“Swigger. Where’d you come from?”
“My squad caught up,” Swigger said, pulling her along. “We need to go. Come on.”
“The tank!” Lynch shouted from ahead.
Clio turned and caught sight of Sai Nakamura. He rode the colossal beast like an animal handler out of an old film. He stabbed with his blinding-white starblade, pulling himself closer to the creature’s black-horned head with each strike. The monster reeled and smashed into the wall by the hangar gate, support beams groaning under its might. The Chit tank crashed back to the ground on all six legs. Nakamura leaped from the crest of its thorax and plunged his burning blade into the back of its armored skull. He wedged himself against a horn as he repeatedly stabbed and slashed. A steaming spray of white erupted, and the creature let out a thunderous roar as it slumped forward.
Clio watched as Nakamura rolled off the Chit. He looked severely injured and lay on his side, breathing hard. Clio didn’t think he would get back up again, but the Aegis amazed her once again when he slowly struggled to his feet.
Behind Nakamura, the tank did the same.
Clio called out, and the Aegis spun on his heel as the mammoth Chit launched. Its giant mandibles snapped around his middle and lifted him into the air. Nakamura forced his one hand and his stump between the pincers. His body shook as the deadly beak-like weapons slowly parted.
The tank fiercely shook its head from side to side.
The Aegis tore in two, his remains tumbling through the air.
Clio screamed as she opened fire on the beast. It roared again, and the hangar floor rocked. Another split parted the ground and a tentacle burst through, whipping at her and knocking the gun from her hands.
She pulled the black elite sword from the makeshift sheath on her shoulder. The tentacle lashed out again and Clio lopped off its clawed end. The stump sprayed white and purple as it retreated underground.
The tank shrieked, and more barbed tentacles exploded from the ground around her, whipping and slashing. Two tore at a Marine and Clio ducked as he inadvertently opened fire on his comrades.
Another black snake exploded through the front of her left thigh, bringing the pain from the Bakura wreckage rushing back sevenfold. Booster appeared from over her shoulder and jumped onto the slithering tendril, sinking claws and fangs into the dark flesh. Before she could recover from the shock, the tentacle lifted her into the air and flung them both across the bay.
Clio crashed on her back, jarring her completely. Her left leg burned with agony. She fought down panic as she looked around for Booster. The puck lay just out of reach, one of his arms bloodied and twisted at an odd angle. His battered little body lay motionless.
“Booster!” She screamed frantically, ignoring the chaos around her.
Booster didn’t respond.
She fought down panic and pumped a medshot into her TEK’s injection-port. She closed her eyes and forced herself not to scream until the concoction took effect. To her relief, it spread through her body almost instantly. She looked about for cover and found a crane located about forty feet away. It was a long way to crawl. As the injection dulled the pain, Clio got ready to make her way to cover as fast as she could manage in her condition. Her left leg was nothing but a useless weight dragging behind her as she rolled onto her stomach.
She pushed with her right leg and reached out for Booster. Her joints stiffened and her TEK suddenly felt much heavier. The lights in her visor went out. Her exoframe had run out of juice.
40
Tools Of The Trade
Grimshaw cursed as he loaded a new magazine. The plan had been working for a change, until the enormous creature showed up. This tank made the one Eline had taken down look like an infant. Its ability to cause quakes had halted the column’s advance.
Nakamura’s sacrifice had bought them some time, but it wasn’t enough. The tank’s tentacles barred the way to Project Zero. The flames on the right blocked the approaching swarm, but beyond the fiery wall, the Chits buzzed frantically, anxious to break through. Gunfire surrounded Grimshaw as the black whips decimated anything and anyone they struck.
A barbed tendril lashed at him. He sidestepped just in time and emptied a full magazine into the black flesh before it would stop moving. He reloaded and rolled under another that whipped at his face.
“Use your blades,” Kobol called. “The bastards take too much firepower.”
It was as if the Captain had read his mind.
Grimshaw swapped his long knife out and circled the nearest slithering snake. The tentacle was distracted by a Marine dealing with another tendril, as if it had a mind of its own. Before it could launch at the preoccupied man, Grimshaw chopped with his blade. It cut halfway through the soft flesh, and the tentacle snapped back, flinging him across the ground toward the nearest production line. He crashed to stop and rolled onto his side.
He was about to get up when the shrinking firewall caught his attention. The buzzers had started sacrificing themselves to douse the blaze. Dark forms moved in the heat, and a full squad of elites emerged from the flames, weapons blazing. Grimshaw scrambled for a stack of crates as red plasma rained down around him. He leaned from behind cover and returned fire as a freight forklift plowed into the black alien soldiers, crushing them.
Grimshaw squinted and saw Briggs behind the wheel. The comms officer jumped from the vehicle and ran toward him.
Holes exploded from his chest, and his smoking corpse crashed onto a pallet, revealing that more elites had made it through the flames behind him.
“Elites to the right!” The vox was all but dead, and Grimshaw doubted anyone would hear over the noise. “Elites to the right!”
A bolt of plasma struck Grimshaw’s shoulder and sent him spinning back behind the crates. His shield dropped to twenty-four percent. He leaned out and returned fire at the nearest elite, forcing it back several steps and knocking its weapon free. It advanced regardless. Grimshaw’s rifle overheated as the Chit descended. He cast the weapon aside and reached for his knife, forgetting he’d lost it to the tentacle.
The Chit’s shoulder hammered into Grimshaw’s chest. He crashed through a stack of containers and his tactical exoframe crunched into a workbench. The eight-foot elite came at him again, clawed hands slashing.
Grimshaw rolled sideways, and one of its forearms got lodged between two workbench surfaces. Grimshaw looked around for anything he could use as a weapon and snatched a Muller plasma drill from a tool rack. He pulled the trigger, and the core screeched loudly as the diamond tip spewed a white arc. Grimshaw dove at the elite. The creature threw up its free arms, but the long plasma bit melted through layers of armor and flesh and drove straight into its helmet.
Take that, you son of a bitch!
The dead elite slumped against the workbench, still propped up by its trapped arm.
Grimshaw took a second to catch his breath. He pulled out his blaster and stumbled back into the ship-bay. A few remaining Marines continued to battle with tentacles and enemy fire. Through stacked equipment, he saw that Kobol and Wallace had retreated to cover with the civilians. He called out to them on the crackling vox, but no one answered. Damn elites are too close.
There wasn’t much the Marine commander could do without a clear path to Project Zero. Heavy footfalls sounded behind Grimshaw, and he turned as another hulking elite emerged from the heavy machinery. Before he could raise his gun, plasma blasted him in the chest and sent him onto his back. A red warning flashed in the corner of his visor: Shield Failure.
41
High Roller
Randai picked his way out of the rubble and fetched his rifle, attaching it to the maglock on his shoulder blade. He shook himself off, and satisfied with his TEK’s levels, hurried to the vehicle he’d parked several blocks away as instructed.
A rough plan formed in his head as he ran. It involved single-handedly storming the White Dragons fortress. He knew the idea was insane, but he tried to justify it anyway. Using the e
xplosives Zora had included in the field pack, he’d create a distraction. The field pack also contained smoke bombs, rope, flares, a tool-kit, and extra Twin Viper ammunition, as if Zora somehow knew exactly what he would need.
He flicked through the data she’d given him in case he’d missed something vital, but the last instructions directed him to the window in the dilapidated store. Randai couldn’t put his finger on it but going after Zora felt like his only option, like something beckoned him from within. He had decided to let his gut lead the way and it was driving him straight into the dragon’s maw.
Randai fetched the field pack from the trunk and synchronized the bombs with their detonator. He tied the flares to the bundle using the rope and secured the explosive package under the passenger seat. He stashed everything else, including the detonator, into his utility belt and climbed into the driver’s seat.
The vehicle sped through Bometown’s streets until he arrived at the mile-long avenue, directly under the window he’d crouched in minutes before. Randai linked the vehicle’s controls to his SIG and climbed into the trunk. Using his terminal, he drove it in a straight line toward the White Dragons checkpoint gate.
As it sped down the avenue bullets hammered into the front of the car. A bolt of plasma punched through several layers of metal and whizzed by Randai’s head, coming a little too close for comfort. When it reached the gate, Randai activated his phantom-drive and leaped from the back, crashing into the ground next to the gatehouse. The car smashed through the barrier and overturned as it hit the steps leading to the building’s entrance. The Vargs continued firing until the vehicle went up in flames.
Too much light shone outside the compound for his phantom-drive to work sufficiently, but the Vargs were so fixated by the car that he hadn’t been noticed. A few dozen guards approached the flaming wreck, and one leaned to look through a smashed window. Randai took cover behind the guardhouse and pressed the detonator.
An immense eruption rattled the courtyard as countless windows shattered. A rising yellow glow bathed nearby buildings. The heat wave washed over Randai, and his TEK went into overdrive to counteract the blast. He looked from behind the guardhouse as smoke bellowed into the grounds and red sparks exploded above a small crater surrounded by Varg husks.
Randai ran into the smokescreen as a flaming guard emerged, squealing like a pig. He pointed his blaster at the warrior but decided not to pull the trigger. Fucker deserves to suffer.
He ran through the gray cloud, his TEK’s visual sensors guiding the way to the open door. He threw two smoke bombs through the opening and waited for the clouds to deploy before entering.
Five Vargs waited inside the cavernous hallway, guns pointed at the door as he entered. Randai tumbled in and shot out the lights, his phantom-drive reengaging. Gunfire lit up the grand room, but he wove between the warriors, shooting them at point-blank range. His phantom-drive worked with the smoky shadows, making him as good as invisible. Randai knew that he appeared to the Vargs as a shifting wraith, materializing one second and disappearing just as they got a lock on him.
He finished the last guard and moved into the next room.
Motors shrieked as the heavy doors closed behind him, and a lock fell into place.
Lavish, yet archaic, decorations filled the space. Ancient tapestries and golden candelabras lined the walls. The building’s interior contrasted starkly with the town outside. To Randai’s left, Mr. Darcy appeared at the top of an elaborately woven stairway with bodyguards by his side.
“Ah, Randai…if that is indeed your real name,” the chubby Varg said, chewing on his cigar. “I should have guessed it would be you. Though, I must admit that I thought Cho had dealt with you by now.”
Randai fired, but his round hit a shimmering blue wall.
“So much for the energy crisis,” he spat. “A shield like that requires more power in an hour than Bometown is allotted for a week.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of energy when one has friends in high places.” Mr. Darcy puffed his cigar and tapped his nose. “We just need to keep a tight grip on things. After all, he who controls the energy controls the Underways.”
“You’re using it to whip up hatred of the Overways?”
“Oh, the people down here don’t need any help hating the Overways. But if pushed enough, they might just be willing to do something about their merciless overlords. Who knows? It might even tip the balance of power in a more favorable direction.”
“You’re no different than the corrupt asshole politicians up top.”
“Now, now,” he flashed Randai a golden smile. “No need to be so rude.”
“Let Kira go, and I’ll promise not to kill you too slowly.”
The Varg guards laughed and chortled.
“We’ll keep her…entertained,” Mr. Darcy said. “Doing otherwise wouldn’t be very gentlemanly.”
“You better not lay a finger on her!” Randai threatened, taken aback by the malice in his own voice.
“It sounds like you really like this Kira. One might even suppose that you’ve developed something of an attachment.” Mr. Darcy threw the butt of his cigar on the marble landing and stomped it out. “Like I said last time we spoke, I wouldn’t dream of it. The doctor was brought here for questioning, but you’ve made quite a big deal out of it. Now I’m wondering if Kira isn’t also an Archagent spy.”
Randai’s grip on his weapon tightened in anger. “I haven’t worked for the SIA in years. Now, why don’t you come down and challenge me like a real Varg?”
“Ah, but I’m afraid your taunting won’t work on me. As a partisan-class, the warrior’s code does not apply,” Darcy said, sticking his snout in the air. “Surely an experienced SIA agent should know as much.”
The other Vargs around the White Dragons boss nodded affirmatively.
“You’re a coward,” Randai shouted, quickly trying to formulate a plan as his eyes traced the glimmering shield. It looked like they had him trapped.
“Well, I hardly think it would be fair, me going up against the man they used to call the Ghost.”
That got Randai’s attention. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come off it, Randai. I’ve done my research and worked out exactly who you are…well almost. It took quite a bit of digging, but your TEK gave it away. Let’s put the theory to the test, shall we? See what the legendary Ghost is really made of.” Mr. Darcy keyed something into his SIG, and gears clicked as a gridded metal gate at the end of the room open. A set of giant yellow eyes hovered in the darkness beyond. “Let me introduce you to my latest acquisition. It’s quite a rare creature. You may have heard of the beast since your Kragak friends liked to use them once upon a time. I believe you Terrans refer to them as black dragons.”
The gang boss roared with laughter.
“It’s ironic, no?” He chuckled. “The White Dragons having a black dragon as a pet?”
The creature’s throat rattled as it slithered into the light: a reptilian beast the likes of which Randai had never seen. Shiny, black scales covered its body, and a thick bony material protected its head like a helmet. Its long serpentine frame wove around the furniture on four sturdy legs. Its gangly digits ended in sharp claws, and its forked tongue whipped about its lips, tasting the air as it approached.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going,” Mr. Darcy said. “Someone has to clean up the mess you created outside.”
Mr. Darcy and his thugs laughed as they disappeared behind a stone wall.
Randai shot a glance at the shield again, not wanting to take his eyes off the beast for more than a second. The barrier shimmered strong. He didn’t have enough fire-power to create an opening let alone bring it down, and the generator was likely hidden somewhere outside the field. He slowly backed toward the door. If I can get it open—
The black dragon ran up the wall, its body coiling. The reptile moved so fast, Randai barely dodged its deadly claws as he rolled out of the way. He twi
sted and fired at the beast, but the shots bounced off its thick hide. The creature launched again. It feigned a move to the left before swiping at Randai with its tail from the right. The powerful limb sent him crashing into a wooden table, his rifle clattering across the ground and vanishing under an upholstered chair.
Before Randai could move, a set of glistening fangs appeared in his face. He grabbed a jaw with each hand and fought to keep them from closing around his head. The black dragon slowly overpowered his TEK’s servos. Randai kicked with his feet and rolled out from under the creature’s weight, slamming its head into the wall.
Long black claws flashed by, and he stumbled into a cabinet, scattering porcelain ornaments across the floor. Three deep gouges spread across his abdominal plate, coming within a hair’s breadth of his skin. Randai diverted all reserve power to his exoframe’s arm servos and launched at the beast. He ducked under another claw swipe and put everything he had behind a punch to the dragon’s mandible.
It tumbled over a couch, howling.
In an instant, its head appeared over the toppled furniture, a dazed look in its slit-eyes. It shook its head and snarled menacingly, revealing several broken fangs.
Randai considered his options. His sniper rifle was powerful but too big and inaccurate for such an enclosed environment. His blaster wouldn’t penetrate the black dragon’s armor. He noticed the beast kept its belly to the ground as it moved. Its underbelly was probably soft, or at the very least unarmored. Randai drew his knife, hoping he was right. He threw himself over the couch, blade plunging. The reptile moved too fast and snaked out from under him. It snapped back and bit down on his right arm.
Randai gritted his teeth as the creature’s mouth clamped around his forearm, refusing to let go. Using his left arm, he repeatedly punched it hard in the snout. Rather than release, as he expected, the beast doubled down, and its fangs penetrated his exoframe. Randai cried out as flaming pain shot through his main arm. As the knife slipped from his grasp, he caught it with his free hand and rammed the tip into the creature’s eye.
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