John Holmes - Even Zombie Killers Can Die

Danielle Morano: Tell me who it is first.

Sasha Zivkovic:Why? So you can just come wipe us out? You think I am stupid, woman.

Danielle Morano: So what do you propose?

Sasha Zivkovic: When you come to get him, I will help you from the inside. It is someone on the team. If I not help you, then most of your team will die, and he will die also.

Danielle Morano: Tell me. Then I will send a team.

Sasha Zivkovic:The Indian. Redshirt. I have seen this with my own eyes. He has been bitten many times.

Danielle Morano: Why do you want to betray your friends? How can I trust you?

Sasha Zivkovic:The woman, Brit O’Neil, and that Muslim pig, Ahmed. She is a whore and he is an infidel. I slaughtered many of his kind in the war, and I want her for myself. If I cannot have her, I am tired of this place and want to go home.

Danielle Morano:I have plans for Nick Agostine. Leave him, I will deal with him. The rest, I don’t care.

Sasha Zivkovic:Leave the gold at Grid NZ 15875-45627.

Danielle Morano:It will be there in three days. We will be there two days later.

Sasha Zivkovic:How will I know?

Danielle Morano:You will know. 1800 hours, two days after the gold.

Dinner to me had always been the best time. The whole team was together in the kitchen of our farmhouse, and Ziv and Doc were recovered from their injuries. Joe stood guard on the rooftop, and Brit was fixing a plate to bring to him. The rest of the team sat around the table, joking and telling lies about the things we had done in the past.

“Make sure you put some meat on there.”

Brit tore a leg off the turkey that sat on the counter and set it on the plate, muttering “barbarians” under her breath. I looked at her from across the table as the setting sun cast its rays through the window, setting her red hair on fire. She turned to face me, and gave me one of those awesome smiles.

As I smiled back at her, I heard the window shatter behind me and her face vanished in a pink mist as a heavy .50 caliber bullet punched through her forehead. Her body catapulted backward with the force of the round, to wind up against the kitchen cabinets.

At the table, Hart pitched sideways as another round tore into her shoulder and out the other side of her body. Ziv punched Red hard across the skull with the hilt of the big combat knife he always carried, and followed through the stroke by burying the blade in Ahmed’s chest. With his free hand he lifted his pistol from under the table and shot Doc twice in the chest, and the big man fell forward even as he started to rise. A puddle of blood spread out over the tablecloth.

I stared at Brit’s body, unable to move. The gunshots still echoed in the kitchen as Ziv stood, holding the pistol directly at my face. Behind him, the kitchen door crashed open, and half a dozen black-clad soldiers stormed in, laser sights cutting beams through the gun smoke.

Ziv was putting handcuffs around Reds’ wrists. He shook his head at me, a look of regret showing on his scarred face. “Sorry, Nick. It is nothing personal. It is just about money.”

“YOU BASTARD!” I screamed and leapt out my chair. From the doorway, a slim figure in green fatigues fired a compressed air gun at me. The dart hit me in the chest, and everything went slack as I fell to the floor, my face landing in the pool of cooling blood. Unable to move, the only thing I could see in my field of vision was Brit’s small boot, the laces lying open. How many times had I told her to tie them up properly? I couldn’t move, but I could smell. The metallic tang of blood, a whiff of cordite, a faint odor of corruption where someone’s bowels had let loose the moment they died.

As I lay there, someone kicked me in the head, sending stars shooting across my vision and I heard Doctor Moranos’ quiet voice.

“I have plans for you, Nick. Such awesome plans.” And she laughed.

I woke up with a scream, and Brit immediately sat up in bed, scanning the room with the .38 revolver she kept in a holster on the night table. Seeing nothing, she turned to the light on and put her arm around me.

“Nightmares again?” I nodded my head. Despite her being right there next to me, I could still see her body lying on the floor of our kitchen.

“Nick, I know you don’t like it, but you have GOT to take the Prazozin that Doc gave you. When the shit DOES hit the fan, you’re going to be less than useless if you don’t get any sleep.”

I knew she was right, but I hated taking that crap. It left me completely groggy when I woke up in the morning, and I felt less than useless, unable to think.

“Brit, it was fucking horrible. You were dead, and Ahmed and Hart and Doc, and Ziv betrayed us.”

“You’re just worried about tomorrow. Ziv isn’t going to betray us, this whole plan was your idea in the first place. We have to get that woman into the open, you know there is no way we can get to her in Seattle. Sure, we might take her out, but then we would be done. This way we’re fighting her on OUR ground.”

I was still shaking, and I felt weak inside. Outside, an early summer thunderstorm sent flashes of lighting across the night sky.

The plan, so far, was on schedule. Ziv had picked up the gold two days ago, and had been in further communication with Doctor Morano. We knew when she was coming, and how, courtesy of Major McHale at Flight Ops in Albany. She would be bringing in some heavy hitters, a squad of mercenaries (sorry, “military contractors”) and her two Delta guys to act as snipers. Their LZ was a half mile upriver, on the Stillwater side.

We were going to hit them before they even got into position to hit us. Ahmed, with Red as a spotter, had built a hide site 300 meters away on the second floor of an old building, covering the entire LZ. His orders were to take out the two Delta operators as fast as possible. Ziv, good with a rifle himself, was paired with Brit, in a basement window that had a good line of sight covering most of the open space. Myself, Hart with a SAW, and Red were one assault team. Jim and Donny the Butcher from the Mechanicville salvage crew, along with my farmhand Joe, made up the other, forming a classic L shaped ambush. Doc was on standby as our medic. Our ace in the hole was Major McHale, who knew to vacate the area as soon as the drop off occurred, denying them any kind of top cover.

I ran over the plan in my mind, unable to fall back asleep. The nightmare of Ziv betraying us kept running through my head, but I had to trust him, he owed me his life. I couldn’t think of any other contingencies. It was going to fall to surprise and intelligence about their movements, like Sun Tzu said in the book. Just in case Morano had outthought me and had recon on the building, we had captured several Zombies and were going to let them loose in the first floor, locked up. That way their heat signatures would look like there was someone still in the house, moving around. We could take care of that when we got back, and we would swim the river the night before to get into position.

One aspect of the plan was Morano herself. I wanted her alive, if I could, but I wasn’t going to take any chances on any of the team getting hurt just to capture her. If she died in the first round of gunfire, so be it, but I counted on her being last off the chopper, after he goons had secured the area. If that we the case, McHale and his crew chief were going to lift as fast as possible before she got off, hopefully trapping her onboard.

Brit had, of course, fallen back asleep. I looked at my watch, and saw that it was 03:27. I was due to relieve Doc, who was on watch with Ahmed, at 03:52. Might as well get it over with now, let Doc get some extra sleep. I sat on the edge of the bed and strapped on my leg, then pulled on my multicam then checked my weapons, loaded and on safe.