Syndicate Wars: False Dawn (Seppukarian Book 4)

by George S. Mahaffey Jr.

  Her thoughts flashed from this to the boat below and she realized she needed to come up with a plan. She was bearing down on the small craft and could see Samantha with Xan, wrapped in alien armor, but didn’t know what she’d do once she reached it. And why hadn’t the Syndicate done anything yet? Certainly they’d seen the glider, they knew they were coming. Why were they waiting to react? Maybe they were distracted, she thought. Maybe they were too focused on the boat and would let the glider slip right past them and—

  Then it happened.

  The water exploded directly under her.

  Quinn looked down, terrified as a colossal submersible drone launched itself at her.

  Quinn instinctively pressed the clips on her harness.

  She felt weightless for a moment.

  Then gravity sucked her down and she was falling, plunging forward through the air, still holding her rifle.

  She fell through the sky like a fallen star, arms tight to her sides, just as she’d done when space diving. She knew she wouldn’t reach the boat with Samantha onboard now. It was too far beyond her. Besides, she had more pressing concerns, including what to do about the alien that was trying to kill her.

  Grabbing her ankles with one hand, she miraculously circumvented the drone’s outstretched, whip-like appendage, that slashed past her, grazing the hair on her head. Peripherally, she saw the metal monster searching for her, groaning and heaving and then she hit the water and vanished from sight.

  ON THE DECK of the alien base, General Aames watched everything unfold. He saw Quinn disappear into the water, trapped between the two titanic drones, and watched the glider break off its approach. His soldiers opened fire on the glider which retreated back over the water, trailed by several smaller Swan drones that were also firing at it.

  The General stared down at the boat, now within arm’s reach. He smiled at the figure in the Syndicate armor and battle helmet, then nodded in Samantha’s direction. “Welcome aboard,” the General said, extending a hand.

  The figure in the armor grabbed the General’s wrist and hopped up onto the alien base. She was quickly surrounded by Syndicate soldiers. The General turned back to Samantha and conjured up the biggest smile he could. “Samantha,” he said.

  “How do you know my name?” Samantha asked.

  “I’m an old friend of your mother’s.”

  The General whistled and his soldiers grabbed Samantha dragged her kicking and screaming onto the base. He swiveled to Xan who pinned the General with a volcanic glare.

  “You’re human,” she said.

  “I like to think so,” General Aames said with a smile.

  Xan spat in his face. “You’re a fucking murderer.”

  The General turned to his fighters who rushed forward as Xan swung her rucksack around and flashed its contents. Everyone could see the bomb and detonator hidden inside.

  “BACK THE FUCK UP!” Xan hissed. “YOU PUT ONE HAND ON ME AND WE’RE ALL GOING DOWN!”

  QUINN SUNK through the water like a lead weight.

  The pseudo-ocean was murky and warm and Quinn threw out her arms to stop her rapid descent. Then she began scissoring her legs, fighting toward the surface. She sensed vibrations in the water, waves, and looked back to see the immense shadow of the drone as it plowed through the water, presumably hunting for her. Looking in the other direction, she spotted the shadow of the other drone. With a sinking sensation, she realized she was caught, pinned between the two alien leviathans.

  Struggling upward, she breached the surface of the water and gasped for breath. Her eyes jitterbugged. She saw the alien base in one direction, the mammoth drones on either side of her. The glider was nowhere in sight. She was all alone. And to make matters worse, she could see them.

  General Aames and Xan!

  The bastards were alive and well and standing on the dock of the alien base. Xan was screaming at the General while a small herd of Syndicate soldiers aimed their rifles at her. Xan took a step and Quinn’s heart nearly leaped through her throat. She could see Samantha! She was alive, bound, but otherwise appeared to be unharmed.

  Quinn kicked her feet, intent on swimming toward the alien base where she’d find some way, any way, to rescue her. Suddenly a current moved through the water, the sensation caused by something preternaturally large rising up from the depths of the ocean and—

  WHAM!

  There was an enormous explosion directly behind her. Quinn reckoned the drone had just slammed down into the water, creating a tsunami-like wave that propelled her forward and beyond the purview of the drone closest to the alien base.

  The force of the wave wrenched Quinn sideways and before she knew what had happened, she was surfing the wave, riding it toward the far side of the alien base at a rapid clip.

  The lower edge of the base came up fast and with one deft movement, Quinn muscled herself up and grabbed onto a section of the base, holding tight as the wave broke all around her. Somehow, unseen by the Syndicate soldiers, she slithered under the decking of the base, hiding from the drones which were rampaging toward her.

  CODY AND HAYDEN were scanning the flight console, watching three Swan drones closing from behind. The pursuing machines were without the heavy weaponry of the larger alien assault craft, but they were fast and capable of taking a glider down. Hayden slotted the controls down, angling the glider toward the surface of the water where he leveled it off. He glanced up to see another Syndicate base approaching in the distance. Troops and drones were visible on the decking of the base, firing at the glider which screamed down and to the right.

  “I gotta make this thing swim,” Hayden said, squinting sideways at Cody. “Since I can’t puke any chaff, I gotta weave low and hope like hell that the bogeys back there ain’t full-up locked!”

  Cody registered this. “I have no idea what you just said!”

  “STRAP IN!”

  Cody and the others did as Hayden pulled back violently on the controls. Cody was pinned in place, watching his world roll. He was on the verge of a g-induced black out, when the glider came back around, seemingly at the exact place they’d just left.

  Only now, Cody could see that they were behind the Swan drones.

  Hayden had pulled the glider around in a hellacious maneuver, outmaneuvering the alien machines.

  “GET THE DARTS READY!” Hayden thundered.

  Cody reached down as Hayden punched the engines, the thrust sling-shotting the glider up and over the Swan drones and the Syndicate base.

  “NOW!” Hayden shouted.

  Cody tapped the console and the glider reverberated with the thrumming sound as thousands of metal darts were dropped. He watched on the console as the darts slammed down on the Swan drones, obliterating them, while other darts rained hell down on the alien base. Cody saw the flechettes mow down rows of Syndicate soldiers, knocking them over like tenpins in a bowling alley. Some of the metal darts slammed into generators and what looked like fuel reservoirs, sparking explosions as portions of the base went up in smoke. He looked over at Hayden. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Hayden said, a grim smile on his face.

  GENERAL AAMES SQUARED off against Xan who was threatening to detonate the bomb she’d hidden in the rucksack. He searched her eyes, looking for any sign of weakness or that she was bluffing. Before he could react, she shoved past his troops and wrapped her arms around Samantha.

  “TOUCH ME AND I’LL KILL EVERYONE!” Xan screamed.

  Quinn saw this from her hiding spot underneath the base decking. Her face tightened in rage. She was close enough that she could probably get a shot off and kill Xan, who was helmetless. But if she did that she might accidentally hit Samantha or cause Xan to detonate her explosive. It was too risky. She’d have to get closer.

  Hands lacquered with sweat and water from the man-made ocean, Quinn spider-climbed under the decking, moving toward the rear of the space. As she was crawling, she noticed immense sections of flexible metal tubing that led from the water up toward the si
de of the base. Peeking through the decking, she could see that the tubing led into a cigar-shaped, metal tube that was twenty-feet tall and fixed to the side of the alien base. Quinn surmised that the flex tubing was feedwater for what was obviously a modular power source of some kind. She squinted and saw the cigar-shaped tube glow orange and emit a yellowish mist out of what she believed was a steam generator. Nuclear, she thought to herself. For Crissakes, the scuds were using modular nuclear reactors to power the bases! Similar things had been used at forward operating bases back during the last war in Yemen. The “Nuke-Mods” had been an immense source of pride for the military until the first one was blown by a suicide bomber.

  Quinn sucked in a breath and crawled over the flex-tubing. She spotted a compartment up ahead, a section of grated decking that she grabbed and nudged up. Xan’s screams continued to echo as Quinn eased the grated decking up only to see a Syndicate soldier peering down at her.

  “Hello,” Quinn said.

  The soldier aimed a rifle at Quinn.

  Quinn grabbed the rifle’s barrel and pulled back, hauling the soldier down into the water with her.

  The soldier, clad in heavy armor, struggled in the water as Quinn torqued her body around. She wrenched the soldier’s rifle away and clubbed him in the face with it. The soldier sank and Quinn grabbed the grating and pulled herself up.

  Hands latched onto her lower right leg and she looked back to see the alien fighter clawing at her, trying to drag her back down.

  Quinn kicked him off and fell to the deck, realizing she was in a covered space that was not visible from those standing outside on the exposed deck. She snatched up the alien’s rifle. The soldier squealed and snagged the grating. He emerged from the underside of the deck and grabbed the end of Quinn’s rifle. The alien looked up into the weapon’s barrel and then into the eyes that were ready to use it. Quinn hesitated and then shot the alien through the forehead.

  The weapon’s report echoed over the decking like a hammer strike.

  Quinn knew her cover was blown.

  Dodging back, she ran as fast as she could outside.

  Xan and the others turned, startled.

  “MOM!” Samantha screamed.

  Pupils shock-dilated, Quinn raised her rifle and fired a shot!

  The round from her gun tore the rucksack from Xan’s back, sending it spinning across the deck. Xan screamed and General Aames ducked for cover. Quinn went into a full-bodied rage, stomping forward only to take a knee and fire out her gun at the Syndicate soldiers.

  The barrel of her gun glowed as she unleashed a deafening fusillade of fire at the aliens. Rounds from her gun stuttered across the deck, chewing into the alien base and the Syndicate soldiers unlucky enough to be gathered before her. The energized slugs folded the alien soldiers backward, whipsawing their bodies across the decking. Several grenades pinned to the Syndicate soldiers were hit and these detonated. The mini-blasts fragmented the alien bodies into the air, birthing small fires as Quinn dropped, wheeled, and continued to shoot.

  Smoky haze filled the deck as Quinn continued to riddle the aliens, the ground carpeted with the bodies of the dead and dying. She dropped low and looked back to see dozens of additional fighters streaming down a walkway. She had two, maybe three minutes before they were on her. Quinn quickly pivoted and leaped over the bodies of the stricken aliens, fighting through the din, searching for Samantha.

  “SAMANTHA!” she yelled.

  Samantha cried out and Quinn reeled toward her, reaching out a hand when—

  WHAM!

  A form slammed into Quinn, sending her flying onto the deck. She lost her grip on the rifle which skittered away. Rolling over, she turned back to see Xan screaming, running forward, lowering her shoulder like a tailback.

  Quinn bolted upright and braced herself.

  The two collided and the impact sent them both crashing to the ground.

  Xan was the first on her feet. Teeth bared, she threw herself at Quinn, bringing her fists down like jackhammers.

  “THIS IS FOR ALL THE RESISTANCE FIGHTERS YOU KILLED!” Xan said, punching Quinn to the ground.

  Quinn crumpled, face bloodied, then swung out a leg that bounced off Xan’s alien armor.

  She fought to her feet and threw a punch that Xan blocked, before kicking Quinn in the groin. Quinn doubled over. Fighting off the agony of the kick, she saw Xan charging and pulled back a fist and threw a punch toward Xan’s kidney area. The impact was like striking a section of plywood. Her knuckles burned, but there was some give, so she drove them deep into Xan’s stomach. Xan yelped, but Quinn knew she hadn’t delivered a death blow.

  Xan stumbled back and Quinn dove for the rucksack that Xan had dropped.

  Her fingers looped around the rucksack’s shoulder straps.

  Then Xan’s hand violently grabbed her mouth.

  Quinn was fearful that Xan was going to rip her mouth wide open.

  She bit down hard on Xan’s fingers only to feel a fist slam into the back of her head.

  Quinn crashed onto the decking, watching peripherally as Xan snatched up the rucksack.

  With one final heave, Quinn pushed herself up, only to be met with another kick, this time to her sternum.

  Xan’s boot stole the air from Quinn and she folded up like a jackknife, clutching her midsection. Xan gathered up an alien rifle and aimed it, point-blank at Quinn.

  “ASK FOR FORGIVENESS!” Xan shouted.

  “LET MY DAUGHTER GO!” Quinn replied.

  “SAY IT! Xan screamed.

  Quinn wanted to rip Xan’s throat out, but realized if she had any hope of helping Samantha, she’d have to play ball.

  “I’m sorry,” Quinn replied softly. “I don’t know what else to say, but … I’m sorry.”

  The rifle quivered in Xan’s hands. “They took everything from me,” she said. “You don’t understand, but I’ve got nothing left. This, what I’m doing here, it’s all I have.”

  “You don’t do right, by doing wrong.”

  Xan held Quinn’s fiery look. “We both know that’s bullshit. Sometimes you have to do both.”

  Xan raised the rifle and a look suddenly came over her. The same kind of wide-eyed stare that someone might have upon seeing the face of God. She backtracked from Quinn who slowly turned to see the two submersible drones rocketing up out of the water. Nearly all of the eighty-foot metallic monstrosities were visible, steam rising from their exoskeletons. Quinn gaped at the closest beast as whip-like appendages with metal lassos fixed to the end shot out like silk from a spider. One of them barely missed Quinn, while another snared Samantha.

  “NO!” Quinn screamed.

  The lasso closed around Samantha’s midsection, lifting her up into the air. Quinn was powerless to stop it. Gunfire rang out and Quinn looked over to see Xan firing at the alien troops which were approaching from the top of the base. Quinn grabbed up a discarded Syndicate rifle and fired at them as well. She watched Xan hoist the discarded rucksack and throw it over her shoulder. Then Xan looked back. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” she screamed at Quinn. “THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND THEM!”

  Quinn watched her streak forward, taking incoming fire from the Syndicate soldiers, their rounds ricocheting off her armor. She was hit several times, but continued to run toward a faraway ramp.

  Turning, Quinn watched helplessly as Samantha was pulled ever higher until she was fifty-feet overhead, dangling at the end of the drone’s metal lasso. It was over, Quinn thought to herself with a sinking feeling. There was no way left to save her daughter. She pulled the Syndicate rifle in tight against her chest. If she was going down, she’d take as many of the bastards out with her as she could.

  At that moment, Samantha looked down at her mother, on the verge of a mental meltdown. She was hyperventilating and full of fear as she looked down and noted several things all at once: her mother valiantly orchestrating a last stand against the advancing Syndicate soldiers; Xan forging her way up the ramp, possibly wounded, but still mobil
e, headed toward an opening into the heart of the alien base; and the operators of the drone that held her in the metal lasso. Samantha looked over at the three aliens that seemed to grin at her from inside of the machine’s translucent cockpit. She felt a current pass through the machine, realizing that it was only seconds before the drone did something terrible to her. She had visions of it either ripping her in half, or punging down into the water, never to return.

  In that moment of despair, her eyes strayed to the metal lasso holding her in place. There was a nubbing on the alien alloy, a place where the metal had either been imperfectly crafted or somehow fractured ever so slightly. She reached out her hands and drew the bindings around her wrists back and forth over the nubbing as energy welled up inside her. The bindings broke free and Samantha closed her eyes and exhaled because she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Then her eyes flapped open and she set the air on fire.

  24

  Samantha’s mouth peeled back in a silent scream as the sky became an unquenchable wall of fire. For a moment, a line in a story she’d heard came to her, something about a god named Prometheus and how fire was stolen from on high to give to mortal men. It was time, Samantha thought to herself, time to give the fire back. Heat and light radiated from her outraised arms, a great rending fire that shot out hundreds of feet in front of her. She looked down and shrieked, “RUN, MOM!”

  Quinn heard Samantha’s faint voice and saw the fireball above her and out over the water, sweeping over everything like an angry orange curtain.

  She dropped her gun and somersaulted back, covering her head, diving into the water as—

  WHOOMPH!

  The flames swooped right over her.

  Up above this, Samantha watched the fire swirl like a whirlwind, covering the drone that was holding her and the one that was positioned ten yards beyond it.

  The flames melted the drones’ exoskeletons, cooking the operators inside their cockpits. The machines trembled and a static squeal echoed from the thorax of the one holding her. Down below, the wall of flames swept over the Syndicate soldiers on the deck and those approaching the deck, turning the fighters into ambulatory torches. Some ran around, on fire, while others dove into the man-made ocean.