Monday, March 17, 2014

The Death Cure - Chapter 52


“How?” Brenda asked, before Thomas could speak.
“I’ll let Gally explain that.” Vince gestured to the boy.
“Okay, think about the Right Arm,” Gally said. He stood up. “These people aren’t soldiers. They’re
accountants, janitors, plumbers, teachers. WICKED basically has their own little army. Trained in the
finest and most expensive weaponry. Even if we could find the largest stash in the world of Launchers and
everything else they use, we’d still be at a huge disadvantage.”
Thomas couldn’t imagine where this was going. “So what’s the plan, then?”
“The only way to even the playing field is to make sure they don’t have any weapons. Then we might
stand a chance.”
“So you’re going to steal them somehow?” Brenda asked. “Stop a shipment? What?”
“No, nothing like that,” Gally responded, shaking his head. Then a look of childlike excitement came
over his face. “It’s not about how many you can recruit to your cause, but who you can recruit. Of
everyone the Right Arm has gathered, one woman is the key.”
“Who?” Thomas asked.
“Her name is Charlotte Chiswell. She was a lead engineer for the biggest arms manufacturer in the
world. At least for the advanced weaponry that uses second-generation technology. Every pistol,
Launcher, grenade—you name it—used by WICKED comes from there, and they all rely on advanced
electronics and computer systems to function. And Charlotte’s figured out a way to render their weapons
useless.”
“Really?” Brenda asked, her tone full of doubt. Thomas found the idea hard to believe also, but he
listened intently as Gally explained.
“There’s a common chip in every weapon they use, and she’s spent the last several months trying to
figure out a way to reprogram the things remotely—to jam them. She finally did it. It’ll take a few hours
once she starts, and a small device needs to be planted inside the building for it to work, so our people
who plan to hand over the Immunes will do the job. If it works, we won’t have weapons, either, but at
least we’ll have a level playing field.”
“If not an advantage,” Vince added. “Their guards and security detail are so trained in using those
weapons that it’s second nature by now, I’m sure. But I bet they’ve grown lax in hand-to-hand combat.
Real fighting. Sparring with knives and bats and shovels, sticks and rocks and fists.” He grinned
mischievously. “It’ll be an old-fashioned brawl. And I think we can take them. If we didn’t do it that way,
if their weapons were still working, we’d get destroyed before it even got going.”
Thomas thought back to the battle they’d had with the Grievers inside the Maze. It had been like what
Vince just described. He shuddered at the memory, but it sure beat going against full-blown weapons.
And if it worked it would mean they had a chance. A rush of excitement hit Thomas. “So how do you
do it?”
Vince paused. “We have three Bergs. We’re going in with about eighty people—the strongest we could
find in our group. We’ll hand over the Immunes to our contact inside WICKED, plant the device—though
that’s going to be our hardest task—and when it does the job, we’ll blow out a hole in the wall and let
everyone else in. Once we’ve gained control of their facility, Charlotte will help us get enough of the
weapons running again to stay in control. We’ll do this, or every last one of us will die trying. We’ll
blow up the place if we have to.”
Thomas took it all in. His group could be invaluable in an assault like this. Especially those with their
memories intact. They knew the layout of the WICKED complex.
Vince continued, and it was as if he’d read Thomas’s mind. “If what Gally says is true, you and your
friends will be a huge help to our planning team, since some of you know the facility inside and out. And
every extra body counts—I don’t care how old or young you are.”
“We have a Berg also,” Brenda offered. “Unless Cranks have ripped the thing to shreds. It’s just
outside the Denver walls on the northwest side. The pilot is back with our other friends.”
“Where are your Bergs?” Thomas asked.
Vince waved his hand toward the back of the room. “Thataway. Safe and sound enough. Everything’s
close. We’d love to have another week or two to prepare, but don’t have much choice. Charlotte’s device
is ready. Our first eighty people are ready. We can spend the next day or so letting you and the others
share what you know, make final preparations, and then we move. No reason to make it sound any more
glamorous. We’ll just go in and do it.”
Hearing him say it like that made it more real for Thomas. “How confident are you?”
“Boy, listen to me,” Vince said, his expression grave. “For years and years all we’ve heard about is the
mission of WICKED. How every penny, every man, every woman, every resource—how it all had to be
devoted to the cause of finding a cure to the Flare. They told us they’d found Immunes, and if we could
just figure out why their brains don’t succumb to the virus, why then the whole world would be saved!
While in the meantime, cities crumble; education, security, medicine for every other malady known to
man, charity, humanitarian aid—the whole world goes to pot so WICKED can do whatever they want to
do.”
“I know,” Thomas said. “I know all too well.”
Vince couldn’t stop talking, spilling thoughts that had obviously churned inside him for years. “We
could’ve stopped the spread of the disease a lot better than we’ve been able to cure the disease. But
WICKED sucked up all the money and all the best people. Not only that, they gave us false hope, and
nobody took the care they should’ve. Thought the magical cure would save them in the end. But if we wait
any longer we’ll run out of people to save.”
Vince looked tired now. The room fell silent as he sat and stared at Thomas, waiting for a response.
And Thomas couldn’t argue with what the man had said.
Vince finally spoke again. “Our people selling the Immunes could certainly plant the device once
they’re inside, but it would be a lot easier if it was in place when we arrive. Having the Immunes will get
us into the airspace and permission to land, but …” He raised his eyebrows at Thomas as if he wanted
him to state the obvious himself.
Thomas nodded. “That’s where I come in.”
“Yes,” Vince said, smiling. “I believe that’s where you come in.”

0 comments:

Post a Comment