As he found it, the Liberator launched toward him. It landed on top of the rifle, its legs splayed wide to cushion its fall. Jay rolled backward through the fountain, his back hitting its edge. The Liberator steadied itself and locked onto him. Gunfire blasted from overhead. Jay looked up. The squadron couldn’t fire on the Liberator; he was too close. But someone was firing.
Over his shoulder, he saw Nasira, slick with oil. In any other circumstances, he would’ve been turned on by the sight. She aimed her Glock and punched round after round into the Liberator. The rounds did little damage, even though she was aiming for the sensors. The Liberator closed on him.
Jay tightened both hands into fists, submerged them in the water and rendered his core muscles rigid. His body seized up. He couldn’t move now even if he wanted to. A high-voltage surge traveled from his arms, through the water and up the Liberator’s legs. It jerked in position, then toppled sideways. The side-mounted machine gun smashed against the fountain rim. The stench of burning metal and plastic filled his nostrils.
He turned to check on Nasira, only to see a fourth Liberator emerge from the escalator, take aim and lumber toward them. Its spidery legs slipped on the oil. It tried to balance itself, giving the squadron above precious time to tear its mounted machine gun apart.
Jay rolled out of the fountain as the Liberator crashed into it. It got back to its feet and twisted to face Nasira. She reached out, grabbed the handle of an unused fire extinguisher and swung it like a baseball bat, knocking out one of the robot’s legs.
Jay dived under the Liberator, sliding through the oil. He collected Nasira and pushed them both, entangled, across to the foyer wall. Behind them, the squadron opened fire again. A 40mm grenade struck the top of the Liberator, ripping it apart.
‘Get out of the oil,’ Nasira whispered.
Jay pulled himself to his feet. He turned to help her up, but she was already ahead of him, oil-skating her way around the fountain to the balcony stairs.
A sixth Liberator made its way up the escalators, a seventh not far behind. They just keep coming, he thought as he sprinted after Nasira. He slipped and fell onto his forearms, sliding several feet. He crawled the rest of the way to the staircase, reaching the first step with a mouth full of vegetable oil. Nasira was a few steps up. She reached down with one hand and hauled him up.
‘Molotovs!’ she yelled.
The Liberators swept the balcony with gunfire, then directed their rounds downward, combing the stairwell. Jay spat oil and pressed himself flat against the steps. Rounds cracked overhead, obliterating the foyer wall.
The surviving squadron members smashed a salvo of flaming molotovs down onto the foyer floor, igniting the oil. Jay wriggled up the stairs like a drunk penguin, trying to get clear of the approaching Liberator and the blanket of fire.
He watched the fire engulf everything but the fountain.
***
Jay opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was crawling up the stairs while the Liberators skittered through the flaming foyer. He rolled over and saw the scorched husks of the robots sprawled like metal spiders across the oil-slicked foyer. A few lingering flames flickered across the surface.
Nasira stood over him. She was covered in oil and looked as disgusted as he felt. ‘Thanks for saving me,’ she said.
‘Saving you?’ Jay said. Then he remembered. ‘Oh yeah, I am pretty awesome.’
She was about to walk away when he grabbed her ankle.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Thanks for returning the favor.’
She shrugged his hand off. ‘You’re lucky I find you borderline charming.’
‘Borderline?’ He grinned.
Her eyebrows narrowed slightly. ‘Never thought of you as a pious man.’
Jay realized what she was talking about and tucked his father’s cross back under his vest. ‘It’s my father’s.’
‘Yeah, I know that,’ she said. ‘I gave it you.’
‘He never let me forget,’ Jay said, pulling himself into a sitting position.
Nasira offered her hand. He took it and she helped him up. ‘Forget what?’ she asked.
Jay stared past her at a dead squadron member. The surviving members were downstairs now, carefully searching for surviving Liberators.
‘That I let my brother die. I couldn’t save him.’
‘Hey,’ she said, gripping his shoulder. ‘You didn’t let him die.’
‘I did. And I’ll pay for my sins one day.’
Jay sensed someone approach from behind. He turned but there was no one there.
‘What are you looking at?’ Nasira said.
Jay switched to infrared and immediately saw a figure standing twenty feet away. The shocktrooper uncloaked, his Magpul aimed at them. Together, Nasira and Jay slowly raised their hands above their heads. The shocktrooper tossed a couple of plasticuffs at their feet. Jay turned his head, scanning the balcony around the foyer and picking out three more shocktroopers.
‘You’re a slippery pair, aren’t you?’ the shocktrooper said, smiling at his own joke. ‘Extra tight so you can’t escape.’
Nasira sighed and picked up both pairs of plasticuffs.
Chapter Sixty
Sophia and DC entered the OpCenter’s command and control room from a higher level, stepping out onto a steel walkway that wrapped around the sides of the square-shaped room. Unrailed walkways ran around both sides to the end, dropped seven steps and then eight steps more to the ground floor.
The far wall was concave and filled with an impressive grid of monitors, five by four. The monitors were flanked by two columns of analog clocks showing times all around the world. On the ground floor, four long desks were arranged in a diamond formation, seating six people per desk, three on each side. The staff were unarmed personnel in a mix of air force, army and navy uniforms. No other Blue Berets. No covert security. No shocktroopers. No Elohim.
No one looked up to question Sophia and DC’s appearance. Blue Berets were obviously a common sight. As long as they kept moving and didn’t hesitate or look confused, they would be fine. And that’s what Sophia did, her backpack over one shoulder, her SCAR rifle pointed non-threateningly at the floor. She approached the computer operator on the corner nearest to her and told the woman she needed to check her computer. DC suggested the operator could take a cigarette break while they worked, and she nodded enthusiastically, gathered her ID and cigarettes and departed the room, her heels clicking on the steel steps.
Sophia lowered her daypack to the ground. Without removing the EMP, she armed it and—checking to see that DC had posted himself at the northwest corner—set the timer for fifteen minutes. She needed to allow everyone enough time to get out of the room and begin exfiltrating while the EMPs detonated.
The entrance doors slid open. Sophia looked up at the steel balcony to see two security personnel walk in. Their white uniforms and swords were unmistakable. Elohim.
She considered a casual exit with DC, but that idea evaporated the moment she saw Cecilia, followed by a third Elohim carrying a sword across his back.
Cecilia spoke loudly, addressing all staff. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I need you to evacuate command and control. Immediately.’
DC tried to move with the crowd, but Cecilia pointed at him. ‘Not you. Security personnel will remain in place. Thank you.’
Sophia watched from under her helmet as another pair of Elohim entered. This time, they brought friends: Abraham and his two men. They were unarmed and bound with their hands behind their backs. The Elohim prodded them down the walkway and onto the ground floor. Following instruction, they sat on leather office chairs, clear of the desks. Sophia remained where she stood at the corner desk, making a quick adjustment to her radio so that it automatically transmitted conversation over the channel.
‘I need you to place your weapons on the ground and sit down,’ Cecilia said. ‘Both of you.’
Five Elohim. Sophia didn’t have any other option right now. She complied, feigning re
luctance. She hadn’t said as much to anyone on her team, but she was hoping to be caught. She wanted this. As she sat on a chair and kicked away from the desk, she knew what needed to be done.
She waited for Cecilia or the Elohim to inspect the daypack under the desk, but no one noticed it. That’s a small bonus, she thought.
Cecilia left two of her five Elohim at the entrance doors, which sealed shut again. She walked to the ground floor.
‘To be completely honest, Sophia,’ she said, ‘I wasn’t expecting you so soon.’
‘I got impatient,’ Sophia said.
‘It was a nice trick, detonating the explosives at Peterson Air Force Base. I almost fell for it,’ Cecilia said. ‘I suppose you have your resistance playmates to thank for such a coordinated strategy. It got you this far, at least.’
Sophia watched carefully as Cecilia took the steps to the ground floor and came to a stop in front of her, but not too close. One of the Elohim tossed Sophia some plasticuffs, waiting patiently for her to bind herself. She did so, tightening the cuffs with her teeth. Nearby, DC, Abraham and his two men did the same.
‘Tie their legs to the chairs,’ Cecilia said. ‘Remove their radios. We’re going to be here for a while.’
The Elohim got busy stripping Sophia of her P99 pistol, her belt, radio and knives. Sophia hoped they wouldn’t switch off her radio or discover it was set as voice activated.
‘You’re not going to kill me?’ she said.
‘If I wanted you dead, I would’ve had you killed in Boracay.’
‘You almost did. You killed Freeman, you killed Benito, you killed Schlosser.’
The Elohim placed her pistol, radio, belt and knives on the desk behind Cecilia, unaware of the EMP ticking away underneath.
Cecilia’s eyes narrowed. ‘The scientist? Yes, he had to go. However, Freeman decided to take matters into his own hands.’
‘What do you mean?’ Sophia said.
‘You don’t …’ Cecilia paused. A faint smile crept across her lips. ‘Freeman killed himself before we could pull him in. Such a shame, really.’
‘The shocktroopers killed him!’ Sophia shouted.
‘No, dear,’ Cecilia said. ‘He bit into an ampule concealed inside the filter of a cigarette.’
Sophia bit back tears. She knew about Freeman’s cyanide ampule; he’d shown her once. She’d hoped he’d never have to use it. Nasira hadn’t told her the truth. Freeman had killed himself on her watch.
The Elohim handed Sophia’s radio and knives to Cecilia, who placed them neatly on the desk. She picked up Sophia’s P99 and inspected it.
‘But that’s OK,’ she said with a smile. ‘I have you and DC, and hopefully that’s all I need.’
Sophia needed to find out what Cecilia was getting at, and quickly. ‘What do you need?’
‘I need to know that you’re OK. Do you require medical attention? Are any of your team members hurt?’
Before Sophia could respond, Cecilia aimed the P99 and shot one of Abraham’s men.
Sophia swallowed. She didn’t need to look over to know he was dead.
‘Whatever you want to know, we’ll tell you!’ Abraham yelled. ‘Stop this madness!’
Cecilia ignored him. ‘How large is your team, Sophia?’
‘One less now,’ she said.
‘Have the squadron search the floor,’ Cecilia ordered her Elohim. She aimed the P99 at Sophia. ‘They’ll find them.’
She strode over to Abraham. ‘You’re new. Is Sophia running out of friends?’
Abraham glared at her, but said nothing.
Cecilia hadn’t noticed the EMP inside the daypack yet, even though it was right at her feet. Sophia tried to remember how many minutes remained. Maybe twelve, ten; she’d lost count.
‘Have you been suffering from any unusual symptoms in the last six months?’ Cecilia asked Sophia. ‘Headaches? Blackouts? Dizziness?’
Sophia knew what she was implying. The mystery vial she’d injected herself with.
‘This one time, I bit my tongue,’ she said.
‘You injected yourself with a locator probe,’ Cecilia said.
‘That’s not possible.’
‘A year ago I thought that too,’ Cecilia said. ‘But it turns out our R&D are really ahead of the curve. We have all manner of things to tag people—insect pheromones, thermal fingerprint detection, nanocrystals, all sorts of fun ways to keep tabs on them. But my favorite is the retrovirus. Invisible, microscopic and it can be tracked from halfway around the world. That’s what you injected yourself with.’
‘You’ve been following me the whole time.’ Sophia hung her head. ‘Jesus.’ Her stomach contorted at the thought of Freeman and Benito dying because she’d led the shocktroopers right to them. All this time, she’d been a beacon on the Fifth Column’s radar, flashing a big neon ‘come kill us’ sign for everyone.
She swallowed and pushed those thoughts away. They weren’t going to help her get out of this alive. To do that, she needed something to work with.
‘The word on the street is you’re creating an army of psychopaths,’ she said.
‘No.’ Cecilia shook her head thoughtfully. ‘I think you’re missing the point. Or the street has been manipulating the facts, as he is wont to do.’
‘So I’m wrong then?’
‘My interest is only in advancing humanity,’ Cecilia said. ‘We have dark times ahead and we need to adapt to survive.’ She held a vial up to the fluorescent light. ‘This is my gift to you. The anti-Chimera vector.’
‘I’ve heard about that,’ Sophia said. ‘Thanks all the same, but I’ll pass.’
‘I know your pain,’ Cecilia said.
Sophia felt a growl deep inside her throat. ‘But you don’t feel it.’
‘And you don’t have to. Not any more. Do you know what the perfect soldier is, Sophia? The perfect soldier is someone who can do anything and think they can get away with it. And even if they can’t, they believe they can.’
‘So it’s an anti-morality drug.’
‘I understand your skepticism, but even you, a part of you, takes comfort in the idea of no longer being tormented by your atrocities.’ She walked around Sophia with slow, measured steps. ‘And you’ve committed a few, to say the least. No one ever walks out of this clean.’ She leaned over and spoke into Sophia’s ear. ‘But why shouldn’t they?’
‘By removing the consequences, you’re cutting out what’s human. Which I suppose makes perfect sense to you.’
‘I wouldn’t waste your breath patronizing me,’ Cecilia said. ‘Look at it this way: if you had a wounded arm that could be treated for infection, would you treat it?’ She smiled at her own cleverness. It made Sophia’s stomach fold. ‘And how is that any worse than a soldier with a wounded soul? If you could disinfect it?’
‘That’s a wonderful paramoralism,’ Sophia said, ‘but it’s pretty much moral lobotomy.’
Cecilia crossed her arms. ‘The moral dilemma isn’t whether the soldier should suffer or not; the moral dilemma is war itself.’
‘And a legion of emotionally neutered soldiers is your answer to that?’
‘Tell me this,’ Cecilia said. ‘A rape victim stabs her rapist with a knife. It’s self-defense. But the doctors have to treat the rapist’s wounds, whether they like it or not. He will be healed, but the victim still has to live with it.’ She wasn’t smiling now. ‘Why should she? Why should the rapist be healed and the victim left to lick her own wounds? Why can’t she have the right to heal as well? Why should her scars remain?’
Sophia shook her head. ‘Somehow I doubt that’s the application you have in mind.’
‘It’s not just that,’ Cecilia said. ‘These soldiers will see more clearly. They will think more logically. Rationally. Unburdened by fear.’ She held the vial between two fingertips and a thumb. ‘It’s exactly what this world needs right now.’
‘Have you seen the world out there?’ Sophia said evenly. ‘What this world needs right now is a mir
acle.’
‘And it came to you,’ Cecilia said. ‘And you came to me. See? Things do have an interesting way of working out.’
She raised Sophia’s P99 and shot another of Abraham’s men.
Sophia couldn’t stop herself looking over this time. Abraham’s face was a shade paler and flecked with the blood of his men. He stared through Cecilia, not at her.
‘For who can make that straight, which he hath made crooked,’ he whispered.
Cecilia ignored him and pulled up a chair in front of Sophia. The command and control room was unnervingly silent except for the thrum of computer fans.
‘You have something. Something that belongs to me,’ she said.
Sophia had no idea what Cecilia was talking about. She’d have to play along until she figured it out.
‘So I’d like to propose an exchange,’ Cecilia said. ‘Information that leads to the recovery of this will lead to the release of your friends.’
Sophia smirked. ‘I don’t have any friends.’
Cecilia rolled her eyes. ‘At this rate you won’t.’
Under her instruction, one of her Elohim fired his PEP rifle at DC. Plasma exploded over his chest and the pressure wave threw him off the chair and onto the floor. The Elohim hadn’t tied his feet to the chair like they had Sophia and the others. DC screamed in pain, then lay oddly still.
Sophia tried to relax her clenched fists. Cecilia wanted a reaction and she planned to give her as little as possible. DC would be paralyzed for a short time, but he would survive.
Cecilia turned Sophia’s chair around so she could see the monitors on the wall. They each showed the same video feed. A fiber-optic camera fitted to someone’s chest. Nasira and Jay were kneeling on the roof of the hotel. Their wrists and ankles were bound by plasticuffs and they were blindfolded. Their bodies were soaking wet and sagged with exhaustion. Wind ruffled their hair, which was matted with blood.
The Seraphim Sequence: The Fifth Column 2 Page 50
