Pulse

TWENTY- FIVE

Edinburgh looked insignificant from the top of the island's volcano. After hastily setting up camp within the short-treed forest of Tristan da Cunha, Knight and Rook had climbed the steep grade to a point a few hundred feet below the volcano's crater, leaving Bishop behind to man the camp. They worked their way around the craggy slope to a point that afforded them clear views of both the small town and the much larger Beta Incorporated facility.

Rook peered through a pair of 140x night vision zoom binoculars, taking in the quiet town while Knight checked out the well-lit Beta compound through the lens of his new pride and joy. The XM109 semiautomatic sniper rifle had been waiting for him on the Crescent when they boarded. Though the weapon was officially still in development by the Barrett Firearms Company, Deep Blue had managed to get him the most up-to-date version. It seemed only fair that the Chess Team start using weapons as advanced as their enemies. The XM109 fired 25mm-caliber rounds capable of piercing armor and disabling light vehicles with a single shot. If fired against a flesh-and-blood target, little would remain.

Head shots were a thing of the past with this weapon. Few vehicles short of an Ml Abrams tank could stand up to it. Not even a regenerative capy-bara.

"See anything interesting?" Rook asked.

"Minimal guards patrolling the outside. I've counted seven, armed with some kind of rifle I've never seen before."

Rook shifted his view to the facility and found a guard walking along the outer wall's catwalk. "Looks like more of the Metal Storms King described. Three barrels." He lowered the binoculars. "You notice the way that place is built?"

Knight nodded. "Like a prison."

"Yeah. I first thought the walls were to keep people out, but I'm starting to think they're for keeping people in. Now why would that be?"

Rook resumed watching the town. He'd watched a few people entering and exiting homes, walking the few streets, and hanging laundry in their backyards, but little else. The only place of constant action was a small well-lit building he'd seen King and Queen enter twenty minutes ago.

"How's Grandma Knight, these days?" he asked.

Without taking his eye away from the sniper scope, Knight said, "She doesn't know who I am anymore. Thinks I'm her uncle when I visit."

"That bad, huh? Sorry, man."

He shrugged. "That's life. Old age. You know? There isn't much I can do besides accept it."

"Still… she's all you got left."

"I've got the ladies lining up, man. There will be little Knights running around before you know it."

"You horny rabbit. I didn't know you wanted kids." "Who doesn't? You don't?" "S'pose it would have to be with the right lady." "Got a lady in mind?"

Rook paused, holding his breath. "I've got Queen… and King. Exiting the building."

Knight shifted his view and found them walking toward the dock. Their casual walk told him they hadn't found trouble. That was good news. But their pace also told him they hadn't discovered anything to make them walk fast. That was bad news.

They watched King and Queen return to the catamaran. Moments later, King's voice filled their ears. "Knight, do you copy?" "I'm here, boss," he replied.

"The townies are a bust on intel. Most work at the facility doing menial labor. Janitors, food services, things like that. I doubt a single one of them has any inkling as to what's going on in there. Queen will be going in for a look. What can we expect?"

"Seven guards outside with Metal Storm rifles. The outer wall is taller than it looked in the satellite imagery, but she shouldn't have a problem getting in."

"Why's that?"

"The guards aren't watching the perimeter. They're watching the building. King, there is something nasty in there they don't want getting out."

"Copy that," King said. "Just watch her back."

"You've got incoming," Rook said suddenly. He watched as a lone man snuck his way between buildings and ran across streets with his head ducked down. "Queen better move out."

"Copy that."

Rook watched as Queen, now dressed in black leaped from the catamaran and disappeared into the dark, invisible to all but Rook's night vision binoculars. "She's clear. You've got a single man headed your way. On the dock now. Looks old, maybe. Long beard."

"An old friend," King said. "No worries. Out."

A click signified that King had switched off his radio. Rook watched as the man approached. King climbed onto the dock and reached out his hand for a friendly handshake, but stopped short. "Oh, hell," Rook said.

Knight took aim with his sniper scope and found King, hands in the air, gun in his face. As Knight turned off his rifle's safety and took aim on the back of the man's head, Rook kept both men in view. King glanced up toward the volcano, almost looking directly at them and shook his head slightly. The message was clear.

"King is shaking his head. Hold your fire," Rook whispered, knowing how close his partner was to reducing the man to a puddle of chum. "Let's see how this plays out."