A Necessary Kill (23 page)

I can’t believe what I’m hearing… I had no idea the extent of his endgame was this… this fucking crazy! Like Matthews said, you can
kind of
understand the basis for his plan—nobody wants any more war, any more famine… Why can’t we all just get along, right? But this… You can’t just kill the world and start from scratch!

“Adrian…” says Ruby.

I ignore her, staring at Matthews. “Who’s the enemy this time? Who’s Cunningham using to destroy GlobaTech and start a third world war?”

“Adrian…” she says again.

“Matthews, tell me! Who’s coming for us all?”

He stands and walks into the middle of the suite, the backdrop of the city lit up behind him through the window. He stands tall and takes a deep breath. “North Korea.”

Holy fucking shit…

I turn to Ruby. “I have to warn Josh…”

“Adrian!” she shouts. “We’re too late! Look!”

She points to the TV, and I stare at the screen. The sitcom has disappeared, interrupted by a breaking news bulletin. The volume is too low so I can’t hear the voice of the anchorman on the screen, but behind him is a live video feed from Shanghai, according to the caption below it. It shows explosions and fire and death.

Across the bottom of the screen reads the horrifying headline: NORTH KOREA INVADES!

Ruby’s right—we’re too late.

22:31 EDT

I’m watching in horror as more and more reports come up on the screen showing attacks, seemingly all over the world. China… Russia… India… Pakistan… even mainland Eastern Europe… North Korea has popped up out of nowhere and is shooting at peacekeeping forces—namely, GlobaTech—and civilians everywhere.

I look over at Matthews, whose eyes are watering as he stares at the TV screen. He’s shaking his head as if what he’s seeing is just a bad action movie and can’t possibly be real.

“No… no…” he mutters. “I can’t believe he actually went through with it…”

“Hey!” I yell, marching over to him and grabbing him by the throat. I walk him backward and pin him to the glass. “You don’t get to be upset, do you hear me? This is your fault.
Yours
! You’re the greatest mass murderer this world has ever seen, and
this
…” I point to the screen behind me. “…is all happening because of
you
!”

He finally breaks. His whole body shakes as he weeps in front of me. For a split-second, I actually feel bad for him. But I quickly remember he’s a piece of shit. I spin him around by his throat and push him away into the center of the room.

I look over at Ruby and hold my hand out. “Give me the gun.”

Without hesitation she hands it to me. Instinctively, I check the mag, work the slide, and take aim at Matthews’ forehead. “Any last words?”

Ruby takes a step back between the beds. In my peripheral vision I see her looking at me, but she’s also got a trained eye on the TV screen. It’s hard to watch, but also hard not to.

Matthews stares at me with tear-filled eyes, a grim determination creeping across his gaunt face. A few tense seconds of silence pass.

I see his gaze flick past me momentarily.

I see Ruby follow his gaze, a look of shock on her face.

Shit… Something’s happening behind me, isn’t it?

Everything slows down. All sound fades away. I push Matthews to the floor and spin around in time to see The European unhooking himself from a rappel line. He reaches behind him and brings a gun around into view and takes aim at the window.

How the hell did he—?

Time resumes its normal speed.

“Get down!” I yell as I drop to the floor.

I’m not bothered about Matthews, but I hope to God Ruby’s reacted as fast as I have.

The glass splinters and cracks before eventually smashing completely. The second I hear it, I jump to my feet, knowing The European will stop firing at least for a few valuable seconds while he steps through into our suite.

I meet him as he does, grabbing his gun hand, controlling his weapon. I raise his hand skyward and jab him in the ribs. He grunts through it and delivers a short head-butt to my face. I see it coming, but not quickly enough. I turn my head a fraction, so he connects with my cheekbone instead of my nose. It was a snapped blow with little wind-up and, consequently, little momentum.

But it still hurt like a sonofabitch!

I drop to one knee, my head spinning. I glance up and see he’s looking just as dazed as me, despite remaining upright. I fall flat on my back and look forward as I lash my foot out with as much power as I can. I catch him off guard and connect with his knee, taking his leg out from under him. I scramble to my feet as he hits the floor, and I see his gun skid away from us, across the carpet.

I position myself to deliver a kick to the side of his head, but he grabs my front foot and launches a desperate left arm into the side of my leg. The crook of his arm hits my knee. I buckle and drop again, landing heavily on my side.

Ah, shit!

We’re lying on the floor next to each other—me on my side, him on his back. He lurches up and drops his elbow on my face, hitting my cheekbone again. I feel the skin swell and burst instantly from the impact, followed by the warm rush of blood as it starts down my face.

I’m struggling to get my bearings—my leg’s killing me, and the cut on my face feels pretty bad, judging by how much blood I feel coming from it. I roll over onto my front as The European gets to his feet. He scoops up his gun and looks at Ruby before taking aim at…

…at Matthews? What the hell?

I frown, concentrating on trying to ignore the pain I’m feeling. I slowly drag myself up and rest on my right knee. My left isn’t cooperating, and I’m not sure how much pressure it could take. Losing the ability to stand is never good in a fight…

I look up at Ruby apologetically. She catches my eye and nods once. Then I see her descend into the madness I haven’t seen since Baltimore. It’s in her eyes. The
crazy
floods into them like a river of madness washing over her, taking over completely and allowing her to unleash her demons.

She pounces on The European, which I don’t think he was expecting. He fires a round, which thankfully misses anything of any consequence. And Matthews. He tries to take aim at Ruby, but she’s already got her claws into him. Literally! She’s on his back, her legs around his waist and her nails are sinking into the flesh at the base of his neck, drawing blood.

He lets out a growl and lashes out behind him, narrowly missing her head with his gun. She uses her weight and momentum to start spinning him, eventually dragging him to the floor. They land on their sides, and her grip loosens momentarily. He seizes the opportunity and flips over, pinning her down on her back. He’s inside her guard—her legs still around his waist—and he’s doing his best to land punches to her face and body.

She’s a talented fighter, no doubt about it. She’s strong, she’s composed… though, admittedly, at the moment she’s getting her ass kicked, but—

Oh, spoke too soon!

She’s grabbed his arm by the wrist and pulled him down on top of her. Now she’s shuffling her hips, repositioning her legs, placing one on his left shoulder and one under his right arm, crossing her ankles behind him. She’s trapped his head and right arm, and she’s pushing with her legs while pulling on his wrist. I hear her snarl and grunt through gritted teeth, fighting to ignore the obvious pain it’s causing her to do it.

The pressure her thighs are putting on his neck and throat is making it difficult for him to breathe and cutting off the circulation to his brain. He’s frantically throwing short jabs to her right side, but he can’t put anything behind them that would do any damage.

The bastard’s done.

After another few moments, the jabs slow down. Then they stop. His body starts to go limp, giving up the fight with gravity, but she keeps her grip on him. Her legs must be aching, holding him upright now that he’s barely conscious.

She glances sideways at me and raises an eyebrow.

I nod. “Finish the sonofabitch.”

She takes a deep breath, and then quickly lets go of his wrist, moving her left leg from under his arm and placing it on his shoulder, like the other one. She crosses her ankles again and pushes once more with both legs. She lets him fall to the side and props herself up on her elbow.

From this angle, I can see his eyes rolling up into his skull. His cheeks are turning a light purple, and spit is bubbling on his lips as he tries to talk.

“You’re an asshole, Fernando,” she says to him. “And this is for trying to blow up me and my friend!”

She pushes herself up with her hand and violently twists her lower body, throwing her hip over and snapping The European’s neck between her legs. The crack is loud in the room, as is the dull thud as his head bangs lifelessly against the floor.

Ruby lies flat on her back, resting her body and sighing with relief.

“Nice work,” I say. “I’ve always thought you had killer thighs, but…”

As she stares at the ceiling, she bursts out laughing and runs her hands through her hair and over her face. “Nice!”

The mood lightens for a fleeting moment but soon drops again. I push myself up using the bed for leverage. I rest my left foot tentatively on the floor, and then ease my weight down on it, testing how strong it is. I almost overbalance.

Huh… not very, it seems.

I limp toward Matthews, who has propped himself up against the wall over by the bathroom. He’s sitting on the floor, his shoulders slumped forward with defeat, staring up at the TV screen.

I glance at it. The headline along the bottom has changed. Now it says: THE WORLD AT WAR!

Dramatic, yet frighteningly accurate.

I look down at Ruby and extend a hand, which she takes. I pull her up and she stretches, cracking her shoulders.

“So we’re friends, are we?” I ask, half-smiling.

She shrugs. “Closest thing I’ve got to one at the moment.”

“Yeah…” We bump fists and turn to look at the CIA director. I point to the TV. “So how do we stop this?”

He shakes his head, smiling humorlessly. “You don’t. You can’t. It’s too late.”

I look at Ruby and hold out my hand again. “Gun, please.”

She obliges, and I take aim at Matthews. “You should know that I don’t like being told I can’t do something. I have a somewhat compulsive personality at times, and people saying that to me kinda makes me want to do whatever it is even more, just to prove the fuckers wrong, y’know? So, I’ll ask again—how do we stop this?”

He raises his arms, shrugging with what sounds like frustration. “What do you want me to say? Yes, Adrian, you and your girlfriend here can head outside and take on the entire North Korean Army by yourselves if you want. That’s how you stop it.”

I smile. “Hey, don’t tempt me—the mood I’m in, they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“This was Cunningham’s plan… all along. He struck a deal with North Korea, saying he would bury any evidence of their troops’ movements, if
they
agreed to risk the wrath of the West by invading everyone.”

“I don’t get it,” says Ruby. “What’s in it for the Koreans?”

“I don’t know…” says Matthews. “Maybe they want to show the world they survived 4/17, and establish themselves as a new super power? To them, this is their chance to conquer the planet, and Cunningham told them he’d let them providing they left America out of it.”

I shake my head. “No. There’s no way they would believe him.”

“You’d be surprised what those crazy bastards will believe.”

“So what’s Cunningham really planning?”

“His idea is to let them destroy GlobaTech, and then
he’ll
destroy
them
using the full might of the United States military. He wants to establish a kind of worldwide martial law, which will give him total control over every nation—damaged or otherwise. He envisions other leaders bowing before him, giving him complete power, and allowing him to unite the planet under one banner.”

I turn to Ruby. “Christ… Hitler didn’t have shit on this guy.”

“So what do we do?”

I don’t get a chance to answer, as there’s another knock on the door. We exchange a look, and I turn to Matthews. “You bring a friend?”

He shakes his head and shrugs. “None to bring. And I turned my cell phone off before I left Langley so I couldn’t be tracked…”

“Watch him,” I say to Ruby. “He moves, kick him in the throat.”

I move slowly over to the door, practically dragging my injured leg behind me. I place the barrel of the gun against the spy hole. “Who is it?”

A deep laugh sounds in the corridor outside. “Room service,” replies Oscar’s familiar voice.

I breathe a sigh of relief, lower the gun, and open the door. He’s standing with a smile on his face, holding a large black sport bag. “Try not to lose these this time.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on in.”

I shut the door behind him as he walks in and looks around in awe at the suite. He lets out a low whistle. “This place is nice…” He nods at the broken balcony doors, then at The European’s body in the middle of the room. “Am I late to the party?”

“Just getting started. He tried crashing, but Ruby put him in his place.”

Oscar looks at her. “How you doing, Ruby?”

She smiles. “I’m good, thanks.”

He drops the bag on the bed just behind her. “Present for you.”

I move next to him. “Have you seen the news?”

He turns and stares at the screen. “Yeah… this is all part of the shit-storm you’ve found yourself in, I’m guessing? What are you gonna—” He turns and sees Matthews for the first time, still sitting on the floor. He looks at me. “Who the hell is that?”

“Oh, sorry—where are my manners. Oscar, this is General Tom Matthews, the director of the CIA. Tom, this is my friend and arms dealer, Oscar.”

Matthews says nothing. Oscar stares at me, wide-eyed, and raises an eyebrow.

“It must be fucking weird being you, man. I mean, really… Who did you piss off in a previous life?”

I shrug. “Probably not as many people as I’ve pissed off in this one. You got a cell phone on you?” He takes one from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thanks. I gotta make a call before someone comes to see what all the noise is about. Ruby, see what ol’ Oscar here has brought to the party, would you?”