and that was enough. I saw a keypad to the left and waved my stolen keycard. The light flashed red. The door remained locked. I put my back to it and mule-kicked, ready to explode inside and start the slaughter.
It didn’t budge.
Damn it.
The shouting stopped.
Time for Indiana Jones.
I knocked.
Nothing happened for a second. I heard a shuffle, then a muffled, “What?”
I said, “Boss wants to talk.”
I was betting that it would be beyond the guy’s imagination that anyone evil could be kicking the door in this secure location. I was right.
I heard the lock turn, and I moved to the left of the knob, the Glock at my side, out of sight. I hoped to bluff whoever was behind it long enough to get me in the room. When it swung wide, I saw that there would be no bluff.
He wore a Blackhorse jacket just like mine, and recognized immediately I wasn’t part of his crew. He was quick, I’ll give him that. No confusion, no wondering why I had a jacket like his, no suspicious questions about what I was doing. He went straight for the Glock on his hip, trying to get it into play and kill me. I drove my right fist into his throat, causing him to stagger backwards a few steps and collapse to his knees. He struggled with his damaged esophagus and I cleared the remaining space with my own Glock, finding no other threats. I skipped forward and speared my knee into his face, the noise sounding like I had thrown a pumpkin against the wall.
I turned into the room and saw Jennifer and Sweetwater on the floor, their hands tied behind their backs. Sweetwater was crying, a string of snot rolling out of his nose. Jennifer was beaming like she’d just found some old Indian relics. The sight made me grin. Until I saw her swollen eye.
The damage drove a spike of rage into me. I turned to the man on the ground and she shouted, “Pike!”
I looked at her and she said, “Don’t.”
I didn’t. Because that’s what she’d asked.
I untied her first, then went to work on Sweetwater. He was blubbering so hard I almost left him there. By the time I got him free Jennifer had the weapon from the guy on the ground and was at the door, peering out. I wanted to kiss her right there.
She pointed at my jacket and said, “What’s with the storm-trooper thing? You couldn’t figure out another way in?”
I said, “Truck’s right outside. And you have the wrong movie.”
Chapter 10
Sweetwater said, “I’m telling you, that was a piece of an alien spacecraft! That’s what we found out there. That’s what Chris wanted. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret, but I didn’t know he was trying to take it from the federal government.”
I glanced at Jennifer to see what she thought. She stopped tapping on our laptop and glared at him, saying, “They weren’t federal agents, you jackass. I can’t believe you sucked me into a fake dig.”
We’d made it out of the compound without getting shot, thankfully finding out the front gate was operated by a pressure plate on the inside instead of being controlled by a human. We’d driven straight back to our little dump of a motel, listening to Sweetwater spill his guts.
Apparently, the guy named Chris had approached him about stopping the dam construction under the auspices of finding ET’s station wagon, and had paid him a ton of money to use his preservation society to do so. When that had failed, Sweetwater had gone into the archives and grabbed a bunch of old artifacts. He’d spread them out on the riverbank near the construction site, then had brought us in.
Jennifer was as angry as I’d ever seen her, and I was pretty sure it was because her little “real-world” job had turned out to be a chimera, making her look like a fool.
The Blackhorse Tactical guys had kept up the “federal agent” angle, saying that Chris and his minions were actually foreign spies, and that Jennifer and Sweetwater had either stumbled upon a top-secret project as patsies or were in league with the foreign
It didn’t budge.
Damn it.
The shouting stopped.
Time for Indiana Jones.
I knocked.
Nothing happened for a second. I heard a shuffle, then a muffled, “What?”
I said, “Boss wants to talk.”
I was betting that it would be beyond the guy’s imagination that anyone evil could be kicking the door in this secure location. I was right.
I heard the lock turn, and I moved to the left of the knob, the Glock at my side, out of sight. I hoped to bluff whoever was behind it long enough to get me in the room. When it swung wide, I saw that there would be no bluff.
He wore a Blackhorse jacket just like mine, and recognized immediately I wasn’t part of his crew. He was quick, I’ll give him that. No confusion, no wondering why I had a jacket like his, no suspicious questions about what I was doing. He went straight for the Glock on his hip, trying to get it into play and kill me. I drove my right fist into his throat, causing him to stagger backwards a few steps and collapse to his knees. He struggled with his damaged esophagus and I cleared the remaining space with my own Glock, finding no other threats. I skipped forward and speared my knee into his face, the noise sounding like I had thrown a pumpkin against the wall.
I turned into the room and saw Jennifer and Sweetwater on the floor, their hands tied behind their backs. Sweetwater was crying, a string of snot rolling out of his nose. Jennifer was beaming like she’d just found some old Indian relics. The sight made me grin. Until I saw her swollen eye.
The damage drove a spike of rage into me. I turned to the man on the ground and she shouted, “Pike!”
I looked at her and she said, “Don’t.”
I didn’t. Because that’s what she’d asked.
I untied her first, then went to work on Sweetwater. He was blubbering so hard I almost left him there. By the time I got him free Jennifer had the weapon from the guy on the ground and was at the door, peering out. I wanted to kiss her right there.
She pointed at my jacket and said, “What’s with the storm-trooper thing? You couldn’t figure out another way in?”
I said, “Truck’s right outside. And you have the wrong movie.”
Chapter 10
Sweetwater said, “I’m telling you, that was a piece of an alien spacecraft! That’s what we found out there. That’s what Chris wanted. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret, but I didn’t know he was trying to take it from the federal government.”
I glanced at Jennifer to see what she thought. She stopped tapping on our laptop and glared at him, saying, “They weren’t federal agents, you jackass. I can’t believe you sucked me into a fake dig.”
We’d made it out of the compound without getting shot, thankfully finding out the front gate was operated by a pressure plate on the inside instead of being controlled by a human. We’d driven straight back to our little dump of a motel, listening to Sweetwater spill his guts.
Apparently, the guy named Chris had approached him about stopping the dam construction under the auspices of finding ET’s station wagon, and had paid him a ton of money to use his preservation society to do so. When that had failed, Sweetwater had gone into the archives and grabbed a bunch of old artifacts. He’d spread them out on the riverbank near the construction site, then had brought us in.
Jennifer was as angry as I’d ever seen her, and I was pretty sure it was because her little “real-world” job had turned out to be a chimera, making her look like a fool.
The Blackhorse Tactical guys had kept up the “federal agent” angle, saying that Chris and his minions were actually foreign spies, and that Jennifer and Sweetwater had either stumbled upon a top-secret project as patsies or were in league with the foreign
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