Adam Baker - Juggernaut

‘Christ. Looks like we’re walking home.’

Lucy examined the wrecked avionics.

‘Might be fixable.’

‘And who would fly it?’

‘Gaunt.’

‘Forget it, Bokkie. No way am I cutting a deal with that fuck. He dies, no matter what the cost.’

‘You want to cross the desert on foot? It’s big as Texas. Bigger. Anyone we meet is likely to be a Wahabi fuck itching to slit our damn throats. We’d never make it back to Baghdad. And what about Huang? He can barely walk twenty paces. You want to carry him on your back? Leave him behind? Put a pistol in his hand as a mercy? We’re all fucked unless we get airborne. We have to find Gaunt and cut a deal. See if he can fix this thing. I don’t like it. It makes me sick. But we don’t have a choice. He’ll be hiding nearby. Skulking in the shadows. We’ll get Mandy out here with the nightscope.’

Lucy hit the pressel switch on her webbing.

‘Hey, babe.’

No reply.

‘Come in, Mandy.’

No reply.

‘Mandy, respond, over.’

No reply.

‘Mandy, what the fuck is going on?’

Nothing but static hiss in Lucy’s earpiece. She headed for light shafting from the temple entrance. She started to run.

Amanda crouched at the back of the vault and nursed her broken nose. Blood and snot trickled between her fingers.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Jabril. He sat with his back to the door.

The door was wedged shut. A knife blade jammed between internal handles. Jabril’s hook lay discarded on the plate floor. He held a rusted grenade in his left hand. He had pulled the pin with his teeth. If he released his grip the strike lever would flip and trigger the four-second fuse.

‘I’m truly sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

Amanda pulled Kleenex from her pocket. She blew. She spat.

‘Jumped by a cripple.’

Amanda and Jabril had been stacking gold. They hefted boxes from the vault shelves and piled them on the flagstone floor of the temple, ready to be driven to the choppers.

Amanda had found a polymer trunk hidden at the back of the vault. Army green. Four foot long. She dragged it from behind a stack of boxes.

‘Give that to me,’ said Jabril

‘What is it?’

She tugged at the padlock.

‘Don’t touch it.’

He pulled her away from the case. They fought. They threw each other against shelves. Boxes fell, split and spilled gold.

Jabril punched Amanda in the face. She thumped him in the gut and kicked him to the floor. She stood over him, knife in hand.

Jabril lay doubled up.

‘Get up,’ said Amanda. ‘Get up, you fuck.’

Jabril rolled on his back. He had removed his prosthetic hook and extracted the grenade hidden inside. He gripped the ring between clenched teeth and pulled the pin. He held up the little green cylinder like it was a crucifix warding off a vampire. Stand-off.

‘Let’s just chill the fuck out, shall we?’ said Amanda.

Jabril scrambled to his feet.

‘Keep back.’

Jabril pulled the vault door closed, careful not to lose grip on the grenade.

‘Give me your knife.’

‘Fuck you,’ said Amanda.

He held up the grenade.

‘Really want to fight?’

Amanda reluctantly dropped her knife and kicked it towards Jabril.

The vault door had an internal handle in case a guard got shut inside. Jabril awkwardly tucked the grenade in his left armpit while he jammed the knife through the ring-latch, wedging the handle shut.

They sat facing each other. Jabril nursed his bruised belly. Amanda dabbed her nose.

‘Give me the case,’ said Jabril.

‘Kiss my ass.’

Jabril’s radio lay smashed in the corner of the vault. Amanda’s TASC bundle lay on the plate floor. He snagged it with his foot and drew it close.

He held the grenade between his knees. He attached the earpiece and pressed transmit.

‘Lucy? Lucy can you hear me?’

Lucy tugged on the vault door. Locked. Wedged shut from inside.

Faint voice from the earpiece hanging loose at her chest. Jabril.

‘ Lucy? Lucy can you hear me? ’

Hiss and feedback. The radio signal degraded by the steel hull of the cash truck.

She hooked the receiver to her earlobe.

‘What the fuck is going on?’

‘ I didn’t want this to happen. ’

‘Where’s Mandy? Is she in there?’

‘ I need to talk to you. ’

‘Open the fucking door, Jabril.’

‘ You need to listen. ’

Lucy stood on the rear step-plate of the truck and tried to wrench the door open.

‘Let me talk to Mandy.’

Brief pause. Amanda’s voice:

‘ Hey, babe .’

‘Are you all right?’

‘ He’s got a grenade. ’

‘What does he want?’

‘ No idea. You better talk to him. ’

Brief rustle as the radio was handed back to Jabril.

‘Look,’ said Lucy. ‘I don’t know what you want but I’m sure we can work it through. Just come on out. We can talk.’

‘ Your friend. The oriental. ’

‘His name is Huang.’

‘ You must kill him. Kill him and burn the body. ’

Voss had half-carried the injured man up the processional avenue to the cavernous temple interior and sat him against one of the massive granite columns that supported the roof.

Lucy crouched next to Huang and checked him out. His eyes were closed. He appeared to be sleeping. She walked out of earshot.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘ This valley is home to a pathogen so lethal, so virulent, it could wipe out entire cities. That’s why I came back. To stamp out every last vestige of this virus. Your friend is infected. There is no treatment, no cure. He will slide slowly into dementia, then turn on you. He will attack. He will be driven by a feverish desire to bite, to penetrate, to invade. You’ve seen those soldiers out there. Those men used to be my friends. Now they are monsters. Better for Huang if he dies before the transformation is complete. Let him say his goodbyes then be at peace. ’

‘I’ll risk it.’

‘ I understand. You want to get help. You want to fly your friend back to Baghdad and get medical attention. Dose him with antivirals, antibiotics. It won’t do any good. And you must understand the danger. If this pathogen reaches a major city nothing short of a nuclear strike would halt its progress. What is the name of that military hospital in the Green Zone? ’

‘Twenty-eighth CASH.’

‘ Picture it. All those people. Doctors, nurses, wounded soldiers lying in the corridor waiting for treatment. Huang thrashing, biting, spraying blood. It’s a military trauma unit. They treat gunshots, blast wounds. They aren’t equipped to quarantine a serious pathogen. The disease would soon be carried to NATO airbases in Europe and out into the world. Paris, London, New York, Tokyo. Millions would die. ’

‘Well, that’s certainly something to think about,’ said Lucy. She removed her thumb from the transmit button clipped to her webbing and turned to Voss.

‘We have to get in there and waste this fuck.’

‘Forget it.’

‘We could force the door. We’ve got a little C4. We could rig a breaching charge. And there are vents in the roof. I think there was a can of CS in one of the choppers. We could gas him out.’

‘He has a grenade. We’d have to bust our way in and extract Mandy in four, five seconds. Can’t be done. We have to talk him out.’

‘Go back to the choppers,’ said Lucy. ‘See what you can find. Don’t leave weapons or ammo lying around. I don’t want Gaunt re-armed.’

‘How about you?’