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“Great shot,” Joe said to the archer, whose name was Zech. “There’ll be more spiders coming once they realize that one is gone.”
“We can hit them, too,” Zech said confidently.
Joe hoped so, although he expected the next drones to come in a lot higher and to be toting weapons. Machine guns at least, possibly missiles or grenades.
He looked down the hill. Three wind generators, a large water tank, and a few small Quonset hut–style buildings lay between them and the modern-looking structures at the heart of Vaughn’s compound.
If they were going to draw the Overseer and his dogs out, they needed to press the attack and press it hard. But they had to do so in a way that wouldn’t get Kai’s people massacred.
Joe had an idea. He just hoped Zech wasn’t afraid of heights.
“Spread out and follow me,” he said. “We’re going for the windmills.”
Chapter 53
TAU was aware of the attack on the wall the instant it began. It detected movement through the cameras before they were knocked out. It located hot spots in the jungle with infrared sensors and watched from a more distant camera as the trees were placed against the wall for the men to scamper over the top. It studied crystal clear high-definition video of the attackers taken by the drone—at least until it was knocked out.
“They’re coming in force,” TAU said to Vaughn, who was astonished, and the Overseer, who was irritated. Both had gathered in the control room to review the situation.
“I told you these savages were dangerous,” the Overseer barked. “They’re bloody feral at this point.”
Vaughn shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what they were seeing. He focused on TAU. “Your simulations predicted they would never be more than a nuisance. That we would gather them up and parade them in front of the others once they’d starved half to death. This is out of order. Explain it.”
“Your assessments are erroneous,” TAU replied, rebuking its master and the Overseer simultaneously. “My simulations were done correctly and remain accurate. Nothing about this attack suggests a wildor feral nature. More accurately, this incursion exhibits organization and planning. This suggests a catalyst to their behavior.”
“The Gray Witch,” the Overseer said. “I warned you about her as well. She teaches them things.”
“The Gray Witch is a myth,” TAU said, repeating its oft-spoken line. “I have searched for her and found nothing. All of the human personnel who could have taken on such a role have been exterminated or incorporated. This suggests the clones have received training from a less sensational source.”
With that, an enhanced set of images appeared on the screens. By manipulating the data from several different angles, TAU was able to create an accurate view of the man who seemed to be leading the invasion.
“Jose Zavala, NUMA operative,” the computer announced. “One of the men you’ve tangled with on Reunion and at the shipbreakers in India. Zavala possesses pilot’s credentials and over a thousand hours flying various helicopters. It stood to reason that he was one of the men who approached our coast before getting shot down. Before reaching shore and evading your men on the beach. This possibility has now been proven.”
TAU continued the explanation to make sure everyone in the room knew it was infallible. “The escaped clones have shown only desperation and limited survival skills until now. The introduction of NUMA agents into their midst explains the change in behavior. A factor my simulations were not asked to account for.”
The Overseer fumed. He could barely stand TAU, but that was mere aggravation. NUMA was the real problem. They had been a thorn in his side everywhere he went. He was shocked to imagine they’d made friends with the savages, but then, they did have a common enemy. “Where are they now?”
“Approaching the wind farm,” TAU said.
“From there they can come right down the hill to the testing area and the barracks,” Vaughn noted.
“Statistically speaking,” TAU offered. “Freeing the other test subjects and incorporating those individuals into their attacking force offers them the highest probability of success.”
The Overseer understood this implicitly: it was exactly what he would do if the roles were reversed. “High-leverage play. How many of the little pollywogs are locked up right now?”
“There are fifty-six test subjects in the housing unit,” TAU said.
The Overseer didn’t like where this was going. “How many in their existing war party?”
“Between twenty and thirty.”
The Overseer turned to Vaughn. “Lock down the barracks and burn them to the ground with everyone inside,” he said. “A few grenades and some gasoline should do the trick.”
Vaughn rejected this, not because it was ghastly but because he and TAU needed them to continue the experiments. “Eliminating the subjects would be a waste. It would take a year to rebuild the stock.”
The Overseer narrowed his gaze, looking vicious and disappointed. “You won’t be able to rebuild if those men swarm in here and strangle you.”
Vaughn did not like to be questioned. “You and your men have guns. We have drones armed with automatic weapons and explosive rockets. I will not set us back a year because you’re afraid to confront a few savages. Go and deal with this,” he growled. “That’s what you’re paid for.”