Black Mountain

THIRTY-SIX

Captain Robert Graham tried once again to raise his test subjects on the mountain. None of the three men were responding, and one of their lifelines had gone dead on his screen.

‘Shit.’ Graham bit the edge off a fingernail and spat it onto the desk. Those idiots couldn’t be out there forever. The operation needed to be over quickly.

His major concern wasn’t the potential confrontation with Alex Hunter. He had equipped the three soldiers with more than enough capability to accomplish the task. They easily matched the original Arcadian’s strength and speed, and they were three to his one. His worry was the instability of the compound and its effects on the men’s physiology.

The ARC-044 treatments seemed to start a war within the subjects’ bodies. Their increased physical capabilities fired their metabolism to a level far above that of a normal person — basically their recuperative and regenerative powers had to work overtime to keep rebuilding what their own bodies were continually tearing down and consuming in a bid to feed an engine permanently stuck in high gear.

He looked again at the blank screen. He needed to know what was going on, which meant going to see Jack Hammerson. That brick-headed old soldier had kept enough secrets from him.

‘Don’t say a word; that’s an order. This is between me and your boss,’ Graham said, pointing his finger into the face of Annie Fletcher, Hammerson’s personal assistant.

She removed her hand from the phone and narrowed her eyes as Graham opened Hammerson’s office door without knocking.

It was dark in the large room, so Graham left the door ajar a crack. The big viewing screen on the wall was fizzing with white noise. He saw a figure sitting near the desk, its back turned, its head resting on one hand.

‘Hammerson, you must think we’re all stupid,’ Graham burst out. ‘I know the Arcadian is alive and on US soil. Your submission to the Joint Chiefs was a total fabrication.’

He paused; the large figure just sat there, unresponsive.

‘It doesn’t really matter,’ Graham went on, determined to get a reaction. ‘We don’t need him in the field anymore. We’ve reproduced the treatment — Hunter can be retired immediately.’ He took a step closer. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t need him at all. We can work together — you scratch my back, et cetera. General Wozyniak is delighted with my results, but I know the compound’s still a little unstable. I can’t seem to balance the subjects’ metabolisms. Wozyniak might not be so happy if I told him the men could burn themselves out, literally, in a month — not a great return for a hundred million taxpayers’ bucks. Now, if I could take a quick look at Hunter’s hypothalamus…’

Graham reached the seated figure and realised it was too big to be Hammerson. ‘Jack?’

‘He can be retired? You mean fucking terminated.’

An enormous hand shot out and caught Graham’s wrist, then pulled and twisted, bringing Graham to his knees beside what he now saw was a wheelchair. In it sat Lieutenant Sam Reid.

Graham screamed.

Annie Fletcher came to the door, smiled sweetly, and pulled it fully closed.

Sam tugged on Graham’s arm again. ‘You want to kill him, you little weasel? You fucking killed him years ago when you pumped that shit into him! He doesn’t even know if he’s human anymore.’

Graham wailed and banged at Sam’s hand with his fist, but the HAWC just tightened his grip.

‘I’ll see you in chains, Reid,’ Graham yelled.

Sam laughed softly and applied more pressure to the scientist’s thin arm. ‘Haven’t you noticed — I’m already in chains, you asshole. Guess I must be suffering from battlefield trauma — happens to us HAWCs, you know. We can go psycho sometimes, real loony — been known to actually kill people.’ He laughed again. ‘By the way, that reminds me, I’m due for another coffee with my old friend General Wozyniak. Got something real interesting to tell him now. In fact, why don’t I —’

‘I could make you walk again.’

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

Sam let go of Graham’s arm. ‘Fuck off.’

Graham stumbled backwards, then stood up. He rubbed his wrist. Both an idea and an opportunity sprang to his mind. He looked at the huge frame packed into the wheelchair.

‘Not much of a life for a man of action, is it?’

Sam sat motionless again, staring at the fizzing screen.

Graham took a cautious step forward. ‘The Arcadian treatment works, Lieutenant Reid — you know that. But did you know that it can be used to regenerate tissue, bone matter, internal organs… even the nervous tubular bundle of the spinal cord? That part’s easy. Imagine being able to get out of that chair. Imagine being able to run, fight, defend your country again. I could give you all that. I just need —’

Sam jerked his body forward at the scientist. ‘I said fuck off!’

‘Okay, okay.’ Graham backed away, holding his hands in front of him. ‘We’re both a little stressed at the moment. By the way, I saved Hunter’s life when everyone else had given up. I’m not the bad guy, Sam. Remember that.’

The HAWC turned his head away, but Graham knew he’d got to him.

He reached behind his back to touch the door handle. ‘Think about it,’ he said. ‘I helped Alex, and I can help you. You know where to find me.’