Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,124
they wanted to start a new family . . . with Rook.
“Oh, God,” Sara said.
“If we don’t find him now, we’ll come back for him,” King said. “But first we need to get Sara back to the States.”
Queen looked up. “Why?”
“I have the cure,” Sara said. “It’s in my blood. Have any open wounds?”
Queen put a finger on her forehead and pushed. The dry swollen skin cracked and bled. Sara squeezed her lip, cracking the skin once more. She walked to Queen and kissed her forehead gently, but lingered, allowing their blood to mingle, not just on the surface, but in the wound as well, allowing the cure to enter her bloodstream. When she pulled away, Sara’s lips were bright red as though coated in lipstick. She wiped the blood on King’s black pants. “There,” she said. “Now you have the cure, too.”
Queen nodded and picked up the radio she’d brought and clicked it on. A loud hiss filled the room, but it was garbled with static. “Let’s take off the kid gloves, get the hell out of this mountain, and call for a ride.”
A loud barrage of gunfire blasted down toward them—distant but amplified by the walled-in chamber. They rushed to the small window and peeked out. Far above, small figures, soldiers dressed in dark brown and black camouflaged uniforms, at least ten, moved along the staircase, blasting away at a few hybrids in pursuit. The hybrids, totally exposed, were cut down under the accurate barrage. The soldiers were good.
Elite.
A brilliant flash of lightning entered through the ring of mountain holes and was amplified by the giant crystals. Rain poured through the holes next, hissing as it struck the city, watered the subterranean plants, and formed small streams on Meru’s sloped stone streets. The wet stone smelled fresh and sweet.
King ground his teeth as another flash of light revealed the soldiers up above. They moved down the long stone staircase in a perfect retrograde maneuver. The man covering the rear ceased fire and ran to the front, while the new rear man took his position and opened fire. Then, he too ran to the front while the next man covered the rear. Always covered, always moving, always killing.
“Death Volunteers.”
FIFTY-NINE
AFTER DRESSING QUICKLY in his black fatigues, King felt more like a soldier again, but still didn’t quite look the part. His feet, like Sara’s, were now bare. Sara joined King and Queen, dressed once again in all black, her short hair dried flat against her head.
After strapping on the belt to which his KA-BAR knife and a Smith & Wesson Model 39 9mm handgun were holstered, King took an AK-47 from Queen and slid five spare clips into his cargo pant pockets. Queen placed a satchel bag over her shoulder. It contained spare clips for her AK as well and two RPG rounds for the already loaded launcher lying on the bed.
“Where did you find all this?” King asked.
“Storage room in the caves above,” Queen replied. “Looked like they’d been collecting weapons from a variety of forces since the Vietnam War.”
He nudged the large backpack with his foot. “What’s in here?”
Queen grinned and opened the backpack. Several bricks of C4 plastic explosives complete with wiring and a handheld detonator were inside. “They must have bagged a demo team at some point.”
King nodded and returned Queen’s grin. “I have an idea.”
“Thought you might,” Queen said as she picked up the RPG launcher and headed for the door. “I’ll slow them down.”
King held a weapon out to Sara. “This,” he said, “is an AR-15 assault rifle. Fires eight hundred rounds per minute, so don’t hold the trigger down. Short bursts with accurate aim is a hell of a lot more effective than praying and spraying.” He quickly showed her the safety, how to hold the weapon against her shoulder, and how to reload it. He handed her the weapon and placed three spare ammo magazines in her cargo pant pockets. “Stay close to me. Do exactly what I say.”
Sara nodded, nervousness beginning to swirl within her core. She’d been in several firefights since this mission began. Each had rattled her severely, but this one would be different. With only three members of the previously seven-man team present, she was expected to fight. King strapped a belt around her waist. It held a knife and handgun, just like King’s.
“Safety is off on the handgun,” King said. “If you need it, pull it out and squeeze the trigger. A round is already chambered.”