“Damn,” O’Neil said. He wrapped his claws around the bar to steady himself. It was bad enough that the Oni Agent spread through so much as a scratch from a Skull. But if that’s what the Russians had been using this site for—not just a place to create Hybrids—but also a port to ship an agent that was now airborne, the world was in a lot more trouble than it already was. He hadn’t seen anywhere inside the base where this new agent could be manufactured, but nonetheless the idea was terrifying. “That’s… that’s not good.”
“No, it’s not,” the blue-eyed man agreed.
“You think they’re…” Reynolds stopped. Grabbed at his stomach again, wincing and grinding his teeth together as pain flashed across his bony features. “You think they’re loading the new agent on ships?”
“Why do you ask?”
“No production facilities here. This must just be a distribution and testing center. Nothing more.”
The blue-eyed man appeared surprised.
“Look,” Reynolds said, “before we were caught, we scouted this whole place. The only labs are in here, across from our little prison. All they’ve been doing is processing Skulls in and out of there.”
“That and experimenting on us,” O’Neil added.
“This is screwed up as hell,” the guy that looked like a boxer said.
“You don’t have to tell us,” Tate said.
Loeb narrowed his eyes, staring through the bars. He finally asked the question O’Neil wanted to know now that he was at least fairly confident these new arrivals weren’t just going to slaughter them. “Who on God’s green Earth are you people?”
The blue-eyed man motioned to himself. “I’m Dominic Holland. Dom, if you want.” He indicated the guy with the prosthetic. “Miguel Ruiz.” Then the boxer. “Spencer Barrett.” The woman. “Jenna Reed.” Then finally, the big guy in the back. “Glenn Walsh.”
“Great,” Loeb said. “We know your names. But who the hell are you with? Give me a branch.”
Dom looked back at his team. “We’re more or less on our own. Maybe you’ve heard of us. We’re the Hunters.”
-31-
“No way, man,” Tate said. “You’re the merc group people have been talking about.”
O’Neil couldn’t believe it. He had been almost convinced these people had come to set them free. To actually return them to the United States. But after what he’d heard about this group of contractors, he was no longer so certain.
This all might be a ploy. A desperate effort to take his team hostage along with the intel they had, bartering it all off to the US government for money, fuel, supplies, whatever these bastards were after.
“What are you going to do when you let us out?” O’Neil asked. “Take us captive? Throw us in your ship’s brig?”
Dom lowered his rifle. “No, of course not. We can let you out of those cages, and as soon as you’re out, if you want, you can run right back into Tangier.”
“But I’m warning you, it’s a bit of a shitshow,” Miguel said.
“You guys were part of the reason the Oni Agent got loose,” Loeb said.
“Definitely not,” Jenna said. “We’ve been risking our asses trying to stop it.”
“We were framed,” Glenn offered, his baritone voice rolling over them. “The same people that put you in this prison, that did this to you, framed us. They proffered false intel to make it seem like we were behind the outbreak.”
Miguel scoffed. “If we were with the Russians, we wouldn’t be sneaking in here and trying to let you guys out. In fact, we’re here specifically because JSOC told us about you SEALs. We just didn’t expect to find you guys like, well, this.”
“I don’t buy it,” Loeb said.
O’Neil was surprised to hear Loeb’s reluctance. But after how he’d seen the man change—both physically and mentally—over their imprisonment, he couldn’t blame him.
Then Spencer gave Loeb a nod. “I get it. I really do. I served on the SEAL teams myself. When I retired, I joined up with Dom’s group, ready for a new challenge. Never could get used to civilian life. I can’t imagine what the hell you guys have been through, but I know what you went through as a SEAL.”
Spencer gestured toward Glenn. “He’s a Green Beret.” Pointed to Jenna next. “One of the first women to make it through Ranger school.” Miguel, next. “Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
“We’re not the type of contractors that run around just to make a quick buck,” Dom said. “I devoted my life to protecting the country we all love and doing my best to stop the kind of awful shit that’s happening here. I thought I could protect the world from threats like the Oni Agent. But it looks like we’re going to need some help. You in?”
Loeb turned away.
“Come on, man,” Tate said. “All we got to do is get out of here. Fight.”
“We’ll get you back to your girls, Loeb,” O’Neil said.
Spencer let his rifle go completely. It hung on its sling, and he held up his hands. “All the people on our team come from various branches of the armed services. We could’ve gone and joined some contracting firm that sits on their asses punching numbers into a computer or chased the high six-figure salary checks that I know the same groups have dangled in front of you guys. You guys have served. You know the types I’m talking about.”
O’Neil could picture it well. There were contractors who did the right thing. Did the job because it was a way for them to serve, even though they weren’t in the military or had left the service for whatever reason. Then there were the guys who walked around the sandbox, especially early on in the Iraqi war, who thought they owned the place. But they didn’t report to any of the same people he did.
They reported to their corporations, their companies.
The ones owned by millionaires and billionaires who feverishly joined in the war efforts, not to fight for freedom, but to get their slice of the pie, stealing from the taxpayers.
These weren’t the people who fought to protect American citizens from threats both foreign and domestic because of their love of country, but for their love of the dollar.
“We’re not like those other types,” Spencer said. “You know, we could’ve run off into the night, escape with our ship. Settle in a real nice island, free from the Skulls. But we didn’t.”
“And we aren’t making a dime doing this,” Miguel said.
Spencer nodded. “We all originally enlisted for the same reasons you all did. And we’re still here, in this shithole Russian base, because we’re still fighting that same fight.”
O’Neil wasn’t sure whether this was real or just an act. But the words these Hunters spoke sounded eerily similar to when Loeb had initially defended the Hunters’ motives.
“We’re not forcing anyone to go anywhere,” Dom finally said. “But if you all want to fight with us, if you want to stop the monsters—I’m not talking about the Skulls—that have done this to you, then come with us. Otherwise, when we open these doors, you go wherever you want to. We won’t stop you.”
O’Neil looked at Loeb, then Tate. They seemed to be watching him, waiting for an answer. “I’m not going to let you guys down. Tate, we’re going to make this right. We’re not letting this happen to anyone else. Loeb, your girls are waiting for you.”
A wave of pain spread from O’Neil’s gut, spreading through his legs and arms.
He fought past it. “We’ll fight.”
“Count us in,” Stuart said, banging his claws against the bars of another cage.
“I’ve been waiting for this day,” Reynolds said, standing taller, his bony armor flexing as his muscles coursed beneath the plates. “We will not let you down.”
Hassan let out a low growl. “I use all the strength left in my body to rid the Earth of these evil people.”