trying to stop it from getting to the Feds-the news that you want it, and how bad you want it, well, that opens up a whole new vista.”

She thought hard while looking over the man’s file. “You people have already launched one ambush-how do I know that you aren’t planning another?”

“Would a guy who is as true-blue as Marv waste time just to score some money?” Bear was scornful. “You must have data on him-the guy is a straight as an arrow. The stunt yesterday was to slow you guys down. Pure business. He’s not going to deviate an inch from his planned endgame.”

“So how do you plan to make this exchange?” Sophia dragged a legal pad into place.

“I’ll tell you once you’ve got the stones and are relatively close, but I’ve got all it worked out. You need to secure my money and get to southeast Oklahoma. Be ready with a helicopter or fast ground transport.”

“You’re talking about me making a lot of effort based on one phone call,” Sophia did her best to sound doubtful while she typed furiously.

“One day of your life,” Bear said indifferently. “Like the end of the world will stop because you’re out of the office for a few hours.”

“Tell me something to make me believe you. A sign of faith.”

He was silent for a moment. “Marv knows you track us by the satellite feed for our TV. He knows you’re looking for us by air. We’ve altered the RV so you couldn’t possibly spot it, and he turns on the TV to tell you what he wants you to know.”

“Old news,” Sophia said lightly, angrily shaking a fist at the wall.

“OK, your gangsta net was a complete failure-we were well past it when he figured out what you were doing. Marv had us double back to hit that roadblock just to draw the ground team in.”

Her cheeks burned, but she controlled her voice. “Interesting. How about some details on this hand-off?”

“The way I’ve planned it, it goes down in a place over-run with infected. You come with no more than four people, counting clerks, drivers, assistants, spiritual guides, and pilots. You and I exchange gifts, and we escape in our own fashion. If you come by helicopter, the crew counts towards the four, and if I see anything that looks like guns on the chopper you get squat.”

She thought about it-doing it in zombie-controlled territory was a smart move, as a silent double-cross would be difficult to arrange. Difficult, but not impossible.

“When?”

“Sometime today. Marv plans to deliver the payload no later than twenty-three hundred hours, that’s seventeen hours from now. Figure you’re got a window of fifteen hours.”

“That’s not enough time for me to set up my end and get there,” Sophia said.

“OK. Goodbye.”

“Maybe I could,” she said, not too hasty. “Call me in an hour.”

“No can do; I was lucky to get bars now. I can’t promise another voice communication. Cell service sucks, thanks to you guys.”

“All right, what about the Net? E-mail?”

“Yeah, I can find wifi.”

“Use this address,” she read it off to him and had him repeat it back to her, then added a phone number. “This is a landline phone that can relay calls to me.”

“OK. Hop to it, Sophie: the clock is running.”

Bear pulled the SIM card from the phone and snapped it into two as the trailer’s bathroom door opened and Bambi, the tough blonde girl they had rescued at the trailer, stepped out wearing a green kimono and toweling her wet hair. “Who were you talking to, babe?” she asked.

“I was making it rain, sugar, making it rain,” the biker grinned.

Chapter Twelve

“So explain this to me again?” Dyson asked. “Bear sells us out, because we figure FASA knows he’s a slimy low-life and that makes it credible.” The biker shot him the bird. “But what is the point of it? Do you really think we can get the diamonds?”

“Dude, there’s no diamonds,” Chip shook his head. “Maybe one or two for show. The point is to get the controller of our…situation focused on us, better yet flying to Oklahoma to set up some sort of hand-off ambush.”

“And the value of that is what?” the Georgian asked again.

“The payload arrived late yesterday,” Marv said from the passenger seat. “FASA will have eyes on the site-probably not inside, but someone in or associated with the support staff who will sell information.  It won’t be long until that source reports that the site has gone live, and FASA will figure out what we have done. So we give the controller something to do, something happening fast and outside of her comfort zone. A distraction. It’s not perfect, but it might buy us another day, and as she told Bear, we’re tying up a lot of terrorist man-hours at a stage of the crisis where hours count a great deal. Every hour we keep FASA focused on us is lives saved. Lots of lives.”

“It’s just like where Aragorn marched the army to the Gates of Mordor to draw Sauron’s attention away from Mount Doom, dude!” Chip’s grin threatened his ears.

“Didn’t most of them die?”

“And there’s the chance we can actually pull it off, get the brass ring,” JD observed from the driver’s seat.

“Brass ring?”

“Grab Miss Travis alive. Hand over a key FASA player,” the promoter explained.

“Remember the playing cards in Iraq? The Feds are putting heavy bounties on FASA personnel,” Marv nodded. “We get ahold of her, our post-mission plans will have a lot less uncertainties. There’s no reason we can’t be patriots
and
turn a profit. Besides, with her out of play we get some breathing space.”

“So what’s our next step?”

“We keep rolling west,” Marv gestured towards the gravel road rolling by under an overcast sky. “Once we’re in Oklahoma we keep our ears on the CB, see if we can do some good or improve our position while we wait for the deal to go down. Money is fine and good, but I’m not planning on sitting out the war.”

“So you believe this ‘Bear’ is credible?” Cyrus stared at the file on the center monitor. His voice sounded dull even to his ears-he was snatching cat-naps where he could, but the demands flowing into the command center were too urgent for much rest. The government was fighting back, and the peasants were refusing to accept their fate and succumb.