‘I won’t,’ he answered, and grabbed Animus’ arm in a similar manner to Frankie. ‘What are you going to do?’
Taking hold of her rifle, she checked the chamber before skipping up and over the railing to stand above the four story drop to the ground floor.
‘Take out the trash,’ she said.
She perched there, unconcerned by the distance to the ground, concentrating on the movement of the Chinese forces, waiting a couple of seconds for just the right moment. When the troopers were in just the right position, she stepped off the edge. Two stories zipped by as she fell between the flights of stairs, her vision fixed on the baluster, the vertical support for the railing she wanted to grab to change her vector.
Less than a second after stepping off the top floor, she grabbed the baluster, her hand sliding down it, slowing her fall a fraction as she swung into the flight of stairs beneath, where she had grabbed the railing support. She counted five troopers in the fraction of a second she had to take in the scene as she brought her foot round in an arc and kicked the man standing behind the leader on the side of his head. He went flying as she let go of the baluster and landed on top of the lead trooper, slamming him into the stairs with a bone-breaking crunch. She then brought her gun up to aim at the third man back from the front. She’d caught them all by surprise with her attack, and he just wasn’t quick enough on the draw to defend himself. She fired a three round burst at him, making his chest, neck, and then head explode with red mist.
Frankie leapt to her left, down the stairs as the other two men fired at her, scattering bullets at where she had been a moment before. Aiming her own gun, she let a flurry of bullets fly at the two remaining soldiers, splattering blood up the walls behind them as they fired back, trying to hit her.
Bullets slammed into the wall beside her as they fell, one of them clipping her upper arm, ripping her synthetic skin and grazing her sub-dermal ballistic polymer.
She waited there for a moment, listening and watching, but these guys were either dead, unconscious, or in the case of the man she landed on, incapacitated and groaning in pain.
‘Bring him down,’ she sent through the link up to her team. They moved down the stairs as quick as they could, taking two or three steps at a time while Frankie watched the bodies of the fallen men she had only hurt and not killed.
‘Holy crap, you did this?’ Animus asked.
Frankie ignored the comment. They could talk later, but, for now, they needed to move.
‘Go on, go,’ she said, urging her team to get going.
Her teammates passed the fight scene without incident and Frankie followed them outside.
The APC stood waiting for them. Gibson guided Animus inside and wasn’t being too gentle about it, shoving him inside and sitting him in a seat.
Frankie strode up to the driver’s side door and opened it up. ‘Move over, I’m driving,’ she said to Jon who had been sitting in that seat. She’d already noticed that Erik had taken up the gunnery position through the hole in the roof while the other two were split between the front and back of the APC.
‘Yeah, bitch, move yo ass,’ Will, who was also in the front, said to his team mate.
‘Funny fucker, hey?’ Jon said in reply.
Frankie closed the door, ignoring them and caught some movement from the corner of her eye. Looking up, she saw the mech that had been at the front of the building, another bipedal digitigrade machine like a tall deformed bird without wings, stalk around the side of the building.
‘Get in, get in, we’re going,’ she shouted and gunned the engine as Cole leapt into the back of the carrier.
The vehicle lurched and lumbered forward as the mech watched them for a second before it, or its driver, realised that this was no longer a friendly vehicle, and, in fact, was now being driven by enemy forces.
Erik on the large calibre rooftop machine gun opened fire, scoring hits on the mech right away, causing it to stumble.
Then the mech fired its own powerful guns, losing a stream of bullets at the APC. The shots made ear-splitting bangs as they hammered the APC’s armour. Suddenly, Frankie noticed their own gun fell silent and there were shouts from the back of the vehicle. She glanced in the mirror to see Erik fall from the gunner's position covered in blood.
She focused back on her driving, cursing the rubbish acceleration of this otherwise beast of a machine. Gathering speed, Frankie aimed it right at the mech, intending to take out its legs. Seeing it coming, the mech moved, attempting to dodge out of the way, but it wasn’t quick enough. Frankie managed to catch only one of the legs of the mech, ripping it clean off as it got caught under the wheel, dragging the mech down with it and smashing it to the concrete floor.
The APC continued up a steep bank and into a field beside the EM building and away, leaving the mech behind. The Chinese forces at the front of the building fired on the APC from their position, managing to score a few hits, but no one was hurt as the carrier bounced over the rough terrain.
Half a minute later, they bumped up over the verge and into the road where the ride immediately felt much smoother.
Finally, the carrier was able to pick up some speed, and, moments later, they were bombing down the road heading south. Frankie checked her map, figuring the best thing was to stick to the main roads and make a loop around the area they had walked through and head back to the tunnel.
Not wanting to slow down, Frankie took a wide arc on the left turn ahead, banking the APC around the ninety-degree bend. She could hear Gibson and the others in the back trying to keep from being thrown around by the momentum, but it was more important to get out of here as quickly as possible.
The carrier barrelled down the eastbound road as Frankie guided it around the larger debris in long sweeping arcs to keep the passengers from being thrown around too much again. She could hear the occasional burst of gunfire as they passed enemy troops. Most of it missed, but a few pings could be heard as the bullets ricocheted off the armour of the APC.
Frankie paid it no mind, though, and concentrated on her driving. The end of the road was quickly approaching, so Frankie slowed it down to make it easier to turn and headed back north to the tunnel.
‘Where are we headed?’ Jon asked.
‘Back where we came; the train tunnel,’ Frankie said.
‘No, no, I have a better idea. You’re going to take a right up here,’ he said. ‘You see that blue sign? Turn right into there, drive to the back and up the bank,’ he said.
As they approached the site of their earlier infiltration, Frankie could hear gunfire still happening up ahead. Were they still fighting on the front-line where they had crossed?
It sounded like they might be. Frankie slowed the vehicle down a touch and banked it wide to her left before she turned it back to the right, pointing it east again to charge through some ruined gates and into another industrial sandpit. She could see at the back of the property the grass verge going up to the highway and the flattened fence that had once marked the rear boundary of the sandpit. Frankie accelerated and guided the carrier around the worst of the bumps before hitting the forty-five degrees upwards slope. The carrier took it all in its stride, though; its momentum carrying it up and over without issue. Frankie could hear the by now familiar sound of bullets hitting their armour as they reached the top of the slope and leapt up onto the highway. Bouncing over the central divide, they then smashed through the barrier on the far side of the highway and shot down the slope back into DU territory, no longer taking enemy gunfire.
Frankie slowed the carrier down and sat back for a moment, taking a breath that she didn’t really need, but if felt good to do it anyway.
‘Nicely done,’ Jon said next to her.
‘I hope you don’t drive like that in Neo-London,’ said Gibson.
Frankie smiled. ‘Only if someone wants to kill me,’ she quipped. ‘Is everyone okay?’
‘Shaken, but still here,’ Veronica said.
‘Good, let’s go and fin
d Dion and Karla,’ Frankie said.
The drive back through the streets to the forward operating base was comparatively uneventful. Jon made sure one of his men was in the gunner’s position, the gun itself pointing harmlessly up to the sky as he waved at any troopers they found, being very aware they were in a stolen Chinese vehicle.
This was nothing new, though. They were always commandeering vehicles from each other and re-painting and re-purposing them for their own needs. This would be no different.
Back at the base, Jon and Will walked up to her as other soldiers took away their dead friend.
‘Thank you for the rescue, you’re all right by me… for a Brit.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she said. ‘Sorry about your friend.’
‘Thanks,’ Jon said.
‘You’ve got some moves on ya, girl,’ Will added.
‘Not bad for a bitch, then?’ she joked.
‘Hell, you’re the queen bitch,’ he answered.
‘Hah, thanks. I think,’ she said. ‘Huh, I think I’ve read that before somewhere,’ she muttered to herself.
‘Look, we’ve gotta go. They’ll want a report on what happened to Erik and us. Any time you’re back in the US, look us up if you need any assistance. We’ve got your back. All right?’
‘Thank you, I appreciate it,’ she said and watched them walk off beside the stretcher that carried Erik. Frankie felt sorry for them and wished she could have done more, but they would surely be aware of the risks they were taking being a part of this war.
She watched them go for a moment before she turned back to her friends and the activist they had liberated from behind enemy lines. She hoped he was worth it. She noticed Karla and Dion step out of the building and walk over to them.
‘You got him. Thank you,’ she said. ‘Animus, thank god, I thought you had taken a step too far this time. You can’t do that to me.’
‘I was all right, and thanks to these guys, I’m alive and well,’ he said.
‘Our pleasure, I’m sure, but we came here for a reason,’ Frankie said.
‘Absolutely, I hear you want something in return for getting me out of there? Is that right?’ Animus said.
‘That’s correct. We just need some information,’ Frankie said.
‘Sure, anything. If I can help you, I will,’ he said.
‘We’re looking for a man known as Janus, and we were hoping you might be able to help us out. We’ve heard that you are in contact with him?’ Frankie said.
‘I thought as much. Well, kind of. I have been in touch with him and I have met him, but I don’t have his number or anything if that’s what you want,’ he said.
‘We just need to find him. It’s important,’ Frankie pressed.
‘Oh, it’s always important where Janus is concerned.’
‘Can you help us?’
Animus seemed to think it over for a moment. ‘Yeah, sure. I can. Look, I’ve met him, like I said, but it was always through someone else. A woman called Alana, actually. She’s been on the run from the Corps for years, was here long before Janus or me. She helped us get set up here. She will know where to find Janus; she knows everyone here.’
‘He’s in Salt Lake City?’ Frankie said, surprised.
‘He is, yes, but only Alana knows where.’
‘Alana? You’re sure about this?’ Frankie asked.
‘Absolutely. I call her my fixer. She finds whatever you need and sorts things out. She knows a lot of people and just gets stuff done, you know. Kind of a useful person to know really when you’re out here in a warzone,’ Animus said.
‘And can you set up a meeting with her for us?’ Frankie asked.
‘I would have thought so, yes. When’s good for you?
‘Now,’ Frankie said.
‘Now? Oh, all right, let me see what I can do,’ he said and moved away from the group.
‘Hey, is that yours?’ said a voice nearby.
They turned to see an Army officer pointing at the APC.
‘It sure is,’ Frankie said, pride in her voice.
‘Then get it painted. We don’t want vehicles with Chinese flags on them driving about in here,’ he barked.
‘Yes, sir,’ Karla said, saluting him. She then turned back to the group. ‘I’ll get some paint,’ she muttered and ran off.
Frankie watched her go and then looked back over to Animus. He was deep in conversation now on his Pad. He would probably be talking to Alana, trying to convince her to meet and to get it arranged for today. At least, that was the hope.
‘Do you think this is going to work?’ Gibson said.
‘I have no idea. Every time we reach the next link in the chain, we find out there’s another one before we get to this Janus. At this point, I have no idea if we will or not.’
‘We will, I’m sure of it,’ Dion said.
‘I like your optimism,’ Frankie commented.
‘I only know Animus from his online persona, but he’s always been honest. That’s kind of his thing: telling the truth no matter how horrible or hard to hear it is. So, I can’t see him lying about this. It goes against everything he stands for.’
‘Well, let’s hope you’re right,’ Frankie said.
Karla returned with a couple of guys in tow carrying pots of grey paint and walked over to the APC.
‘You want some help with that?’ Frankie asked.
‘No, we’re good. Won’t take us long,’ Karla said as they set to work painting out the Chinese iconography.
Movement to her right caught her attention, so Frankie looked up to see Animus walking back to them.
‘Looks like we have ourselves a meeting to get to. Alana is happy to meet up. She’s in the centre of town, so if we can get there in about half an hour she thinks she can set up the meeting,’ Animus said.
‘Thinks?’ Frankie asked.
‘Best I can do, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘She’s always been a touch sketchy on these things. Client confidentiality and all that, I think.’
‘Well, I didn’t walk through all that gunfire for nothing. We’d best get moving,’ she said. ‘You about there?’ Frankie asked Karla.
‘Just about, yes,’ she said as she finished off covering up another obviously Chinese logo.
‘Are you coming with us this time?’
‘Where are you going, now?’ Karla asked.
‘The centre of town, apparently.’
‘If Animus is going, then I’m going,’ she answered.
‘All right, let’s go,’ Frankie said.
Ω
‘Pull in here,’ Animus called out, pointing to the side of the street. ‘She said she’d meet us here.’
Frankie pulled the carrier over and brought it to a stop, the brakes squeaking as it slowed. They were in downtown Salt Lake City, now, about three miles from the frontline at its closest point, and although you couldn’t say it was a busy city, there were a few more people here than Frankie had thought there would be. People still went about their business, despite the buildings having been pummelled with gunfire and rockets leaving the streets littered with debris and fallen bits of rubble and steel.
She spotted a few open shops, street vendors, and more than a few people going about their business. There was a strong military presence throughout the city, too, although, it lessened the further away from the frontline you got to the point where she couldn’t spot a soldier on the street from where she sat in the APC.
‘Is this where we’ll meet her?’ Frankie asked.
‘That’s what she said; just south of Main Street and Temple, so, I doubt she’ll be far away,’ Animus said.
‘Okay,’ Frankie said and opened the door. She stepped down onto the sidewalk and let Animus climb down after her.
‘What brought you out here, then? To report on the war and nearly get yourself killed?’
‘Someone needs to show the world what’s actually happening here, and that’s me. This war has been perpetuated by the Corporate backers of
the various sides, pushing them to continue the fighting.’
‘So, you’re saying that if the financiers were removed, the war would what? End?’ Frankie asked.
‘It’s gone too far for it to just end, but there’s a lot of money to be made from war. The soldiers need weapons, armour, vehicles, ammunition, medical equipment, you name it. Someone has to provide that to them. The American forces can’t be seen to be using out of date equipment either, and then there’s the research and development that the war necessitates - the quest for weapons that are better at killing people.’
‘Cybernetic’s too, at a guess?’ Frankie asked.
‘Absolutely. These days, if the soldier ain’t dead, he’s enhanced, given replacement parts and sent back in faster and stronger than he was before. But what happens when the war’s over? How do these killing machines with built-in machine guns adjust to normal society? How do they live a normal life?’
‘I guess most of them don’t,’ Frankie said.
‘And you’d be right. There’s already a massive anti-augmentation movement in the south with religious groups saying that we shouldn’t be playing God with these people. Of course, the Confederate military still augments its soldiers. They’re still beholden to the Corporations, but many of the soldiers coming back from the frontlines find their lives difficult. Some of them even flee north into the DU or Canada,’ Animus said.
‘Sounds like it’s all something of a mess,’ Frankie commented.
‘That’s an understatement,’ Karla said.
‘You’re not wrong,’ Animus answered Frankie. ‘But the mainstream media don’t cover this. They’re under the control of the Corps as well, so this kind of thing doesn’t get reported or is spun in such a way as to be not detrimental to the Corps. I fill that gap.’
‘Animus, investigative reporter. Do people trust you with a hacker name like that?’ Gibson asked. He’d been stood close by, listening in.
‘I have a name, but what I report can get me killed, so I use an alias and never show my face on my reports.’
‘Oh, I get it. Don’t worry, I understand why you do it,’ Gibson said.
Promethean Files 2: The Prometheus Gambit Page 12
