Stuart MacBride - Halfhead

Peitai shrugged. ‘I’m gonna give you a chance to think things through, Will.’ He clicked a panel open on the box attached to Jo’s arm and started flicking switches. ‘We’re not like them other shlubs in Special Ops, we’re Unit 731. You’re just Network. Trust me, if we need you to disappear, you go bye-byes. My boss: he wants to see you filling a little jar on his shelf. Me: I think, even though you’ve been a right royal pain in the ass, you’re one of the Good Guys, like me.’

He finished fiddling with the box and put a hand on Jo’s shoulder. A thick line of drool silvered her chin. ‘I think you and me could do a lot of good here, Will.

‘You know what, Ken?’ The sensation was starting to come back-Will tried to work one of his hands loose. ‘You’re not “one of the Good Guys”. You’re scum.’

‘I’m deeply hurt to hear that.’ Ken sighed. ‘I know it looks bad, but it’s the only way we’re gonna win the war.’

‘We’re not at war!’

‘Will, Will, Will. We’re always at war. You just don’t get to hear about it any more. Sure we let the armed forces wave the flag when they’re off on them international peacekeeping missions, and all that humanitarian bullshit, but that’s not where the real fight is. It’s here.’

‘Bollocks.’

‘You know how people in Oldcastle always look so damn stupid? Know why that is? Cos some bastard put this chemical in the water that retards neural development. An’ you wanna know who did it? It was one of our allies. Not our enemies, our friends did that to us.’ Ken shook his head. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘You see,’ he said, settling back against Jo’s chair, ‘it ain’t about land or religion or any of that crap anymore. It’s about money. They make enough of us stupid-we can’t compete with them. They make enough of us infertile and we got no workforce in twenty years. They make us riot and kill each other…’ He shrugged again. ‘We can’t prove the VRs weren’t caused by a manmade pathogen, released into the wild on purpose. We need to have an antidote in case they decide to do it again.’

‘Don’t speak shite. You’re not looking for a cure; this is a weapons programme!’

The smile disappeared from Ken’s face.

‘OK: you got me. We’re buildin’ a weapon, so what? “ They” do it all the time: look what happened to Oldcastle.’

‘Chemical warfare is illegal!’

‘Jesus, Will, grow up. This ain’t the God-damn World War Cup, this is real life. All’s fair in love and war, remember?’ He slapped another smile on his face, straightened his tie and gently slipped the IV lines out of Jo’s uncooked arm.

‘You’re using human beings as lab rats!’

‘Eggs and omelettes, Will, eggs and omelettes. How we supposed to fight the bad guys if we ain’t got any weapons?’

Ken turned and faced a seam in the mirrored wall, popping it open to reveal a hidden door and a small, quiet passageway beyond. ‘Down the end of that corridor there’s a shuttle bay.’ He pulled the electrical pickups off Jo’s forehead and dropped them on the floor. ‘I can put her in a car and away she goes to A &E. She’s got so much crap in her veins she’s gonna remember none of this. All you need to do is get with the programme. Help your country.’

Will scowled. ‘And if I don’t?’

‘She dies. You die. The two monkeys you came here with die…if they’re not already dead. We can’t have you out there shootin’ your mouth off, Will. When we use this stuff we gotta make sure there’s nothin’ linkin’ it back to the powers that be. Can you imagine the world of shit we’d be in if they found out the Scottish Government infected a foreign country with VR?’

Will watched as a thin stream of gravy leaked out of Jo’s roasted skin.

‘How the hell can you do this?’

‘Cos I have to. We ain’t evil monsters and this ain’t my idea of fun.’ He ran a hand across Jo’s bruised and shiny forehead. ‘What d’you say sport? Last chance: you gonna join us?’

Will closed his eyes and hung his head. ‘You promise you’ll let her go.’

‘Give you my word. You join the team and she goes free. We’ll pay for any care she needs. The two of you live happily ever after.’

‘And the others?’

‘Well, they’ll have to make up their own minds, but at least they’ll get the option.’

Play the hero and get everyone killed, or join the bad guys. Become responsible for atrocities. Save Jo’s life…

Will hung his head. ‘I’ll do it.’

Ken nodded and looked at his own green-suited reflection in the mirrored wall. ‘You get that, sir?’

A cold, disembodied voice floated out from hidden speakers. ‘He’s lying.’

‘Are you sure he isn’t-’

‘Positive. You know what to do.’

Ken sagged. ‘Yes, sir.’ He looked Will in the eye. ‘Jeez I hate this bit.’ He took the Screamer and pointed it at Will’s head. ‘I’m real sorry about this. I thought we could make it turn out different.’ Ken pressed the trigger.

A faint heat washed over Will’s face and then the Screamer went ‘plink’.

‘Sonovabitch.’ Ken turned the device over in his hand and peered at the power reading. ‘Empty. Lincoln, you want to do the honours?’

‘Aye, sir.’

Will felt the cold barrel of a Whomper pressed against the side of his head. He glowered at Peitai. ‘I will kill you. This world or the next: I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.’

Ken smiled sadly. ‘Guess it’s gonna have to be the next, buddy, cos your time in this one is up. Do him.’

The man on the end of the Whomper said ‘Aye, s-’ and then exploded.

Lumps of red meat spattered against the floor, an arm thudding off the side of the interrogation chair, then twitching where it fell. Blood dripped from the low ceiling tiles. The front of Lincoln’s Whomper hit the deck in pieces, like a bag of spanners, clattering and clanging against the tiles. Ken backed away, dropped his empty Screamer and dived through the mirrored door, slamming it shut behind him.

Will craned his head round to see Brian, cheeks freckled with dark red dots, teeth bared, snarling. The Whomper in his hands jumped and the mirrored door exploded in a whirlwind of shattered glass.

‘GET ME OUT OF THIS!’ Will had to shout over the deafening noise.

Brian looked through the gaping hole to the passageway beyond, then back to Will.

‘Cut me free! The bastard’s getting away!’

‘Arse.’ Brian yanked his boot knife out and sliced through the straps.

Will staggered to his feet as Constable Cat MacDonald burst into the room, her eyes sparkling like cold, feral diamonds.

‘Through there!’ Will pointed at the section of wall Ken had asked for instructions-where the observation suite had to be. ‘Kikan’s in there: Peitai’s boss. Bring the bastard down!’

‘Yes, sir!’ She grinned and the Bull Thrummer roared, turning the mirror into a fog of ionized particles. With a whoop she dived into the cloud.

Will knelt next to Jo. Her eyes were glazed, sweat dripped off her battered face. She was unconscious and Ken was getting away.

‘Look after her, Brian.’

He grabbed the Thrummer from Henderson’s headless corpse, and dived through the shattered doorway, sprinting after Ken Peitai. The weapon buzzing in his hands.

Left alone in the interrogation room, Brian crossed to where Jo was slumped in her seat and brushed the hair from her face with a gentle hand. Poor cow looked like shite, all battered and broken. The sweet, meaty smell of roast pork rising from her blistered arm.

Brian’s stomach rumbled…then lurched.