“So you joined Riley’s crew.”
“Basically.”
They turned another corner and walked in silence for a while. Keo was thinking the hallway was never going to end until it finally did.
“Here we are,” James said.
“Here?”
“What, you expected Fort Knox?”
“I guess not,” he said.
Keo exchanged a brief nod with the two guys in tactical vests cradling rifles and standing guard in front of a door. There was nothing to indicate there was an armory behind them. The guards stepped aside, and James stuck a key into a padlock and pulled the door open. Keo followed the young man inside.
The armory was a converted storage closet and wasn’t mind-blowingly impressive, but it had a decent selection and there was a lot of everything, more than enough to arm everyone on the rig (including the kids) five to six times over. He wasn’t too surprised by the surplus since guns were easy to find if you knew where to look, and Mercer struck him as the type who would know.
A light bulb flickered on above him while Keo looked over his choices. Racks along the walls held automatic rifles and shotguns and shelves housed handguns and ammo while spare gun belts hung from hooks.
“This everything?” Keo asked.
“What, you want more?” James said.
“I was hoping for a little variety.”
“Like what?”
“You don’t happen to have an MP5SD lying around, would you?”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Heckler & Koch submachine gun.”
“Uh, no. What you see is what you get. Sorry.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess,” Keo said, and grabbed a Sig Sauer P250 and an M4 off the rack. “Silver bullets?”
“For what?”
“Ghouls.”
James shook his head. “Not here. Would be nice, though, right?”
“But you know about them?”
“Of course we do. We found out even before Lara sent out her first broadcast. Mercer figured it out.”
“So why don’t you have silver bullets?”
“Dude, we’re in the middle of the ocean. What do we need silver bullets for all the way out here?”
Because you might not always be in the middle of the ocean, Keo thought, but decided arguing with James was pointless and turned his attention back to the rifle instead. “This thing come with any accessories?”
“What are you thinking?”
“Maybe something that goes boom, for instance.”
“Hold that thought.” James crouched next to one of the shelves and rummaged through the ammo cans and boxes before straightening up with something in his hand. “This do?”
Keo took the M203, a grenade launcher that could be attached to the bottom of his carbine. “I need you to do something else for me…”
“You want a bazooka, too?”
“If you got it. If not, just tell Hart I need to speak to him.”
“What about?”
“Erin,” Keo said.
He showered in one of the unused crew quarters and didn’t bother to look at himself in the fogged-up mirror when he walked past it. The long scar along his cheek tingled after the hot spray, but his nose and most of his face felt better even though he was pretty sure he looked like a big red mess of bruises.
At least you’re still alive, pal. That means you can still pop Mercer. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to do that with the M203 from a distance.
Lucky, he thought, and couldn’t help but smile to himself. After all he had been through, just thinking that he might get lucky was almost worth a long laugh.
He had black clothes laid out on the small bed, with the rifle he’d taken from the armory leaning against the wall nearby. Keo hadn’t loaded up on weapons because more guns and ammo weren’t going to help him get on Black Tide any easier. Once he accessed the island, he could always acquire more firepower if he needed it.
He had put on the black cargo pants and was pulling on a T-shirt when someone knocked on his door.
“Yeah?” he called.
“It’s me,” a voice said.
“Give me a minute.”
“I’ll wait outside.”
Keo grabbed the gun belt and slipped it on, then picked up the Sig Sauer P250 from the chair nearby and holstered it. He shoved his feet into fresh new socks and boots and left the rifle behind.
At the door, he looked out at James, waiting outside. “Hart’s ready for you,” the younger man said.
“What about Erin?”
“She’s waiting, too.”
Keo nodded and closed the door behind him, then followed James for the second time through the oil rig’s long hallways.
“You think she’ll do it?” James asked.
“I won’t know until I ask,” Keo said. “How well do you know her?”
“There were a lot of people on Black Tide, and we never really crossed paths because of our jobs. Also, she’s higher up than me.”
“I thought you guys don’t use ranks.”
“You don’t need ranks to know who’s out of your league. The people Mercer trusts the most he puts in positions of leadership.”
“Like Riley?”
“I guess even Mercer makes mistakes.”
I’m counting on that.
They entered into the stairwell and made their way up, footsteps clanging against the metal steps.
“You’re really going to do it, huh?” James asked. “Kill Mercer.”
“That’s the plan.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Nothing ever is.”
James pushed through another metal door and led Keo out of the stairwell and into another brightly lit hallway.
“It’s going to be tough,” James said. “Getting on Black Tide is one thing, but getting to Mercer… That’s not going to be easy.”
“That seems to be the going consensus.”
“When I told Faith about what you were planning, she wanted to know if you were crazy.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I wasn’t sure.”
Keo grinned.
As they walked some more, he could sense the kid was holding something back, so he said, “What is it?”
James hesitated, but finally said, “Truth is, I don’t know whether to wish you good luck or not. I mean, what we’re doing here, we’re betraying Mercer’s trust, I know, throwing everything he did for us right back in his face, but still…”
“He saved your life,” Keo said.
“Yeah, he did. Faith’s, too. Everyone’s. If it weren’t for him in the early days, we wouldn’t be here. We owe him everything. In a lot of ways, he’s a good man. Maybe even a great man.”
“Those pregnant civilians he’s murdering out there would disagree with you.”
“I know, I know. Believe me, I know. We all know, that’s why we’re here.” The young man shook his head. “Having said all that, I still don’t know whether to wish you good luck or not. Sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it, kid.”
“I’m twenty-three,” James said.
“Good for you,” Keo said.
“I should have let Troy kill you,” Erin said.
Keo smiled at her. “You said that already.”
“It bears repeating.”
“Why don’t you say it one more time so we can put it to bed?”
“I should have let Troy kill you.”
“Happy?”
“No.”
“It’ll have to do.” Keo looked over at Hart, standing on the other side of the open door. “Can we have some alone time?”
“You sure?” the older man asked. He looked exhausted, and sweat matted his hair to his forehead.