This Machine Kills (21 page)

   Just as he was about to wave off the search, a voice broke out into his ear-piece, “All units get back to the lawns now!”

   It was Sergeant Appleby, in charge of the search of the North building; “We’ve found someone up here.”

   While Taylor waited on the lawn for Appleby and his prisoner to arrive, he studied the work that had been done to the grounds. He knew nothing of farming, but could see that this was more than just a few vegetables growing randomly. The panes of glass leaning on each other to form A-frames were being used as greenhouses and though much smaller and less attractive than those he was used to, tomatoes, oranges and other fruits were growing plentifully within their confines.

   In neat rows in the soil surrounding him, he could identify all manner of vegetables that he recognised from the shelves of the macromarket. There were others though, whose names he didn’t have the slightest clue of (no matter how hard he thought back to the meals his mother prepared for him). It was easily the most impressive of all the co-ops he had ever come across. Watching the troopers scan the crops with their genetic coding devices, he thought it was a shame it would meet the same fate as the rest of them.

   A set of doors in the northern building swung open and a few noisy troopers charged out. They were demonstrating the sort of high spirits that would have been expected from a group of fans watching their favourite team play murder-ball. Following them was a huge man being led out in hang cuffs. The troopers behind him had their rifles aimed at his head. Taylor could already feel his stomach begin to drop.

   “Hey Sarge,” Rudy smiled, “ain’t that your friend they got there?”

   As Appleby and his men walked Ben to the lawn, Dyer had already made his way to where Taylor and his team were congregating. Judging from his heavy breathing he had run all the way.

   “Hopefully it won’t have proved to be a waste of time after all.” he said in gasping breaths, “We may have just found ourselves the Shepherd.”

   Taylor shook his head, “Nah, that won’t be him.”

   “Really? How come you’re so sure?” Dyer tried his best not to sound deflated, “Looks like he fits the bill just fine to me.”

   “Scuse me for interrupting sir,” Rudy said, his head held at just the right  angle to suggest Dyer’s superiority, “but in case you didn’t know, the black fellow and Sergeant Taylor used to be friends.”

   Taylor shot a glance to Rudy who was now smiling broadly at him.

  “Is that right?” Dyer asked excitedly, he could already smell a positive result coming from this new development.

   Taylor nodded.

   “Does he trust you?”

   “Not anymore, he wouldn’t trust any of us now.”

   Dyer smiled, “Maybe, but if anyone can get him to talk then it’s going to be you. Besides, if he doesn’t talk now you know what will happen to him in the interrogation suites.”

   At this point Taylor could feel the confidence exuding from his colleague. He hated being played by his own people and Dyer was playing him perfectly. Seeing that Appleby and his men were nearly with them, Dyer spoke again,

   “Tell you what, I’ll give you five minutes alone with him, see if you can’t get your friend to open up to us. Your men can keep guard,” he said, patting Taylor on the shoulder, “we wouldn’t want our star prisoner making a break for it.”

   The prisoner offered no resistance as Appleby’s men led him to within feet of Dyer and Taylor.

   “We found him in the attic,” Appleby reported, “almost missed him too.  He was watching the whole thing through these.”

   He handed Dyer a pair of binoculars. As the men spoke, Ben’s eyes remained glued to his old friend. His face was completely blank of expression.

   “Well done Sergeant,” Dyer congratulated him, “good work.”

   One of the troopers, who had just finished scanning the vegetables, approached Dyer.

   “Sir we have checked the foodstuffs and they’re all illegal.”

   Dyer nodded, “I thought so, prepare the chemical sprays and destroy the lot.”

   Ben’s eyes moved away from Taylor, for the first time betraying his emotions,

   “They’re vegetables,” he said, “how the fuck can they be illegal?”

   Dyer answered in the most patronising of tones, “As you well know, ClearSkies owns the patent and intellectual property to all these products. Only seeds created by them can be grown, and these,” he nodded at a pile of dug up carrots, “are genetically impure. It is illegal to use the non-registered breeds you are harvesting.”

   Dyer turned to face the trooper once more, “What about the animals?”

  “Same,” the man nodded.

   “Then you know what to do.”

   The trooper scampered back to the rest of his unit.

   “Sergeant Appleby, bring your men with me.” Dyer commanded, “We’re going to let Taylor and our man have some time together.”

   When they had gone, only Taylor and his crew were left with Ben.

   “You know I wish I could say it was a surprise to see you here but nothing you do surprises me anymore,” the prisoner said, “you’re so fucking weak.”

   Taylor took a step forward,

  “Listen Ben, just cut the bullshit alright. You are going to be in a lot of trouble unless you tell me everything you know about the Shepherd right now.”

   Ben went to motion with his hands but the handcuffs restricted his movement, “I’d love to give to you some dirt for your masters but I don’t know shit.”

   “Really, then I’m sure they’ll be happy to say you’re him if it means they get a result. Do you want that?”

   Ben looked unperturbed,  “They can say whatever the fuck they like, but they’ll soon realise I’m not him when things start taking shape.”

   Taylor leaned closer in; his voice dropping so only Ben could hear him.

   “Please. If you don’t start talking they are going to interrogate you. I have seen what they do to people in those places and believe me, it’s not something you want to happen.”

   “Oh, I’m sure you have. I bet you just love to watch people getting tortured, you fucking traitor.”

   Taylor struck Ben with his open hand. It was out of frustration more than wanting to do him any harm. The slap landed solidly and echoed around the buildings. If it had been a smaller man, he would have knocked him off his feet. As he stepped back he could see a large, red welt had formed across his cheek.

   “That’s it, do it!” Ben said, his voice remaining steady. Only the tears that ran from his eyes betrayed his demeanour.

   “Come on, hit me again. Let me see what you’ve got.”

   It was Ben who was now stepping forward.

   “Do it Sarge,” Lennox yelled, “kill that fucker.”

   Ben advanced another step, “Come on Taylor you’ve always wanted to beat me, here’s your shot.”

   With both hands
Taylor pushed him as hard as he could in the chest but the larger man barely moved.

   Ben laughed, “Is that all you’ve got you pussy? Come on, do it. You’ve betrayed everyone else in your life, you might as well turn on me now.”

   Taylor stepped back, “Fuck you Ben.”

   As he retreated, the tears in his eyes blurred his vision of the figure that had charged towards him.

   “Don’t walk away from me Taylor!” Ben shouted.

   His progress was halted by the butt of Skinner’s rifle slamming into the side of his face. When the commotion started, he had left the Rhino to watch the events unfold. Ben staggered to the side, his left leg temporarily buckling beneath him before he found his feet again. Skinner looked shocked; he had hit hundreds of people like that before and none of them had stayed standing.

   Ben managed to smile at Skinner as the blood ran from a deep cut on his eyebrow,

   “Is that all you’ve got big fella?”

   Before Taylor could yell at him to stop, Skinner was on Ben, launching the rifle butt at his head in a powerful arc. Ben ducked under the weapon and drove his right shoulder into Skinner’s exposed ribcage, temporarily winding him. In an instant he had sprung back to his full height and despite being handcuffed, threw his elbow into Skinner’s jaw, dropping the even bigger man onto his knees. As he went down, Ben’s own knee drove into Skinner’s face, knocking him out cold.

   With his enemy’s back to him, Lennox saw his chance and launched his own assault. Almost without realising it, Taylor became aware he was calling out his friend’s name, warning him of Lennox’s approach. Ben spun around just in time to see his attacker coming. He kicked out with all his might, landing his foot square in Lennox’s balls. The stockier man let out a cry as he doubled over in pain, then in a display of speed that defied his size, Ben leapt forward with his chained fists above his head, slamming them down onto Lennox’s back, causing him to collapse onto his face.

   Spitting blood at his feet, Ben turned to confront the target of his fury,

   “Come on Taylor, you next.”

   “No asshole,” Rudy’s pistol was aimed at Ben’s head, “me next.”

   Before Taylor could get near him, Rudy had already fired. The man-mountain had gone down so quickly, he thought he must have been seeing things. For as long as he had known him, Nails had never gone down, not ever. He dived to the floor to check for signs of life but it was all-too evident his friend was dead; Rudy’s shot had blown half his forehead away, exposing Ben’s shattered skull to the world.

   Taylor jumped back to his feet, still not sure if what he had just seen had really happened, “What the fuck did you do?”

   Rudy lowered the gun to his waist, “My job. Just like you should have.”

   “You didn’t need to shoot him you son of a bitch!” Taylor screamed.

   Rudy’s head shook in disbelief, “No you’re right, you should have. But you stood by and watched him take out two of your men. You even tried to warn the motherfucker.”

   Taylor was temporarily stuck for words.

   “You’re an animal,” he finally said, defeat resounding in his voice.

   “No,” Rudy answered, “I’m a SecForce trooper just like you. The difference is I’m not a burden on the team. You know something Taylor, one day your guilty conscience is going to get us all killed.”

   Before he realised he’d done it, Taylor hit him with a straight right that he threw from deep down in the soles of his feet. Rudy briefly fell to the ground but was back up before Taylor could shorten the distance between them; he had taken the punch well. The pistol now pointing at his chest stopped Taylor in his tracks.

   “Come on Sarge, I dare you,” Rudy enticed him, “you take one more step and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

   Doyle, who had watched in silence until that moment, stepped toward his team-mate, “Come on Rudy, stop fucking around,”

   “Shut-up Doyle,” Rudy said, never averting his eyes from Taylor. 

   “I’m serious,” Doyle shouted, “that’s your boss you’re waving your gun at.”

   “I said shut the fuck up boy, this is none of your business.”

   Taylor placed his hands out in front of him, the anger quickly subsiding. He knew not to fuck with Rudy in these conditions, he’d seen what he was capable of.

   “Put it down Rudy, before it’s too late.”

   “Fuck you Taylor, I think I might take you out right now. Everyone saw what you did, I’d be defending myself.” 

   Taylor dropped his hands, “Don’t be stupid, they’ll shoot you.”

   Rudy shrugged, “Yeah well, it’ll be worth it just to get rid of your sorry ass. I’m sick of your bullshit lies. We all are.”

   He thought about it for a second then smiled as he raised the gun towards Taylor’s head,

   “Fuck it, I’m gonna do it…”

   He stopped talking and attempted to move his head to the right, all the time trying to work out whose cold pistol muzzle was now digging into his temple. Skinner hadn’t been the only one to leave the Rhino when things started getting heavy.

   “Put it down now, there’s a good chap,” Spike’s voice sounded dangerously serious.

   Rudy sighed before letting out a tired laugh, “You haven’t got the balls fat man.”

   Spike pushed the gun further into his head, making it tilt at an awkward angle, “Really, you want to make a bet on it? I haven’t had a winner all day.”

   Rudy’s smile faded as he recognised something in Spike’s voice that told him he meant it. He threw the gun nonchalantly to the floor,

   “I’ll get you for this you fat fuck, mark my words.”

    Spike patted him on the shoulder with his spare hand, “Yeah right, sure you will.”

   “Drop your weapons and put your hands up!” Sergeant Dyer’s voice boomed out, as his and Appleby’s men surrounded them.

   Spike, the only one still left with a weapon, did as commanded then placed his hands on his head.

   “Sergeant Taylor,” Dyer shouted, “do you mind telling me what the hell is going on here and why my only suspect is lying there with his fucking brains blown out?”

   “Yes sir,” Taylor answered, “ but first I want you to arrest that man for trying to kill me.”