understand what was happening. He took a threatening step toward Brand, and the other two men swung their weapons to cover him.
Hammerlock stopped dead. He was too much the seasoned warrior to move, knowing that the odds were against him.
Hammerlock ignored the others, staring only at Brand. "Am I to understand that you are like those bureaucrats who betrayed me so many years ago? Am I to understand that the bonds that held us together in the face of war have been destroyed?"
"So, the death game comes full circle," Joe said mockingly.
Hammerlock stared at Brand in honest bewilderment. "I saved your life," he said.
"That was a long time ago," Brand replied. "You couldn't possibly expect subservience forever."
"Subservience, no, but loyalty, yes!" Hammerlock snarled.
"Brand believes in money more than loyalty, right, Major?" Joe asked sarcastically. He was thinking of the documents Frank had found.
"It's the San Marcos business, isn't it?" Joe continued. "Hammerlock was telling the truth when he denied knowing anything about that mercenary deal." He shook his head. "He is a psychopath, who thinks there are simple answers to complex world problems. But at least he's not out to make big bucks from them."
"Is that true, Orville?" Hammerlock asked. His face became unreadable again.
"Why don't you give me a harangue about honor, Colonel? Honor is an illusion. It's in your mind. It's a disease that has prevented you from seeing how what we created could make us rich men!" Brand's anger seemed to get the better of him, and Joe was afraid he might open fire.
"I created Ultimo," Hammerlock stated, but it was in a dead voice, as if he had already decided the argument was over.
"But I'm going to turn the squadron into the highest-paid independent mercenary unit ever," Brand informed him. "With or without Ultimo. In a little over two weeks, I'm going to take command of our forces and lead them in a strike into San Marcos."
Hammerlock's guttural voice was devoid of threat, just flat and distant. "I'll never let you turn this noble fighting unit into a collection of hyenas and jackals."
Brand shrugged. "Yes. That's the problem. You see, Colonel, I wish I could leave you here on this island to play your little games, but I know you would oppose me."
"You should know that. You've known me long enough."
"The troops have been training for this operation and this operation alone. They think you approve of it." Brand's dark, sunken eyes shone. "If I let you return to camp, you could create tremendous divisiveness within the troops. Right now, as long as they think you endorse it, they're hungry to go into battle."
"Over my dead body," Hammerlock said.
Brand's thin lips parted in a smile. "Exactly, Colonel."
Terry picked himself up, anticipating what was coming. "Oh, and let me guess," he said. "You're going to use us as the scapegoats. You're going to make it look like one of us killed the colonel during his little foray."
"Brilliant, Terry," Brand said. "Your father would be proud of you. Of course, he'll never know."
"Because we'll all be dead. You'll have had to avenge the dear colonel," Terry said.
Brand nodded. "Yes. That should make you happy, Colonel. The troops will love the revenge angle. You've trained them so efficiently on the subject." Brand paused, then added, "And, of course, in the end, I will make over a million dollars."
Brand aimed his machine gun at Joe. One of the other men kept Hammerlock covered. The third man aimed at Terry.
Biff started crawling again. He shouted, "No!" but no one bothered to react to him.
Brand's thin lips pulled up over his large teeth. "Looks like you're on the firing range again, Joseph! Only this time there are no wooden targets. Game's over." He nodded toward the other men. "Ready on the firing line. Ready!" A dra-matic pause for effect, and then the command, "Aim!"
Chapter 17
Frank Hardy's boots slammed into Brand's mouth, driving the last command down his throat. Brand
Hammerlock stopped dead. He was too much the seasoned warrior to move, knowing that the odds were against him.
Hammerlock ignored the others, staring only at Brand. "Am I to understand that you are like those bureaucrats who betrayed me so many years ago? Am I to understand that the bonds that held us together in the face of war have been destroyed?"
"So, the death game comes full circle," Joe said mockingly.
Hammerlock stared at Brand in honest bewilderment. "I saved your life," he said.
"That was a long time ago," Brand replied. "You couldn't possibly expect subservience forever."
"Subservience, no, but loyalty, yes!" Hammerlock snarled.
"Brand believes in money more than loyalty, right, Major?" Joe asked sarcastically. He was thinking of the documents Frank had found.
"It's the San Marcos business, isn't it?" Joe continued. "Hammerlock was telling the truth when he denied knowing anything about that mercenary deal." He shook his head. "He is a psychopath, who thinks there are simple answers to complex world problems. But at least he's not out to make big bucks from them."
"Is that true, Orville?" Hammerlock asked. His face became unreadable again.
"Why don't you give me a harangue about honor, Colonel? Honor is an illusion. It's in your mind. It's a disease that has prevented you from seeing how what we created could make us rich men!" Brand's anger seemed to get the better of him, and Joe was afraid he might open fire.
"I created Ultimo," Hammerlock stated, but it was in a dead voice, as if he had already decided the argument was over.
"But I'm going to turn the squadron into the highest-paid independent mercenary unit ever," Brand informed him. "With or without Ultimo. In a little over two weeks, I'm going to take command of our forces and lead them in a strike into San Marcos."
Hammerlock's guttural voice was devoid of threat, just flat and distant. "I'll never let you turn this noble fighting unit into a collection of hyenas and jackals."
Brand shrugged. "Yes. That's the problem. You see, Colonel, I wish I could leave you here on this island to play your little games, but I know you would oppose me."
"You should know that. You've known me long enough."
"The troops have been training for this operation and this operation alone. They think you approve of it." Brand's dark, sunken eyes shone. "If I let you return to camp, you could create tremendous divisiveness within the troops. Right now, as long as they think you endorse it, they're hungry to go into battle."
"Over my dead body," Hammerlock said.
Brand's thin lips parted in a smile. "Exactly, Colonel."
Terry picked himself up, anticipating what was coming. "Oh, and let me guess," he said. "You're going to use us as the scapegoats. You're going to make it look like one of us killed the colonel during his little foray."
"Brilliant, Terry," Brand said. "Your father would be proud of you. Of course, he'll never know."
"Because we'll all be dead. You'll have had to avenge the dear colonel," Terry said.
Brand nodded. "Yes. That should make you happy, Colonel. The troops will love the revenge angle. You've trained them so efficiently on the subject." Brand paused, then added, "And, of course, in the end, I will make over a million dollars."
Brand aimed his machine gun at Joe. One of the other men kept Hammerlock covered. The third man aimed at Terry.
Biff started crawling again. He shouted, "No!" but no one bothered to react to him.
Brand's thin lips pulled up over his large teeth. "Looks like you're on the firing range again, Joseph! Only this time there are no wooden targets. Game's over." He nodded toward the other men. "Ready on the firing line. Ready!" A dra-matic pause for effect, and then the command, "Aim!"
Chapter 17
Frank Hardy's boots slammed into Brand's mouth, driving the last command down his throat. Brand
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