Adam Baker - Juggernaut

‘What about us?’

‘Guinea pigs. They sent you into the contamination zone to see if you would survive, to see if the virus could be retrieved.’

‘Don’t they have their own guys? Couldn’t they use Delta?’

‘Does this look like an officially sanctioned operation to you? Congressional oversight, all that shit? This is deep black. Strictly back-channel assets. A small bunch of ambitious guys. They’ve overreached themselves, and now they are trying to clean up.’

‘But they’ll pay?’ asked Voss. ‘If we deliver the virus, they’ll pay?’

‘Dollars or roubles. Langley, Russian intelligence, China. Who gives a shit? Someone will make us rich.’

‘So call him up. This guy.’

‘His name is Koell.’

‘Get him to send a chopper.’

‘He’s written us off. He’s pulled the plug. Right now, it’s sun-up, and aerial surveillance is showing him a fuck-ton of bodies and a couple of wrecked choppers.’

‘He’s going to call down some kind of airstrike? You’re sure?’

‘The plane is probably in the air right now. If we are going to ride that locomotive out of here, I suggest we get going.’

The battery compartment. A steel box bolted to the underskirt of the locomotive.

Lucy smashed the padlock with the butt of her rifle. She unclipped the dead battery. Amanda helped drag it from the compartment and dump it on the tunnel floor.

They pushed the fresh Exide battery into the vacant space and attached bulldog terminals.

They climbed in the cab. Lucy checked the driver’s console. Battery indicator lit green.

‘That’s it,’ said Lucy. ‘We’re in business. Let’s grab some water and ammo, and get the fuck out of here.’

They ran to the tunnel entrance. No sign of Voss.

Lucy hit the pressel switch on her radio.

‘Voss? Where the fuck are you?’

No response.

‘Voss. Come on, man. Time to go.’

No reply.

They filled a backpack with ammunition, water and a couple of MRE pouches.

Lucy slung the backpack. Amanda carried the SAW.

They headed back to the train. They climbed aboard one of the umber and cream carriages hitched to the locomotive.

Amanda checked out the interior of the coach.

‘Christ.’

Cobwebbed grandeur. Elegant Queen Anne furniture. Panelled walls inlaid with marquetry foliage. Brass fixtures.

Tunnel light shafted through the windows and lit swirling dust.

Amanda brushed sand from a heavy mahogany desk. She looked through a door into the adjoining carriage. A banquette table and chairs.

‘What is this?’ asked Amanda. ‘Some kind of palace on wheels?’

‘Pretty much.’

Voss climbed into the carriage.

‘Where’s Jabril?’ asked Amanda.

‘Haven’t seen him.’

‘Go look. We’re about to leave. See if he still wants to die in this fucking mine.’

‘I brought a gift.’

Voss hauled Gaunt up into the carriage.

He kicked Gaunt’s legs from under him. The man fell to his knees. He turned to look at Voss.

‘What the fuck are you doing? We had a deal.’

‘The guy says we are on a clock,’ said Voss. ‘Says they are going to sterilise the whole fucking area.’

He took Gaunt’s Thuraya sat phone from his pocket and passed it to Lucy. She examined it.

She stood over Gaunt and kicked him in the gut. He rolled foetal on a Persian rug.

‘What was your mission?’

‘Check out the valley,’ he gasped. ‘Assess the current level of contamination. Retrieve the virus, if possible.’

‘And now?’

‘Mission failed. They’ll fry the entire valley.’

‘What are we talking about? F16s? B52 strike?’

‘A massive thermobaric bomb, big as a bus. It’s called a Sentinel. Blast area wide as a tactical nuke. It’ll airburst over the valley, incinerate everything in a two-mile radius. Burn like the sun. Turn sand to glass.’

‘Fuck,’ muttered Amanda.

‘The over-pressure will break every bone in your body. Then the heat will turn you to ash.’

‘I get the picture. How long have we got?’

‘At a guess, the plane is already in the air, en route from the Emirates. Probably took off at sunrise. Four or five hours’ flight time. We don’t have long.’

Lucy held up the sat phone.

‘Call your boss. Cancel the raid.’

Gaunt shook his head.

‘He won’t listen to me.’

Lucy threw the phone onto a table. She turned to Voss.

‘He said you made a deal.’

Voss fetched the missile case from the quad. He set it down on the carriage floor.

‘The virus,’ said Voss. ‘You said it yourself. We’re old. Used up. This is our last war. We can get a few dollars for the gold. But the virus is our true meal ticket. We can make a trade. Put ourselves on easy street.’

Lucy drew her pistol. She dug the barrel into Gaunt’s ear.

‘What about Toon? Fucker shot him in the head.’

‘Toon was my best friend,’ said Voss. ‘He’d walk through hell for any one of us. If he were here right now, he would take the deal. He’d want us to walk away rich. End our run ahead of the game.’

‘Jabril says this shit has to be destroyed. I think he’s right.’

Lucy crouched and flipped hasps. She lifted the case lid. She took the glass virus cylinder from its foam bed, her face lit blue.

‘Think about it,’ said Voss. ‘Want to spend the rest of your life living out of a bag? One fucked up warzone after another? That litre of liquid is worth millions. Tens of millions. We could have a whole new life. Go where we want, be what we want. All we have to do is deliver that shit to Baghdad.’

Lucy stroked the glass.

‘This is the United States government we’re talking about,’ said Voss. ‘The good guys. They just want to study this bug in a lab somewhere. They wouldn’t use it. They don’t want to wipe out cities. Shit, for all we know they might tweak this stuff and cure cancer.’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t trust governments. I’ve seen too many good men die for no reason.’

She replaced the cylinder and closed the case.

‘We burn it.’

Voss drew his pistol and pointed it at Lucy.

‘I can’t let you do it, boss. I just can’t.’

Lucy slowly got to her feet.

‘Hold on, Voss. Take a moment. Think it through.’

‘I’m taking the virus. You can come with me, or stay behind.’

Amanda raised her rifle. Voss shot her in the thigh. She fell to the floor, clutching her leg, hand already wet with blood.

‘Throw down your shit,’ he said. ‘Come on. Both of you. Throw down.’

‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘We’ve finally got our hands on a big score. I’m not going to let you put a match to it.’

Knives and guns clattered on the floorboards.

Lucy’s assault rifle lay across a table. Her hand twitched like she was itching to snatch it up.

Voss took aim at Amanda’s head.

‘Try it. I’ll drill your girlfriend through the eyes.’

Amanda limped along the tunnel track. She held Lucy for support.

‘We’ll be all right, babe,’ murmured Lucy. ‘Just have to keep it together.’

‘Keep moving,’ said Voss.

They passed ore trucks and box cars.

Gaunt walked beside Voss. His hands were still tied.

‘You going to cut me loose?’

‘I might.’

‘Don’t get any ideas,’ warned Gaunt. ‘I know how to start the locomotive. Without me, you’re going nowhere.’

Voss prodded Lucy in the back with his gun barrel.

‘Over there. By the wall.’

A timber prop thick as a telegraph pole supporting a roof beam.

Lucy and Amanda embraced the prop. Voss lashed their wrists with plastic cuffs.

The tunnel lights flickered and dimmed for a moment. The generator running dry.