Кристофер Голден - The Predator - The Official Movie Novelization

It would almost certainly have given Rory some comfort to know that his dad was looking at him right now. Quinn McKenna, who knew this terrain far better than Traeger and his bozos did, was currently perched on the highest spit of land overlooking the crash site. He was shrouded in foliage, completely camouflaged, his rifle leveled and his eye glued to the sniper scope, which allowed him to see what was happening with crystal clarity.

The pink helicopter was parked in a clearing just over a mile away, and the Loonies and Casey were out and about, doing their stuff. The Loonies might be a maverick bunch, but McKenna had faith not only in their loyalty, but also in their abilities. He didn’t know where any of this was ultimately leading, but right now he felt like the leader of The A-Team . Just him and his rag-tag bunch of oddballs against the world.

Through his sniper scope he saw Rory approach the crashed Predator ship, flanked by Traeger on his left and his smarmy sidekick, Sapir, on his right. Last time McKenna had been here, the hatch of the pod had been open, sticking straight up in the air like the damaged wing of a crumpled dragonfly. Now, though, it was closed—presumably by the Predator, which had sealed up its ship before allowing itself to be “captured” by Traeger’s men and transported to the Stargazer facility. McKenna watched as Rory halted in front of the hatch and examined a panel beside it, Traeger and Sapir looking on. Then his son reached out and began to tap a code sequence into the keypad.

Even though Rory was proud of his dad—and more so than ever after today—he had never wanted to be a soldier like him. He had little desire to shoot anyone, or to be shot at, no matter how noble the cause. But as he stood in front of the Predator’s ship, he wished he still had the helmet and gauntlet that had helped him accidentally vaporize the stoner while he was out trick-or-treating. He felt bad about that guy—figured he always would—but if he could have vaporized Agent Traeger, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.

For most of his life, Rory had never had to consider whether he had courage. He would never have said he was brave in the way his father was brave, but he stood up for himself. Now that he had to think about it, he supposed he had some courage in him. Cornered by bullies, he’d speak up, even fight back if he had to. But he wasn’t stupid. Agent Traeger struck him as the sort of person who had no sense of honor or nobility. If this guy needed to murder his father, maybe even his mother, to get Rory to do what he wanted, he did not doubt for a second that Traeger would do it.

So, he unlocked the ship.

Once he’d punched in the code, the hatch opened with a whisper. A cavernous darkness yawned within as the hatch rose. Tentatively, Traeger went first. Rory stood with Sapir, hanging back a moment. If he hadn’t stepped inside on his own, he figured Sapir would have nudged him. Traeger had recognized that Rory’s brain was an asset, and he had announced his decision to his aide the way a king might. The soldiers around them might think it was crazy for him to bring only Sapir and Rory into the ship, but they took their orders from Traeger and no one would dare challenge him.

Rory didn’t have to wonder about the decision, either. Traeger kept the others out because whatever might be inside the alien craft, it was top secret. Which meant that whatever happened after this, Rory would be forced to keep that secret. He imagined that meant Traeger intended him to be dead, but he was alive so far, and he planned to keep it that way.

So, he opened the door and he followed Traeger into the ship, and he didn’t even protest when Sapir gripped his arm to keep him from wandering. And he sure as hell didn’t try to run. Because where would he go, aboard an alien ship that might have homicidal monsters hiding away somewhere?

Once inside, the three of them gazed around in wonderment. There were symbols everywhere, but it looked precisely as Rory had imagined it. Once they had gotten past the entryway, they spotted several storage units set into the walls. Rory had seen enough movies to know this didn’t bode well, that these things might be hibernation chambers, and he shouldn’t want to know what they contained.

Except he did want to know. He couldn’t help himself, and he knew Traeger and Sapir and their whole gang of assholes at Project: Stargazer would also not be able to help themselves, given enough time.

Sure enough, Traeger grinned and rubbed his hands together, like a fat and greedy king who has just had a banquet laid out for him.

“Hook the translator into the mainframe, download everything,” he said. Turning to Rory—though only, Rory suspected, because there was no one else there for him to boast to—he added, “Been trying to figure out what these bird-chirping motherfuckers are saying since ’87. Gave the Harvard School of Linguistics a billion-dollar grant. Voilà!”

Gazing uneasily around at the tubes, Sapir said, “What’s inside these things?”

“It’s the property of Project: Stargazer, that’s what the fuck it is,” Traeger replied.

As he spoke, Rory noticed a control panel, like a podium that jutted from the floor between two of the cylinders. The panel was covered in symbols, the components of the Predator language, or at least some form of iconography that their species understood. Rory could see that each of the stasis cylinders was highlighted in red on the display, with a time-code beside them. The numbers were blinking, as if something had stopped them from continuing to count forward.

Or count down , he thought.

A countdown. It had stopped mid-sequence, the blinking an impatient signal, suggesting that all it would take was someone with the right code to get it moving again.

Rory shook himself from his reverie, abruptly aware that Sapir and Traeger were reacting to a commotion outside the ship. He turned to listen, and heard running footsteps, shouting. Then Traeger’s radio squawked. He snatched it angrily from his belt and held it to his ear. Rory heard the urgent voice of one of Traeger’s mercenaries.

“Code Three, Code Three, we have motion at the south fence line.”

“Send a fire team to take a look,” Traeger barked. “Extreme prejudice.”

“Local wildlife?” Sapir ventured, but Rory was smiling.

“It’s my dad. He’s gonna save me now.”

Traeger knelt beside him. His voice was silky, but he had a look on his face like the bullies at school—mean and spiteful. “Well, if it is your daddy—and I truly hope it is—he has to be just about the dumbest motherfucker I’ve ever met. I mean, a Ranger sniper tripping motion sensors? He’d have to be…”

Then his voice tailed off and his face went slack, his eyes opening in horrified realization. Once again grabbing his radio, he looked wildly at Sapir and said, “He’s creating a diversion! It’s a fucking divers—”

Before he could bring the radio up to his mouth, it flew from his hand. As though attacked by an invisible force, he was knocked off his feet, his body smashing against a control panel.

Sapir whirled this way and that, eyes and mouth stretched wide with fear, looking for his boss’s assailant.

“Howdy,” said a voice.

Rory saw the air behind Sapir shimmer and coalesce, and next moment his dad was standing there, face blackened with dirt, a tranquilizer gun locked and loaded, and pointing at Sapir’s face.

Sapir looked nervous, but he did his best to sneer. “What, you’re gonna kill us with a tranq gun?”

McKenna’s voice was low, his hand steady. “You took my boy, so yeah.”

He pulled the trigger. The tranq dart passed through Sapir’s eye and into his brain.