by Mich Moore
spoke to Broussard. "Grab me some candy out of the supply bag."
Broussard reached back and opened Colleen's pack.
The little boy peered through the backseat window. "Is that your dog?" he asked.
"No. He belongs to a friend of mine."
Broussard handed the officer a handful of candy. Cohen then placed the sweets in the children's hands.
"Now be sure to tell you mother where you got these from. Will you do that for me?"
"Yes," they replied in unison, eyes big with joy.
"Good. Now get back inside. It's too early for you to be outside by yourselves."
The children scampered back inside their house.
"They seem like nice kids," Broussard said afterwards. "Why weren't they evacuated?"
"Because the family was targeted for a soft relo. The parents think they've won a free trip to Disney World. They won't be in town when the birds come in. After Crucible, they'll be able to apply for reinstatement if their records stay clean." He pocketed his car keys. "Let's go inside."
They removed Colleen's pack but kept the towel over her as they hurried inside.
Cohen's apartment was a study in adult-onset childhood. There were literally toys everywhere.
The officer led them around. There was a model railroad set up inside the cramped kitchen. Cohen threw the switch, and the engine began a journey that took it around several tiers of tracks on the dining room table. He showed Colleen how the operating levers worked, and soon she was conducting the train by herself.
Afterwards, he took them into his study, where he had a theater of marionettes. Soon Colleen was trying her hand at operating the largest of them. Within minutes she was becoming semi-proficient. A light came on next to her comm screen.
"Something wrong?" Cohen asked Broussard.
"Not at all. She's just sharing this with the other DATs."
"I see."
He brought a new Barbie doll out of a cedar chest and gave it to Colleen. "This is for you, sweetheart."
The DAT stared at it some and then handed it to Broussard. "Please carry this, Uncle Neal."
"Will do," he said and placed the doll in his own backpack.
She turned to Cohen. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he responded. They walked back to the kitchen. "There have been rumors about the AIs for months now. This new stealth weapon. And now I've actually seen one. I feel like I'm dreaming." He gestured towards the shelves of action figures. "When I heard that you were going to be in on Operation Crucible, I ran down to Toys R Us and loaded up."
Broussard was surprised. "Oh, I thought they were yours."
Cohen cocked his head to one side. "Now what would a grown man do with all of these toys?" He checked his watch. "We'd better get back."
Within half an hour they had rejoined their unit. Corporal Butler reported that his team had searched all of the tagged buildings with the exception of one. Sonar results from a sweep conducted two blocks away suggested the possible presence of landmines.
Cohen grew concerned. "We've known for a long time that some of the outlaw militias have been planting mines and IEDs along here. Some of 'em are to keep looters and stab-and-grabbers off their turf. But the majority are for us."
Broussard grew pensive. "I thought you said this place was deserted."
"We rounded up the people who wanted to be rounded up," Cohen said. "Crooks rarely come when called." He faced the corporal. "How many?"
"Maybe five," Corporal Butler answered. "Could be chuckholes. I'm just erring on the side of caution here."
"Right," Cohen said. "Good work."
Broussard stepped forward. "We may be able to help. Colleen is equipped with an EMP dart. It can destabilize any landmine within fifty meters."
"Disable or explode?"
"Either. But I'd probably count on an explosion." He tossed a slight smile at Corporal Butler. "To err on the side of caution."
Cohen thought about it. "I don't believe that we'll attract any attention this far out. Not any legal attention, that is. And it might be a solid test of DAT ability."
"Okay."
"But just so you know, I'm not expecting much."
"O-kay."
Four senior Patriots crawled up from a nearby manhole and joined them on the trek down to the suspect area. Corporal Butler led them to a large intersection of two major thoroughfares. Broad apartment buildings with storefronts at their bottoms lined both streets.
Butler pointed to a slight hump in the road almost centered in the intersection itself. "There." His finger moved. "And there are four more farther north, where that sandwich shop is."
The men moved and stood beside a large dumpster.
Cohen spoke to Broussard. "Why don't you point her down there."
"Right." Broussard knelt down beside the DAT and whispered a command. Butler stepped forward, straining to hear their exchange. Colleen confirmed that she understood her assignment and then walked a bit out onto the sidewalk. Her primary gun, a modified M16 rifle, slid out of her flank bay. There was a small pitot tube-like extension attached to its end and a large dart attached to that.
Broussard leaned in close. "Have you found the target?"
The DAT answered, "Yes."
"Then fire."
The only indication that the gun had fired was a series of soft clicks.
Cohen motioned for everyone to move back.
They waited.
Nothing happened.
Butler signaled to Broussard. "Try it again."
But Broussard shook his head. "Wait."
Colleen watched the intersection. She must have detected something else of interest because she slightly adjusted her sight and fired again. This time there was a reaction. There came a symphony of metallic screams as the entire intersection lifted up high into the air, propelled by a massive cloud of light and flames. It then fell back down into its bed with a dull WHUMP! that shook the entire neighborhood.
The DAT trotted back to Broussard. He took her head in his hands and gave her a kiss on her comm screen. "Good girl!" He shifted his attention to Butler. The corporal was taking in what had just happened. A satisfied smile was just beginning to spread across his face when a bullet tore through it, flinging him backwards.
Lieutenant Cohen leaped forward and began pulling on Butler's body. "GO!" he shouted. The others didn't wait for additional instructions and beat a hasty retreat back down the manhole. Broussard grabbed the DAT and took cover behind the dumpster. He watched as the Beret worked feverishly to staunch the flow of blood pumping out of Butler's face. Meanwhile, a volley of bullets pinged off the dumpster and nearby cars.
Cohen looked up, his hands covered in fluid.
"Get back with the others!" he shouted harshly to Broussard.
But Broussard knew that the two men did not stand a chance of making it back alive without him.
"No!"
He waited for a lull in the gunfire and then dared to peek around the corner. He could see movement in a second story window about half a block down.
"This is scary," he muttered.
Colleen huddled next to him as a new barrage of bullets blew by. Something smacked hard into Broussard's shoulder. He looked down and was shocked to see blood pouring out of a hole just beneath his collarbone. The pain was indescribable. Colleen stood there, bullets whizzing by and into her head and shoulders, staring at him. In an instant she was gone.
"COLLEEN!" he called out after her, his voice lost in the steady tat-tat-tat from the guns.
Cohen was now crouching beside him. "He didn't make it." Even in the darkness, Broussard caught the hurt in the man's eyes. "Where's the robot?"
"I don't know," Broussard said with clenched teeth. "I've been shot."
Cohen examined his wound. "It's a flesh wound. You'll survive. But we've got to get out of here!"
Suddenly the gunfire stopped. The Beret dared to look around the dumpster. A short time passed. And then Broussard heard the officer clearly. "God
almighty."
Broussard dragged himself next to the lieutenant. What he saw almost made him forget about the fire in his shoulder. Colleen was standing in the middle of the street, posed like a gunfighter, pointed towards the suspect second floor. Men could be seen moving behind the windows. Sunlight glinted off of their guns.
Colleen had her grenade launcher out. Just then gunfire erupted from an open window across the street. She was instantly showered with bullets. But the DAT steadfastly stood her ground and calmly took aim. And fired! The grenade shot out in a great arc and landed squarely into the HC nest. The entire front half of the building exploded into chunks of concrete and glass. The remaining assailants poured out from the surrounding structures and into the streets in sheer panic.
The M16 and the grenade launcher slid back into their berths.
Colleen stayed in the street long enough to make sure that the gunfire had stopped for good and then trotted back to Broussard.
"Does the hurt bad, Uncle Neal?"
"No, sweetheart. It isn't bad. Are you ready to go?"
"Are we going home?"
"Soon. We have to stay and help these men, okay?"
Colleen did not reply. The AI began to freeze up as she processed the recent events. Broussard grabbed her remote control from his pocket and was ready to push the OFF button again when she snapped out of her trance and placed her left hand on his.
"No. Please."
"Okay, Colleen. But you cannot process now. We have to get back to the cars. Do you understand?"
But she was already busy staring at the dumpster, eyes blank.
"We'll have to carry her back," he told Cohen. Two Patriots picked up Corporal Butler while two more carried the DAT. The unit made its way back down into the sewer.
They made it back to the cars
