End of Women: Part Two

Too Far To Go Back

09:15 AM, Klondike Business Park, Houston

'You think they know something's up?'

Nate shrugged, strapping on a kevlar vest and buckling up his ammo belt, which, just for the day, included shock-sticks, gas canisters and a few spare Vaglocks. 

'Half of their male employees never showed up today,' Nate mused at the huge Bluenorth Security guy who wore a numbered nametag that read Chester, 'Least not the ones who read the email blast. Reckon they can work it out from that. You've got the building on lockdown?'

Chester cocked his rifle and nodded. 'No way out except right by here. I'll leave six men posted on the outside.'

Nate scanned the rear parking and loading area around the back of the office block. Good enough, he thought. He lit up a cigarette and checked his TabPhone, wondering when, if ever, Wilkes would send the signal. 

'One more thing,' Nate said dispassionately, 'we're working with Arrowheads.'

Chester rolled his eyes so hard they were in danger of falling out of his head.

'Man, seriously?' 

'Seriously. Wilkes wants a co-operative mission.'

'Fuck them knuckle-draggers. Half o' them aint even been in a real fight.'

'This isn't going to be any kind of fight. And we need the ordinary man on our side.'

'Politics aint my business.' Chester snorted. 'And that's what they are, ordinary. Dumb fuckers who gonna get themselves killed. Leave this shit to the professionals.'

Nate didn't have the patience to argue. 'Men like you are supposed to value orders.'

Chester puffed out his chest and squared his jaw.

'Damn right. I'm a vet.'

'Then this, Sergeant, is an order. Comply and co-operate with the Arrowheads, or you will be dismissed from future assignments.'

Chester softened, looking decidedly beaten. Nate didn't like to pull rank, but he knew how well Wilkes paid these guys. If the thought of losing their next paycheck didn't scare them straight, nothing would.

The rest of the Bluenorth guys had found a few old wooden palettes and were now using them as primitive seating. One of them played metal music from the loudspeaker on his TabPhone, possibly the way these guys geared up for combat. Combat, Nate sniffed. This would be more like cattle rustling.

A second heavy-duty hummer vehicle wheeled through the gap into the enclosed parking lot and pulled up next to the jet-black Bluenorth vehicle. The upturned arrow symbol splayed across the hood of the metal beast identified this as the Arrowhead contingent finally arriving.

Six men jumped out of all sides of the car. Immediately Nate could see the difference; where Bluenorth moved with a uniform and deliberate pace, formed up like a single unit, these Arrowheads scattered and stood around, craning their necks at the building above. They talked a lot, shouted questions back and forth. Even Nate knew their weapons - which they could have bought from any local gun store - were not safely secured. One of them, a short red-haired stick-man, had more knives on him than limbs. It was like introducing the Navy Seals to the A-Team.

'Hi there.' 

Nate nodded in the direction of the man who seemed to be in charge. His khaki-coloured vest and desert-camo army boots gave him the look of an army reservist who thinks himself Commander-in-Chief. His name, Nate was pretty sure, was Rathers.