As the truck in front pulls over, the passenger door opens; Robert Clark jumps out and walks over. He’s wearing a dark gray suit with the jacket open, flapping in the wind.
“I took your advice and stayed out of your way,” he says, shouting above the noise of the choppers overhead. “Definitely one of the better decisions I’ve made in the last few days. You’re a very resourceful individual, do you know that?”
He’s smiling. I still don’t completely trust the guy, but I’ll concede that I’m starting to like him.
“I just don’t like people who go out of their way to do bad things,” I shout back.
I gesture to the troops behind him with a small nod as he stops next to me.
“Impressive,” I say.
“They're not all mine,” he shrugs, humbly. “Most of the men here are Army. But I've got a hundred and fifty of my best guys watching our backs.”
“You're late for the party. I've already had all the fun.”
“We mobilized as fast as we could. It was a short-notice joint operation, and not the easiest thing to arrange, unfortunately.”
He gestures to my stomach. “You alright?” he asks. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. I got stabbed a little bit, but I'll be fine. It's all over, Bob.”
“So I heard. Your British friend is one hell of an asset, Adrian. You're lucky I don't try to poach him from you.”
He laughs at his comment, which was probably half-serious. I simply smile.
“You can't afford him,” I say.
He smiles back. “Fair enough. Can you give us any information about Dark Rain's operation?”
I shrug. “Not much to tell, really. Despite what Clara told us, it was mostly smoke and mirrors, combined with some very clever bullshit. But their hardware was top-notch… Well done funding all that, by the way.”
Clark holds his hands up in resignation, acknowledging my sarcasm.
“Hey, you're preaching to the choir about that,” he says. “I'm still trying to clear up the shit-storm that Jackson left me.”
We fall silent for a moment. I look at Clark as he scans the horizons all around, looking across the vast expanse of unforgiving desert, as I had done on occasion this past week.
He looks back at me. “So, where you heading?” he asks.
I shrug. “I have no idea,” I say, quite honestly. “Away from here.”
He nods to my stomach wound. “Please tell me you're going to a hospital first?”
“Why, Bob, I never knew you cared.”
He smiles. “I don't, I just want you to move so I can get these guys into that compound and clean up the mess you've made.”
We both laugh.
“Take care, Adrian. We're going to gut that place and gather everything we can on Dark Rain.”
He turns to walk away, but looks back. “I'll let you know if we turn anything up about Clara, okay?” he says.
I smile, but say nothing. He walks off back to his truck.
I sit there for a moment and think about everything Dark Rain has done. Everything they put me through. All the times I’d come close to death. I even thought of all the members of Dark Rain that Ketranovich had used, lied to, and killed in the name of his pathetic little cause. Then I think of all the innocent people who were caught in the crossfire. The pilots of those F-22s that I couldn’t save…
I realize that every single shred of data on Dark Rain is inside that old military base. They don’t exist anywhere else in the world, except on the outskirts of Heaven’s Valley.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the detonator, looking at it in my hand for a moment. There’s nothing to think about. I know what I need to do. I know what’s right.
“Bob,” I shout after him.
He stops at the side of the truck, one hand on the door and looks over. I hold the detonator in my hand high in the air for him to see.
“I can't let you go in there. I'm sorry.”
“What do you mean?” he shouts back, the panic clear in his voice. “What are you doing?”
“After everything they’ve done, I’m not interested in their assets or their secrets. I want them erased from history. It’s the very least Ketranovich deserves — his legacy to disappear in smoke.”
Realizing what I’m going to do, he sets off running toward me, his right arm outstretched in a futile attempt to reach for something he’s nowhere near.
“Adrian, no!”
But he isn’t going to stop me. No one is. I think of Clara, hoping she’s still in the compound somewhere. I think of Natalia, who I know is still in there. Finally, I picture Ketranovich, lying dead on the floor, beaten.
With that image in my mind, I squeeze the trigger.
33
I’m sitting on a worn, brown leather stool, resting on the bar of a small little place in Colorado Springs. I’m wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, with my brown boots. My shoulder bag is by my feet, resting against the bar stool. In front of me is an ice-cold bottle of Budweiser and next to that, a shot of whiskey.
The bar isn’t exactly busy. There are a few small groups of two or three people dotted around the place. The bar has the obligatory pool table in the corner, with three low lights hanging above it. There’s a jukebox attached to the back wall, next to a door that leads to the back where the restrooms are.
I take a long drink of my beer. It’s been over three weeks since I left Heaven’s Valley. I was in a hospital for three days, courtesy of GlobaTech. My knife wound didn’t cause any permanent damage. The blood I’d lost had caused the most trouble, and it didn’t take long to recover from that. GlobaTech spared no expense on my medical treatment, which was nice of them. Robert Clark was pretty pissed at me for pressing the button and destroying Dark Rain’s military base though.
Well, destroyed doesn’t sufficiently describe what happened to that compound. Every square inch was completely obliterated, and there’s now a crater there a quarter of a mile wide and about the same deep. I’d spoken to Josh when I got out of hospital and he said he saw the explosion via the satellite feed he’d linked into. He said it was one of the most spectacular things he’d ever seen.
I still have no idea whether Clara was in there when it blew up. I know the bodies of Ketranovich and the two Salikovs were. Three out of four isn’t bad, I guess.
I'd reduced Dark Rain to nothing but dust and myth. Pellaggio was dead and buried. The government was protecting the Uranium mine and, despite recent events, I can now count one of the biggest private military contractors in the country as an ally.
Aside from the uncertainty about Clara, I’d say I’ve come out of that whole situation in a pretty good position.
Once I’d left the hospital, I'd taken the first Greyhound bus out of Heaven’s Valley. I’d told Josh to leave me be for a week or two. I needed the rest and the peace and quiet. I’d made my way down through Phoenix before heading over to Colorado Springs, where I’d been for the last four days. It’s a nice place. Been here almost a week and no one’s tried to kill me yet, which is a marked improvement on Heaven’s Valley.
I walk over to the jukebox and feed some quarters into it. I cycle through the playlists and choose some songs that catch my eye. My phone rings as I’m selecting the last song. It’s Josh.
“Hey,” I say. “You alright?”
“I’m doing fine, Boss,” he replies. “You all rested up?”
“I’m getting there. I’m just enjoying the downtime, to be honest. How’s things with you?”
“Not too bad. I've spoken with Clark on and off since you left town. Figured it couldn’t hurt to keep in touch and maybe whore ourselves out to them every now and then?”