Red Zone (Red Zone 1)
Page 85
Their captor barked a cold approximation of a laugh. “Welcome to CommTECH’s top secret ladmium mine.”
There was a pause. “CommTECH isn’t allowed to mine in Bolivia. The Bolivian government only allows state-owned mining operations.”
“Is that right?” Kane drawled, making his men chuckle.
“What’s that in the sky? It’s a grid. No, wait… There are too many drones, it’s a—” She gasped. “It’s a holomatrix. This whole area is shielded from satellite screening. You’re hiding this operation from the world.”
“That’s what top secret means.” The CommTECH enforcer was as close to amused as the man probably ever got.
“No! You can’t do this. There are international agreements in place. You can’t mine here.”
Her head turned frantically as she tried to get a better view of the site.
She needs help! The rattler shifted as if to go to her.
No! Finish what you’re doing, then we can both help her. He put as much authority as possible into his words. The diamondback grumbled but went back to gnawing at the zip tie.
“You’ve destroyed most of the lower city. The historical buildings, the people.” Friday’s voice was shaking with her distress. “Oh my goodness, you’ve done this by force haven’t you? You’re forcing the people to work for you? You’ve enacted war on the Coalition Countries by doing this against Bolivia’s will.”
The laughter that filled the car was superior and cruel. As soon as he heard it, he knew exactly what had happened. The Bolivian president had gone behind the backs of the Coalition governments and made a deal with CommTECH. He’d sold out his country.
“Nobody even knows we’re here,” Kane said. “Except the very welcoming Bolivian president.”
She gasped. “The holomatrix. It projects an image for the world that shows the city the way it used to be, doesn’t it? They’ll find out about this. You can’t keep something this big secret for long. The Coalition Countries will find out.”
“Are you going to tell them, Ms. Jones?” There was that cold amusement again. “Before or after the poison gets you?”
Done, the diamondback said.
Striker felt the band give and his hands were loose.
Ankles now. Fas
t.
With slow, tiny movements, he rubbed his wrists before inching his hand to his belt. He pressed his thumb against the center of the buckle, activating the tracking device built into it and hoping the damn thing worked. He then moved his hands back behind him, in case someone checked on him. It was best if they all thought he was still bound.
“You bastard!” Friday snapped, making him blink. He didn’t think she knew any curses. “You think you can get away with anything, but you can’t.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I can do whatever I like. Who’s going to stop me?”
Striker felt the tension around his ankles give way, and he shifted his feet. Get back on me, he ordered his rattler.
I help.
You help by getting back in position.
I kill. Save mine.
Get back! If they find out about you, you risk all of us. And you’ll get Friday killed.
With a grumble, the snake crawled up his body and snapped into place. You better save her. She mine.
Yeah, yeah. You keep telling me. You’re a different species, you realize that, right?
The reply was silence, which was way better than listening to more rubbish from a talking reptile.
This was his life. He now talked to snakes.