xXx

by Tim Waggoner

  Two.

  She lowered the next.

  One.

  But just as the team started to make a move to storm the waiting attackers, a huge explosion sent operatives flying to their deaths all around them. Confused, everyone looked up to see a bearded African-American man in a black leather jacket standing on the upper level catwalk, holding a large grenade launcher. He shouldered the weapon once more, and launched another grenade. This one exploded in the midst of operatives close to Becky, Tennyson, and Nicks. A third blast took out more operatives near Hawk and Talon.

  The newcomer saw a dozen more operatives coming in through the opening in the substation’s wall. Reinforcements. He took aim at the SUV parked near the opening and fired. The vehicle exploded, becoming an inferno that engulfed the recently arrived operatives, killing them all. Game over.

  As the dust settled, the team moved out from behind the pillars, surveying the carnage. A voice called out from above them then.

  “Whassup?” their savior said.

  Becky grinned. “Darius Stone,” she said. “Triple-X since 2005.”

  Serena was going to have to find a very special way to show Xander her gratitude for giving her that phone. “Thanks for the assist,” she said to Darius.

  “X takes care of its own,” Darius said.

  Everyone smiled until Becky’s eyes widened as she had a sudden realization.

  “Oh my god,” she said.

  Serena did not like the sound of that.

  * * *

  Xander grabbed Donovan from behind, got him in a chokehold, and then pulled him back into the bathroom between the Command Center and the cockpit. The door slammed closed behind them, and Donovan tried to use his Exo-Gloves on Xander, but while the gears whirred and the pistons snapped, he couldn’t turn in this small space. Unable to break free from Xander’s grip, Donovan punched the bathroom mirror in front of him, sending glass shards flying everywhere. The force of the punch dislodged Xander’s grip and shoved him back into wall and down onto the toilet, his legs akimbo in zero gravity, glass fragments floating around him like sharp-edged snow.

  With Xander off his back, Donovan could turn, so he did so and faced Xander.

  “What’s wrong, hotshot?” Donovan said, a smug smile on his face. “No witty comeback? No clever one-liner?”

  “Nah,” Xander said. “Just finally worked out that math problem.”

  Donovan’s features twisted into a mask of fury, and he drew back his arm, and punched an Exo-Glove toward Xander. But Xander rolled away before the high-tech weapon could strike him, and Donovan ended up hitting the toilet. The force of the punch sent the toilet down through the plane, leaving a gaping hole. Air rushed out as the cabin depressurized, causing a near-deafening roaring sound.

  Xander grabbed hold of the door as the wind tore at him. Donovan tried to grab onto the sink, but it shattered beneath the force of the still-ratcheting Exo-Gloves. He kicked Donovan back toward the opening where the toilet had been, and the man was pulled toward it. As he was sucked in, he desperately reached out with the Exo-Glove and tried to get a grip on the bathroom walls. Xander kicked the man in the chest, and the impact was too much. Donovan was pulled through the opening and disappeared.

  “That’s gonna take a second flush,” Xander said.

  * * *

  Darius stood with the others while Becky sat on the floor next to the power generator and checked the data readout on her laptop. It took her only a few seconds to review the information sent by the signal jammer, and when she was finished, she looked up at them with an expression of sheer horror.

  “We failed,” she said.

  * * *

  Xander floated into the cockpit, reached past the dead pilot, grabbed the shift mechanism and, after some struggle, righted the Globemaster, taking it out of zero G. His body suddenly felt heavy again as he felt the effects of gravity settled on him, but as much fun as it had been to fly around weightless, he preferred to defy gravity the old-fashioned way: on the back of a motorcycle or free-climbing up a sheer rock face. He removed the pilot from his seat and laid him gently on the floor. Then he took the seat and examined the control console. He’d never flown a plane this complex before, but how hard could it be?

  He wanted to at least set the autopilot so he could go look for Marke, but before he could touch any of the controls, his phone rang. He answered it, knowing there was only one person who would be calling him now.

  Serena didn’t waste words. “She did it. She activated Pandora’s Box before we could stop her.”

  Xander looked through the cockpit window and pictured the satellite—or what was left of it after reentry—falling toward Earth, a fiery missile of death on a collision course with Detroit. And although Marke had aimed it at Serena and the others, the building they were in was located downtown. The force of the satellite’s impact would devastate the surrounding area, resulting in who knew how many deaths.

  “Lucky for us I got something to knock it out of the sky,” he said.

  Serena was silent for a moment, and then she said, “It’s a one in a million…”

  “Give me the co-ords,” he said.

  She did so, somewhat reluctantly, he thought, and he typed them into the Globemaster’s navigation system: 42.3314N, 83.0458W.

  He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye to her, so he disconnected and put his phone back in his pocket. Time to do some flying, he thought. He gripped the plane’s yoke, took a deep breath, and started ascending toward the rapidly falling satellite.

  * * *

  Xiang dropped back to the cargo bay floor as normal gravity was restored. Bodies of dead NSA soldiers lay scattered around him, and he looked around to make sure that he’d gotten them all. The last thing he wanted was for some motherfucker that he missed to sneak up on him and—

  A shot rang out and a bullet slammed into his leg.

  He looked up in the direction the shot had come from and saw Marke standing at the top of the stairs, pistol in hand. He tried firing back, but the semi-auto he held was out of ammo. His leg was a blaze of agony, and he stumbled into the side of a bulkhead and used it to prop himself up.

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” He threw the rifle away in disgust.

  As Marke began to make her way down the stairs, Xiang turned away and hit the button to open the cargo bay door. Wind rushed in through the cargo bay, but both he and Marke were far enough away from the door that the wind had little effect on them.

  Marke surveyed the carnage as she reached the bottom of the stairs. If she felt anything on seeing so many of her people dead, she didn’t show it. She stepped toward Xiang, keeping her gun trained on him, but she didn’t get too close. The woman wasn’t stupid.

  She held up Pandora’s Box with her other hand. “With this, we’re going to change the world. You gonna help me get out of here?”

  “No,” Xiang said. “Your world’s not the world I wanna live in.”

  The period of zero gravity had caused all kinds of equipment to float around the cargo bay, but once normal gravity was restored, everything fell, and now shit was scattered all over the place. A parachute pack had fallen nearby, and it gave Xiang an idea.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Yes, what?” Marke replied.

  “Today’s your day.”

  Despite his injured leg, Xiang moved with lightning speed. He grabbed hold of the parachute and lunged toward Marke. She managed to get a shot off but missed him as he landed at her feet. He swiftly wrapped the pack’s straps around her legs, and pulled the rip cord. The chute deployed, was caught by the wind, and Marke was yanked off her feet and pulled toward the open bay door.

  She was so surprised, she didn’t scream, didn’t curse him, didn’t make a sound of any sort. She clawed at the floor, trying to find some sort of handhold, but she found none. She lost hold of Pandora’s Box in doing so, and the device skittered after her. She flew down the ramp and out into the open air, Pandora’s Box following a sh
ort way behind.

  Xiang couldn’t let the device fall out of the plane.

  Sometimes being one of the good guys is a real pain in the ass, he thought.

  Ignoring the pain in his wounded leg, he ran toward the bay door, snagged another parachute pack lying on the floor, and dove toward the ramp. He slid down just in time to grab hold of Pandora’s Box before he fell out of the plane and began freefalling.

  * * *

  The air was thinning out, and it was getting damn cold inside the cockpit. Xander knew he was pushing the Globemaster to operate at altitudes it wasn’t designed for—and he could say the same thing for himself—but he couldn’t give up. He had to stop the satellite, no matter what happened.

  Xander was beginning to feel the effects of oxygen deprivation—nausea, headache, and euphoria. At least with the euphoria, he didn’t care about the other symptoms. The Globemaster was practically on the edge of space now, and the engines began to stall.

  Come on, you bucket of bolts, Xander thought. I just need you to hold together a little bit longer…

  And then he saw the satellite ahead, the metallic object the size of a bus, wreathed in white-hot flame, trail of fire stretching out behind it. It seemed to grow larger as the Globemaster headed for it. Five hundred feet to go, Xander estimated. Four hundred. Three…

  Xander jumped out of the pilot’s seat and raced back through the plane just as the satellite smashed into the cockpit, the force of the impact tearing the Globemaster apart. Xander ran full out, through the Command Center, down the stairs into the cargo bay, and toward the bay door which—thankfully—was already open. As he flung himself toward the open door, the plane ripped into shreds around him, and then everything went black.

  THE STRATOSPHERE

  Three miles above the Earth, Xander fell. At first there was no sound, but then he broke through into the atmosphere, and the rush of air blasted his face and eardrums. But he didn’t feel it because he was unconscious.

  And still he fell.

  * * *

  Serena, Darius, and the rest of the team rushed out of the substation and looked up at the explosion high overhead. None of them said anything. What could they say? All they could do was stand, watch, and hope.

  * * *

  10,000 feet…

  Xander, still unconscious, fell in an uncontrollable spin, the ground rushing up to meet him.

  7,500 feet…

  Xander’s eyes remained closed.

  5,000 feet…

  Xander’s eyes popped open. At first he was over-whelmed by the air roaring past him and the dizzying sensation of spinning. But it took only a few seconds for him to orient himself, and he turned over and spread out his arms and legs to better control his descent.

  Only one tiny problem, Xander, my man, he thought. You’re still falling at fucking terminal velocity.

  Debris from the wreckage of the Globemaster whipped past him, and he scanned his surroundings, searching for something, anything that he might be able to use to save himself.

  2,500 feet…

  And there it was, a hundred feet below him—a cargo crate from the Globemaster, with its aerial drop chute still intact. Xander kicked off a chunk of passing debris, brought his legs together and flattened his arms against his sides and zoomed toward the crate like a rocket. He reached the crate and grabbed hold of it, fighting against the G-force.

  1,000 feet…

  Xander rode the crate as it plummeted toward the ground, and then he reached for the parachute and pulled the cord. The chute deployed, caught air, and Xander held on tight so the sudden jerk of the crate slowing wouldn’t throw him off.

  500 feet…

  The crate continued slowing, but not nearly fast enough. Xander braced for impact…

  * * *

  An SUV raced to the impact site—a vacant lot on the edge of town that was obscured by a massive cloud of dust. The vehicle skidded to a stop on the street, and the doors popped open. Serena and all the others—including Xiang—emerged, everyone afraid of what they might find. The team stood at the curb, reluctant to go any closer.

  Tennyson—leg wound bandaged—removed his fedora and held it in both hands.

  “Guess he finally ran out of lives,” he said sadly.

  But then a silhouette appeared in the dust cloud, and Xander came walking toward them. He moved stiffly, but he was moving, and that was all that counted.

  Becky grinned so wide it looked like her cheeks might crack. “Guess you haven’t been paying attention,” she said.

  Adele raised her hand in three-fingered salute which Xander returned, tapping his heart.

  He looked at Nicks. “If it ain’t on video, it didn’t happen. Tell me you got that.”

  Nicks smiled and held up a GoPro camera.

  “This is some Hall of Fame shit right here, bro,” he said.

  Hawk and Talon stood off to the side.

  “Not bad. I could’ve done that, though,” Hawk said.

  “Bullshit,” Talon said.

  Hawk scowled. “Shut up.”

  Xiang walked up to Xander, cigarette in his mouth. Xander noticed the man’s limp. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be permanent. He doubted it would be. Xiang was one tough sonofabitch.

  “What happened to Marke?” Xander asked.

  Xiang smiled. “The ground broke her fall.” He removed Pandora’s Box from his pocket and handed it to Xander.

  Xander grinned. “I finally figured out who you remind me of. Me.”

  Xiang laughed. “Other way around, Cage. Other way around.”

  Xander dropped Pandora’s Box onto the ground and smashed it under his foot. The team turned to walk away after that, except for Serena, who came toward him.

  Xiang removed the cigarette from his mouth and flicked it away. He then took an entire pack from his pocket, tossed it to the ground, and joined the others. “Not today,” he said.

  Xander looked at Serena, his expression serious. “What about the debris from the crash?”

  “From the reports we’ve gotten, a lot of it fell in the river. The rest was scattered and mostly landed outside the city. The stuff that did hit the city didn’t do much damage, and so far it looks like there were no casualties and only minor injuries.”

  Xander was relieved to hear it.

  He smiled at Serena then. “Still don’t believe in good guys?”

  She cocked her head to the side and gave him a half-smile. “It’s okay if you’re a little bad.”

  “How bad?” he asked.

  She stepped into his arms and kissed him. The embrace lasted for several moments, but then Xander heard a car approach. The rumble of the engine sounded familiar, and he stepped away from Serena and looked over to see a purple GTO pull up to the curb. The driver parked, got out, and started walking toward them.

  Darius nodded to the impact site. “That right there was a hell of an entrance,” he said.

  Xander nodded to the GTO. “That’s a hell of a car.”

  “Gibbons told me to keep an eye on it. He said I’d know why when I needed to.” Darius shrugged. “Now I know.”

  Xander and Serena held hands as the three of them walked over to the car. Xander gazed at the vehicle fondly. “It’s exactly how I left it.”

  “I took it on a few dates,” Darius said.

  “X takes care of its own,” Xander said. “That’s why I knew you’d come through.”

  “To get to work with the legendary Xander Cage? Hell, yeah. Where do I sign up?”

  Xander gave Darius a fist bump. “You just did.”

  “Now, you know you done took a piss on the wrong damn picnic,” Darius said. “The whole world’s gonna come after us.”

  Xander put his arm around Serena, and she smiled.

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.

  Darius grinned “Yeah.”

  11

  HOLY GRACE BAPTIST CHURCH, WASHINGTON, DC

  The choir sang a joyous rendition of “Oh Happy Day,”
the congregation on their feet, enthusiastically clapping along with the music. A large photo of Gibbons rested on a display easel in front of the pulpit. This might technically be a funeral, but the atmosphere was as much one of celebration as it was mourning—maybe more. This is the way to do it right, Xander thought. He hoped that when his time came, the people he loved would throw one hell of a party in his memory, one that would be talked about for decades afterward.

  He sat on a pew in the church’s upper level, watching the service from above. No one else was up here. He needed to be alone with his thoughts today, and he deeply appreciated that his friends understood and respected his desire.

  He watched as Serena—wearing a lovely but tasteful black dress—entered the church and headed for the front row of pews, joining their companions: Xiang, Adele, Becky, Tennyson, Nicks, Hawk, and Talon. It struck Xander that all of them were the team Gibbons had been trying to put together from the start, and now here they were, united at last. Only one person was missing… Then Xander saw Darius—dressed in a suit and tie—enter off to the side. The man stood for a moment, taking it all in, before joining the rest of the team. All of Triple-X, together at last.

  It’s too bad Gibbons can’t be here to see this, Xander thought.

  He heard soft footsteps on the stairs as someone made their way to the upper level. He wondered who it was.

  A man wearing a cap, dark glasses, and a brown leather jacket over a maroon sweater stepped onto the upper level

  He grinned at Gibbons. “Now that’s an impressive trick.”

  Gibbons smiled as he removed his cap. “What? You think you’re the only one who knows how to play dead?” He looked upon the congregation and shook his head. “It’s some pretty surreal shit being at your own funeral.”

  The pastor stepped up to the pulpit then and spoke into a microphone.

  “We thought we’d end with Augustus’s favorite song,” he said.

  The choir began singing “What a Wonderful World.”

  “I love this song,” Gibbons said, turning to Xander. “You know, it could be a wonderful world, too, if we’d stop doin’ bad shit to it.”

  “If you wanted me out of retirement, you could have just asked.”