Free The Plague Forge [ARC] by Jason M. Hough Page B

wrong, which normally implied a bad plan. But here the net result was a 90 percent chance of death for Russell Blackfield. Or, maybe Skyler would get lucky, and the bastard would survive infection and become a subhuman with one very useful thumb.
    This started with a finger, he thought, and it’ll end with one.
    Tania, Karl, Tim, Zane … none of them need ever know the outcome. He’d simply explain the reason he was forced to bring Blackfield along, and make up something plausible for the rest. The colony was better off with Blackfield gone, and Skyler figured if everything worked out and the man somehow did manage to help them enter the bowels of Nightcliff, well, that was simply a debt repaid. He could decide then if the man could live. He might just leave him in Darwin, alone and unarmed, hopefully still fostering a thirst for revenge against Grillo. Russell could certainly be a threat when he set his mind to it.
    Or Skyler would just shoot him, and be done with it. The world would be a better place. He doubted Tania would understand, much less approve, of such an action. “So be it,” he muttered to himself as the Magpie’s engines roared to life. Maybe he and Tania could call a truce then, wipe the past away, and get on with their lives.
    He took off with a terse goodbye to Tim and flicked off the comm before any questions could be asked about why the prisoner had been taken aboard.

Chapter Five
    Darwin, Australia
    28.MAR.2285
    Approaching the mouth of an alley in the Narrows, Pascal yanked hard on the truck’s steering wheel. Samantha winced as the metal side of the vehicle scraped along the brick-and-mortar wall of the building there, until she remembered the vehicle was borrowed.
    The truck rocked as portions of the wall came free and went under the rear tires. The side mirror on the passenger side next to Samantha crumpled and tore free. Pascal stomped on the brakes and came to a sudden stop.
    “Jesus,” Skadz said from the backseat. “Take it easy.”
    “It has to be convincing,” Pascal replied. “Go now. Go!”
    Sam pulled the door handle and pushed. It didn’t budge. Behind her the back door opened. She heard Skadz and Prumble slip out. “Help me with the door,” she called to them.
    Skadz’s face appeared at her window. He motioned for her to lower the window, and when she did he grabbed the frame of the door with both hands and pulled.
    Sam put her shoulder into it and pushed. Nothing.
    “Hurry,” Pascal said, “they’re coming.”
    “Fuck it,” Sam said. She yanked the seat recline lever and lowered herself instantly to a prone position. Then she pushed herself into the backseat and went out that door.
    A cloud of dust from the collision filled the air. She grabbed Skadz by the elbow and urged him deeper into the alley as angry shouts began to drift in from the street on the other side of the supposedly crashed vehicle. The locals would be angry until the nearest Jacobite patrol arrived, which wouldn’t be long.
    Prumble was already at the first turn in the alley, coughing from the concrete dust in the air. Sam urged him around the corner and then forced herself to walk. Per the plan, Skadz ran ahead to the far end of the L-shaped lane. He glanced out into the street, looking left and right, then turned and flashed an a-okay.
    “Clear,” Sam said.
    “All this to visit the tailor,” Prumble replied. He moved to a door on the back of an unremarkable three-story building. A sign at eye level read PRIVATE . And below that, CUSTOMER ENTRANCE AT THE FRONT .
    Prumble tried the handle, found it to be locked, and gave a sharp rap on the door. Sam drew her pistol and waited.
    A muffled voice from inside answered Prumble’s knock. Sam couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was clear: Go away .
    “It’s Prumble. Open up, Jaya.”
    “Piss off.” Sam heard that response clearly enough.
    “You owe me, dammit. Open the bloody door.”
    The door swung open so fast Prumble almost fell