Unborn

by Daniel Gage

  “Tea?” Sloane asked over her shoulder.

  “Please,” Emma answered.

  Sloane gestured for Emma to follow down a hallway. Sloane made her way as fast as her limb and cane allowed, and Emma gave her plenty of space. Her eyes glanced around, and Emma couldn’t help but notice the lack of pictures or other decorations. The home was bland and minimal, and it wasn’t a surprise; it reminded Emma of her own home.

  Emma sat at a modest kitchen table while Sloane set a pot on the stove.

  “I assume this isn’t a social call?” Sloane asked, her back to Emma. “Our kind don’t do that.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Emma admitted. “On both accounts.”

  Sloane turned and leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I got suspended,” Emma said.

  “Wow,” Sloane said. The only emotion she showed was a raised eyebrow. “That’s surprising.”

  “There was an incident,” Emma continued. “A massacre. I lost a team while going after Dealer X.”

  Now Sloane had both eyebrows raised. “You had a shot at him? And he took out a team? How did you get away?”

  “His name is Cam,” Emma said. “He’s an Unborn, and he’s able to fight them. There’s so much we don’t understand, Sloane. So much we didn’t know …”

  Emma’s voice trailed off. She had no idea how tough it would be to see her old partner again.

  “I don’t blame you, Emma,” Sloane said. “It was a job hazard. And we had no idea what would happen.”

  “But I could have been more prepared, more thorough—”

  “It’s okay,” Sloane said, interrupting her. “I’ve made peace with it, and retirement has had less bullets flying my direction.”

  “But why didn’t you take the cybernetics?” Emma asked. “Your leg, I mean, you’re not getting around very well.”

  Sloane smiled gently just before the kettle started to whistle. She took down two cups and filled them with the hot water as she continued. “If I took it, I’d risk the side effects. And becoming less human … it’s not appealing. Now, I know this isn’t about your suspension. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I didn’t drop the case,” Emma said. “Cam and I followed the trail to Paris.”

  “Not surprised,” Sloane said. She hobbled over to the table and set down both cups before easing into the chair opposite Emma. “So where’s Cam?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Emma said. “He … he found out I was withholding information. And the dealers got to him. He’s gone after his Benefactor, I think. And I’m out of leads.”

  The other woman sipped her tea as she absorbed Emma’s words. “You need my help.”

  “I just need a phone,” Emma said. “All I have is my company phone. I can call my client and get some support, and help me track down the Shift Zone. I only needed someone … someone I could trust.”

  A slight laugh escaped Sloane’s lips. “I’m flattered. I’ve got a line you can use. But I’m intrigued. Who’s the client?”

  Emma hesitated. Confidentiality was still on the table, but Sloane was former AFC. And Emma supposed she was soon to be unemployed as well. And she needed all the help she could get for a chance to stop the Shift from happening …

  “Monaco, the royal family,” Emma said. “The princess is expecting. And Leonard, the client, stole some financial information that could potentially cause a crisis, so we need to get in front of that.”

  “Wow, the dealers are moving up,” Sloane said. “Royalty … that’s a get. Okay, I’m in.”

  “Excuse me?” Emma asked. “Sloane, you don’t—”

  “I’m not exactly living the high life here,” Sloane said. “And I’m still a hell of a shot. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

  Sloane pushed herself up and retrieved her cane. She didn’t speak as she left the room, and Emma took that as a cue to follow. Sloane led her to a back room, and when she opened the door, Emma saw the cleanest room of the house.

  Weapons hung on the wall, with assorted ammo and explosives filling in the gaps.

  “So, retirement, huh?” Emma asked, grinning.

  “A girl has to have hobbies,” Sloane replied. “And retirement sucks.”

  “I’ve got a call to make first, but I can definitely use your help,” Emma said. “Where’s the phone?”

  Sloane hobbled across the room, but there was a new life to her step. Emma almost wondered if the other woman had been sitting around, waiting for an opportunity like this one. She also hoped that didn’t happen to her, either forced retirement or having to sit around and wait for life to happen.

  After rooting around a few drawers, Sloane produced a black cellphone. “It’s untraceable. Though I doubt anyone is listening to my lines.”

  Emma accepted the device and retrieved her own phone and found the number that Olivier had called her from. She dialed the number and, after steadying herself with a long breath, pressed send.

  It rang twice before someone picked up.

  “Hello, Emma Jennings for Olivier,” she said. “Please tell him it’s about the job.”

  She was afraid to say more until she actually got the head guard on the phone. Emma didn’t even know what to say when he was on the phone; she didn’t have the location of the Shift Zone, or even a lead other than the fact that Dealer X was in Paris.

  But before Olivier answered, Emma’s personal phone beeped. It was a text from Cam.

  Eiffel Tower. Tonight. They have the area locked down.

  She grinned. Cam came through after all.

  “Agent Jennings?” Olivier asked after the line connected. “What is it? Did something happen?”

  “Everything is okay for the moment, but I need help,” Emma said. “The Shift is happening tonight, and we need support. A team, firepower. Can you help?”

  “To protect the royal family?” Olivier asked. “Anything.”

  “Good,” Emma said with a glance and nod at Sloane. “We need to move fast. Listen close …”

  CHAPTER 33

  Emma stood in the small terminal at a tiny airport outside of Paris, her eyes fixated on the runway. The jet from Monaco had landed moments earlier, and she could see Olivier and a team of about a dozen men disembark and haul armfuls of gear off the vehicle.

  “Hope it’s enough,” she muttered before she pushed open the glass door and walked onto the tarmac.

  She approached Olivier with authority, her shoes crunching against the frozen ground. Olivier saw her and nodded, but otherwise, neither of them showed any emotion.

  “Emma Jennings,” he said. “Your intel was good. We verified that some aristocrat had paid to block off the tower for a private function.”

  Emma was glad to have it confirmed, in a way. The Eiffel Tower was a huge attraction, and the presence of people provided a cover of sorts to try to take down the dealers. But if the area was abandoned, there was a strong chance that Dealer X might not try to be very covert.

  “I’ve got someone I trust in position,” Emma said. “She should have a report soon. What did you bring?”

  “Myself and a dozen men, with some extra toys,” Olivier said with a grin. It was the most emotion Emma had seen him display. “I’ve got some equipment for you too. Also, some SUVs are on their way with experienced drivers. How long do we have?”

  “Not sure, but it can’t be long. The sun is setting,” she said. “Let me call my contact.”

  Emma turned away and called Sloane. She picked up after two rings.

  “They here?” Sloane asked.

  “Just landed, waiting on transport,” Emma said. “What’s the scene?”

  “They’ve set up barricades at the far streets, but it also looks like they’re geared for battle,” Sloane replied. “There are more barricades, and the hired help looks like a private army. Even an armored APC with a mounted gun. I’ve got clear lines to shoot, at least.”

  “Damn,” Emma swore. That was a lot of fi
repower. She and Cam must have rattled them at the airport. “And the package?”

  “No sign of dealers or a client. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Appreciate it,” Emma said. “Be there soon.”

  Emma turned back to Olivier. “They’re fortifying the tower. We’ll have a fight on our hands.”

  Olivier’s grin grew wider. “Good. I’d hate it to be too easy.”

  “Olivier, are you looking forward to this?” Emma asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Imagine your life behind a desk and dealing with vandals with cameras,” he replied. “No matter the money, you’d miss your old life.”

  He was right, of course. Much like Sloane just a few hours ago, Emma feared what a forced retirement would mean. And how much it would itch if she had to sit down for so long.

  She would also have to ask the guard what he did before royal security. It seemed like he, too, had stories to tell. Maybe Olivier, Sloane, and herself could drink to this after. And perhaps even Cam, if he wasn’t halfway to Italy by now.

  “I fear that day might be closer for me than I would have hoped,” Emma said. “How long until the SUVs are here? We need to get moving.”

  **********

  Once on the road, Emma’s mind turned tactical. They had only a dozen men, though they appeared well-trained. Sloane was in position with her sniper rifle, and that would be a huge advantage. But fighting against a private army, plus dealers, would be an uphill battle.

  She had texted Cam twice and even tried calling, but no answer. It never went straight to voicemail, so hopefully he just wasn’t able to answer or hear the ring. A million possibilities crossed her mind, to this being a diversion or a trap, that the dealers tricked or even killed Cam and used his phone to fool them, even going as far as to make it seem like the tower was the Zone.

  But she had no other leads, nothing else to go on. It was a foreign feeling, to trust someone so much, especially someone she hardly knew. Yet Cam was more than capable, and had risked his life to save hers. She had to trust that his information was reliable.

  Billboards and three-dimensional advertisements lined the buildings as their convoy drove past. Their neon glow would make any stealth approach difficult, as the tower itself was a pinnacle of modern advertising. The fact that night had fallen was almost irrelevant with the amount of artificial light in the city.

  Emma’s ear mic buzzed.

  “Jennings,” she answered.

  “We’ve got activity,” Sloane replied. “Looks like the package is arriving.”

  Olivier shot Emma a glance. Their conversation could be heard by everyone on the team.

  “We’re almost there,” Emma said. “How long do we have?”

  “Minutes,” Sloane said. “They don’t seem to be in a hurry. They’re moving aside barricades to get the car closer. And someone climbed the tower, and seems to be removing the safeguards. I’d shoot him, but he’s on the other side.”

  “There goes our element of surprise,” Emma sighed. “Olivier, we’re smashing through. What’s the ETA?”

  “Two minutes,” the lead driver replied. “Barricades are going to be a problem.”

  “Do what you can,” Olivier said. “We’ll handle the rest.”

  The driver acknowledged the order, and silence resumed.

  Emma hoisted her assault rifle and started to inspect the weapon, making sure everything would work as expected. She knew it was nerves, as she had already checked the rifle three times, as well as her vest and sidearm. She reached her hand into her pocket and thumbed the stunners she nabbed from Sloane’s house. They were a non-lethal flash-bang that blinded and deafened close targets, and had helped her out of jams on more than one occasion.

  There was nothing more she could do to be ready. It was now up to the action, to their small team overwhelming the dealers and their hired guns. And when Emma thought of it that way, it sounded insane.

  “Thirty seconds,” the driver reported.

  But this was it. It was her last chance to stop a birthright theft, take down Dealer X, and find out what exactly Leonard had stolen, so she could prevent that data from being used for harmful purposes.

  A squeal of tires and a sharp turn threw everyone to one side as the SUVs turned onto the final road.

  “Brace yourselves!” the lead driver shouted.

  “Sloane, cover fire!” Emma ordered.

  Emma cringed as the lead SUV crashed into the first barricade, sending plastic, metal, and various other materials flying in all directions. It was sturdier than she had hoped, and her SUV had to slam on the brakes. Gunfire answered their charge, and it all but stopped the momentum of their assault.

  They would need to find another way to get close.

  Before the vehicle stopped, Emma threw her door open and jumped out, weapon at ready. In front of her was a stunned gunman; he had been thrown aside when the first SUV made impact. He also wasn’t ready when Emma fired three quick shots center mass.

  The man’s body armor took the brunt of the attack, but the impact was enough to drive him to the ground. Emma charged, and she drove the butt of her rifle into the man’s head. He collapsed, out of the fight.

  Once he was subdued, Emma took cover behind one of the barricades as another gunman charged. His bullets whizzed over his head, and she ducked, but before she could raise her weapon, a hole appeared in his chest.

  “Thanks, Sloane,” Emma said.

  “Anytime,” Sloane replied, a smile in her voice.

  Olivier appeared next to Emma, sliding into cover.

  “We didn’t get far in,” he said. He raised his weapon over the barricade and fired, letting loose a few salvos before ducking out of harm’s way. “There’s a few more barricades, the APC, and then a large open distance to the base of the tower. We need a plan, Emma.”

  He was right. Her original plan was that they could smash through their defenses and get closer. Had they been able to get to the tower, they could have prevented them from climbing, forcing the dealers and their soldiers to fight through them.

  Now, it was reversed, and all they had to do was hold Emma and Olivier off long enough to allow Leonard into the Shift Zone.

  “Explosives,” Emma said. “How many do we have?”

  “Two launchers, grenades,” Olivier replied. Gunfire struck their cover, and a few shots broke through.

  “First launcher, use on the next barricade,” she said. “Then we charge. Go, go, go!”

  Olivier’s man with a launcher popped up over his cover and fired. The explosion lit up the night brighter than the nearby advertisements, and Emma waited no time to give the order.

  Emma shot to her feet and leapt over the barricade, firing at anyone in front of her. She quickly cleared the one struck by the rocket and was immediately opposed by the enemy.

  She fired, but the shots went wide as the man dropped into a crouch. His gun was up, and he had Emma dead to rights, the muzzle nearly point blank and aimed at her chest.

  Thankfully, Olivier was faster.

  He fired as he leapt over the hurdle. His shots missed, but it was enough to make Emma’s attacker react and dive for cover. Emma took the opportunity and fired again, catching the man center mass. He stopped moving.

  Emma and Olivier pushed ahead and took cover at the next barricade. The enemy assault increased, and it reduced any opportunity to return fire.

  “What’s next?” Olivier asked.

  “Same thing,” Emma said. “Unless you have any more ideas!”

  A new sound emerged over the rifle fire, and it took Emma a moment to place it. It was high-powered rifles, which meant enemy snipers had come into play. And she realized it too late.

  The man with the second rocket launcher had just leapt over the barricade when two shots hit him in the chest and head, immediately killing him. The launcher fell to the ground, well out of Emma’s or anyone’s reach, and in open ground.

  Anyone going for the weapon would be filled with metal insta
ntly.

  “Shit,” Emma swore. “Sloane, snipers. Can you handle them?”

  “They have me pinned with counter fire,” Sloane said, her voice strained. “And I have company coming up the stairs. Sorry, Emma. Good luck.”

  Emma swore again, only to have her thoughts drowned out by a new sound. The sound of a vehicle-mounted gun was being powered up, and soon their high-caliber rounds were striking their cover.

  They were screwed. Fucked. And Emma had led them to their demise.

  “Sorry, Olivier,” Emma said. “I tried. We tried.”

  But Olivier didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he seemed to be focused on something else.

  “Do you hear that?” he asked. “That rumble?”

  As men fell, Emma heard it too. It was far, but getting rapidly closer.

  “Oh God, now what…?”

  CHAPTER 34

  Sloane ducked behind the ledge as bullets narrowly missed her. The shooters were good; not as good as her, but good. It was a pitch-dark rooftop, one of the few in the area, which was why she picked it. They were likely using infrared to detect her heat signature, which was also why one of her tripwires just blew up a few floors below.

  But the infrared kept her pinned, and she would have to crawl to get away. That wasn’t easy with a bum leg, and the counter snipers would be able to see her every move.

  So she had to get rid of their ability to see her body heat.

  Digging into her pack, Sloane pulled out a pair of canisters. After shaking each one vigorously, she threw one to either side after popping their tops, and instantly, an icy-cold fog started to disperse on the rooftop.

  “Good luck seeing me now,” Sloane said with a grin.

  Leaving her rifle at the ledge, she drew a specially made pistol. Instead of firing regular rounds, or even specialty electric stun rounds, Sloane’s weapon fired shotgun shells. She preferred the diversity the rounds offered, as well as various degrees of damage or even non-lethal options.