When he looked up, Heretic was locked in combat with Shinigami, who wielded a laser-edged katana with skill that at least matched her enemy. Her cyber-blade met his blades of flame with blinding flashes, the opposing energy sizzling with every clash. Just beyond them, Vigil caught a glimmer of gold—Janus surrounded by a squad of white-armored bodyguards that moved with the mechanical fluidity of synthetics. Faces covered by featureless masks, they fought their way to the exit doors.
Vigil unslung the Charon rifle from his back and opened fire, weaving back and forth between bodies as he shot. A few of his rounds found their mark, the railgun rounds punching through two of Janus' guards. Leaping over a fallen officer, Vigil aimed again.
The rifle was ripped from his hands with irresistible force. Something seized him by the harness straps and slammed him into the wall so hard the sheetrock crumpled, showering chalky dust on his head and shoulders. He looked up into the alloyed features of Isaac, who glowered with electronic eyes.
"You."
Vigil struggled against the formidable grip that held him. "What are you doing? We're on the same side."
"No, we're not. We never were."
A forestalling hand dropped on Isaac's arm. "We don't have time for this, Isaac. Janus is getting away."
Ronnie's voice was muffled by the riot gear helmet that hid her features. Isaac gave Vigil a final stare before lowering him and following his partner. Vigil watched them go, breathing heavily. His visor flickered as the digital system flickered back online, rebooting his g-spans and armor enhancements. Shinigami fell to the ground a few yards away, holding the bloodied stump of an arm that Heretic just severed. Turning away, he cut his way through a line of Hellhounds before nearly catching up to Janus and his bodyguards. Ronnie and her surviving squad of officers converged at the same time, shouting and aiming their weapons. Heretic glanced at them, then at the fleeing Janus.
His sword flashed. A trooper toppled, nearly cut in two. Ronnie shouted something, but her voice was drowned out. Isaac swung at Heretic, who leaped backward. His fiery blades flashed again, striking Isaac's arm in a shower of sparks. Ronnie led her officers past, heading after Janus. Heretic's head swiveled, tracking her movements. His other arm raised a second blade.
Vigil fired repulsor blasts, striking Heretic directly in the chest. The swords winked out of existence when Heretic soared backward, slamming into the opposite wall.
Janus had nearly made it to the exit when the Stingray dropped into window view outside, searchlight beam illuminating the room. A gatling on its chassis fired ion rounds, scoring precise hits on the synthetic bodyguards. They scattered to regroup or fell where they stood. Janus dropped low, scrambling on all fours to avoid the barrage. When he looked up, Ronnie and Isaac stared down at him, weapons pointed. Isaac hauled him up, and they retreated, regrouping with the remaining troopers, who formed a protective circle as they left the hall.
The last of the GRP soldiers and Hellhounds moved warily around Vigil, who circled with charged fists clenched, visor pulsing scarlet light. "You ready to finish this? Come on!"
They charged, yelling when they closed in. Vigil assumed close-quarters combat tactics—quick repulsor blasts followed by combinations of swift and brutal strikes to vulnerable points. It wasn't fast enough. His attackers seemed spurred by desperation and fury, fighting back just as viciously. He felt several injuries threaten to push the battle in their favor—stab wounds that made it past his armor, contusions from being shot, shrapnel from the explosion. The Stingray still hovered outside, but he knew Spitfire wouldn't fire out of fear of hitting him. It was only a matter of time before the sheer numbers won out...
A flash of light. The crackle of heated blades. Vigil fought with renewed strength, knowing the tide had turned. Heretic joined the fray, fighting back-to-back with Vigil as if they'd done so many times before. It was a deadly tango of violence that brought the fight to a swift end as their combatants lost their appetite for battle. They quickly fell back, covering their retreat with sporadic bursts of poorly-aimed gunfire as Spitfire picked off stragglers with pinpoint aim from the Stingray. Vigil ignored the chaos, turning to Heretic with a charged fist at the ready.
"Killing cops? What the hell were you thinking?"
Heretic's voice rumbled from his helmet like angry thunder. "I should have struck you down along with the rest of these criminals. The trooper I cut down wasn't even human."
"What the hell are you saying?"
Heretic angrily gestured to the body, where the charred innards revealed scorched cables and wires. "Shock trooper—merely an automaton. I would have only wounded the human officers, but your interference will cost them their lives."
Vigil found his rifle and slung it over his shoulder. "What are you talking about? Janus is the key, and he's in their custody. If anything, that's a win."
Heretic shook his head. "You have no idea what devils you fight against. Janus' cultists are at the cusp of their attempt at godhood, and they will stop at nothing to achieve their goal. I hope you aren't close to any of the officers that just left. Because of your actions, they were dead the moment you allowed them to walk out of here with Janus still breathing."
Ⓥ
The prisoner transport van hurtled down the street—sirens wailing, lights flashing, tires squealing. Not waiting for traffic to clear, they swung onto the main avenue, scattering other vehicles, precariously tilting on two wheels before the van righted itself. Ronnie hung on to the overhead strap to keep from tumbling over. She threw a quick glance at Janus, who sat still where he was handcuffed to the seat. His eternally grinning mask seemed to mock her when he returned her gaze, eyes barely visible from the blackened sockets. He hadn't spoken since his capture, but didn't appear at all disturbed. He looked as relaxed as one could be in a careening hunk of wheeled armor, sitting comfortably as if on public transportation despite the two black-armored troopers seated on either side of him.
Ronnie glanced at Isaac. "Our guy is putting on a brave face."
Isaac grunted. "Easy to do with a mask on."
"Tell me about it. Unfortunately, it's locked in place, so we'll have to wait until we get to the precinct before we can take a look under the hood."
Isaac's head jerked when the side of the vehicle was rocked by a salvo of gunfire. "If we get there."
Ronnie synchronized her holoband to the van's exterior cameras, flicking the screens to each wall to get a panoramic view of their surroundings. The transport hurtled through the Brickland streets on a course to Precinct 51 on the other side of the district. Grim Reaper Posse soldiers on zip bikes closed in on either side of the van. The slim flying cycles didn't have to compensate for traffic, so they freely took potshots at the police vehicle.
"Good thing their rounds aren't armor-piercing," she said, hitting the Emergency button on the wall. "I'm calling in some backup."
Isaac pointed to the screen on the van doors. "I think they're just trying to slow us down for the main attraction."
A military-style LAV mowed down cars in its path as it caught up to the police transport. Its eight heavy-tread wheels made it no problem to roll right over the cars it plowed into. The unlucky vehicles crumpled like soda cans, raining sparks as they slammed into one another or against the sides of street-side buildings. As the LAV continued onward, the turret-mounted autocannon fired a blazing burst of 25 mm rounds with a thunderous roar.
The doors of the police transport buckled from the force of the bombardment. The driver swerved wildly to avoid a second barrage. Ronnie hung on for dear life, watching helplessly as the LAV continued its demolition derby style of pursuit, simply crushing other vehicles in the way. A large grappling hook mounted on the side of the hull fired, punching right through the battered transport doors with a screech of twisted metal. The cable retracted, ripping the doors from the hinges. Hot air rushed in, battering Ronnie. She motioned to the troopers, who lifted their rifles and unloaded on the LAV with deafening bursts of gunfire. The
rounds ricocheted harmlessly off the vehicle's armored hide as it closed in, engine growling.
Isaac glanced at her. "Finish the mission, Captain."
Before she could answer, he launched himself out the damaged doorway, smashing into the LAV's front hull with a crunching sound. The vehicle swerved, trying to shake him loose. Panels in his arm slid open and rearranged as it took shape as a mech cannon. Releasing his hold on the hull, he hit the street, slid under the vehicle, and fired a booming shot at the exposed chassis. The explosion lifted the LAV off the ground, several wheels flying in different directions. The vehicle slammed on its side and skidded, showering sparks and broken pieces of the undercarriage and suspension. Any sign of Isaac was lost in the billowing smoke.
Ronnie dismissed her worries, focusing on the zip bikes closing in from either side. Each had two riders—one piloting and the other manning a mounted gun on the rear of the bike. Ronnie knelt, using the remaining door frame for cover while she exchanged volleys of gunfire with the flying attackers.
"Aim at the pilots!"
One of her troopers took a shot to the chest that slammed him into the van wall. Losing his balance, he fell out of the van and skidded across the asphalt. Gritting her teeth, Ronnie squinted into the wind and lined up her handgun, firing at the nearest zip pilot. He ducked away from her shots but lost control of his bike. Clipping a delivery truck, the cycle whirled in a tailspin before slamming into a building with explosive force. The trooper on the other side scored several shots on the other zip pilot, who fell from his seat and turned into pulp on the sidewalk. The zip bike and mounted gunman plowed into the street and exploded in a brilliant cloud of searing flame.
Ronnie pumped her fist as the transport van continued to roll toward the precinct. She glanced at Janus. "Looks like your people lost this one."
He finally spoke, voice scornful through the leering mask. "You should have fastened your seat belt."
When she followed his gaze, she saw the rocket fire from a building rooftop just before it struck the wheels of the vehicle. The explosion threw her against the side of the van, crushing the breath from her lungs. The world turned upside down, flashes of buildings and wildly swerving vehicles blurred by, scorched metal stung her nostrils, smoke filled the interior of the van, choking her. The trooper was flung from the vehicle, flying into the street and out her line of sight. The van finally slammed against something solid, jarring her so hard that her vision blurred. Gasping, she looked for Janus. He was still secured to the seat, slumped uncomfortably on his side. His eyes looked outside expectantly.
She pushed herself up in time to see an armored figure land on the street with so much force that the surface splintered. For a bewildering second, she thought it was Vigil. But the armor was completely different—some sort of exoskeletal frame over sleek, gleaming segmented plate. The sinister appearance was completed by a hooded cloak that partially concealed a mask fashioned into a gleaming silver skull.
He glanced down at her, eyes hidden in the deep sockets of his ghoulish helmet. She couldn't shake the feeling that he knew exactly who she was and weighed his options accordingly. Her hand strayed toward the pistol holstered on her leg. He pointed a long-barreled handgun at her, shaking a scolding finger.
"Bad move."
The blaster fired three times. The rounds struck like heavy punches to her chest, knocking her on her back. As she writhed and struggled to breathe, the skull-masked man strode past, cut through Janus' cuffs with a shoulder-mounted laser, and hauled him to his feet. Through her haze of pain, Ronnie faintly heard Janus speak.
"Was that necessary? You could have killed me."
The other man responded in a cold, mechanical voice. "You're lucky I came for you at all."
"You had to. I'm the only one equipped to harness the aberrant fields."
"Which is the only reason you're still alive."
Their voices faded. Ronnie scrabbled on her back, gritting her teeth from the unbearable fire that blazed across her torso. Ripping free of her armored vest, she clutched her chest, stifling a sob when her fingers came away red with blood. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she was hot. So hot. Sweat slicked her face and dampened her clothes; her throat was parched as desert sand. Her vision filmed over, turning the view of heat-hazed buildings into rippling shades of red that darkened with every quivery breath. The last thing she heard was sirens and the sound of approaching vehicles before everything went black.
Chapter 17: Alliances
The portable hangar was located in the worst area of Brickland, converted from an elevator house on the roof of one of the many abandoned tenement buildings in the area. The cramped unit was usually reserved for Vigil alone, but necessity forced him to temporarily shelter Spitfire and one especially unwelcome guest.
Heretic leaned against the wall, arms folded as he scanned the hangar. With his face enveloped by his helmet, there was no way to read his expression. His cavernous voice echoed in the room. "I would never have guessed you had a safe house here."
Spitfire sat on the workbench, legs dangling as she glowered with narrowed eyes. "That's the point, yo. You lucky we let you come in."
"I didn't ask. I was invited."
Vigil looked up from his inspection of the weapons locker. "Only because the entire District is swamped with RCE units."
"Why do you care?"
"I don't. But we share a common enemy and need to put our differences aside."
"You're the one who interrupted when I had things handled."
"You were fighting cops."
"Only because they were in the way of me killing Janus."
"Yeah, that was a bad idea, too."
"According to you."
"According to me because I'm looking at the bigger picture. Janus might be a mastermind, but Diabolis won't die if he does. New leadership will rise, and it'll be business as usual. I want to take them all out, not just one."
Heretic paced the floor, tunic fluttering with his agitated steps. "That's a … bold strategy."
Spitfire smirked. "Yeah, bet you wish you thought of it first."
Vigil waved her off, looking at Heretic. "We need to pool our resources and intel. Work together to bring not just Janus but the entire Diabolis organization down. They're the ghost syndicate, involved in everything but accountable to no one. It all comes down to Styx, whatever that is. Eight Baller told me it was some kind of cult. Whoever they are, he was terrified. Said they were fixated on death or something."
Heretic stopped in mid-stride. "Not death. Immortality."
"What? In Greek myth, Styx is the river to the underworld."
"Yes. But it also possessed miraculous powers. Like when Achilles' mother dipped him in the waters as a child. He became an invulnerable warrior soon after."
"Well, except for his heel."
"Only because it was the only part not immersed. His mother held him by the heel."
Spitfire frowned. "What's the mythology lesson got to do with Janus?"
Heretic turned to her. "His goal is the same. But instead of a mythical river, he's using psionic energy to accomplish his evil designs."
Vigil paused in the act of holstering a neothermic handgun. "Psionic energy? So that's what Mister Sister meant."
"Who?"
"A Diabolis lieutenant. She said the Amnesia wasn't the point. It was the power of the mind."
"Exactly. Janus leads a cult of very powerful people who want the only thing they don't possess: immortality. They are obsessed with the study of aberrant fields, believing them to be the key to their pursuit of godhood."
Vigil felt his chest tighten. "Aberrant fields."
Spitfire gave him a quizzical glance. "What's that?"
Easing onto a metal stool, he stared into the distance as the memories flicked across his mind. "It's what broke the world. It gave Imperials their powers. It tore holes in reality. And ultimately, it caused the Cataclysm. Cutting out the confusing stuff, it was psionic power amplified by a
form of fusion. When it didn't kill people by the billions, it granted a select few unimaginable powers."
Her eyes widened. "And this dude wants to try to copy that?"
"Now you understand the severity of the situation," Heretic said. "Janus is on the cusp of harvesting the energy he thinks will grant him powers beyond anything seen since the Imperial age. His followers will probably replicate the process if successful, creating an entire race of abominations. And you stopped me from killing him when I had a chance."
Vigil stood, folding his arms. "No regrets. Killing him won't stop his people from pushing forward. We need to take them all down. There has to be an endgame, otherwise what's the point?"
Incognito buzzed over the com. "I have bad news, Vigil. The RCE transport was taken out. Janus is in the wind."
Vigil glanced at Heretic and walked a few steps away, lowering his voice. "What about … the officers?"
"You mean Captain Banks? I don't know. It just happened, so everything is static right now. But you can't worry about her right now, Vigil."
"Damned if I can't."
"You're not her guardian angel. Besides, she has that big robot partner watching her back."
"He wasn't enough last time."
"Nothing is ever enough, Vigil. But with Janus on the lam, there's a lot more at risk if what Heretic says is true."
"You were listening?"
"I'm always listening. Least I can do in my position. Now, it's your turn. So listen when I tell you that you can't go looking for your lady friend. She's fine, or she's not. Either way, you're too late to do anything about it."
Vigil's fist clenched. "Damn it."
Vigil: Inferno Season (The Cyber Knight Chronicles Book 2) Page 24
