The chopper flew above the forest, its shadow rising and falling with the contours of the tree tops. Right into the lion’s den, Nelson thought to himself. The hills dropped away revealing a small heart-shaped lake.
Nelson looked at his assistant, Pung. “Nervous?”
“Not with them along.” Pung inclined his head toward the two tanks sitting across from them. Powerfully muscled, well armed and armored, the tanks looked back with blank expressions. Company built, company owned, genetically and cybernetically enhanced, the tanks were efficient killing machines.
You should be nervous; David’s killed more people than you’ve shaken hands with. That is, until the company retired him to isolation here in the wilderness. Nelson wished the company regs hadn’t limited him to signing out just two tanks. The corporate policy implied middle management was more expendable than tanks.
Dispatches from Obscurity 