Revolution

by Shawn Davis

  I made it out just in time.

  Rayne heard the sounds of ricocheting bullets tearing through the boat’s instrument panels. He continued crawling until he was behind the wall of the service cabin behind the control room.

  If I’m lucky, the remaining Shock Troopers will think I’ve been annihilated.

  Standing shakily to his feet, Peter leaned against the outside wall and held his rifle in a sweaty, bloody grip. Glancing to his right, he saw a long trail of fire and shrapnel extending from the deck outside the control cabin to the smashed railing at the bow of the boat. Looking straight ahead, he saw the buildings on the mainland looming steadily larger.

  Almost there. If I can just stay alive a few more minutes, the boat will reach land. The only problem is the controls are fused, so there’s no way to steer or decelerate the boat. That means a violent crash landing. If the boat strikes the concrete pier at full speed, my mission will most certainly be over.

  Rayne decided to avoid the trail of fire and shrapnel in front of him, opting instead to turn and circle around the rear of the service cabins. Emerging on the other side of the deck, he saw two of the remaining air bikes parked on the front deck beyond a large pile of flaming wreckage.

  Where are the riders?

  Rayne advanced cautiously with his rifle extended, hoping the flaming wreckage would camouflage his advance to anyone standing on the front deck. He was forced to stop when he reached the wreckage and had to skirt around the pile in order to reach the front deck. He crouched down behind the flames as he moved. Metallic voices spoke on the other side of the fire.

  “There’s no body!” one of the Troopers exclaimed.

  “There has to be! Check on the other side of the deck!” the other Trooper replied.

  Rayne figured it was now or never. He sidestepped around the wreckage, taking aim at the armored Trooper standing next to the control cabin’s doorway. Firing, he watched as the Trooper’s chest armor was blown apart and his body dropped to the deck. Rayne ran up to the cabin, covering the door with his rifle. He had time to see the other Trooper ducking out the door on the opposite side of the cabin. He fired again, but the bullets whizzed through empty air.

  Peter saw the mainland approaching fast. It looked as if the powerboat was headed straight for a concrete embankment at the water’s edge. Looking further to the right, he spotted the pair of air bikes parked on the deck. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, he made a run for the closest bike. The air bikes were both facing toward the control cabin. Rayne ran forward, turned, and leapt onto the back of the closest one. Dropping his rifle to the deck, he clutched the air bike’s handlebars.

  Rayne had never taken a ride on one of these before, so he scanned the controls quickly. Knowing time was short, he pressed a red button. He was startled as the bike’s front-mounted machine guns thundered into action and shattered the remaining front windows on the control cabin. Taking his finger off the button, the firing ceased. Peter glanced down at the small control panel beneath the handlebars. There was a single green button next to a gearshift lever. Pressing the button, he heard the bike’s engines rumble to life.

  Looking up, he saw a blue shape moving to the right of the control cabin. The missing Trooper was circling around the cabin toward him. Rayne pressed the left handlebar lever, unleashing a stream of automatic gunfire. The Trooper stood clear of the exploding gunfire to the right of the cabin, taking aim with his rifle and firing back. Rayne turned the handlebars to the right, re-directing the front-mounted machine guns. The Trooper had time to get off a few shots before he was ripped to shreds by exploding bullets.

  Glancing right, Rayne saw the concrete pier rushing toward him. He pushed upward on the anti-grav lever on the bike’s control panel, shooting the bike straight up. Ascending, he took a moment to look down. He watched the ferry strike the pier in a thundering, splintering crash. Flaming shrapnel shot from the wreckage as the boat exploded in a massive fireball. Rayne continued his rapid ascent, leaving the burning hulk far below.

  Chapter 34

  Club District

  The air-bike halted when it reached its maximum altitude of five hundred feet, hovering high above the ocean’s edge. Turning the handlebars slightly, Rayne activated the bike’s side jets. It turned in a slow 180 degree circle. He stopped when he was facing the ocean horizon. Gazing ahead, he saw something on the watery horizon that froze the blood in his veins. A long line of metal objects gleamed on the ocean.

  A fleet of air bikes are closing in on me, too many to count.

  Rayne swung the bike another 180-degrees until he was facing land. Pressing the right handlebar lever, he activated the rear jets. Peter’s stomach lurched as he raced over the roofs of the warehouse buildings lining the waterfront. Turning the handlebars slightly, he aimed for the closest cluster of buildings in the distance.

  Automatic thunder erupted behind him. Rayne turned the handlebar hard to the right, while simultaneously pressing downward on the anti-grav lever. His air-bike dove down into a maintenance road between two warehouse buildings, temporarily shielding him from his pursuers. Peter pressed down on the forward thrust, shooting low over the street at 110 miles per hour.

  He turned the handlebars quickly to avoid striking an oncoming truck, swerving the air bike into the adjacent lane. The truck roared by him like a freight train as he continued racing down the maintenance road. He jetted toward a line of ground and air vehicle traffic on the Warehouse District’s main avenue. The traffic represented a plethora of solid citizens from the suburbs on their way to the Club District for a night of illicit entertainment.

  Pressing upward on the anti-grav lever, Rayne took a sharp right onto the main avenue, shooting over ground car roofs. Glancing over his shoulder, he didn’t see any pursuers. Peter lifted up on the anti-grav shift until he was riding level with the roofs of the surrounding two-story buildings. Looking ahead, he saw the sparkling lights and neon signs of the Club District flashing a quarter mile down the road.

  That crowded den of criminals and decadents is the ideal place to lose my pursuers.

  Looking over his shoulder, Rayne saw an air bike turning onto the main avenue from the maintenance road. He figured the pursuing rider must have spotted him because he ascended quickly to rooftop level and commenced firing.

  Rayne dodged to the right to avoid an oncoming air car, dropping low so he was skimming over the roofs of ground cars. His pursuer dove after him, firing his front-mounted machine guns.

  Rayne turned his handlebars sharply to the left and ascended as a pair of ground cars below him exploded. He began weaving and ducking, trying to make himself a difficult target for the pursuing rider. Peter dodged under and around air-cars as he encountered them, trying to put them between himself and the relentless air bike rider. He gritted his teeth when he heard the air-car behind him explode.

  Peter was distracted by the colorful neon signs flashing on the walls of the buildings. The Club District. The elaborate signs acted as gaudy advertisements for pleasure houses and their infamous wares. For the right price, any citizen could obtain their heart’s darkest desires. The Club District had everything from gambling establishments to prostitution houses. In between were the Techno-Clubs where anyone with enough money could dance to the newest music and find the latest club drugs.

  Rayne pressed down on the forward thrust shift, but he still couldn’t gain the advantage against his pursuer. Automatic thunder continued to rumble behind him. Bullets ricocheted off building walls and telephone poles. A line of bullets struck one of the neon signs, exploding it in a shower of white sparks.

  Looking ahead, Peter saw another bike turning the corner from a side street racing directly at him. He estimated his distance from the side street and drove straight at the oncoming bike as if he were playing a demented game of chicken. Pressing the red button on his left handlebar, Rayne fired at the rider. The rider tried to avoid the bullets by dodging sharply to the left, striking a telephone pole and
exploding into flaming debris.

  Rayne dropped low over the roofs of the ground cars to avoid more gunfire from his pursuer. When he reached the closest side street, he swerved hard to his left. His pursuer overshot the turn and hit his brakes, spinning around 180 degrees in the main road. The Shock Trooper pressed down on the forward thrust and resumed the pursuit.

  Rayne’s quick maneuver earned him some breathing space. His pursuer didn’t bother to fire as he worked to close the gap. Rayne glanced over his shoulder to find the bike had dropped back a hundred yards. Peter hit his brakes and coasted into a nearby alleyway where he hoped to lose his pursuer. Racing down the alley, he arrived at a cul de sac.

  Peter maneuvered his bike in a 180-degree turn and faced the street. The alleyway resembled a long, narrow, open-roofed tunnel. He could see the familiar eerie glow from the neon signs illuminating the distant street. Poising his left thumb above the fire button, he waited. Rayne felt relieved when he saw the blue shape of the pursuing bike and its rider flash by the alley’s opening.

  This is a good spot to lay low for a while.

  Rayne didn’t regret his decision to hide in the alleyway when he saw a number of blue flashes dart across the opening. He counted at least eight more air bikes.

  Suddenly, Peter heard a loud clanging noise erupt from the pavement ahead. Glancing down, he saw a manhole cover being pushed upwards by an unseen force. Rayne dismounted from the bike and took cover behind a cluster of trash cans. He drew his weapon and focused it on the manhole. The cover tumbled aside and the barrel of a huge gun protruded from the opening. A soldier wearing gray and black urban camouflage armor followed the gun through the opening. He set the machine gun on a tripod and focused it on the far end of the alley.

  What the hell?

  “Rayne, get over here while I have you covered!” the man with the machine gun shouted over his shoulder.

  “Who are you?” Peter asked.

  “I’m one of the good guys! Get over here before they come back!”

  As Rayne moved toward the manhole, the soldier brought his machine gun down through the opening. Rayne shoved his pistol into the back of his pants and dropped into the unexpected sanctuary. He felt unknown hands catching him in mid-air as he fell.

  Rayne landed gently on his feet on the sewer bottom. Rancid water splashed around his ankles. Glancing around, he saw a group of four men and three women surrounding him. They were carrying flashlights, which brightly illuminated the dark tunnel. Peter recognized the familiar black and gray camouflage uniforms of Campion’s people.

  “How did you guys track me down?” Rayne asked, astonished.

  “We’ll answer your questions later. We have to move,” one of the soldiers said, pushing him forward. Rayne joined the group of soldiers in a quick jog through the sewer. They apparently knew where they were going because they made a decisive turn every time the sewer branched out to intersecting tunnels. Peter felt like he had been jogging for hours before they finally stopped for a break.

  “We found you by monitoring the police radio frequencies,” the man carrying the M-60 machine gun said. “News of a highly wanted fugitive fleeing the island was all over the police scanners. Our spies on the island initially alerted us to a large-scale manhunt. We used our tracking equipment to follow the chase to this specific area. We figured it was you, and Campion sent us over here.”

  The soldier carrying the M-60 was huge; his enormous shoulder and bicep muscles bulged under his armor plating. Rayne thought he looked even stronger than Campion.

  “Sounds like I got lucky,” Rayne said.

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” the big man in the camouflage armor retorted. “Let’s move.”

  They continued jogging through the tunnels until Peter lost track of time. He simply followed the flashlight beams of the soldiers in front as they twisted and turned through the labyrinth. He didn’t know how much time went by before they finally stopped.

  “We’re here,” the lead soldier said.

  He focused his flashlight on a metal ladder built into the concrete wall.

  “You go first,” he said to Rayne, gesturing to the ladder.

  “No problem,” Rayne agreed, grasping the lower rungs and lifting up.

  When he made it to the top, an unknown hand reached out and grabbed him. More hands pulled him through the hole in the ground and deposited him safely on his feet. The soldiers in the camouflage uniforms followed him up through the opening. He turned and faced Campion.

  “Nice to see you again,” Rayne said.

  “Nice to see me?” Campion shouted, clapping him hard on the shoulder and hugging him. “Welcome back, you maniac!”

  “Thank you, commander,” Peter said, grinning.

  “No, Peter, thank you. Thank you,” Campion said, shaking his hand vigorously. “My organization owes you a lot. More than we can ever repay. But, let’s not get too sentimental yet. There are still a few things to do. Follow me.”

  Campion led him through the maze-like corridors of the underground headquarters. Rayne followed her, unable to believe he was really here. He was having a hard time accepting the fact that he was actually safe. He couldn’t believe he had escaped from his pursuers. Campion led him to a small, unobtrusive door and opened it.

  “I don’t get it. What’s this?” Peter asked, peering into an ordinary-looking bedroom.

  “We need you to get some rest,” Campion said. “You’re no good to us exhausted.”

  “You want me to go to sleep now?” Rayne asked, surprised.

  “I guarantee you that the moment your head hits the pillow, you’ll fall asleep. You’ve had a rough night. I’ll hear about all your adventures when you wake up. Okay?”

  “If you say so,” Peter muttered, as Jane pushed him into the comfortable-looking bedroom and shut the door behind him.

  Rayne felt claustrophobic and turned back toward the door. He opened it and saw Campion’s armored back receding down the hallway.

  “Trust me,” Campion called over her shoulder without looking back.

  Rayne shut the door and trudged across the bedroom. Campion was right. He was exhausted. Now that his adrenaline was fading, he felt as if he had lost all his energy. Opening the door to the adjacent bathroom, he stepped in to take a shower.

  Peter washed the blood and sewer sludge from his battered body. He threw away his bloody, tattered clothes in a convenient trash barrel. Drying himself off, he found small bandages in the cabinet behind the mirror. He placed several bandages over his deeper wounds and trudged into the bedroom. He found some clothes in a dresser next to the bed. He put on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

  The room had been prepared like an immaculate hotel room. The furniture was spotless and the bed looked as if it had been freshly made. There was even a small refrigerator in the corner stocked with bottled water and sandwiches. He took out a bottle and gulped it down like a man lost on a desert island. Tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder, he took out another. This time, he sipped it and set it down on the dresser.

  It looks like Campion thought of everything.

  Lifting the soft sheets, Peter climbed under them. Jane had been close in her assessment. His head hit the pillow and he only spent a few minutes thinking about the incredible events of the past few days. Fantastic images from his experiences flashed through his mind like a movie on fast forward. The last image was of a beautiful blonde woman staring at him seductively from her seat behind a long table in the Presidential Conference Room. Then, he fell asleep.

  Chapter 35

  Final Preparations

  Peter awoke with a sudden start. Someone was pounding on the door with the force of a sledgehammer.

  “Hey, Peter, you in there?” Campion’s voice shouted from behind the door.

  “Hold on a second,” Peter said, getting up from the bed.

  Campion didn’t wait for Rayne to open the door. She burst in like an avalanche.

  “Good morning, my friend.
Are you ready to rock and roll?” she asked, clapping Rayne roughly on the shoulder.

  “What’s up, Campion?”

  “We’re going to my office, Peter. We’re having dinner with Connelly.”

  “Dinner? I thought you said it was morning?” Rayne said.

  “Yeah, morning for you. Evening, for everyone else. It’s after six pm. You’ve been asleep for almost twelve hours,” Campion said.

  “Twelve hours!”

  “You must have been pretty wiped out”

  “I guess so. When are you starting the attack?” Peter asked.

  “We’ll talk about that at dinner. Get dressed and come with me. I’ll wait in the hallway until you’re ready,” Campion said, stepping outside and shutting the door.

  Rayne went to the dresser and rummaged through the various clothing items in the drawers. He settled for a t-shirt and jeans. He didn’t know how Campion knew the correct clothing sizes to stock. Apparently, when you’re the leader of an extensive covert organization, finding out someone’s shirt and pants size was the least of your challenges. He got dressed and met Campion in the hallway.

  “Let’s go. We’ll talk on the way to my office,” Jane said.

  “All right.”

  They walked, side-by-side, down the hall. Rayne had to quicken his pace to keep up with Campion’s long strides.

  “So, what’s next on the agenda?” Peter asked.

  “Good question. But I’m afraid it will have to wait,” Jane said.

  “Don’t you want to know what happened on my mission?” Rayne asked, slightly flustered.

  “I already know what happened. You were successful.”

  “I realize that’s the bottom line, Campion,” Rayne replied, impatiently. “But how did you get the intelligence indicating I had succeeded?”

  “Our intelligence began with our covert tech operatives in the capitol city getting unusual requests to go down to the Underworld. It was completely unprecedented,” Jane said, taking an abrupt right into an intersecting corridor as Peter matched her long strides.