A New World: Reckoning (31 page)

“Call me Gav.”

“I warn you, Nahmer, if there’s any shot fired after you give the order, you know how it will have to end,” I finish.

“I would have thought you above clichés, but it will be as you say,” Nahmer states.

She then turns up the volume and contacts the companies, telling them to lay down their weapons and to comply with the commands of the opposing forces. After I hear the corresponding verifications, I radio Lynn and let her know what is transpiring.

Soldiers begin emerging from the barracks on Lynn’s orders and she rounds them up, placing them into small groups against one corner of the bay. She places those under guard and then gathers the operations center people, followed by the rest of the personnel. Barring anything unforeseen, we have the complex under control.

I continue to keep Nahmer separate so she can’t communicate with the others or initiate some other kind of action. I mean, who knows, she may have the place rigged to blow just in case.

With the security forces and personnel rounded up and under guard, Lynn directs two teams to search the maintenance areas and quarters for anyone else, finding no others. With her radio call that all is clear, I feel an immense relief. My body, which has been under continuous stress for hours on end, relaxes to some degree, allowing fatigue to replace the adrenaline which had been my mainstay. We’re not out of this yet so I can’t allow my guard to fall.

Part of the problem now is that I have no idea what to do with the prisoners. I guess I really didn’t expect to have any, so I hadn’t given it much thought. We just aren’t set up to take prisoners, and I don’t know what we would do with them in the long-term. I don’t trust them enough to fold them into our structure as they may cause problems in our group. But we can’t exactly kill them in cold-blood either. Well, we can and may have to if we can’t think of something else, but the thought doesn’t really sit too well with me. Turning them loose may just cause the same problems for us down the road.

If I thought the soldiers were truly evil, then it would be an easy decision. It may be that they were only following orders. However, even that isn’t a good enough reason to attack without provocation. There is the chance that they may not have known what was going on. That’s the problem I’m wrestling with. They may have been pulled directly from the military, or they may just simply be hired guns. If they are only hired mercenaries, that wouldn’t explain all of the military vehicles sitting in the equipment bay. Those had to come from some military base, or perhaps directly from the manufacturer, which implies high-level connections in the past.

And then there is this Nahmer herself. She is far too dangerous to have with us or to leave her to her own devices. We have several dead to attest to that. The deep anger I felt at the loss of our people is allayed to a degree; both from the tiredness creeping over me and from standing face-to-face with our antagonist.

“Where did the security personnel come from?” I ask Nahmer, who remains seated.

“They were selected from various units and were ordered here,” she answers.

“So, they are regular soldiers. What will they do now?”

“I can’t speak for them, but I assume they will do whatever you tell them to do,” she replies.

“What do they know?”

“Next to nothing about the reality of this place, which I assume you already know about seeing you’re here,” she responds with a questioning look.

“Yes. I know what you and the others did, and why,” I state.

“Well, they know what happened…but not who or how. As far as they know, they are guarding one of the last establishments of government.”

At least I know the status of the soldiers under guard. However, that doesn’t mean that I can trust them or that they don’t have some other orders. It’s a tough decision, and one we’ll have to make soon.

“Lynn, I’m going to call Robert and have him land to drop Harold off. He’s the only one who can possibly decipher the equipment in the ops center. Can you send a team to escort him?” I radio.

“Things are under control here. I’ll send Watkins and then I’m joining you. I want to get a look at this bitch,” she answers.

I open up and give Robert a brief synopsis of where we stand.
“Land in the field and drop Harold off. Alpha Team will meet you. How’s your fuel?”

“We have enough for a few more hours but that’s it,”
he replies.

“Okay. Shut down and Alpha will return to provide security.

“Okay, Dad. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

“Lynn, Robert is on his way. After Watkins escorts Harold in, have him return to the aircraft for security,” I call.

“Okay, Jack. I’m on my way.”

Gonzalez maintains her alert guard, having replaced her M-4 with her handgun. Lynn arrives looking a little the worse for wear. Her bloodshot eyes tell of her tiredness, but she enters the room with a look of grim determination. Seeing Nahmer sitting calmly at the table, her lips tighten even more.

“Are you alright?” I ask, seeing blood streaks on one side of her face.

She runs her fingers across the wound. “Yeah, it’s just a scratch.”

Nahmer looks from Lynn’s entrance to me, her calm expression never leaving.

“Before you discuss what to do about me, or do anything else, I would beg your indulgence with something,” Nahmer asks, her accent only slightly betraying her origins.

“You are not in a position to ask for anything,” Lynn states firmly.

“That is true, but I would ask it nonetheless,” Nahmer replies.

“And what is this indulgence you want us to give you?” Lynn asks, staring hard at Nahmer.

“I have some…business to take care of before you decide what to do with me,” Nahmer says, her implication clear.

“They are here? In this facility?” I ask.

“Yes, they are.”

“Why would you want to see them dead?” I question.

“Because, it was their foolishness that made me lose,” she asserts.

As much as her winning would have been the end of us, I can understand her desire.

“We’ll escort you,” Lynn asserts, taking any decision out of my hands.

Nahmer rises with both Gonzalez and Lynn covering her, their faces tightened by anger and alertness. With Nahmer leading, we gather Henderson and Denton and proceed farther into the complex, turning down several halls. We walk slowly to make sure we aren’t being set up for an ambush, but it seems this part of the bunker is empty. Rounding a corner, Nahmer comes to halt.

“See that door with the camera overhead?” Nahmer asks, pointing. “That leads to their quarters.”

I also note the keypad next to the door.

“Give me the entry card or passcode and we’ll handle it,” I say.

“No, this is something I have to do myself. This is the indulgence I am asking for,” she replies.

“No, we’re going with you,” Lynn states.

“If they see you, they’ll more than likely lock us out, if they haven’t done so already,” Nahmer says.

“So, we’ll wait them out,” Lynn says.

Nahmer chuckles. “Good luck with that. They’re well supplied in there.”

I stare into Nahmer’s eyes and see that she is speaking the truth. I don’t see any falsehood written in them, but then again, she was an operative. It’s a risk, but I feel that she’s being honest.

“Go then, and make it snappy,” I state.

I return her handgun, making sure she only has a single mag. As much as the risk is that she’ll just flee or try to organize something, I understand on another level what she wants to do and believe that she’ll return. It’s something I can’t fully explain other than a knowing and that, even though we ended up as opponents, we were once in the same game together. All of this was conveyed in that single look.

With a nod, Nahmer turns and walks down the hall, the sound of her boots echoing off the walls of the wide, empty hallway.

“Jack! You’re just letting her go? Just like that?” Lynn asks, incredulous.

“She’ll be back,” I answer, watching Nahmer swipe a card and enter.

“Yeah, and how do you know that? And what will she be back with? And how many? Sometimes you just amaze me, Jack,” Lynn says, obviously not happy.

“She’ll be back,” I say, looking to Lynn.

“What, you know that from that look you two shared? That’s what told you?” Lynn states, her anger mounting.

‘Jealous much’ wouldn’t be the appropriate response, so I press my lips together to prevent the words from being uttered. Besides, I know that this isn’t where her reaction is coming from. It’s been a tense day and one filled with adrenaline. I understand what she is saying, and I just don’t know how to explain it, really even to myself. I try to but do a very poor job of it.

“It’s a weird kind of honor, but honor nonetheless,” I end up saying.

“I know you have your reasons, and I love you for them, but they’re just hard to take sometimes. I can’t believe you’re going to let that woman go. The woman who gave the order that was meant to kill you but killed Allie instead. And destroyed Greg’s team while almost killing him as well.”

“I haven’t forgotten, and for that, she’ll pay. I just don’t know what that means yet,” I respond.

“I do. Kill her. With her around, those soldiers under guard are more of a threat.”

“I’m aware of that…but…more than likely, she also knows these systems better than anyone and we need that info.”

“Harold can figure it out, and we have the technicians,” Lynn says.

“That may be the case, but what if he can’t and we eliminate the one person who does know. We need to wait and find out what she knows. These systems can help us with the night runners who are gathering at our doorstep. It will also help us find survivors,” I respond.

“Fine, Jack, but I don’t like it.”

“Me either,” I say, turning back to watch the door.

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Gav swipes her card and hears the door unlock. Feeling the handgun firmly in her grip, she opens the door and steps inside. The posh carpet and surroundings of the foyer tell the story of those who reside within. With a sigh, she walks through the foyer toward the conference room. The men, who orchestrated this whole mess, will know what is happening and that’s where they will be waiting for her to report. She’s surprised they haven’t summoned her yet, but that would only have been a matter of time.

Before entering the chambers, she checks the mag, clicks it back into place, and tucks the handgun in the beltline at her back. Knocking on the heavy wooden door, she hears “enter.” Inside, it’s just as she’s witnessed numerous times, five elderly men sitting around the polished conference room table. They are dressed in suits which she could never really understand.

I mean, who are they getting dressed up for? Each other?
she has thought countless times.

However, that doesn’t matter at the moment.
They’ll make nice burial attire
.

“Have you come to report on the disturbances, Gavrielle?” one man asks, sitting at the head of the table.

Disturbances? Even now, they are so out of touch with reality
.

“I have,” she answers.

“Then tell us what you are doing about the intruders,” the man says.

Calmly, Gav pulls the handgun out and fires point blank at the man at the head of the table. The report of the gunshot fills the room, muted to a degree by the plush carpeting and books lining the walls. The round leaves the barrel and strikes forcefully just to the left of his nose. Blood sprays outward, splashing on the two men on either side. The man rocks backward in his plush chair, tipping to one side and falling heavily to the floor.

All of the men’s eyes widen from shock, looking from their fallen member to Gav, their mouths open. Wasting little time, Gav aims at the next man and pulls the trigger. A wisp of smoke trails out of the barrel following the bullet as it streaks toward her target. The man joins the first on the floor, lying in a pool of blood soaking into the thick carpet. The men recover from their shock and twist to get out of their chairs in an attempt to get away from the vengeance that is being administered.

Their soft lives make any attempt weak at best. Gav fires at one who is attempting to rise. The bullet slams into the side of his head, launching him across the arm of a chair, his weight toppling it. He comes to rest with the overturned chair lying on top of him.

The two remaining are bolting for the door, the term bolting being relative. She fires into the back of one of the fleeing men. The silken threads of his suit coat puffs from the projectile passing through on its way to find flesh and bone. With a scream, he lurches forward, his hand automatically going to his back and the sudden pain. His legs give out from the intrusion upon his body and he falls face forward just before the open door.

The last man stumbles out of the doorway, making a feeble effort to close it behind him.
Gav
calmly walks across the room, one once filled with the fragrance of expensive cologne. Now it holds the rank odors of death. Passing the man bawling in pain from the bullet wound in his back, she fires one round into the back of his head, silencing the cries.