Jennings waited patiently in the centre of the office as the colonel stood behind his desk, arms folded and stroking his chin as he considered what he had just been told. A thorough search had turned up nothing. No tripped alarms, no disabled sentry guns, no surveillance footage, no witnesses. A full roll call of both military and civilian personnel had confirmed no one was missing.

  “Some good news, at least,” the colonel spoke at last. “He didn’t kill anyone.”

  That was good news. But it left them with a different problem. “The bad news is we now have a confirmed but unidentified hole in our perimeter. It slipped in and out so clean that we have no traces. No idea where to even start looking.”

  “There isn’t one,” said Sanchez. “He doesn’t need one.”

  “Dammit, it can’t walk through walls,” he protested with a frustrated sigh.

  “Did I say it couldn’t, Sergeant?”

  Jennings straightened. “No, sir. You did not.”

  It had been here. Inside the perimeter. Waltzed in, planted a Colonial Marines patch in plain sight, and waltzed out again. Assuming it had left at all.

  “The truth is, I don’t know what the limits of his capabilities are. All I know is that whatever you think he is capable of, you’re underestimating him,” said Sanchez.

  Jennings waited for the colonel to continue speaking. The rattle of hailstones against the sealed storm shutters was unnaturally loud in the otherwise empty silence as it stretched on and on.

  “He’ll never stop, will he?” he asked quietly.

  “No,” said the colonel, with a matter-of-fact resignation that reminded him too much of the other Sanchez. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

  “You might not want to stand so close,” he added, nodding towards Jennings’s feet.

  Jennings looked around him, momentarily confused. The office was small, but he was still stood a respectful distance from the front of the desk.

  “Sir?”

  “When gods hurl thunderbolts, it is unwise to be standing inside the blast radius.”

  He stiffened, straightening to full attention. “I’m not going anywhere, sir,” he said proudly.

  It was brief, but the faintest hint of a weary smile appeared on the old man’s face.

  “No, I suppose not,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t solve our predicament.” The colonel bowed his head, his eyes closed, lost in thought as he seemed to consider the options carefully before he turned his attention back to Jennings.

  “Come with me.”

  *

  Jennings followed Sanchez into the makeshift infirmary. The low lights creating a sort of twilight that was only enhanced by how quiet it was. Too quiet, and that silence was infinitely more chilling than any cries of pain.

  Doc McTaggart nodded in polite acknowledgement as they entered, and it occurred to him that in the last two weeks he had never seen her sleep. Never seen her not tending to her patients, regardless of the hour.

  “It’s awful quiet in here, doc,” he said softly. “Did we lose any more?”

  The doctor gave him a tired smile. “No, Sergeant. They’re just asleep. The supplies you brought back are proving most helpful.”

  Jennings felt something ease in his chest. Not relief. Marines had still died. On his watch, no less. But at least they had not died in vain. People were alive because of them. Molina would have considered that a fair trade.

  “What about Sloan’s man? The mercenary?” asked Sanchez.

  The doctor gestured towards a cot near the rear of the infirmary. The merc was almost unrecognisable. Half of his head was covered in antiseptic bandages, with a brace fixed to his right temple. One eye completely covered, and the other closed. The rest of his face was an ugly patchwork of bruises that extended down past his neck. Jennings noticed Louie perched on the adjacent cot, looking on as he acknowledged Jennings with a nod.

  “What’s his condition?”

  “Multiple contusions. His abdominal organs took quite a hit, although there doesn’t appear to be any internal bleeding. He has multiple broken ribs, his trachea will need corrective surgery, a mild concussion but it could have been worse. His right orbital was badly fractured though, and I wasn’t able to save the eye.”

  “Will he live?”

  “I should think so, yes,” said the doctor.

  “You should see the other guy,” groaned Van Der Beek, catching everyone by surprise and grimacing as he tried to haul himself into a more upright position.

  “Don’t try to move,” said the doctor as she pressed on his shoulders with both hands, but even in his weakened state she was unable to restrain him.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Why did you confront him alone? You knew he was a synthetic,” asked Jennings before he could stop himself. “If you had suspicions, you should have come to us.”

  The big merc turned his head. His one icy blue eye locking on to him with a cold intensity. “And you would have done what? Given me a fair hearing?”

  “Of course,” Jennings scoffed.

  “Like you did with Sloan?” asked the merc. His good eye was completely unblinking.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen,” interrupted McTaggart, “but any questions will have to wait. Mister Van Der Beek, I must insist you get some rest.”

  “Just one, Doctor, then we’ll be out of your way. Mister Lafayette, how many doses do you have left?”

  “This is not the time, Colonel,” the doctor snapped, but Sanchez was not dissuaded.

  Louie looked up, seeming more perplexed than offended by the bluntness of the question. “I have one left. I’ll need to take it in about four and a half hours. After that…” he shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

  The colonel nodded as Jennings looked on, increasingly unsure where the colonel was taking this.

  “Sit tight, I’ll be right back,” said Sanchez. “Last question. Where is Doctor Yau?”

  *

  “Close the door please, Sergeant,” said Sanchez as the three men entered his office. Jennings hung back near the door as Yau turned to face them. The door clicking shut as the doctor seemed oblivious to the simmering tension. He didn’t wait for anyone else to speak first.

  “What can I do for you, Colonel?” he asked calmly.

  “I want you to perform the surgery to remove the xenomorph embryo from that man,” said Sanchez, his hands resting on his hips just above his holster.

  The doctor did not look at all surprised. “I’m sorry, but I must give you the same answer I gave Sergeant Jennings: it can’t be done without highly specialised equipment, which you don’t have.”

  “What about Delta?” asked Sanchez without missing a beat. “Could you perform the op solo if you had access to the facility?”

  Jennings felt his stomach tighten as the penny dropped. In that moment, he knew what the plan was.

  Yau raised an uncertain eyebrow. “I could…” he said, hesitating. “But how many Marines are you willing to risk to save one man?”

  “Zero,” clipped Sanchez. “You, me, and Mister Lafayette. No one else. I’ll provide an armed escort. The three of us head into Delta. You do the surgery, and I’ll assist. You do that, and I’ll pull some strings with the UACM brass. Get them to offer you a deal.”

  For a moment, Jennings thought the doctor might actually laugh, but Sanchez didn’t flinch, and he didn’t dare speak.

  “That is a very generous offer. But you cannot comprehend how much I am worth to Weyland-Yutani. Any deal your superiors could offer would not be worth what my lawyers charge to wash their hands. I will not spend one second inside a courtroom. We both know that,” said Yau without a hint of ego.

  Sanchez drew his revolver. The heavy weapon hung at his side as the doctor’s eyes darted from the weapon, to Jennings, and finally back to Sanchez.

  “You’re right,” said Sanchez in a tone that managed to be both conversational and menacing. “I probably can’t comprehend it. Hell, I’m just an old jarhead. I probably can’t even count that high. But maybe you can comprehend this. You either come with me to Delta, or I march you outside, stake you down, and leave you to your pets.”

  Yau glared at the older man through narrowed eyes. “You just ended your career, Colonel,” he said, but he failed to completely mask the slight crack of fear in his voice.

  “Yeah,” said Sanchez flatly, cocking the hammer of his revolver with a loud click. “Do we have a deal?”

  *

  Louie sat on the edge of the cot overlooking Van Der Beek, watching the big man’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept. The heart rate monitor continuing its steady, reassuring beep.

  He sighed. “I didn’t want to leave without saying anything,” he said softly. “I’m going on a trip, you’ll never believe where, and, well, I probably won’t be coming back.” He looked down at his arms. His coveralls covered the track mark scars, but he knew they were there. “I’ve been on borrowed time my entire life. I guess it had to run out eventually.”

  He paused, allowing the sound of the monitor to fill the silence.

  “I never had a friend, you know. ‘No honour among thieves’ and all that. I don’t know what we are, but…” he trailed off, the words catching in his throat. “To tell you the truth, big guy, I’m more scared than ever. How fucked up is that?” he gave a weak, bitter laugh.

  “All this time I’ve been terrified of this thing tearing itself out of me. Now, I’m terrified of parting with it. The thing about living borrowed time, you get so used to it that the prospect of just living…it becomes an abyss. Even if it is just for three more…” He inhaled deeply, steeling himself. “If you get out, when you get out, look up your sister back on Earth. You never know.”

  He hesitated for a moment. Half-expecting, half-wishing the big man would wake up. Tell him this was his dumbest idea yet. Or tell him to stop whining. Or just to say ‘Good luck’. But the only response was the constant, steady rhythm of the monitor. Silently, Louie stood. Closing his eyes, he took one last deep breath, exhaled slowly, and left.

  *

  Jennings was silent as he and Lowry escorted Doctor Yau to the edge of the perimeter. The four ever-watchful automated sentry guns stood side by side, spanning the breadth of the East Corridor, marking the outer boundary. Colonel Sanchez was already there, wearing full combat gear and holding a plasma rifle at low ready. Louie was stood next to him, wearing some ill-fitting cold weather clothes.

  “Do you have everything you need, Doctor?” asked Sanchez.

  “Everything I need is located on Delta Level 4. We’ll just have to hope it’s intact. Although, I would appreciate a sidearm,” grumbled the doctor.

  Sanchez shook his head. “That wasn’t the deal. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” a voice hollered out of the gloom, and all five men turned to face it.

  It was Van Der Beek. The big merc was wearing his white security armour, but still wore the bloodstained bandages across half of his face.

  “I’m going with you,” he said as he squared up to the group.

  “No deal,” said Sanchez.

  “It’s almost a kilometre to Delta from here. You need a second gun on side. You need someone to walk point. You’re going to have to carry him back on a stretcher, and I don’t think you two old guys are up to it. If you’re serious about doing this, you’re going to need my help,” said Van Der Beek.

  Jennings looked on as Sanchez furrowed his brow. “What’s in it for you?”

  “I owe him,” said Van Der Beek, nodding towards Louie.

  Sanchez pursed his lips. “Okay, but let me be clear. This is my rodeo. You follow orders. Understood?”

  “Works for me,” said the merc.

  “Sergeant, give him a primary and a sidearm,” ordered Sanchez.

  Jennings nodded to Lowry who handed the merc his plasma rifle, and with practised ease the big man performed a weapons check. Jennings unbuckled his holster with a standard issue sidearm and handed it over. It would be pretty useless against a xenomorph, but he felt better knowing Sanchez wasn’t going alone.

  “Sergeant Jennings, you have the command,” said Sanchez sternly. “Move out.”

  He watched as the colonel turned and left, followed closely by Louie and Doctor Yau, but he placed a hand on the big merc’s shoulder, stalling him for a few seconds, until he was certain the colonel was out of earshot. He leaned in, meeting the merc’s good eye as he whispered through gritted teeth.

  “You make sure he comes back.”