Paradise Burns (29 page)
SIXTY-SEVEN
I rolled over
onto my back and closed my eyes. I wanted to take a nice, deep, relaxing
breath, but I was in far too much pain for such luxuries.
God, I felt like I'd been stabbed in the
stomach or something.
Oh, wait.
I propped myself up on my elbows and
looked down at the wound.
I huffed dismissively. I'd had worse.
I rolled onto my side and pushed myself
up into a sitting position. I hugged my knees to my chest and sat, squinting in
the afternoon sun, listening to the eerie silence that had descended on the
compound.
What a day.
I looked over my shoulder and saw
Ketranovich lay on the ground, not moving. I breathed a sigh of relief.
That was a good sign at least.
I reached for my gun, then slowly and
painfully made my way to my feet. I staggered over to his body, one hand
clutching my stomach. I needed to be sure he was dead. And Dark Rain along with
him.
I approached him and tapped his leg with
my foot. There was no movement. I raised my gun and aimed at his head, then
fired three times. His skull all but disappeared, dissolving into a dark red
puddle on the sand, which slowly expanded around him.
Better safe than sorry.
I looked around and quickly found the
detonator. I holstered my gun and picked it up. I looked behind me, back to the
main gate. No sign of the cavalry just yet. Sadly, there was no sign of Clara
either. I had a bullet with her fucking name on it.
I held the detonator in my hand,
regarding it for a moment. Hard to believe that such a small device could
control such devastating power. I put it in my pocket, then took out my phone
and called Josh.
'Adrian, thank God!' he said as he answered.
'You alright?'
'Yeah, I'm good,' I said, wincing in
pain as I walked. 'It’s all over. Ketranovich is dead and I have the detonator.
I just wish I could’ve stopped them shooting down the airstrike.'
'Adrian, don't blame yourself for that,
okay? It was a tragedy, but forget about it now - it'll be handled by all those
government folks. You’ve done enough. I’m just glad you’re alive.'
'Me too. I just wanna get out of here,
Josh. I need a vacation.'
'I'll book the flights right now, Boss,'
he said, laughing. But his tone soon changed. 'What happened to Clara?'
I'd looked around again, but there was no
sign of her anywhere. Her motorcycle was still there, resting on its side from
earlier. The hangar door was still open. I wanted so badly to go after her and put
a bullet right between her eyes. But my energy was being spent simply trying to
stay conscious.
'No idea,' I said. 'She disappeared while
I was fighting Ketranovich. I don't know if she's still on site or not, and to
be honest, right now, I don't really care. If she's alive, I'll find her and
kill her. But not now.'
'That's the smartest thing you've said
all week,' said Josh, laughing once more. 'Get outta there, Adrian.'
I looked over at Clara's motorcycle once
more.
'Way ahead of you, my friend.'
I hung up and walked over to the bike.
Taking one final look around, to make sure Clara wasn't laying in wait and
planning to shoot me or anything, I used what strength I had left to lift the
motorcycle up and climb on. I started it up, took one last look at Ketranovich,
then sped off across the courtyard, through the main gate and out onto the
desert track.
It'd been a long time since I'd ridden
one of these things. But like the saying goes, it's not something you forget.
I blasted down the track, past the warning
sign about the compound, and headed for the main highway. After a couple of
miles, I spotted the first helicopter in the air. Quickly followed by two more.
Ahead of me, I could see a convoy of vehicles speeding towards me, leaving a
thin trail of dust behind them in the distance.
The helicopters approached and hovered
above me as I turned off the track and hit the highway. I immediately slowed
down, then eventually stopped. I sat with the engine idling, one foot on the
ground, my arms folded across my chest. My right hand was resting on top of my
stab wound. The convoy came up on me a minute later and came to a stop.
As the truck in front stopped, the
passenger door opened and Robert Clark jumped out and walked over. He was
wearing a dark gray suit with the jacket open, flapping in the wind.
'I took your advice and stayed out of
your way, he said, shouting a little over the noise of the helicopters
overhead. 'Definitely one of the better decisions I’ve made in the last few
days. You’re a very resourceful individual, do you know that?'
He was smiling. I still didn’t
completely trust the guy, but I’ll concede that I was starting to like him.
'I just don’t like people who go out of
their way to do bad things,’ I shouted back.
I gestured to the troops behind him with
a small nod as he stopped next to me.
'Impressive,' I said.
'They're not all mine,' he shrugged, humbly.
'Most of the men here are Army. But I've got fifty of my best guys watching our
backs.'
'You're late for the party. I've already
had all the fun.'
'We mobilized as fast as we could. It
was a short-notice joint operation, and not the easiest thing to arrange,
unfortunately.'
He gestured to my stomach.
'You alright?' he asked. 'You look like
shit.'
'Thanks. I got stabbed a little bit, but
I'll be fine. It's all over, Bob.'
'So I heard. Your British friend is one
hell of an asset, Adrian. You're lucky I don't try and poach him from you.'
He laughed at his comment, which was
probably half serious. I simply smiled.
'You can't afford him,' I said.
He smiled back.
'Fair enough. Can you tell us anything
about Dark Rain's operation?'
I shrugged.
'Not much to tell, really. Despite what
Clara told us, it was mostly smoke and mirrors, combined with some very clever
bullshit. But their hardware was top notch... Well done for funding all that,
by the way.'
Clark held his hands up in resignation,
acknowledging my sarcasm.
'Hey, you're preaching to the choir
about that,' he said. 'I'm
still
trying to clear up the shit-storm that
Jackson left me.'
We fell silent for a moment. I looked at
Clark as he scanned the horizon all around, looking across the vast expanse of
unforgiving desert, as I had done on occasion this past week.
He looked back at me.
'So, where you heading?' he asked.
I shrugged.
'I have no idea,' I said, quite
honestly. 'Away from
here
.'
He nodded to my stomach wound.
'Please tell me you're going to a
hospital first?'
'Why, Bob, I never knew you cared.'
He smiled.
'I don't, I just want you to move so I
can get these guys to that compound and clean up the mess you've made.'
We both laughed.
'Take care, Adrian. We're going to gut
that place and gather everything we can on Dark Rain.'
He turned to walk away, but looked back.
'I'll let you know if we turn anything
up about Clara, okay?' he said.
I smiled, but said nothing. He then
walked off back to his truck.
I sat there and thought about everything
Dark Rain had done. Everything they’d put me through. All the times I’d come
close to death. I even thought of all the members of Dark Rain that Ketranovich
used, lied to and killed in the name of his pathetic little cause. Then I
thought of all the innocent people who had been caught in the crossfire. The
pilots of those F-22s who I couldn’t save. Then I realized that every single
shred of data relating to Dark Rain was in that old military base. They didn’t
exist anywhere else in the world, except in that goddamned compound.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out
the detonator, looking at it in my hand for a moment. Ultimately, there wasn't
anything to think about. I knew what needed to be done.
'Bob,' I shouted after him.
He stopped at the side of the truck, one
hand on the door and looked over. I held the detonator in my hand, held high in
the air for him to see.
'I can't let you go in there. I'm
sorry.'
'What do you mean?' he shouted back, the
panic clear in his voice. 'What are you doing?'
'After everything they’ve done, I’m not
interested in their assets or their secrets. I want them erased from history.
It’s the very least Ketranovich deserves – his legacy to disappear in smoke and
flames.'
Realizing what I was going to do, he set
off running toward me, his right arm outstretched in a futile attempt to reach
for something he was nowhere near.
'Adrian, no!'
But he wasn’t going to stop me. No-one
was. I thought of Clara, hoping she was still in the compound. Finally, I
pictured Ketranovich, lying dead on the floor, beaten. And with that image in
my mind, I squeezed the trigger.
I was sat on a
worn, brown leather stool, resting on the bar of a small little place in
Colorado Springs. I was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, with my brown boots.
My shoulder bag was by my feet, resting on the bar stool. In front of me, there
was an ice cold bottle of Budweiser and a shot of whiskey.
The bar wasn’t exactly busy, there were
just small groups of two or three people dotted around the place. The bar had
the obligatory pool table in the corner, with three low lights hanging above
it. There was a jukebox attached to the back wall, next to where a door led you
into the back where the restrooms were.
I took a long drink of my beer. It had
been over three weeks since I’d left Heaven’s Valley. I was in a hospital for
three days, courtesy of GlobaTech. My knife wound didn’t cause any permanent
damage. The blood I lost caused the most trouble, and it didn’t take long to
recover from that. GlobaTech spared no expense on my medical treatment, which
was nice of them. Robert Clark was pretty pissed at me for pressing the button
and destroying Dark Rain’s military base though.
Well, destroyed doesn’t sufficiently
describe what happened to that compound. Every square inch was completely
obliterated, and there was a crater left that was a quarter of a mile wide and
about the same deep. I’d spoken to Josh when I got out of hospital and he said
he saw the explosion via the satellite feed he was linked into. He said it was
one of the most spectacular things he’d ever witnessed.
I have no idea whether or not Clara was
in there when it blew up. I know the bodies of Ketranovich and the two Salikovs
were. Three out of four isn’t bad, I guess.
Dark Rain has been reduced to dust and
myth. Pellaggio is dead and buried. The uranium mine is now protected by the
government, and despite recent events, I can now count one of the biggest
military contractors in the country as an ally.
Aside from the uncertainty around Clara,
I’d say I’ve come out of that in a pretty good position.
Since I’d left the hospital, I'd taken
the first Greyhound bus out of Heaven’s Valley. I’d told Josh to leave me be
for a week or two. I needed the rest and the peace and quiet. I’d made my way
down through Phoenix before heading over to Colorado Springs, where I’ve been
for the last four days. It’s a nice place. Been here almost a week and no-one’s
tried to kill me.
I got up and walked over to the jukebox
and fed some change into it. As I was choosing some songs, my phone rang - it
was Josh.
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘You alright?’
‘I’m doing fine, Boss,’ he said. ‘You
all rested up?’
‘I’m getting there. Just enjoying the
downtime to be honest. How’s things been with you?’
‘Not too bad. I've been speaking with
Clark on and off since you left town. Figured it can’t hurt to keep in touch
and maybe whore ourselves out to them every now and then?'
I walked back to my stool and sat down,
smiling.
‘No, I guess not.’
‘Other than that, I’ve got a few jobs
which you can look at whenever you’re ready to get back to it.’
‘Maybe in a few days. Listen, has there
been any...’ I stopped mid-sentence. ‘Never mind.’
‘Any sign of Clara?’ he offered.
‘Yeah. Anything at all?’
‘Nothing. But she’ll forever be on our
own little Most Wanted list.’
‘You better believe it.’
My music began playing in the
background. I’d started off with something mellow.
‘Is that "Carry On, Wayward
Son" by Kansas I can hear in the background?’ asked Josh.
‘Certainly is, my friend.’
‘Then I shall leave you to enjoy what I
imagine to be a bottle of Bud and a shot of whiskey in peace.’
I laughed.
‘There’s a lot to be said for predictability.’
‘Take care, Boss.’
He hung up, leaving me to my bar stool,
my drink and my music. I sat down, took another drink of my beer and signaled
to the barman to open me another.
I figured I’d have another couple here,
head to a motel for some sleep and move on in the morning.
After a few minutes, my second song came
on. I went for something a little heavier with this one. "Cowboys From Hell"
by Pantera. One of my favorites. It has one of the best introductions I’ve ever
heard. I drank my whiskey as the first verse began.
After a moment, a man appeared at the
side of me and called the barman over. He was quite a tall, broad guy. He had
an unkempt beard and long hair. He was wearing a red, checked shirt and jeans.
‘Hey, which asshole put this crap on the
jukebox?’ he said to the barman.
The barman looked very uneasy, and his
eyes betrayed him by flicking over to me. The guy turned and looked at me.
I didn’t bother looking at him.
‘This is a nice, peaceful bar, asshole.
We don’t appreciate devil music blasting out disturbing folks,’ he said.
I turned my head to look at him.
‘We?’
He nodded to the corner of the bar. I
looked over my right shoulder to his table, where I saw two more guys, of
similar build and wearing similar clothes, stood up.
I sighed. It was a loud, long sigh.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a
twenty dollar bill and threw it onto the bar at the barman.
'That's for the drinks,' I said, as I
got off my stool. 'I might owe you some more in a minute for the damage.'
I turned to
face the guy in the red, checked shirt.
My name is
Adrian Hell.
Welcome to my life.