“Get back to work,” Brehmer said to the blond man. “We don’t have all night.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. After picking up his bag, he walked over to a panel next to the door. He opened its lid and pulled out a clump of wires.
A minute later, two sounds came from somewhere out in the darkness: a loud grunt followed by a hard thud.
Brehmer spun toward the noise, his face etched with concern. “Hammond, was that you?”
There was a faint sliding noise then silence.
“Hammond?”
Brehmer waited, but there was no response. Zane knew that could mean only one thing — Hammond was dead. It also meant DH10 was in the room.
Suddenly, gunshots rang out, and rounds hit all around them. Zane dropped to the floor, careful to position his head behind one of the forklift’s tires. When the shots ended, a thud sounded in the corner of the room. Zane turned his head and looked in that direction. A flashlight had fallen to the floor and was pointed at the corner. The blond man was face down on the concrete, a pool of crimson spreading out from underneath his chest.
It was clear that DH10—or whoever was out there — had taken Hammond’s gun.
“Khaan, get over here,” Brehmer said to the man with the bionic hand.
In order to see what was going on, Zane got up on his knees and peered through the cabin of the forklift. Brehmer and Khaan were crouched behind a barrel in front of the door.
Brehmer pointed to the left. “Over there, I see him. DH10.”
Khaan stood and fired a pistol in that direction. Seconds later, there was return fire, but neither man’s rounds found their mark. It was a standoff.
There was nothing Zane could do. He would have to remain hidden until one side or the other prevailed.
Footsteps thumped across the floor. DH10 was moving in. Khaan stood and fired several shots in the direction of the sound, but this time, there was no return fire. DH10 had run out of ammunition.
After the echo of the shots died away, Zane heard a scraping sound. Looking right, he saw a large crate sliding across the floor toward Brehmer and Khaan. DH10 was using the crate as a shield in order to get close.
The guard fired twice then tossed the pistol aside. The magazine was spent. That meant both sides were out of ammunition. Going forward, it would be a battle of cunning and brute strength.
Khaan came out from behind the barrel. He reached into a pocket, withdrew a folding knife, and flicked it open. The matte black blade was at least four inches long. Good luck with that.
DH10 stepped into view. As he came into the light, Zane studied him closely for the first time. His eyes were cold and empty, and a line of saliva hung out of one side of his mouth. He had once been a handsome man, but now he looked more like a zombie. Zane felt sick to his stomach. Brehmer’s dark experiments had sucked the humanity out of the poor soul.
In what was likely an attempt to surprise his opponent, Khaan charged, and the two smashed into one another like lions battling on an African plain. As the two grappled, DH10 knocked the knife out of the guard’s hand. The two then exchanged a series of brutal punches, hits that no ordinary man could survive.
Zane thought of using the opportunity to slip off, but he couldn’t make himself turn away. The battle of titans was mesmerizing.
As the fight wore on, it soon became clear that DH10 had gained the upper hand. Khaan was a bear of a man, but the hammer-like blows from DH10 were taking their toll. Each punch damaged muscle and bone to a greater and greater extent.
Clearly realizing he would soon succumb to the punishment, Khaan lowered his head and pushed DH10 into the roll-up door. He moved his gloved hand upward. Zane could see that Khaan’s goal was to get his bionic fingers around DH10’s neck. If he were able to do that, the fight would likely be over. Khaan would crush DH10’s windpipe, cutting off his ability to breathe.
“Kill him!” Brehmer shouted.
Spurred on, Khaan pushed his hand upward with incredible strength. In a surprise move, DH10 released Khaan’s wrist. Immediately, the steel fingers latched onto his throat. Zane was confused. It seemed DH10 had given up. Why else release his grip?
But in the seconds that followed, Zane realized he hadn’t given up. In a clever countermove, DH10 grabbed Khaan’s bionic arm near the place where it joined the shoulder and tugged on it viciously. Khaan opened his mouth and let loose an earsplitting cry. It was the most horrifying sound Zane had ever heard.
With one final pull, DH10 loosed the bionic arm from its socket, separating steel from flesh in an explosion of tissue and blood. Khaan rolled over onto his stomach in obvious agony. Still unstable from the fight, DH10 crouched over him, raised a fist, and brought it down on the man’s head, pulverizing his skull with a lethal blow.
The job finished, DH10 stood. He had won, but he was bleeding profusely from several wounds on his head. A whimper broke the silence in the room. DH10 turned toward Brehmer, who was still cowering behind the barrel.
Zane heard sounds coming from the other side of the room. He wondered whether guards were coming to save Brehmer from certain death.
Seemingly oblivious to the noise, DH10 closed in on his prey. There was lust in his eyes, the kind of lust that would only be satisfied by destroying the man who had caused him so much pain.
Brehmer held up a trembling hand. “I can help you. In fact, I brought someone in to help you.”
DH10 grabbed Brehmer’s hand and pulled him out into the open.
“I can prove it,” Brehmer said. “His name is Noah Lind. I can take you to him now.”
As DH10 reached for Brehmer’s neck, a female voice shouted from a short distance away, “David!”
DH10 turned and stared out into the darkness, a look of confusion on his face.
A half minute later, the speaker stepped into the light. She spoke again, only this time her words were softer. “David, it’s me. Danielle.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
PRATT STEPPED OFF the trail and hid behind a clump of ferns. Seconds before, the woman had stopped and looked back. As best he could tell, he had managed to get off the path just in time. He remained perfectly still as she continued to stare in his direction. Had she heard him following her? He doubted it. The buzz of insects was so loud that it would’ve drowned out what little noise he made.
As he watched, she removed something from her pocket and lifted it to her ear. It was a phone or radio, and he guessed she was using it to call in her ride. Maybe that was a sign she hadn’t seen him after all.
The chase had begun about thirty minutes before when Pratt spotted her slipping away from Brehmer’s compound. Suspecting it was the same person who had been following them, Pratt had sent Skinner and Mortensen on to search for Zane while he followed her into the jungle.
Based on what he had learned in their briefing, Pratt surmised it was the same woman who had tailed Zane in Paris. She was also the same one he had encountered in Lugano. According to Zane, she was a Chinese agent who had been assigned to collect Brehmer’s secrets. That was another reason Pratt had decided to follow her — if she was leaving the island with something important, then Delphi wanted it too.
As Pratt watched, the woman finished her call and continued on. When she disappeared around a bend in the trail, Pratt came out of his hiding place and hurried after her.
He needed to find a way to take her down before help arrived. Unless she shot at him first, killing a foreign agent was out of the question. Not only would it violate international law, but it would also violate Pratt’s personal code of morality. He would have to somehow find a way to either sneak up behind her or swing around in front. Based on her speed, the latter would be extremely difficult, if not impossible.