As they entered, one ran through a pool of blood emanating from a soldier who lay dead with her throat cut. Taylor stepped over and knelt down to take a closer look. As he did, he spotted another body with a blade embedded in the eye socket.
“What the hell happened here?” asked one of the soldiers.
“We have a traitor among us, an enemy agent. Get to the research labs, and secure Rossi and her staff. I’m heading for the cells.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
Taylor stepped over to the other body and was glad to find a pistol still holstered. He grabbed it and the two spare magazines on the fallen soldier’s belt before carrying on down the corridor. Civilian staff members were running past in fear and pointing the way he was going to tell him where the attacker was.
How quickly things can go to shit, he thought to himself.
He carried on with nothing more than the sidearm he had recovered. When he arrived at the cellblock, he found another dead guard and a trail of blood going through the open doorway to the cells. The fallen guard had been shot this time, in what was clearly becoming a hastier situation.
Taylor's instincts had quickly cut in, but he was still rolling it all over in his head and trying to make certain he was right about the scenario. He stepped through the doorway, hoping to find nothing but knowing he would. He knew all but one of the cells were empty, so he headed directly for Armand, but as he turned the bend to get to the cell door, he found Jones helping the former Councillor to escape.
Armand had to hop and be dragged because the damage to his kneecap was substantial. It meant they were making little progress.
"Stop!" Taylor ordered.
He had the pistol raised high and could see Jones was armed just the same; BDUs and a pistol he'd picked up from a body. Jones snapped around and fired two shots. The first went wide, but the second would have met its target had Taylor not leapt back behind the corner where he’d come from. Mitch took in a deep breath, realising how naked he felt without his armour. It had saved his life more times than he could count, and now a single shot could end his life.
"I know who you are, Jones!" Taylor shouted.
It seemed strange to call him that, but he couldn't think of what else to say. This seemed like all the evidence needed to know this Jones was a Krys agent, but he still wanted to hear it from his lips to know for sure.
"Then why didn't you shoot me?"
"To give you a chance to surrender. Lay down your weapon and give yourself up!"
"Why, so I can be a lab rat like Armand here?"
"That or I put a bullet between your eyes."
He went silent for a moment and thought about it.
"You couldn't kill me, your oldest living friend."
"But you’re aren't him, you just look like him."
"You've lost this war, Colonel Mitch Taylor. You've won a few battles, but you could never win the war. This planet is infiltrated beyond your understanding, and it'll fall around you in a flash."
"Yeah, well, we'll see about that. I can't let you take Armand, and he isn't fit enough to run, so what'll it be?"
There was silence for an uncomfortable ten seconds where all Taylor could hear was the alarm still ringing in his ears. He dared not sneak a peek around the corner. He knew how good a shot Jones was. Finally Jones replied.
"If I can't have Armand, neither can you."
As he said it, a small explosion erupted nearby from beyond Jones' position. It was too coincidental to not be Jones who was the cause. He cautiously looked around the corner, and Jones was gone. A man-sized hole had been punched in a wall at the end of the corridor, and Armand's body lay lifelessly between him and the breach.
At first he couldn't understand why Jones had left his fellow Krys agent behind, but as he closed the distance, he understood. Blood spewed out over the floor where Armand had been decapitated. His head was gone; containing the only evidence they had uncovered which identified Krys agents.
"Shit!"
He rushed to the breach in the wall and passed through without any care for his own life. He knew that evidence was more important than anything on the entire base. A trail of blood spots continued on up another corridor that he quickly followed. Two gunshots rang out in the distance, and he already knew that would be another friendly down.
What is this shit? Friends are enemy agents. This could end us.
He carried on and found the body of one of the French guards, just as he suspected. The man was still breathing but couldn't move.
"Where does this lead to?" asked Taylor impatiently. "Where is he heading?"
The soldier could barely breathe or speak, but just about summed up enough energy to point onwards and mumble the word 'hangar'.
Fuck, he's gonna try and fly out of here.
He knew the chances of him making it across the border were slim, but if they were shot down en route, all evidence of them would be destroyed anyway. Taylor knew if they got airborne it was a ‘win win’ for the Krys. He picked up the pace and stormed down the corridor, without a care for anything in the world except for stopping Jones. He knew at any moment he could be ambushed but took no caution at all. He could not afford to.
The corridor opened up ahead of him as the Frenchman had said. He burst out into a small hangar that stored just three small craft; highly agile and fast hexrotor transports with power turbines derived from alien technology. They seated half a dozen at the most, and Taylor realised they must have been there for rapid evac of VIPs. A fact that might get them over the border, free and clear.
The engines were already fired up and the massive blast doors in front of them sliding apart. Taylor had just twenty seconds before he'd lose them for good. He looked to the cockpit and could see Jones looking down at him with a triumphant smile. It was bizarre and incongruous to be coming from a man he'd considered his closest friend for so many years. He had to keep telling himself that it was not Jones.
Taylor raised his pistol and fired two shots at the glass, but both bounced off with no damage. He quickly turned his attention to one of the turbine engines and fired two shots through, but they ricocheted off as well. He looked around for anything that could make a difference and saw the mechanics tool rack. He grabbed the largest wrench he could and launched it into the turbine. It crunched and bounced around inside the engine before being tossed out the back to little effect.
He looked out to see the doors were almost open. There were just a few seconds left. Then to his side he noticed huge chains hanging from a hoist, presumably designed for lifting large component parts. He grabbed one of the chains and rushed to the craft. The hoist swung over on its mountings overhead, and as Jones upped the power to move, Taylor launched the chain into the turbine. As it struck the fan, a huge piece of metal flew from the engine and narrowly missed Taylor's head. He recoiled back and fell to the floor.
He watched in amazement as the thick chain was pulled through the engine until it went taut and ripped the hoist from the ceiling. The huge electronic pulley system crashed down onto the turbine, crushing it in one and ripping part of the fuselage off the craft as it did so.
The turbine caught fire for a moment. The aircraft's emergency systems cut in, and all power was reduced, and the fires put out by its inbuilt extinguishers. The noise finally died down, and Taylor could see the craft was beached and utterly useless. Jones still glared at him from the cockpit. He had no choice now but to confront Taylor personally.
"Only way out is through me, you son of a bitch!" yelled Taylor.