Free Major Karnage by Gord Zajac Page A

attention. You’re gettin’ sloppy, you old fool. You can’t keep going off halfcocked like this! Your troopers are counting on you. Cookie, Velasquez,
Heckler, Koch. And now Stumpton, too. What the hell happened to your
military discipline?
    “We’re here.”
    The corridor they stood in was poorly lit. A single fluorescent
bulb clung to a flickering half-life in the middle of the hall. At the
far end, Karnage could make out a battered wooden door locked
with a heavy padlock. Sydney fished a key from the duffel bag
and unlocked the padlock. She opened the door, one hand on the
doorknob and one hand holding her pistol level with Karnage. She
motioned with her pistol.
    “After you,” she said.
    “You’re too kind.” Karnage walked into the darkness, conscious
of Sydney’s pistol pointing at his mid-section.
    The door closed behind Karnage with a loud thunk. The world
went black for a second. There was the flick of a light switch, and
an incandescent light bulb popped to life above Karnage’s head. The
sickly yellow glow reflected off the cracked cinder block walls and
rusting furnace in the corner. The air was thick with the smell of
dust and mould.
    “Cozy,” Karnage said.
    “Used to be called the hospitality suite,” Sydney dropped the
duffel bag by the door and rolled up her sleeves. “Used to bring
suspects down here when they needed a little extra encouragement
to confess.”
    “Aggressive interrogation,” Karnage said.
    “You’re familiar with the technique?”
    “A little too familiar,” Karnage said.
    Sydney pulled off her boots. “You gonna give Tiny here any
trouble when he uncuffs you?”
    Karnage felt the weight of the Sanity Patch on his neck. “Won’t
lay a finger on him.”
    Sydney nodded. “You heard the man. Uncuff him.”
    Tiny didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure, Sydney? I mean—”
    Tiny froze. Sydney had placed a finger against his shoulder. She
leaned in close to his ear. “Un. Cuff. Him.”
    She pulled her finger away. Tiny staggered backward, gasping.
He shot Sydney a fearful glance, then approached Karnage warily,
and uncuffed him.
    Karnage rubbed his wrists. “You mind telling me what this is all
about?”
    Sydney pulled off her socks and wiggled and stretched her toes.
“I worked hard to get this command. Fought tooth and nail. Had to
fight twice as hard as any bloke half as good. Old boy’s network. You
know how it is. Even then, the best I got was this lousy outpost on
the outskirts of civilization. Most of the men out here are rejects
from elsewhere. Worst of the worst. The armpit of the force.”
    “Hey!” Tiny said.
    “Nothing personal, Tiny. You know it’s true.”
    Tiny hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”
    “But I did what I could,” Sydney was stretching her calves.
“Weeded out the cops on the take. Brought in much-needed
discipline. Whipped this place into shape. We weren’t top in the
region, but we did all right.”
    Sydney pressed her leg against the wall, doing a vertical leg
split. “Then Brass calls. Tells me some nutty combat vet is loose
in my district. Dangerous stuff. A real menace to society. And I’m
thinking, finally, here’s my chance to show them what my boys can
do. But Brass has got other ideas. They think this might be more
than old Sydney can handle. So they bring in this guy Riggs. A real
up-and-comer, they tell me. Real hot shot. Bees knees. ‘He’s got the
inside scoop on this Karnage fella. You’re gonna love him,’ they tell
me. ‘Just wait until you meet him.’
    “So old Riggs shows up. And he tells me he’s been given my
command. Temporarily, of course. Just until this whole Karnage
affair is dealt with. So why don’t I go sit back, grab a tea, and let the
Real Men deal with things in the meantime. And he’ll be sure to
give me back my command when he’s done with it. Honest. There’s
a good girl.”
    “Sounds harsh,” Karnage said.
    “I am, of course,