Juggernaut

He flicked away the cigarette.

He took a folded shirt from the trunk. Crisp white. He unrolled a black silk tie. Socks. Silk underwear. Polished brogues.

He unzipped a suit carrier, and laid a white linen suit on the cot. He smoothed creases. He brushed away lint.

Voss explored the cavern. He found a 24 KvA trailer generator parked in a wall niche. Power for the cavern floodlights.

He filled the tank from a jerry can, turned the ignition and set the generator running. Cough and splutter. A puff of diesel smoke. Output needles twitched.

A ring of light towers flickered and glowed steady. The cavern was lit brilliant white. Spektr floodlit beneath its polythene dome.

A voice echoed round the cavern.

‘How’s it going?’

Gaunt. Quiet, mocking.

Voss crouched. He fumbled at a chest pocket. He put on his glasses. He scanned the cavern. No movement. No sign of Gaunt.

‘Reckon you can get that locomotive working?’

Voss pressed himself against the rough sandstone of the cavern wall.

‘So, after all this blood and anguish, Lucy wants to send you home empty handed? How do you feel about it? You’ve seen your friends die. All for nothing.’

Voss gripped the shotgun. Multiple tunnel mouths. Gaunt’s voice reverberated round the cavern.

‘That bomb. That warhead. Do you have any idea how much it is worth? Forget the gold. Boxes of watches and rings, pawned for a fraction of their value. You didn’t want a few dollars in your hand. You weren’t looking for another paycheque. You flew out here with bigger dreams in your head. Lucy promised you a fortune. You were going to lie on a beach for the rest of your life, umbrella drink in your hand. Help me get the warhead back to Baghdad. I swear, you will never work another day in your life.’

‘Come on out,’ said Voss. ‘Let’s talk it over.’

‘Think about it. What’s waiting for you back home? Do you even have a home? Half your life in jail. Zonderwater. Krugersdorp. You’re old. This is your last roll of the dice.’

‘Gaan fok jouself.’

‘I killed your friend. So what? I won’t apologise for pursuing my self-interest. Neither should you. I want to be rich. I want to matter. I want to prove the world wrong. I’m sure you know what that is like. To always be bottom of the pile, the back of the queue. Well, this is it. Your one and only chance to change your life.’

Voss circled the cavern. He checked the entrance of each passageway, shotgun at his shoulder. No sign of Gaunt.

‘The virus cylinder. It’s small enough to slip in your pocket. Small enough to carry home. And it will buy anything you ever wanted.’

‘What would you want in return?’

‘Fifty-fifty split.’

‘I’d be waiting for a double-cross.’

‘That’s why I would play straight.’

Voss thought it over. He rubbed tired eyes.

‘So what do you say?’ prompted Gaunt. ‘Tell me you are interested. That’s all I need to hear. Tell me we have something to talk over.’

‘Yeah,’ Voss heard himself say. ‘Yeah, I’m interested.’

Lucy walked to the mine tunnel entrance. Amanda crouched behind the plank barricade, rifle at her shoulder. Weak dawn light.

‘We had our first customer,’ said Amanda.

Lucy squinted into the gloom. A body on the track.

‘When did he show up?’ asked Lucy.

‘He came round the corner ten minutes ago.’

Voss joined them.

‘They’ll eat through our ammo, pretty quick if they attack en masse,’ he said. ‘How many did Jabril say were out there?’

‘His battalion was under-strength. He reckons about two hundred men.’