Dead Island: Operation Zulu (25 page)
CHAPTER 75: IT PAYS TO BE PARANOID
"You're fucking kidding." Crossley looked up at Brooks as she stood between both jumpseats. "Are you sure?"
Brooks shrugged, looking more like a kid in Hale’s drooping shirt than the battletested veteran she was. "He's infected. So's the doctor. They corroborated each other's story. Orlac was the guy we were supposed to rescue."
"Infected?" Jackson gave the captain a worried look.
"Don’t worry." She gave the co-pilot a reassuring look. "We have them restrained, Mister Jackson."
"Uh huh. After that island?" He shuddered.
"So what do you need?" Crossley asked.
"Call a mayday. Say we’re going down over the ocean. You have a transponder in this thing?"
"Nope," Jackson said proudly. "Sometimes it pays to be paranoid."
"That’s great. We cannot land at any big airports. Do you have any ideas?"
"Sure do." Crossley picked up his radio mic. "There’s a dirt strip we used to use when we made some unauthorized flights." He winked at Brooks. "We have enough fuel to make it there, and no one will be the wiser."
"I don’t think Strategic Securities is going to pay off on this one."
"Figures," Crossley said.
"Well, you have the Pit Bull and a shit load of weapons and ammo still aboard. They have to be worth something."
"We can make it work." The pilot nodded. "Thanks, Captain."
"Hey, thanks for getting our asses off the island."
"No worries, Captain." Jackson grinned. "Piece of cake."
"Hmm." Brooks pursed her lips and pulled at Hale's shirt. "Piece of cake."
After Brooks returned to the cargo hold, she noticed the six remaining members of her team were standing in a close circle, talking in low, heated tones. No one liked being played for a fool, especially a situation as fucked up as this one. As she made her way toward the team, the Russian coughed and spoke up.
"Captain, I have opportunity for you. Please."
"Arkady, what could we possibly do for each other?"
"Put bullet in my head."
"No problem. Now quit—"
"Listen. You must destroy the cases of virus."
"Yes."
"On side of case is a hidden panel. Slide it open, and there is red button. Press three times, and it will activate incendiary charges inside. Burn virus to nothing."
Brooks bent down and lifted one of the heavy cases. Arkady pointed out where the panel should be. Brooks slid the panel open, exposing the small red button.
"Three times."
"I will cut your balls off if this is bullshit, Arkady."
"Cut my cock off. It’s not trap." He smiled. "Trust me."
"Okay." Brooks dropped the case in his lap. "You do it."
"Fine. Fine. Where is trust?" Arkady pressed the button three times, and there was an instant whooshing sound from inside the case. "Touch case." Brooks reluctantly did. The outer casing was warm to the touch; she could feel the internal destruction going on inside it. Satisfied, the captain did the same thing to the other case.
"There is no more virus. Now, all you have is him." Arkady nudged the barely conscious doctor. "Captain, I still have deal you would greatly enjoy and …" he dropped the warm case onto Orlac's lap. "You get to kill me."
CHAPTER 77: YOU LIKE BONE SAWS?
"Don’t snivel, Senator Kubicek," Mister Black said as he rolled the scalpel around in his finely manicured hand. "I told you and Collingsworth what would happen if we couldn’t clean up your mess. Well," he gently flicked his wrist and with two short cuts the senator was screaming into his gag, "we couldn’t. So here we are, bonding over Cyndi Lauper." He waved a gloved hand in the air. The Muzak version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" was playing in the background. "You two dipshits have cost me a lot of time, research, and money. Lots of money that I now have to recoup." His phone buzzed in his apron pocket. "That would be for me." He pulled off his blood-stained gloves and tossed them on his tool tray. "Hello?" Black said, almost giddily. "Yes, yes. Sanitized? Good. Yes. Lost at sea? You sure? No survivors. I see. Thank you. Yes, you may proceed with our other plan. Thank you." He turned off his phone and dropped it on the tray.
"Well, as it would happen, the island was sanitized completely, and our contractors were killed in a plane crash. Probably due to the bombing." He smiled and ran a hand through Kubicek's sweaty mop of hair. "Clean as a whistle." He pulled a new pair of gloves out of a cardboard box. "Now, this is really going to hurt, but …" he was starting to get aroused, "it’s also going to take a real, real long time. Good news is, I have a lot of music. I mean, a
lot
of music. It is insane the amount of Muzak I have." He clasped his hands together. "You know, I’m sorry, Senator. This is all about you. Please forgive me. Sometimes, I talk too much. Well, let’s see." He looked down at his tool tray. "You like bone saws? Of course you do."
TWO DAYS LATER—0100 AM
Mister Black awoke with a horrendous, splitting headache. He’d really tied one on. That good-looking redhead at the club. He had brought her home, right? Smiling, Black slowly opened his bloodshot eyes, expecting to see the woman lying next to him. Instead, he was surprised to see himself in the mirrored ceiling of his basement. Black screamed as he stared at his reflection restrained atop his well-used carving table, his eyes wide open in the glass. He screamed again into the dirty, oft-used gag.
"Now, now, Mister Black," a vaguely familiar female voice said from somewhere in the room. "No need to scream. I just want to have a little talk with you. If I remove this gag, do you promise not to scream?" The billionaire quickly nodded. "Good," the woman said. A hooded figure dressed in black removed the gag from his mouth.
"What do you want?"
"Just to talk," the woman said calmly.
"Look, I have money! Lots of money!"
"Lookey here, mate," a male with an Australian accent cut in. "The lady said she wants to talk. It would behoove you to oblige her," he said sarcastically.
Black tugged at his restraints.
"Gag him," the female said with authority.
"Wait, wait!" Black pleaded. "I’ll listen."
"Very good. Now, Mister Black, I have a few questions. You answer them honestly, and I promise we won’t kill you or even hurt you. Lie to us, and, well … you have a whole bunch of neat tools for us play with. As a friend of mine says, “You feel me?"
"I … feel … you," Black said quietly.
"Now, Eller Island. Was that whole virus thing your idea?"
"What?" Black moved in his restraints. Who the hell? Black shook his head. "Never heard of Eller Island."
"Very good. Will you hand me that probe-looking thing? Yeah, the long, wide one."
"No, no, no! Yes, yes, I know Eller Island."
"Was it your idea to infect the people there as a test?"
"Are you going to kill me?" Black whined.
"Only if you lie to me," the woman said. "Now answer."
"Eller Island was a beta test.” Black sighed heavily. "It was meant to happen."
"What were you practicing for?"
"Please …"
"Will you heat that up for me?" the woman asked the Australian.
"Sure."
"Wait … wait!" Black screamed. "Mali! It was to be used on Mali so I could use the post-outbreak UN treaties to secure all the oil!" the billionaire cried. "Please, please! I have a lot of money … please." Tears started rolling down his cheeks.
"Well, I have no more questions for you, Mister Black. Sergeant?"
"No, Captain. Mister Black was quite informative."
"Sergeant? Captain?" Black tried again to move in his restraints. "You two are fucking security contractors? Fuck you both! Let me go, and I won’t have you killed!"
"Cocky for a man locked up in a torture chamber." Brooks leaned over the table so Black could see her face.
"You!" The veins in his face bulged with rage. "You’re the bitch from the club last night!" He spat utter venom. "You drugged me, you fuck!"
"Thirteen of my men died on that island, not counting all the other men, women, and children that were turned into flesh-eating monsters! All for a sick, rich man's pleasure."
"So what? I own corporations, armies, politicians! What do you have?"
"Freedom," Brooks said simply. "I promised we wouldn’t kill you, Mister Black, as tempting as it is. Tell me, how much cash do you keep in that safe in your den?"
"My safe?"
"Don’t be stupid now, mate," Newman said. "We can blow it open if you want. The combination would be much cleaner for you."
Black thought about the furniture and his paintings and his journals, his glorious journals that were stored inside. These idiots could destroy them all if they set the wrong charge. "Okay, it’s 7-0-6-2-0-8-6." He swallowed nervously. "Please, please leave my journals," Black begged. He heard the man repeating the combination into a cell phone.
"We don’t want your sick fucking journals. We just need to get paid. You really do owe us, Mister Black. That was one fucked up day." She leaned in close. "You know what I mean?"
"I’m … I’m … sor—"
"Don’t say it. You’ll just embarrass us all. You ready, Sergeant?"
"Good to go, Captain."
"Well, Mister Black, you will not see me again. Do not come after us. I know you love your Muzak. You made that very clear to me over drinks. I thought I’d be nice and leave you something to listen to." She waved his stereo remote in front of him. "My mother loved this group when she was a young girl." Brooks pressed the play button, and suddenly the Go Go’s were singing "Our Lips Are Sealed," the real version, not the Muzak one. Black spat and growled at the abomination that flowed through his speakers. "I have the whole album cued up. You’ll love it." She patted him on the shoulder, and he recoiled from her touch. "Relax. I’ll send some people down shortly to free you."
"I will kill you!" Black said angrily. "You don’t know who you are fucking with!"
"Believe me, I do. Oh, two more things." She bent down close to him and pointed up to the mirror. "Look up there closely. See that writing?"
Black squinted. He could see thirteen names printed in magic marker. All of them were in order by rank.
"What the fuck?"
"Remember those names. Those men died doing your dirty work!"
"Fuck you, peon!" Black spat at her, striking Brooks on the cheek. The captain slowly wiped it off then shook her head. "Second thing." She held the fragmentation grenade in her hand so Black could see it.
"No!"
"I told you, I’m not going to kill you." She pulled the pin and stuck the grenade in Black's right hand. She closed his soft hand tightly around it. "Don’t let go. You’ll live as long as you hold on to it."
"Noooo!"
"I hope your hand doesn’t fall asleep before you get free." Black heard the two head up the steps.
"I’ll drop it, bitch!" he yelled. "I’ll blow us all up!"
"No you won’t," Brooks said calmly.
The billionaire heard the door open and close. Now, Black was raging. No one got the upper hand on him! No one, especially not some two-bit ex-soldier! He squirmed around in his restraints, trying, without much success, to get loose. He gripped the grenade tightly in his hand. Maybe he could toss it far enough away. He couldn’t. His palm was sweating. He squeezed the explosive tightly.
"Fuck!" In his mind, he was already lining up the various tortures for each of the surviving contractors. It was a mistake for her to leave him down here humiliated and alive. Eventually his manservant Parker would come down to the basement to haul away the human waste that Black usually accumulated during the day. All the billionaire had to worry about was shitting and pissing himself while he waited. A few minutes later, he heard the heavy door open and close.
"Parker?" he shouted. "Parker?" Nothing but a sickening, familiar stench and the sound of shuffling feet. He heard the door open again, and the female captain yelled down to him.
"Mister Black, I have a couple of gentlemen who are very excited to meet you. Pavel Arkady and Hans Orlac."
"Orlac?" Black's eyes bulged. He started to panic. "I thought you were going to free me! I thought you were going to free me!" He pulled on his wrist restraints, still unable to free himself.
"I am."
The billionaire couldn’t see anything but his terrified reflection in the mirrors. The awful smell and the soulless moans were almost upon him. Orlac? The shuffling footsteps grew closer and closer. Hungry moans. No. Orlac was dead. Orlac was dead!
It was a full hour before Black stopped screaming and the grenade fell from his hand.
