David Dun - Necessary Evil

"Ten went up this ridge of the mountain, but only six went up this fork of Hobbs Ridge with the Indian boy. Brennan thought you probably wouldn't go someplace a lot of people know about. They called Brennan and the other four on the radio when the grenade went. They're split in pairs. One pan-is at least four hours away. The other is more. Now let me up."

Because of his shaking, the man's words were almost unintelligible.

"You said this ridge of the mountain. What about the other ridge to the northwest and the ridge to the southeast?"

"At least three on each, nobody on the back side of the mountain yet. Of course, that doesn't count the law. Soon you're gonna be a fugitive, you know. The story is you're a thief trying to get rich off other people's research."

"Who do you work for?"

"Oh, come on. They're gonna tell a grunt like me? I'm a mercenary on contract. I work for the colonel back down the mountain. Who he works for, I don't know and I don't care."

"What's the colonel's name?"

"Goes by Brennan, but nobody uses a real name."

"Who does he report to?"

"I don't know. Guy doesn't come around much. Think he goes by Grant."

Kier sensed that the man wasn't giving him everything. Saying nothing, he began pushing even more snow on his captive.

"No," the man said, sounding panicked.

Kier withdrew his knife and held it to the man's Achilles tendon.

"Please, don't cripple me here on the mountain."

Pressing, Kier drew blood.

"All right!" the man said. "Brennan and Doyle report to a guy who goes by the code name Grant, General Grant. Brennan called him 'Mr. T' once, then shut up real fast. That's all I know."

"So where is Mr. T?"

"Johnson City. I don't know."

Kier kicked more snow, then stepped on the man's feet, driving them deeper.

The man half screamed. ''Last night they found a lady named Donahue. Let her go, I guess. Command station's at Donahues'. General Grant's in Johnson City. Or maybe at that clinic of theirs. That's all I know."

"Tell me everything you know about the general-Mr. T."

"He's rich. Got a company of some kind, and he's a big hunter they say. He was out looking at the tracks you left. He's got the clinic over by the reservation. I don't know any more than that. He talks to Brennan and Doyle, not me. I lied about the law. They're scared of the law until we find those volumes. I swear that's all I know."

"Tell me about the clinic."

"I've only been there one time. I don't know."

"What did you do there?"

"Nothing just… moved stuff around."

"Tell me exactly."

''Took papers from the wreckage there by snowmobile. Most of it was all burned, but what was half burned or still readable, we put in boxes and took there."

"Where exactly did you put these boxes?"

''I don't know. I'm telling you I was blindfolded to get down there. It seemed like a basement-it was all concrete. Now let me up or I'm gonna die."

"Did they tell you about a virus or bacteria-danger of infection from the plane?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah, huh. They had an infectious-disease freak show on that plane, with viruses and bacteria and a few special things developed by the geniuses who hired you. I could have been exposed to something."

"You're bluffing."

"Why do you suppose Mr. T's ass is so far away? Have you seen him get near the plane? Why would I make this stuff up?"

"That would explain the suits. We didn't go near the pieces of the plane. Some other guys with special suits did. You… you touched my clothes."

"If I was you, I wouldn't take them back. Or I'd make sure I got medical treatment. Maybe you'd like to take the clothes from the guy just down the hill here. He hasn't been near me.''

"You bastard. I can't even wear my boots."

"Quite right. With any luck the dead guy didn't get his feet blown off. Then again, maybe he did."

"Look, I'm freezing. I got to get up."

"Talk to me."

"Listen, you gotta let me up. I can't feel things anymore." The man's voice had risen to a shriller pitch.

"How did you guys get to the crash site so fast?"

"Damn it, I don't know this stuff."

"Your balls are gonna look like purple plums unless I get some answers."

"Savage. Bastard." Kier waited while the man swore epithets more vociferously than before. "Have you no human bone in your body?" the soldier said through gritted teeth, his whole body convulsing as he tried lifting his middle out of the snow. Kier put his foot on the man's buttocks, holding him down.

"We were waiting for the plane to drop something. It was to drop a… a… bunch of pods. It wasn't supposed to crash. We don't know why that happened."

"What was the plane supposed to drop?"

''Something for a damn experiment. And a bunch of papers, that's all I know. They don't tell us."

"You must have surmised."

"Look, I don't know."

"You guessed. You speculated."

"I'm gonna die, mister," the man cried, obviously starting to break.

"What did you imagine?"

"We thought maybe… it was some military experiment. Something to sell to the military… worked out by the government. And then there was… something to do with the Indian reservation."

"Why did you think that?"

"Because they seem to know a lot about the Indians, that's why."

Kier's blood ran cold. Every Tilok on the reservation was a potential guinea pig-including his own mother.

"Be more specific. What do they know about the Indians?"

"Well, they had us go to a mink farm and take some minks. In the middle of the night."

"What did you do with the minks?"

"Brought them to the lab."

''How many of you were involved in this?''

''Just me and another guy. They said they thought the natives might have gotten something from the minks. We just went and got about five. It was for some kind of test."

"What kind of a test?"

"One of the science types whispered about a test. 'When the test was done,' he said. And we had supplies for a few days. I swear to you, I don't know-they told us nothing except what I already told you." The man shook so badly he seemed to be convulsing. ''Then more men came. We were supposed to get stuff dropped from the plane. I swear to God that's everything I know."

"There was a fancy black box on that plane. It had lab summaries. Why do they want it so bad?"

"There were s- s- six volumes. Number five and six are still missing. They're going nuts over Volume Six especially. I don't know why! Le- le- let me up. Please!"

"Tell me Mr. T's name. You must have heard something."

"Tillman, I think. Tillman, damn it."

Fortunately, the dead man lived up to his name-"Texas." He was big, with boots that would suit Kier's purposes. Apparently Texas had tripped the wire, then looked in horror to see what he had done. Since it had taken a moment for the grenade to blow, it had caught him in the face, with the result that there wasn't much of the head left. Blood was everywhere, and the clothes riddled with shrapnel.

"I have some disappointing news for you."

"What?" the man said, standing on the dead body to try to keep his feet out of the snow.

"You're going to wear his boots, and my shirt."

The man just stared vacantly.

"Don't take it so hard. If I've got a virus or bacterial infection, it's inside me. It's my breathing on you or touching your skin after I've blown my nose or wiped my ass that could kill you."

Kier gave the man the boots with no socks. Then the man put on Kier's shirt. Kier took his captive's outer clothes, which were tight but wearable.

"I don't have time for the truth-or-consequences test. So we'll cut straight to the good stuff. You are going to get on this radio and say exactly what I tell you. If you say anything else, I will shoot you instantly. If you do it right, I'm going to let you run straight down this mountain in those oversized boots. You say exactly the following: