Lara felt a loosening in her chest with each step that Jess and Ellis made toward the bay, a lifting of the dire shadow that had engulfed the ill-fated mission. It was nearly over.
“They’re almost at the air lock, Pop; don’t forget about me—”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Lara spun around, heart pounding wildly—and saw Pop standing at the door to the communications room, smiling at her. She stared at him in shock, the shock turning to confusion as her thoughts grasped for an explanation— and found none. Behind her, pulse rifles sang at random intervals, and drones screeched across the monitor block.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in ops—”
His sunny grin faded. “I came to see you, Kat.”
As he spoke, she saw the handcart he’d brought with him and stopped struggling for a reason; the flat circle of the single-megaton nuclear fail-safe on the pull gave her a hint—
—as did the USMC-issue nine-millimeter he held loosely in his other hand, the barrel pointed at the deck in front of her feet.
For now… Pop had lost his fucking mind.
She kept her gaze on his, trying to figure how far away her rifle was. Not more than a half step, five o’clock on the console shelf, just to her shoulder—
—and saw that he knew what she was thinking. He smiled again, but she saw his cold eyes flicker to the weapon behind her—and his fingers tightening on the alloyed grips.
“What are you going to do, Pop?” She tried to keep her voice calm, her mind yammering at her to think of something, some psychology that would work, an attack that he wasn’t expecting—
Jess’s voice crackled through the ’sets, hoarse and uncertain. “What’s going on? Where are you, Pop?” Lara answered quickly, gaze never leaving Eric’s face.
“Bay may not be safe, Jess! He’s here with me and he’s got a fail-safe—”
Pop walked past her, the automatic low but ready, watching her. He leaned past her, close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath against her neck before stepping away, holding her M41. He ejected the magazine one-handed and tossed both aside.
His tone was heartily sympathetic as he backed to the cart.
“Ah, Jess,” he said, “I’m really sorry about this.” He squatted, releasing the cart’s lock and managing to balance the fail-safe against his chest. He edged toward one of the bulkhead walls, smiling at her ironically.
“Hey, you too, Ellis. Shame to end a promising career so soon. You did real good in that bug suit, son…”
“What the fuck are you doin’, Pop?” Jess shouted. The commander had reached the entry of the room and stopped, keeping his gaze locked on Lara’s, still watching her carefully.
“Jess, I want you to know that none of this is my doing,” he said seriously. “I really have no choice; they didn’t even tell me until after you were in, and what was I supposed to say? Nothing left behind to incriminate the Company, no locked wave emissions or physical evidence outside that log—nothing, you understand?”
—can’t even say it, can you? “No witnesses.” You fucking slime—
Eric Izzard had sold them out. She’d been an idiot, worrying about his emotional instability toward her—and not willing to consider that he was capable of betraying all of their trusts. She should have seen it coming—
Yeah, you should have. Shut up and do something!
He’d have to take his attention off of her for a split second to lock the explosive; it took both hands to spin the insets. She’d have to fly, but there might not be another chance.
Pop grasped at both handles and Lara sprang at him.
* * *
“…wave emissions or physical evidence—nothing, you understand?”
Jess understood; they were screwed. The suit tracker showed multiple readings coming from their escape site— the bay they had finally reached was completely overrun, there was no shuttle—and there weren’t any other hatches within a hundred meters. It was step into a swarm of them or try to hold them off in the passage.
No choice. “Back to the wall, kid!”
He positioned himself and looked up at the Max, watched Ellis lurch the suit around slowly, the monstrous shoulders banging dents into the metal-lined panels—
—as the corridor was filled with the distant but rising, echoing howls of the next wave, approaching quickly from both sides.
One clip. Fuck you, Izzard.
* * *
Pop spun and cracked the pistol against her temple, knocking her back in a sharp burst of starry pain.
He pointed the automatic at her head as she slammed into a console and froze, staring at the dark bore of the weapon.
“Back to the wall, kid!” Jess shouted over the rising sound of alien voices—
—and Pop was breathing heavily, his finger under the trigger guard, glaring at her in reproach.
“Don’t try to stop me,” he snapped. “It has to be done— don’t you see? If this ever came out, it would destroy everything we’ve worked for—”
“Everything you’ve worked for,” she said, realizing too late that she should’ve kept her mouth shut but too angry and dazed to care. Pop didn’t seem to notice.
She imagined that she could hear it throughout the station, the clamorous shrieks of the entire horde as they filled the screens’ audio and pounded through the dark— but she didn’t dare turn to look; without the shuttle, the two men were dead—and she couldn’t do a thing about it with Pop’s weapon in her face.
He went on doggedly, his expression grim but his gaze searching her with something like desperation. “They needed that information, someone had to get it—believe me, I didn’t ask for this, and I don’t like it any more than you do—”
There was an explosion of gunfire from the screens behind them and Jess shouted over the set, the fierce screams of attacking drones fighting to drown him out.
“You like it a whole lot more than us, that’s for goddamn sure! Christ, Pop, don’t do this to us!”
Pop shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Jess, real sorry—but you understand my position; I have to go with the Company.”
Pop worked his way to the internal monitor block, automatic still trained on her aching head. She just caught a glimpse of bright weapon fire across a seething mass of black, gnashing shapes—
—and Pop flipped a row of switches, turning off the screens and audio.
He walked toward her, carefully reaching forward to tap her headset control power switch; the sounds of harsh breathing and bullets against the shrieks of drones snapped off.
For a moment he didn’t move away, staring into her eyes with a strangely hurt expression. Lara shuddered inwardly but didn’t move; his finger was still on the trigger and she had to think—
Can I bargain for our lives? How much influence do I have with him?
Being pistol-whipped was a pretty strong indicator that she wasn’t pulling much weight. She’d have to watch for an opening, and it better be soon—
He finally stepped away and went back to the failsafe. He worked the device easily with his free hand, hardly having to glance at the buttons. A soft series of beeps sounded in the silent, chilly room, and he pulled a thin keycard from his flight suit’s pouch, sliding it through a reader near the top of the metal plate—
—and then Lara shuddered for real this time, an involuntary spasm that racked her sweating body as Pop dropped the card to the deck and crushed it beneath one heel.
Pop had just manually programmed the nuclear device to detonate—and without the card, the only way to stop it was from the main computer on Nemesis.
“Fifteen minutes,” he said, and started toward her, his voice softening as he approached. “Ample time for us to get clear. We don’t even have to hurry, although we really should allow for variables—these terminals have giant reactors…”
Lara felt a sudden dread pound through her veins as his words sank in, totally separate from the fear for her life and the lives of Ellis and Jess. He wasn’t planning to kill her.
From the hungry look on his face, he had something entirely different in mind.