CHAPTER 18
Staring at the computer screen, John wondered if he should just turn it off. He had been waiting for nearly an hour since he had established contact with the White House. In his experience, being made to wait was never a good sign. He glanced over at Trigger, who was pacing nervously out of sight of the camera’s view. “You sure they can’t trace it?”
His friend shrugged. “Anything’s possible. I doubt it though. I’m bouncing this signal around so many satellites that it’s a wonder you’ll get a clear picture at all.”
Drumming his fingers, John waited impatiently. He felt vulnerable just waiting like this. It didn’t make much sense. He was just about to give up when the screen flickered and a face appeared on the screen. “Stand by for the President,” the voice said, before moving out of view. A moment later another face filled the screen.
“Captain, what the blazes are you doing?” The President’s voice sounded angry. Not a good sign.
“I thought I was doing as you requested, sir. I’ve found a way to sabotage the games.”
“You bloody fool! The only thing you’ve accomplished is making a mess of things!”
“Sir?”
“Do you know what you’ve done? You’re creating worldwide riots with your foolishness. You were sent to observe, not to interfere. I just needed evidence. I didn’t need you to help those stupid kids!”
Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Sylvester’s face pale. Neesha just slumped in her seat, her head falling to her hands. Only Ali seemed unsurprised. John indeed felt like a fool. “Sir, I have evidence that the Ts2 scanners are flawed. This means the games are flawed and unnecessary. We can show the world a better way of dealing with violent offenders. The scan does work, and we can stop a lot of things from happening before they happen, but those caught can change. We don’t need to execute them.”
“You’re a fool, Captain. Don’t you get it? The executions serve more purposes than just ridding the world of a few malcontents. They keep the rest of the population in check. The violence is too widespread to attempt to rehabilitate all of them. We needed to make an example of these kids, and though I don’t approve of the method, I do sanction their deaths! John, you’ve not helped anything except to prove that violent offenders can get away with it.”
“Sir, I think—”
“Shut up! You weren’t sent there to think! I just wanted you to gather evidence I could use against the Mob later. Your interference has cost us. The Mob is threatening to renege on the money. Do you know what that means, Captain? It means you just made our economy even worse! You’ve just condemned millions to hunger and suffering. Where’s your compassion now, Captain? Why didn’t you think about everyone else back here before you decided to go off and play hero?”
John had grown rock still at this tirade. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had been so sure his mission was to sabotage the games. He cursed himself for not getting his orders in writing, but he could hardly believe the level of animosity that was being leveled at him. It seemed totally out of proportion to the act. How could his actions have such a dramatic result on the US economy? Even if it did, his conscious was clean. He had done the right thing, and no one, not even the President, could convince him otherwise.
Steeling his heart and mind, he looked into the angry eyes of his President. “What do you want me to do, sir?”
“You’ve done quite enough, Captain. I’m afraid you leave me no choice. I am branding you a traitor. Your actions are rogue, and you leave me no choice but to deal with you with extreme prejudice.”
“You plan to terminate me?”
“All of you, Captain. You leave me no choice.”
The screen flickered and went black. The uplink had been cut.
Trigger threw up his hands. “Great! They’ll be gunning for me too, I bet!”
John thrust himself away from the table. His mind was racing. “Relax, Trigger. We just need to come up with a new plan.”
“Yeah? Like what? You know what they are going to send our way. They’ll send in a nine-man team. Elite squad. Delta. Seals. We’re dead.”
“No, we aren’t. We’re well trained too, Trigger. We’ve gone up against worst.”
“Yeah? Your memories must be different than mine.”
Neesha looked up, her eyes haunted. “Are they really going to kill us?”
“They’ll try,” John said. “Apparently we have become much more of a liability than I supposed.” Running a hand over his face, John stood abruptly and walked over to the table that displayed their array of weapons. He made a mental check of their remaining ordinance. “Trigger, how much time do you think we have?”
The agitated man stopped moving and thought for a moment. “They’ll be here no later than tonight. Hold on.” He walked back over to the computer and touched the screen. A new window opened, a map of the Island. “They don’t know where we are exactly, but they must have figured out that we are in the few places where none of their cameras are.” He pointed to the screen. “That leaves only three locations. Here, the village, and the region to the east of the Island—the point closest to the oil platform off shore.”
“Can you take down the cameras? It would give us a lot more maneuvering room.”
The ex-military soldier tapped his chin in thought. “Perhaps. The cameras are on a wireless network with limited broadcasting range. This means they need a more powerful communications array to broadcast a strong enough signal to the satellites. Take out that array and the network will essentially be shut down.”
John nodded. “Where would it be?”
“My guess? The oil platform.”
“That hardly does us any good.”
“Even if you did destroy it, the kill squad could tap into the frequency and use them as eyes and ears all over the Island. Remember? We used to deploy a surveillance grid like that before going into a hot zone.”
John considered. “You think they will just use the network already in place?”
“I would. It could take up to a week to establish a new one.”
“What about hijacking the network to send false information through?”
“That might work. We’ve got enough video of the kids traipsing around the jungle that I could conceivably mislead them for a short time.”
“It would be our best shot at whittling down the numbers some.”
Trigger’s face looked solemn. “Are you really okay with this? These are Americans coming after us. We will be killing our own.”
Those words struck John like physical blows. He closed his eyes and backed up a step until his feet came into contact with a bench. He sat down heavily. “What are we supposed to be fighting for, Trigger? Is it a certain people? Or is it something else? Do we fight for a way of life, a set of values, an idea?”
“I can’t answer that question for you, my friend. I left service because I couldn’t stomach what our government was asking of us. I couldn’t take it anymore. If we aren’t fighting for a way of life—some sort of morality and values—we fight for nothing.”
John nodded slowly. “It is what I feared.” He looked steadily at his friend. “I can do this.”
“We’re both going to die, you know.”
“Sorry, Trigger. I hadn’t planned on getting you involved.”
Trigger just turned away muttering to himself. John turned towards his three charges.
“Here’s the deal,” he said softly. “The President is going to use the kill squad to end this game. They won’t stop until all of us are dead.”
“What if we kill them first?” Ali asked, his voice breaking somewhat.
“They’ll just send in another squad. To win, we need to do more than just survive. We need to take control of this game. Own it. We need to rob it of wealth.”
The three youths glanced at each other in confusion. Neesha spoke up, “How do we do that?”
Trigger pivoted on his stool, his eyes seeking John’s sharply. “Why, you sly devil, you. You
always did have a sadistic streak in you.”
“Thank you.”
“What do you mean?” Ali asked. “I don’t get it.”
John grinned. “Gather around. I’ll explain it to you. We need to convince the world that the US government and the Mob have conspired together to cheat. Once everyone thinks the games were always rigged, they’ll go berserk.”
Eagerly, they huddled together as John explained his plan. He had to admit, it had elegance, but he gave their odds of survival to be very low. He mentally shrugged the notion off. It was their only shot.