Free Necropolis 2 by S. A. Lusher Page A

me up. I spent so long in that damned cell I'm aching for something to do.”
    As they crossed the area, making for the second prisoner's cell, Billings and Kyra filled Holt in on all the relevant details. Greg lost his voice, stricken into something like awe at the thought that he might finally have a link to his past.
    “So...you remember me, I mean, really?”
    Holt nodded. “Of course I do. We had drinks together every Friday down at that shitty hole in the wall the company called a bar. Your name is Greg Bishop. You're with Security-Investigations. You'd made it up to the rank of a Corporal and you were pretty sure you'd never go any higher. You seemed to think that management had it in for you.”
    “Man...this is crazy,” Greg whispered.
    “ We get some time and I'll tell you more about yourself, but if I'm being honest, I don't know too much. I mean, we hung out, sure, but you didn't like much to talk about yourself. I have no idea about your family, any friends you might've had before Dis, what you did before...” Holt shrugged and frowned.
    “ I'll take what I can get,” Greg replied.
    They came to the final cell. Greg made the center transparent, hit the intercom and stared in at the man in a dark uniform who was pacing rapidly back and forth.
    “Hey...who do you work for?” Greg asked, unfamiliar with the uniform.
    The man looked over. His eyes widened and an uncomfortable smile spread across his face. He took a step back.
    “Oh... shit ,” he said. “What the hell are you doing out of your cell?”
    “ What? Do you know me?” Greg asked.
    “ That voice is damned familiar,” Billings said.
    Now that he mentioned it, Greg thought so to. “Who are you?”
    “Uh...nobody, man. Can you let me out of here? You're doing a jailbreak, right? Right? Yeah, I'd like out now.”
    Greg shook his head. “No. Tell us your name.”
    “It's Campbell.” Kyra cut in. “Remember? Starck's pet killers? Campbell and Rez? Rez never spoke, that's Campbell. He's Dark Ops.”
    “ Aw shit,” Campbell muttered.
    “ How the hell did you end up in there?” Greg was curious.
    “ Well...I guess I started growing a conscience.” Campbell's laugh held a nervous twinge. “The shit we were doing...man, nuts. Just way too much for me. I mean, I just wanted out, you know? I couldn't look at some of the shit they were doing down in the labs, the prisoners, the experiments. One night I started talking to Rez about, you know, taking off. There's a few smaller ships around that have FTL capability. Just hi-jacking one and punching void until we were somewhere far away, change names, go to ground, that kinda thing. He says it's a good idea. I go to bed that night and I wake up in a fucking cell!”
    Campbell sighed and shook his head. “So what's it going to be? You heard my story. I'd promise not to betray you, but I don't think you'd believe me. What I can offer, however, is knowledge of the ship and a damned good gun hand.”
    Greg considered it. He looked at the others.
    “I say we leave the fucker to rot,” Kyra said darkly.
    “ Thanks, sweetheart,” Campbell muttered.
    Kyra took a step closer to the door. “Call me that again and I shoot your nuts off.”
    “We could use the back up, and he's got a point, he knows the ship. He could help us.” Billings stared a Greg.
    “ Yeah, until he turns us over at the first possible convenience,” Kyra muttered.
    Campbell shook his head. “No, they wouldn't take me back. Once you talk bad about Dark Ops, they're done with you. Forever.”
    “So why didn't they just kill you?” Billings turned to Campbell.
    “ Better this way. Live test subject is better than a dead body. Always. So what do you say? Yes or no, but don't draw it out.”
    Greg considered it for a long moment, and then hit the open button. The door slid open and Campbell stepped forward, smiling. Greg pointed the barrel of his shotgun directly into Campbell's face, who instantly froze.
    “W-what's the