Heading toward the breach and preparing to join "my" squad, I glanced furtively at Foue Eyes. Yes, I would have to watch my back to make sure she didn't pull anything, and it would be best to take the squad out one by one. No—maybe I should have rushed the remaining mercenaries outright, but the Likers around me, even though they'd been thinned out by the fire that spread through the room after the big guy blew himself up, remained a serious obstacle. I had to at least postpone the showdown until we were farther away from here.
Not only could I get shot before I got close to the squad, and I'm not sure I'll survive with a bullet in my head. And even though the scientist-mercenary's relationship with the rest of the squad was, to put it mildly, not very good, in the event of a fight—or rather, its open phase—I couldn't be certain she wouldn't decide to stand up for them by shooting me in the back. Taking them out one by one had a completely different psychological effect, especially if I made her an accomplice.
No, again, I could ignore the infected—there weren't that many here, unless I was missing someone—and rush forward to crush the squad, but I was still in the process of digesting Vector. So, there was no guarantee I wouldn't stumble over the same Lupo, giving a chance to finish me off. After all, the commander and her chain dog were by no means in a strictly professional relationship. And if I did everything quietly and gradually, by the time only Lupo was left (I don't count myself for obvious reasons, and I still needed Foue Eyes), I could calmly wring her neck—or something else; I hadn't figured that part out yet.
"And how should I address you?" Yamata asked, standing a couple of steps away from me.
"For now, Vector," I replied, surprising myself. It seemed I wouldn't have to get used to the role—I'd already acquired the laconic manner of a mercenary, even the intonation.
"Vector, Foue Eyes? You took your time," Lupo said in clipped sentences, glancing at me. I was slightly behind Foue Eyes, making a gesture that meant watching and controlling, after all, Vector had been tasked with keeping an eye on the scientist.
Meanwhile, in my mind I was turning over the spontaneously born name, one that suited me perfectly. I took Jacob's surname—Nightroad. With this deep assimilation, if not Vector's laurels, then at least those of his relative were now mine. We even shared the same blood! Yeah—sarcasm was creeping in again. And remembering everything I'd done, along with the movies about vampires—since I'd compared myself to a ghoul many times before—I decided to take the name of the first such creature: Cain. So, in less than three days, I had a name of my own—Cain Nightroad. Only later did I draw parallels with an existing character… no, there were no real similarities, though I could try that persona on for size.
"It's time to go," said Ghost in his hoarse voice.
Another taciturn creature—but as a potentially dangerous one, he would have to be dealt with first.
"Zinoviev?" I wanted to ask for more details, but the mercenaries, accustomed to my—damn it, Vector's—manner of speaking, understood me from a single word.
"He's gone. Climbed into one of the holes in the ceiling and disappeared silently in that direction. Although the Ghost Sensor is messed up, it clearly showed that the bastard had made it onto the roof. And he was alive, so he got away," Lupo added irritably.
We rushed for the exit—Ghost and Lupo in front, Bertha as the medic in the middle, and Foue Eyes and I bringing up the rear. As we climbed the stairs, I tossed a hand grenade without looking back, aiming precisely at a jagged weakness in the wall I'd noticed earlier. My new reflexes and skills were impressive!
The explosion collapsed the passage behind us, cutting us off from the Likers and our way back. Fine—I didn't need to return anyway. We emerged into the hall where I'd eaten a still-living special forces soldier after crawling out of a service passage hidden beneath the stairs. And hey—they were already waiting for us!
"Where did all these rotten bastards come from? We already cleared this place!" Bertha said irritably. Heh, just say you don't like something, you sadist, when there's someone else here you can chop up.
I quickly took out the nearest pair with my pistol, noting that both bullets hit squarely in the head—though one landed slightly left of where I'd aimed—and kept moving with the others. We crossed the hall in a box formation. These were ordinary zombies, not even redheads, so no one noticed the oddity of the dead not reacting to me. In fact, a couple of zombies ignored us entirely, busy eating the bodies of the special forces. I shot them again with my pistol, without any fuss.
Meanwhile, Lupo and Ghost were clearing the passage ahead under Bertha's cover, while Foue Eyes and I finished off the remaining infected in the hall, securing the squad's rear.
(End of Chapter)
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