Desert takedown, p.12
Desert Takedown, page 12
“What was different?”
“The solution I have been placing my genetic sample in appears to be the key. In essence, I’m attempting a blood transfusion akin to taking human blood and putting it into a cat or a bird or any lesser animal. The human body rejects the Immortal DNA. My autopsies have detailed out the rate of organ failure and rejection of my genetic material.”
“Are you saying that you’ve been trying to turn these little neo-Nazis into actual Immortals?”
“Well, that would be a byproduct of my experiments, but that is not the focus. The point is to understand what we are, how we work, so that we can unlock all of our true potential, and in doing so, unlock how we can procreate. Our species should not suffer extinction because of our ignorance. That seems rather cruel to me.”
Nathan clenched his fists. “Cruel? You got your start working for the Nazi party attempting to bring extinction upon the Jews.”
Dr. Schumer sat on a stool by a worktable. He leaned his back against the edge and crossed his arms. “You really don’t understand what you are.”
“Doesn’t seem like you do, either.”
Dr. Schumer chuckled but a nasty scowl swiped across his brow. He walked over to the corpses and returned the covers, blotting out the horrors he had inflicted upon them. With a short motion, he gestured for Nathan to follow him into an adjoining room.
This room — much smaller and starkly humid — housed an entire wall of aquariums, terrariums, and simple glass containers. In them, Nathan saw much that he had expected — assorted fish, various arachnids, some unusual types of lizards. But also Nathan found containers holding human hearts, damaged livers, and even whole muscles connected to wires and electrodes.
Dr. Schumer turned back with an uneven grin. “I’ve shown my work to others before, and I can always tell when the thought hits them. You are thinking I’m a mad scientist, an insane man whose experiments have gone too far. And I would agree with you, if I was working on my own kind. We do not consider scientists who study mice or chimpanzees to be mad scientists. Of course, there are some people who protest the use of animals for the betterment of mankind, but the scientists and their work are never portrayed as the act of insanity. Were I human and doing these experiments on other humans, then yes, I would agree with you. It would be immoral madness. But I am not human. Neither are you. We are above them.”
Nathan tried to hold back any judgment in his voice. No good would come from upsetting a madman. “You’re saying that human beings are no better than animals?”
“No, no. You misunderstand. Of course, human beings are on a higher level than animals. A goat or a cow or a sheep has nothing on a human being. But Immortals are far superior than the humans. If it is not insane for a human to experiment on a rat, then it is not insane for me to experiment on a human.”
“And by doing these experiments, you think you have unlocked what makes us Immortal?”
“I’m getting close. But I’ve been close for decades. However, I have endless time to continue my research.”
Before Dr. Schumer could loop back and start his ramblings again, Nathan put into words the thoughts itching at the back of his mind. “If you’ve been doing this in secret for so long, if you’ve had no colleagues to work with, then how is it that I was hired to come out here? Somebody knew about you.”
Wagging his finger, Dr. Schumer said, “Exactly my point. You must ask yourself what is the real reason you’re here? Those who hired you — what do you think they were trying to accomplish? They had you destroy the training camp. That says to me they wanted to take out my main resource for experimentation subjects.”
“You mean the young man you tricked into coming out here by warping their minds with white supremacy and Nazi propaganda. Then you turned around and killed them by experimenting on their bodies.”
“Those young men are the bravest I’ve ever known. Someday, when I succeed, they won’t be sacrificing their lives to me but extending their longevity to near forever. Imagine what I could do with an army of men like that.”
“That’s not a good argument if you don’t want me to kill you.”
“Perhaps that’s what your bosses want. You find me, you kill me, they don’t have to worry about Immortals ever learning to reproduce. There are a lot of good arguments to suggest that is the case. But, if true, then why send you? I don’t wish to offend, but your actions are not that of a trained assassin. If they truly wanted to destroy me, why not be more subtle? More direct? More than you.”
Nathan shifted on his feet. He did not like this. He preferred to think of these people as either Brads — naïve, manipulative, stupid — or Eriks — brash, ignorant, hate-filled. But the idea that Douglas and Smith had sent him to the desert for anything but an assassination did not sit well.
Did they think Nathan would be lured in by all of this racist nonsense? Or did they know that Dr. Schumer was out here? Did they know what he was doing? If so, do they want Nathan to help him or kill him?
If Douglas and Smith truly had been hired by entire governments, then those governments would be highly interested in obtaining results from Dr. Schumer. Soldiers who could die more than once would be one of the ultimate weapons.
Or perhaps Douglas and Smith wanted their own Immortals. Raising their own would be a lot more efficient than sending Commander Shi out to convince, bully, or coerce real Immortals. This could be nothing but a cost savings effort.
A new thought struck Nathan. “How do Primes fit into all of this?”
“Primes?” Dr. Schumer’s mocking tone filled the room. “A myth. In all the years I’ve been alive, all the Immortals I have come across, I have yet to meet a single person who has actually seen a Prime. Some claim to have done so, but they lack any proof. Primes are like the Loch Ness monster, the Yeti, or even a leprechaun.”
“So you don’t believe there are Immortals out there with these special powers?”
“That remains to be seen. Once I have accomplished unlocking the secrets of Immortality, then I can turn my attention toward some of these more fanciful abilities. But the truth is that I have never met a single Immortal who could do anything other than be immortal.”
Dr. Schumer’s phone chimed twice. He looked at it, read a text, and put it back in his pocket. “Come with me. Let’s see what you really think about all of this.”
Nathan already knew what he thought about all of this, but he followed Dr. Schumer once again through the maze of hallways until they arrived at a dining hall. They must have been in the middle of the building because the room lacked windows. Tapestries had been hung instead, along with the requisite Nazi banners running from floor to ceiling.
Two guards stood at attention on either side of double-doors opposite the one Dr. Schumer had led through. The guards wore German World War II uniforms and pulled off a crisp version of the German salute and a sturdy Heil Hitler. Nathan wanted to knock them all silly. They were playacting. For what? Some infantile dream that they could go back in time and rewrite history? It was moronic.
The stone walls and stone floor soaked in the frosty air-conditioning, and Nathan wondered how hard the system strained to keep a dining hall cold while the African desert burned just outside. The music played louder in the room, the heavy notes of Wagner thumping off the walls. A long table occupied the main thrust of the room. Put altogether, and Nathan found the display another bit of theater.
The double doors banged open. In walked Erik, strutting like an angry gorilla. Behind him, a bald and chubby man entered, and this man escorted a prisoner — Altman.
“Looks like we found a surprise,” Erik said, clearly enjoying his moment.
Nathan’s eyes narrowed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
With blatant pleasure, Erik kicked the backs of Altman’s knees, sending her to the floor. He grabbed her neck and pressed a 9mm against her skull. “I didn’t believe Brad when he said a little black girl might try to sneak into the compound. Guards spotted her prowling around near the goats. Not sure how she got in, but I promise I’ll make sure whoever screwed that up gets punished.”
Altman had her head up enough to make eye contact with Nathan. “I had an idea,” she said as an apology.
Dr. Schumer shuffled across the room. With a slight bend, he looked up and down Altman before shifting his entire body to gaze back at Nathan. “Not one of us, is she?”
“No, so don’t kill her.”
A short motion in his hand, and Dr. Schumer had Erik release the prisoner. Erik stepped back, holstered his weapon, and kept his eyes locked on Altman. With a toss of his head, he sent away the chubby man that had accompanied them. For her part, Altman managed to get back to her feet with a strong, prideful stance. She was a black woman surrounded by Nazis. She could only make the situation worse by being Jewish. Nathan made a mental note — ask Altman about her religious beliefs.
That thought warmed his chest. It suggested that part of him believed they would get out of this intact. Or at least, alive. And that thought made him wonder why — what advantage do they have that will save them?
The answer came fast. If Altman had the skill to slip into the compound undetected, then surely, she had the skill to not get caught. Which suggested that getting caught and brought here had been part of her plan.
Not just her plan, though. He had seen those compound walls. In order for Altman to have successfully made it inside, she must have utilized one of Nathan’s greatest resources — Robin.
So, Robin and Altman had concocted a plan without knowing the real target. Yet another note for the future — don’t ever leave those two women idling in a car again. They will not sit still.
Nathan sought any sign from Altman to tell him what she needed, but she kept her face forward. As her gaze fell upon the Nazi banners, she sneered. Since nothing had happened yet, Nathan decided he could, at the least, buy time. And the best way to do that was to play upon the prejudices of these idiots.
“If you think about it,” he said to Dr. Schumer, “Altman here is one of the best subjects you could ask for.”
Dr. Schumer cocked his head at an angle. “Oh? How so?”
“On second thought, perhaps I’m wrong. I mean I know I’m not wrong; however, with your specific situation, it might be difficult for you.”
“You are simply baiting me now. Out with it.”
“Well, if you’re intent truly is to understand how we are what we are and how we are created, then your research would do better with the least polluted DNA.”
“Least polluted?”
“Genetically speaking. If you could travel back in time and find one of the first Homo sapiens, you would be able to compare their DNA to ours. I imagine you’d be able to notice any significant differences with ease. Unfortunately, since you are dealing with people from today, you’re stuck with our genes. Those are a mess.”
“And you think Ms. Altman here has a more pure form of DNA?”
“When you consider that all of humanity originated in Africa, then black people are one step closer to the original DNA. Right?”
Nathan could see the struggle play out on Dr. Schumer’s brow. If he accepted Nathan’s hypothesis, then he would have to accept that black people were the original humans — not something a Nazi wanted to acknowledge. But if Dr. Schumer denied Nathan’s suggestion, then he might be losing out on a great potential discovery.
At length, Dr. Schumer said, “You’re playing games with me.”
“Merely stating a fact. For that matter, it occurs to me that if you continue your experiments along the lines you’ve been doing, you have slim to no chance of success.”
Dr. Schumer bristled. “What in your highly-educated opinion gives you that idea?”
“Snide comments are beneath you. Besides I am highly-educated. As for your experiments — since you’ve only used men recruited to your training camp, you’ve only performed the experiments on young, white males. Your sample size is ridiculously small. You haven’t used women, and you’ve avoided all other ethnicities. But I’ve met Immortals of all types. You’re going to fail.”
Wagging his finger once again, Dr. Schumer said, “I have met plenty of arrogant Immortals, but you — you seem to be at a level unparalleled. You think after having only met me for a few moments that you know how I think, how I feel, where my blind spots are. You think you understand science at a level like I do. It’s insulting.”
Nathan saw a shift in Altman — subtle but there. Gesturing toward her, he said, “Why don’t you ask her yourself? I’m sure she sees the same flaws in your methods that I do. Hell, even a guy as dumb as Erik might understand.”
“Keep talking,” Erik said.
Dr. Schumer scrutinized Altman. “Well? Is Nathan right? Can your pathetic excuse for a brain actually comprehend what I’m attempting to do? Because that’s the first step before you have the capacity to criticize my methods.”
“I don’t know.” Altman placed her hands in her pockets. “I haven’t been paying much attention to what you two were saying. I had far more important things to do.”
“Far more important? Is this some kind of American joke that doesn’t translate well?”
“Not at all. I’ve just been waiting for my partner to give me the signal that everything was ready.”
Dr. Schumer straightened as much as his old body would allow. His face turned cold. “Ready? Your partner?”
“Don’t listen to her,” Erik said, giving Altman a fast blow between the shoulder blades. “There was no partner with her, and she certainly wasn’t smart enough to avoid getting caught.”
Piercing through Dr. Schumer’s overconfidence, Altman said, “There’s the mistake you made right from the start. You really think you caught me. Did it ever once occur to you that I let you catch me? That I wanted to be brought in here? You talk like you’re so brilliant, but you never noticed that I’ve simply been waiting until everything was ready and my good friend Nathan was nearby.”
Dr. Schumer’s eyes widened as he reached towards Altman. “Her pocket. She has something in her pocket.”
Nathan saw Altman’s hand clutch within her pocket. Right before the world around them exploded, he thought she’s got a detonator.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Stone and sand blasted through on all sides. The men guarding the door collapsed under the weight of the walls crumbling from above. Large holes along the walls led to other rooms with equally large holes that led outside. The dry, desert heat invaded the room like opening an oven door in an icy house.
Explosions rippled further away and gunfire erupted. The constant rattle drowned Wagner’s horn section as it attempted to crescendo above the battle. Nathan could not figure out what the men were shooting at until he saw a drone buzz by the open hole in the wall. He wanted to tap on his ear-comm and congratulate Robin, but they all had plenty to concentrate on at the moment.
Nathan rushed behind a newly formed pile of rubble. Dirt filled the air like a morning fog. Taking swift peeks, he put together what he thought to be the new terrain before him.
The two door guards were either dead or injured beyond effective use. The dining room table had been split in half, and Altman crouched behind the far end — having turned it on its side so that none of her enemies had a good line on her. Erik had been blown across the room. He lay on his back, disoriented, yet attempting to stumble to his feet. And Dr. Schumer — that old man sat behind Erik with his back against the wall. A boulder-sized piece of rubble had come to rest beside him. From Dr. Schumer’s caved in chest, it seemed clear that the old man had taken a direct hit.
As the dust continued to settle, Nathan watched Dr. Schumer’s second soul lift above. The abrasions on his forehead and along his arms sealed together. The bones in his chest jerked back into place.
Not much time left. “Weapons,” Nathan said to Altman.
Spotting where the voice came from, Altman scurried back. Couching next to him, she said, “I allowed myself to get caught. What do you think they did first? They took away my weapons.”
“You two ladies didn’t have a plan for after the bombs went off?”
“Robin said you’d be able to handle it. Plus she has her drones going around like mad out there.”
Nathan glanced back at Erik and Dr. Schumer. “I’m not worried about out there.”
The constant drumrolls of gunfire echoed off the compound walls. Cheers broke out from the guards suggesting that Nathan might have to reconsider his concerns. Those drones wouldn’t last forever.
“The door guards,” Nathan said.
Altman understood. The two men crushed under the collapsed wall — they would have weapons. Nathan sprang to his feet and took off. Altman followed. He did not bother staying low — neither Erik nor Dr. Schumer was in any condition to cause them trouble. Not yet.
But after only a few steps, Nathan halted. He motioned for Altman to continue. Erik had already made it to his feet. Dr. Schumer, however, still suffered through the healing process. Apparently the older the Immortal body, the longer it took to heal.
But Erik would be a problem. If he opened fire on Altman, everything would fall apart. She was the whole reason for being in the desert. Growling, Nathan charged Erik.
He plunged across the room, keeping his body low and his arms wide. He locked his focus on Erik’s legs. If he let his mind wander, if he considered the fact that he only had one soul, that he was mortal, he did not know if he could find the courage to act.
With Erik wobbling as he attempted to regain his mental and physical equilibrium, Nathan had no trouble tackling him to the hard floor. They hit the stone grunting, and Nathan’s forearms scraped open. Scrambling up Erik, Nathan let all his weight drop through to one knee, pressing into Erik’s sternum, pinning the man to the floor. Two punches to the jaw and one straight to the bridge of the nose — satisfying and hopefully enough to keep the brute unconscious.
