Jason Frost - Warlord 05 - Terminal Island by Jason Frost - Warlord 05 Page A

But if revenge was all that drove him, was Tim really any better off with him than with Fallows?
    “Let’s go,” Eric said.
    Dr. Chen led them across the zoo, keeping the paths that she said the animals that were loose usually didn’t bother coming near because there was no food.
    As they walked, Dr. Chen and Spock in the lead, D.B. fell in beside Eric.
    “He wouldn’t even be asking,” D.B. said.
    “What?”
    “Fallows. He wouldn’t even be asking himself the questions you are.”
    Eric didn’t look at her. “You don’t know him.”
    “Don’t I?” She gripped her choke collar tightly, her knuckles white under the pressure. “He’s like the men who put this on me. I know men like that. I know.”
    Eric walked on without saying anything. Then he looked at her with a small smile. “When’d you get so damn wise.”
    “Always have been,” she said. “You just never noticed.”
     
    “Hey, man, talk some sense into this lady.”
    “Yeah. Let us outta here.”
    Eric looked at the two men standing with their faces pressed up against the wire mesh. One was black, the other white. They wore chambray shirts and dungarees, the uniforms of navy men in active service. The badge on their sleeves showed two dolphins standing on either side of a submarine. The white man was big and beefy, with puffed jowls and tiny pinpoint eyes. He wore a petty officer’s stripes. The black man was tall and thin and had to stoop slightly in the six-foot cage. He had only one chevron on his sleeve.
    They were inside the Primate Propagation Center.
    The two men stared out at the four of them with a cold malignant gaze they were unsuccessful in concealing.
    “What the fuck’s going on?” the white petty officer asked.
    “Trespassing,” Eric said. “Didn’t you read the signs? It’s illegal.”
    The petty officer spat on the floor of the cage. “Shit, man, there ain’t no more laws. Me and Washington here just got lost. We were hungry.” He grinned, his lips pulling back to reveal square chunky teeth similar to Spock’s. “Okay, maybe we was wrong coming in here to the little lady’s private game reserve. We didn’t know.”
    Eric looked at the black man. “What’s your name?”
    “Seaman Monroe Adams Washington.” He shrugged and grinned. “My mama tried to cram as many presidents into my name as possible. My brother Lyndon’s even worse off.”
    Eric smiled. “He in the navy too?”
    “Marines. Figured they get all the chicks.”
    “Not all,” the petty officer winked.
    Eric inspected both men, pacing back and forth in front of the cage. “How long have you had them?” he asked Dr. Chen.
    “Five fucking days!” the petty officer said. “We been cooped up in this pen for five days. We gotta piss and crap in a goddamn can that she don’t empty but once a day. It’s goddamn humiliating.”
    Eric turned to D.B. “Take Spock outside and wait.”
    “Will he go with me?” she asked Dr. Chen.
    “Sure. Take his hand and lead him. If he gets restless, keep tickling him. He can take that for hours.”
    D.B. took the ape’s hand. “Come on, Spock. Time to beam aboard.” They left.
    “Look it that,” the petty officer said. “They let the goddamn ape go waltzing around while we stay locked up in a fucking cage.”
    “The ape,” Dr. Chen said, “is a vegetarian. They don’t eat animals.”
    Washington shook his head. “Look, lady, we know we made a mistake. We only want to get out of here and back to our home. We got family.” He looked at Eric. “You look like you understand. Help us out, mister.”
    “Where’s your home?” Eric asked.
    “Well it used to be on board the Dakota . Slickest damn sub you ever seen. We were docked in San Diego for some repairs when the quakes hit. Ocean churned up so much it tore the sub in two like it was some toy you get out of a cereal box.”
    “Where do you live now?” Eric persisted.
    “South,” the petty officer. “That’s all you need to