“She almost died,” the girl says. “You almost killed her.”
I’ve got nothing to say to that. It’s true. And I understand how she feels. There was a time when I wanted to save the monster, despite the destruction she wrought, but that was when Maigo was still a part of the monster. Now, Nemesis is just...Nemesis, an ancient and alien goddess of vengeance who cares nothing for the people she crushes underfoot.
I turn to Endo. “What now? I’m assuming you have a plan, since you’ve hijacked our ride.”
Endo works the controls, and the X-35 pulls up and away from the carnage. “Emergency services are doing what they can here. DARPA’s C-130s dumped their payloads on the city, but are being reloaded to help stop the fire.” That he knows and addresses my concerns before giving an answer irks me. I don’t like being known by this man. He sets his eyes on me. “We are going to get our people back.”
He spins us around and accelerates, but not so fast that I need to put on the mask.
“And how do you intend to do that? Fly into Area 51, waltz inside like we own the place, maybe with Hawkins as a prisoner, and stroll back out with Alessi and Woodstock?”
He smiles and points at Silhouette’s uniform resting on the floor behind us. That’s exactly what he plans to do. “Seriously? We’re borrowing rescue plans from Star Wars now?”
“We even have a furry prisoner to take with us,” Endo says. “We can have her wounds tended to before leaving.”
I stare at him, confounded. Area 51, while no longer a big secret, is still a heavily guarded military base in the middle of nowhere, and apparently one of many installations where DARPA, or perhaps just GOD, operates. Even dressed as Silhouette, I don’t think we’ll make it past the tarmac.
He must sense my impending line of questioning, because he says, “We are going to be the least of their worries.” I wait for the punch line, and he delivers it. “The second Tsuchi spent the night charging northeast, through California and into Nevada. It was last reported in Pahrump, just fifty miles from Vegas.”
“Geez,” I say. Vegas’s population is just over six hundred thousand, but tops out at two million if you count the surrounding suburbs. It’s potentially double that if you count the tourists. “Area 51 scrambled its forces to defend the city, didn’t they? The base is vulnerable.”
“Uh-huh,” Endo says.
“Then we need to go to Vegas, too. It’s our job to—”
“The Tsuchi isn’t going to Vegas,” Endo says.
“What makes you think that?”
“I understand them.”
I try hard not to roll my eyes. Endo is obsessed with Kaiju, Nemesis in particular, but he fancies himself a regular monster whisperer. “And what do you understand?”
“That a creature begotten by Nemesis might have a thirst for more than flesh and blood.”
There are two things I really hate in this world: The Golden Girls and Endo being right. While the first Tsuchi showed a clear preference for densely populated areas and the people within them, the second charged northeast. I’m sure it’s had plenty to eat along the way, but a good portion of its path was empty desert. If all it wanted was food, it could have headed up the coast, while its now dead sibling went south. So it was being drawn by something else: vengeance. Like Maigo, it might retain the knowledge of what had been done to the Tsuchi who spawned it. The creature held a grudge, against GOD. “It’s going to Area 51. But why? It left the GOD building in Lompoc alone.”
“It’s after Brice,” Endo says.
“Brice is dead.”
“One of them is.”
“One of them?”
“Alicio Brice was one of the first U.S. scientists to work with Unit 731 after the war. He formed GOD and established Island 731 as an official black operation long before there was a DARPA organization to hide behind. The first Brice has been dead for thirty years. The man you met was one of many clones, all created by the first, all instilled with his knowledge and ruthless search for knowledge.”
I’m about to point out Endo’s similar personality flaws, but hold my tongue. If I’m stuck working with the man again, I need him on our side, at least until I’m in a position to bring him down. I also know now that Cole was lying about ending GOD’s biological weapons program. With a cache of Brices, the research could continue indefinitely. It’s then that I realize I haven’t even questioned the notion of clones. Has my life become so insane that human cloning is barely a blip on my weirdar?
“The remaining Brices, ranging in age from twenty to forty, operate out of Area 51. If the Tsuchi senses them the way Nemesis would a single offender, it will be drawn to them, its thirst for vengeance overpowering.”
“And what about Cole? Is he a clone, too?”