Read Online The Final Trade by Joe Hart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joe Hart
Tags: Science-Fiction
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one word for you, cousin. Stalemate.”
The wind coasts across the installation, tossing dust into the air.
One of the men readjusts his grip on his machine gun.
A hawk cries mournfully in the distance.
There is swift whining and a sharp crack that breaks the tensioned silence.
Someone yells a curse and Zoey sees pieces of something fly out of the tower before the man’s rifle tumbles to the ground. A split second later the sound of a shot rebounds off the nearest hills and rolls away like thunder.
Ken’s men are screaming, shouting for orders.
Zoey spots the man in the tower, partially bent over, cradling his hand to his chest.
“Lost your angel,” Merrill says. “Now drop your weapons.”
Ken’s lips peel back from his teeth in a snarl, their yellowness shocking. “Disarm!” he yells after a moment.
“Ken, I—” one of the men says.
“I said, disarm!”
Slowly the men do as he says. They place the weapons on the ground and step away reluctantly.
“Now you,” Merrill says. Ken hesitates then unsnaps the sling from his shoulder and drops the gun to the ground.
“You just made the biggest mistake of your lives,” Ken says, teeth still bared.
“Oh I doubt it,” Merrill says. “I’m sure we’ll make worse ones than this. Now let’s have that talk you wanted.”
7
As she steps inside the largest building, stale heated air rushes past Zoey, a warm exhale.
She glances around the space, gathering her bearings.
The building’s entry used to be partitioned in what looks like a holding cell. The empty door and window frames are solid steel, their glass absent. Through the entry is a wide hall with multiple doors branching from it, most of them open. To the right is an area she assumes used to house another guard station. A long desk covered with strewn papers is flanked by a row of computer monitors, all of them tilted downward at head height.
Her footsteps echo in the empty corridor, a mournful sound. Lonely.
She keeps her finger outside the H&K’s trigger guard but holds the gun tightly at her side, ready to bring it up at a moment’s notice.
“Place is creepy,” Tia says. The other woman steps to her left holding a sawed-off shotgun she’s taken to carrying. They move forward in tandem, weapons covering either side of the hall. Zoey moves into the first open doorway, scans the room. It’s a white box without windows, twenty feet square. The walls are barren except for holes that might’ve been made by screws or bullets. They check all of the rooms on the first floor. Some of them are occupied by old mattresses and body odor, but most are empty. They find a kitchen area at the rear of the building beside a stairwell that leads both up and down, and another short hallway ending in a steel door.
They stop to listen to the silence for a moment. Nothing breaks it.
“Benny said there were seven of them here and a woman,” Zoey says. “We got six plus the guy in the tower. Should be empty except for her.”
“Place is big. We’ll need to split up.”
“We go in twos,” Merrill says, striding up to them. Behind him, Eli, Chelsea, and Rita are ushering the men into the building at gunpoint. Ken is at the front of the group. His sunglasses are gone and his eyes are a deep brown that pin Zoey to the floor. Eli checks one of the first rooms and guides the men inside. Several minutes later he appears, jiggles the doorknob, and comes toward them, holding out a ring of keys.
“Their fearless leader was carrying this. Looks like it’ll open any door in here.”
“Is Ian back yet?” Zoey asks.
“No, but I saw him coming down out of the hills and left the gate open,” Eli says. “That was a hell of a shot. I bet it was almost a thousand yards and he blasted the guy’s rifle right out of his hands. Shrapnel tore his fingers up pretty good.”
“We’ll have Chelsea look at him later,” Merrill says. “First we find the woman they mentioned.”
“Place seems empty. I’d say
The wind coasts across the installation, tossing dust into the air.
One of the men readjusts his grip on his machine gun.
A hawk cries mournfully in the distance.
There is swift whining and a sharp crack that breaks the tensioned silence.
Someone yells a curse and Zoey sees pieces of something fly out of the tower before the man’s rifle tumbles to the ground. A split second later the sound of a shot rebounds off the nearest hills and rolls away like thunder.
Ken’s men are screaming, shouting for orders.
Zoey spots the man in the tower, partially bent over, cradling his hand to his chest.
“Lost your angel,” Merrill says. “Now drop your weapons.”
Ken’s lips peel back from his teeth in a snarl, their yellowness shocking. “Disarm!” he yells after a moment.
“Ken, I—” one of the men says.
“I said, disarm!”
Slowly the men do as he says. They place the weapons on the ground and step away reluctantly.
“Now you,” Merrill says. Ken hesitates then unsnaps the sling from his shoulder and drops the gun to the ground.
“You just made the biggest mistake of your lives,” Ken says, teeth still bared.
“Oh I doubt it,” Merrill says. “I’m sure we’ll make worse ones than this. Now let’s have that talk you wanted.”
7
As she steps inside the largest building, stale heated air rushes past Zoey, a warm exhale.
She glances around the space, gathering her bearings.
The building’s entry used to be partitioned in what looks like a holding cell. The empty door and window frames are solid steel, their glass absent. Through the entry is a wide hall with multiple doors branching from it, most of them open. To the right is an area she assumes used to house another guard station. A long desk covered with strewn papers is flanked by a row of computer monitors, all of them tilted downward at head height.
Her footsteps echo in the empty corridor, a mournful sound. Lonely.
She keeps her finger outside the H&K’s trigger guard but holds the gun tightly at her side, ready to bring it up at a moment’s notice.
“Place is creepy,” Tia says. The other woman steps to her left holding a sawed-off shotgun she’s taken to carrying. They move forward in tandem, weapons covering either side of the hall. Zoey moves into the first open doorway, scans the room. It’s a white box without windows, twenty feet square. The walls are barren except for holes that might’ve been made by screws or bullets. They check all of the rooms on the first floor. Some of them are occupied by old mattresses and body odor, but most are empty. They find a kitchen area at the rear of the building beside a stairwell that leads both up and down, and another short hallway ending in a steel door.
They stop to listen to the silence for a moment. Nothing breaks it.
“Benny said there were seven of them here and a woman,” Zoey says. “We got six plus the guy in the tower. Should be empty except for her.”
“Place is big. We’ll need to split up.”
“We go in twos,” Merrill says, striding up to them. Behind him, Eli, Chelsea, and Rita are ushering the men into the building at gunpoint. Ken is at the front of the group. His sunglasses are gone and his eyes are a deep brown that pin Zoey to the floor. Eli checks one of the first rooms and guides the men inside. Several minutes later he appears, jiggles the doorknob, and comes toward them, holding out a ring of keys.
“Their fearless leader was carrying this. Looks like it’ll open any door in here.”
“Is Ian back yet?” Zoey asks.
“No, but I saw him coming down out of the hills and left the gate open,” Eli says. “That was a hell of a shot. I bet it was almost a thousand yards and he blasted the guy’s rifle right out of his hands. Shrapnel tore his fingers up pretty good.”
“We’ll have Chelsea look at him later,” Merrill says. “First we find the woman they mentioned.”
“Place seems empty. I’d say
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