Grunt Traitor (33 page)

There was a pause long enough for me to wonder if I’d lost coms, then, “Permission granted.”

I sent a secure ping to Ethridge and waited. After about ten seconds, he pinged back and we went secure. “Ethridge, this is Mason. Are you in contact with HMIDs?”

“Affirmative,” he said, his voice even thinner and laced with more static than Olivares’s. “HMID Thompson has been assisting.”

“Please tell Thompson that I am with Sebring and ask him why he hasn’t contacted me.”

“Affir—ve.”

Damn it. He was breaking up. We kept walking. I continually cycled through everyone’s status and my HUD’s active movement tracker, out of habit rather than necessity.

A few seconds later I heard, “HMID—tethered to—can’t—Sandi—” Then nothing. I tried several more times to reconnect, but we must’ve been too far apart and I had no luck.

What had he meant? Why was he talking about Sandi? Assuming, of course, that it was the same Sandi I knew?

We suddenly changed direction and turned west down East Vine. I wasn’t familiar with the area. I used our pre-loaded digitized map and found the cross streets; we were heading towards South Glendora Avenue. I scanned my map for any hint at our destination, but couldn’t find anything obvious.

We were seven miles from the 605 and twenty-five miles to the hive, and had used less than one percent of our power. The batteries were truly a miracle. If I’d been wearing a Generation I suit, we’d have spent at least twenty-five percent power by now, if not more.

We left a subdivision and found an empty strip mall to our right. I picked out several major chain stores. Two men wrestled over a shopping cart beneath the sign for a paint store. Could there really be huffers in this day and age? I also saw a man with a rifle standing on top of a building across Glendora. My HUD tracked four more soldiers on adjacent buildings.

“Dewhurst, are you seeing this?”

“I see. They belong to GNA; just providing overwatch for the civilians in the area in the event of a fungee sighting.”

“Mmm-hmm. Still, Tarantulas, be on alert.”

We rounded the corner and headed into a U-shaped plaza. A sign read
Hong Kong Plaza
. All the cars had been removed, revealing a large flat surface.

Sebring had his car parked on the far side, and Stranz was the first of us in the lot.

“Stranz, what do you see?”

“It’s empty down here. I’m tracking five men on the roof, but no other movement.” Then he said, “Strange.”

My spider sense tickled at the back of my neck. “What’s strange?”

“Well, everywhere we’ve been windows have been busted out and doors bashed in. But this place is different. All the mirrored windows look like new. All the doors look new, too.”

“Did you say mirrored?”

We kept moving into the lot and I saw what he meant. Every window had been replaced with mirrored glass. Why would someone put in new mirrored windows? Then it hit me. “Tarantulas, form on me!” Mirrored windows are for hiding behind.

I opened fire at the windows, aiming high, near the roofline; I didn’t necessarily want to kill anyone, I just wanted to see behind the glass. Sula, Ohirra, and Mal saw what I was doing and did the same. I noted that Dewhurst and Stranz had drifted over towards Sebring. What was going on?

As the glass fell and the dust settled, I saw.

Each store held a two-man squad standing behind armor plates, with an M134 tripod-mounted minigun. The center store, a big-box toy store that had once sold Power Rangers and Barbies, now held a no-shit M60A3 Vietnam-era tank with a 105mm main gun. Only one store front held something other than a weapons system, and that was the one nearest Sebring, who’d been protected from stray bullets from our miniguns by Dewhurst and Stranz standing in front of him. A long black HMID box rested in this one.

“LT, see the mines beneath all the windows?” Mal whispered.

I’d missed them. Sure enough, attached to the wall and painted the same color as the rest of the building were claymores. I counted seventy-two of them. I didn’t see any wires, so someone must have hardwired them into the building, probably so they could be activated from a single main switch. Each one could fire seven hundred one-eighth-inch steel balls out to fifty meters in a sixty degree arc, killing anyone in their wake. Minimal damage would occur behind them. Probably blow out some of the bricks and cement.

I turned to Dewhurst. “What’s in this for you?”

“Your government wants an HMID, Mason. OMBRA refuses to sell us one, but Sebring has one to sell me.”

“Why not just trade a state for one, Utah, maybe.”

“Let me rephrase that. OMBRA’s price is too high and we can get a better deal with GNA.”

“What’s in it for Sebring?” I asked, jerking my head towards the guy.

“He wants an EXO so he can reverse engineer it.”

“So you’re going to trade your EXO for an HMID?”

“Not mine; Sergeant Stranz’s. Your government wants a copy as well.”

I stared at him for a moment, equal parts pleased that the shoe had dropped, and pissed that I hadn’t seen it coming. “You keep saying
my
government, but I don’t really have a government. America’s democracy was murdered by the Cray.”

“Republic,” said Stranz. “We had a republic, a representational democracy. In the end, people didn’t have very much say.”

“And you, Stranz? What the hell are you doing?”

Dewhurst spoke first. “Let’s be civil about this. He wants to rejoin his country. Don’t you think everyone has that right? Like Mal and Sula; they have that right, too. Do you want to rejoin your country? We need some help rebuilding and could use your expertise.”

I could have said something. I could have argued against it, but I kept my mouth shut. Dewhurst was right. If they wanted to go, then fine, let them.

“I’m with the LT,” Mal said.

“So am I,” Sula said.

“And you knew better than to ask me,” Ohirra finished.

“You heard them,” I said, pleased with my grunts. Now it was my turn. “Stranz, you can always change your mind. I don’t know what he’s promised you, but I’ve always been above board. I’ve always treated you with respect and honor. Where’s the honor in this? Why all the trickery? The thievery? One of the principles of our founding fathers was that
the only reliable basis for sound government and just human relations is Natural Law
. Weren’t we just talking about the Golden Rule? Do you want to be treated the way he’s treating us? It’s only a matter of time, Sergeant Stranz.”

Dewhurst laughed. “All right, all right. You had your say. Let me conclude this transaction and I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait a moment,” I said, eyeing the weaponry arrayed against us. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“Mr. Sebring assures me that he’ll let you continue your mission. It’s your government’s assertion that your mission is critical and he understands that.”

“Stop calling it
my
government. Any government I’ll have doesn’t lie, cheat, and steal.”

He laughed again. “If you’re naïve enough to believe that, then you’ll never have a government. Then of course, OMBRA is your de facto government now, isn’t it? How have they treated you lately? Locked you up any?” He turned to Sebring. “Let’s conclude this. My transportation is inbound in six minutes and I want to be out of here before there are any snags.”

I decided that I didn’t want to waste any more time arguing. I toggled Dewhurst’s status in my HUD and gave the command for his suit to shut down, but nothing happened. I went through the sequence again, thinking maybe I’d done something wrong, but still nothing happened. Damn!

Sebring nodded, then looked at me. “Lieutenant Mason, if you and your men would please just stand aside, I’d appreciate it. We’ll get you on your way in no time at all. Of course, to ensure your cooperation, I’ve prepared several things that should dissuade you from interfering, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Dewhurst had been one step ahead of me all along. Had he ever intended to do the mission?

“Did you hear me, Lieutenant Mason?” Sebring pressed.

“I heard you. Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“Excellent.” He turned back to Dewhurst. “Now, the suit, please.”

Dewhurst turned to Stranz and ordered him to give Sebring the suit.

I noted that Stranz and Ohirra were on a secure private line. I watched as Stranz looked down at the sergeant’s chevrons painted on the arms of his EXO. I could almost hear his thoughts. I hurriedly contacted Sula and gave her a set of orders, which she immediately followed. I felt her slide in behind me, but kept my attention on Stranz instead of alerting anyone to her movement.

Dewhurst must’ve noticed the private conversation as well. “Ohirra, stop whatever you’re doing.”

“You’re not in my chain of command,” she said.

“The hell I’m not. This land you’re standing on belongs to the New United States of North America.”

“Actually it belongs to God’s New Army,” Sebring said with a smile. “But we’ll discuss that later. So am I getting my suit or not?”

Dewhurst put an EXO hand on Stranz’s arm, the gesture covering the sergeant’s chevron painted there. “Come on, son. Don’t listen to her. Your country needs you. It’s depending on you. She’s only in it for a profit. We’re in it for a future.”

If my eyes had rolled any harder, everyone would have heard them. Still, I wanted to see how Stranz would respond.

“First let’s get the HMID out here,” he said. “Moving it with the EXOs will be much easier.”

Sebring nodded. “Indeed, it will.”

Dewhurst and Stranz entered the store front, got behind the HMID, then pushed it through the broken window. The glass piled in front of the composite metal box as it was pushed into the parking lot. What would have taken a dozen men and rollers took the two EXOs hardly a minute.

Stranz walked up to Sebring, who was beaming at the feat. “What do you think?”

“I can’t wait to try it on. A suit like that—”

His last words were choked off as Stranz put a hand around his neck.

Ohirra shouted, her voice magnified through the speakers on her suit. “No-one move or he’ll crack Sebring’s neck.”

My HUD was flashing as laser indicators bloomed from more than a dozen weapons, but no one opened fire.

Stranz adjusted his grip so the man was facing forward, his back to the EXO, Stranz’s arm around his throat.

Dewhurst took a few steps back. “What’s going on?”

“Your plan worked, Major. Mr. Pink will be pleased,” Ohirra said.

Sebring fought to speak. Finally, “Your plan?”

Dewhurst shook his head. “I don’t know what they’re talking about. This isn’t any plan of mine.”

Somehow Ohirra had orchestrated something right under my nose. While I admired her, I wished she would have brought me in on it. I reminded myself to have a conversation with her later.

My HUD began tracking an inbound aircraft and identified it as a Chinook helicopter. A few seconds later, we could hear it.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” Sebring managed to say.

“No, he’s not,” I said. I directed Sula to perform her task.

She removed the nuke from my back, then took off, running first out of the kill zone, then down the street. One of the men on the roof took a pot shot at her. Whatever. Even if it had hit, it wouldn’t have done any damage.

“What are you going to do?” Dewhurst said. “Stop me?”

That was exactly what I was going to do. I went from standing still to full run in two seconds, barreling into him and bowling him over. He tried to bring his minigun up, but I grabbed it with both hands and wrenched it back and forth. He hit me with his free hand, trying to dislodge me where I was straddling him. With a final yank, the minigun came free, in a shower of sparks and pops. With my left arm, I managed to grab the wrist of the hand that was hitting me. My right arm came down, using the minigun like a hammer, striking him over and over. I saw his faceplate crack, and his helmet start to collapse.

Then a white burning sound surged through my brain, evaporating everything else. I fell back, losing track of my hands, my weapon, the universe. My world was white noise, layers of static on static on static. I barely felt myself being struck by something.

Images began to flash through my mind—Mother, the aged Hollywood actress turned cultish survivor group leader. Was it her doing this? Was she psychic, somehow, and assaulting my senses? The images sped up—men, women, children, animals, Mother, men, women, children, animals, Mother, men, women—before crystallizing into a single image: a high school photo of Sandi. Last I’d seen of her, she’d been helping me out of the black alien vine. Could it be her?

Sandi?

The noise somehow got louder. More pain. I could barely think the words,
Turn down the noise. Sandi, is that you?

The blow that hit me felt like a Volkswagen had been dropped on me. I opened my eyes and saw that Dewhurst was now on top of me, bringing his minigun around for another hit. I managed to catch it with both hands. We strained against each other.