The Seraphim Sequence tfc-2

by Nathan M. Farrugia

  She watched him take one deep breath.

  ‘Any chest pain?’ she asked.

  Schlosser shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘Good.’ She returned her attention to the front. ‘Grace, we need an exit.’

  ‘I’m not the Matrix,’ Grace said. ‘Wait one. OK, underground parking lot. Now.’

  ‘Not everyone’s an ex-shocktrooper,’ Sophia said. ‘We need actual directions.’

  ‘You need to get to the north wing, Padre Faura,’ Grace said. ‘I don’t care how you get there, Sophia, just do it.’

  ‘We’re heading north to—’

  Suddenly, the jeep lifted off the ground. Sophia felt pressure build suddenly inside her eardrums. She shut her eyes. Her body was thrown back into her seat. Someone was attacking the jeep — and she hoped that someone wasn’t a shocktrooper.

  When she opened her eyes again, the jeep’s hood was wrenched up against the windscreen, completely blocking her view. On either side, shopping bags and handbags were scattered everywhere. People were climbing slowly back to their feet in a state of shock and confusion. Their balance didn’t seem too great. Inner ear disturbance. Vortex ring gun.

  The ring part was spot on: her ears were still ringing. She scrambled to find her MP7. It had fallen by her feet. Her fine motor skills were scrambled to hell. Her heart raced. Then she remembered she could speak.

  ‘Shocktrooper,’ was the first thing she said. ‘We need backup. Jay. Grace. Anyone.’

  The MP7 slipped through her fingers. ‘Fuck.’ She reached for it again and found a firm purchase.

  ‘Where are you?’ Jay said into her ear.

  ‘Southeast, halfway up. We’re in the jeep.’

  ‘You’re in the jeep?’ Jay said. ‘This I gotta see.’

  ‘Nasira,’ Sophia called out. She looked over her shoulder. Nasira was unconscious.

  Someone appeared on Sophia’s left, just visible past the upturned hood. Shocktrooper. He raised a Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun to her face. She recognized the grenade launcher attached underneath. A grenade launcher loaded with a 40mm vortex ring grenade.

  The shocktrooper’s aim shifted from the jeep to behind her. There was a new player on the field and they were firing on the shocktrooper. At first Sophia thought it was Jay, but then rounds smacked into her side of the jeep, burying deep into the phone books by her legs. She ducked — the glass wasn’t bullet resistant. The shocktrooper fired a few rounds before retreating to the front of the jeep. With the hood open, Sophia couldn’t see him at all now.

  With a round in the chamber, she flicked off the safety and raised her MP7 close to her body. At such close range, she contemplated reaching for her knife instead.

  Benito was awake, dazed. Behind him, Nasira and Schlosser now had their wits about them.

  Rounds peppered the jeep.

  ‘Down!’ Sophia yelled. ‘Everyone down!’

  They couldn’t get out of the jeep; the shooters or the shocktrooper would fill them with holes in an instant. She gripped Benito’s leg, clamping it with her fingers to pull him out of shock.

  ‘There’s a shocktrooper in front of the jeep,’ she said. ‘Drive.’

  ‘I can’t see,’ Benito said.

  ‘Didn’t stop you driving through a glass wall.’

  ‘That’s a valid point.’

  The engine had stalled when they were hit, so he turned the key and fired the jeep up. More rounds, but they went wide.

  ‘Who the fuck is that?’ Nasira yelled from where she was hunkered in the back seat, her hand firmly over Schlosser’s neck to keep him down.

  Benito hit the gas. ‘Does it matter? They want to kill us!’

  The jeep lurched as the shocktrooper jumped onto it for cover. Rounds from the shocktrooper’s UMP punched through the hood, the windshield and into Benito’s headrest.

  ‘Stay down!’ Sophia said. ‘Cover your ears!’

  Benito could only cover one ear as he kept the other on the wheel. ‘I can’t do everything at once!’ he shouted.

  ‘Yes, you goddamn will,’ Sophia shouted back.

  She covered his other ear for him and fired her MP7 one-handed, aiming through the hood, guessing at where the shocktrooper was perched. Over Benito’s head, she saw the clothing shops on the right side getting dangerously close. He was veering off course. The jeep smacked sidelong against a bank’s glass wall. He wrestled the wheel left, smashing through a rack of clothing and back into the center. Through the gap under the flipped hood, she could see the shocktrooper’s legs. He was still clinging on.

  The jeep hit something and burst through. Dresses, handbags, watches and beaded jewelry exploded around her. She braced against the dashboard as Benito crashed the jeep through a row of fold-up tables and red tablecloths. A sunglasses rack toppled over the roof, pouring sunglasses into the jeep. Tables tumbled through the air around them like a deck of playing cards.

  ‘Nasira, is Schlosser OK?’ Sophia yelled.

  ‘In shock, but fine,’ Nasira said.

  The shocktrooper had disappeared. Either fallen or jumped, she figured. She risked a quick look out the window.

  ‘Pillar!’ she yelled.

  Benito hit the brakes. Sophia pulled the handbrake. He saw her do it and spun the wheel. The jeep screeched to a stop, coming up broadside to the pillar.

  ‘Out my side,’ Sophia said. ‘Nasira, I want numbers.’

  Nasira was down low, MP7 barrel resting on the window frame. ‘Four, five soldiers,’ she said. ‘One motherfucker down. Can’t shoot for shit at this distance.’

  ‘We’re coming to you,’ Grace said into her ear. ‘What’s your loc?’

  Sophia, scanning for the shocktrooper, helped Schlosser out of the jeep.

  ‘Two-thirds up from southeast entrance,’ she said. ‘Wherever the hell that is.’

  ‘Midtown wing,’ Grace said. ‘We’re on it.’

  Sophia heard another vector ring grenade detonate — a deep thud that reverberated through the mall. It bellowed from further south, near the advancing soldiers.

  ‘How many down?’ Sophia asked.

  ‘Soldiers, don’t know,’ Nasira said. ‘I think the shocktrooper is near them.’

  ‘Good.’

  Using the side of the jeep as cover, she kept Schlosser between her and Nasira. Benito scrambled from the driver’s seat, removing a pair of pink sunglasses from his face. Everyone was crouched on the left side of the jeep. The right side was exposed to the soldiers, although hopefully on the edge of their effective range.

  ‘This isn’t good,’ Nasira said. ‘These guys are pimping Heckler & Koch and riot helmets.’

  ‘Special Action Force, my guess,’ Sophia said. ‘We need to move north to the atrium. Nasira, I want you at the rear, Benito in front. Schlosser, right behind me at all times.’

  Schlosser stared vacantly past her, hands shivering.

  ‘Sir.’ She gripped his shoulder and squeezed.

  He looked at her, then nodded furiously.

  ‘Did you hear me?’ she said. ‘Stay behind me at all times.’ She looked over his shoulder at Nasira. ‘We need to keep him alive.’

  ‘We need to keep ourselves alive too,’ Nasira said.

  ‘Grace, what’s your loc?’

  No response. That wasn’t good.

  ‘On me,’ Sophia said.

  She pressed north, lining her team against the east side and taking them to the escalators ahead. If they made it that far without contact, she could get them to higher ground and have a better chance of slipping past the counter-terrorism troops and shocktroopers at the atrium.

  This operation had just become her worst nightmare.

  She moved up the escalator, her MP7 already aimed as she noticed someone crouched under the next row of escalators with a bullpup L22. Chickenhead.

  She lowered her barrel. Jay and DC appeared on her left, outside the Robinson’s Bank. Big Dog was crouched inside the bank, using the flat surface of the desk to support his bullpup.


  ‘Soph’s with us,’ Jay said into his mic, pistol in hand. ‘And the passenger,’ he added as Schlosser stepped off the escalator behind her.

  ‘Where’s Freeman?’ Sophia said.

  Jay thumbed toward the bank. ‘In there. Big Dog has him covered.’

  Sophia walked past him, her MP7 held at chest level. Her heart rate wasn’t going down just yet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jay said. ‘We need to move.’

  ‘Schlosser, Benito, in here,’ she said.

  She walked into the bank and headed for the teller counter at the end. Freeman was sitting in the far corner, an unlit cigarette between trembling fingers.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Sophia asked.

  ‘Nah, I’ll manage,’ he said.

  She took the cigarette before he could light it. She didn’t want him setting off the smoke alarm. The bank was empty, like the other stores, and the tellers area was sealed with a keypad security door. She stood in front of it, inspecting the numbers.

  ‘Benito, I need your expertise,’ she said.

  Benito turned to Freeman. ‘Hi. I’ll be needing your phone.’

  Freeman shoved a hand into his pocket for his smartphone.

  Jay came up behind her and punched four numbers into the keypad, then hit the hash key. The red light blipped. He tried the same numbers again, in a different arrangement.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sophia said. ‘You can’t just guess it, 007.’

  Jay shoved his way in front of her. ‘Who said I was guessing?’

  He tried a third time and the door jamb clicked. Green light. The door was unlocked.

  ‘How?’ Sophia said.

  Jay wiggled an eyebrow. ‘Someone here likes to use moisturizer with sunblock. Absorbs UV light.’ He pointed to his eyes.

  ‘And how does that help?’

  ‘The buttons glow,’ Jay said. ‘And hair glows too. And fingernails. And piss.’

  ‘Thanks Jay, lovely.’ She pushed the door open. ‘Schlosser, Freeman inside.’ She snatched the phone off Benito. ‘You too.’

  ‘Uh, what?’ Benito tried to reach for the phone.

  Sophia handed it to Freeman as he walked past her. ‘If anyone finds us in here, hit the security button to raise the barrier.’

  Benito nodded.

  ‘And if they get through that, you have my permission to kill them.’

  ‘I … I’d rather not do that,’ Benito said.

  She smiled. ‘They’ll have to get through me first.’

  Benito followed Schlosser and Freeman inside. She shut the door behind them. It clicked and the red light blinked.

  Jay looked less than impressed. ‘We have CT closing from the south and you wanna hang tight?’

  ‘Where were you planning on going?’ Sophia said, walking out of the bank. ‘Big Dog, how’s your ammo?’

  He released his magazine and checked. ‘Half and one full.’

  Not ideal, but he had more than she did.

  ‘We need to move now,’ Jay said. ‘The longer we dig in here, the harder it’ll be to break out.’

  Sophia paused ten feet from DC. ‘Grace, do you read?’

  ‘Hold your position,’ Grace said. ‘Prepare to cross the atrium.’

  Sophia felt a flush of relief. She wasn’t keen on trusting Grace in any capacity, but if she got them out of here then that was something.

  ‘Isn’t the atrium shocktrooper central now?’ Jay said.

  ‘How long?’ Sophia asked.

  ‘Just give us five,’ Damien said into her earpiece. He sounded slightly out of breath.

  ‘Standing by,’ she said.

  ‘I hope we have that long,’ Jay said.

  * * *

  Damien followed Grace up to the fourth level. It was completely empty, all the shops abandoned. Grace jumped the counter to a Jollibee Express and checked her Vector’s Glock mag. Damien crept closer to the balcony and cautiously looked down. Before he could get close enough, Grace stopped him.

  ‘Let me do that,’ she said.

  She jumped back over the counter and walked past him, flipping over a hood from under her T-shirt that concealed her face. Damien watched in disbelief as she shimmered into the air. He could still make out a slight distortion as she leaned on the balustrade and checked below.

  ‘Eight Special Action Force troops confirmed on level one,’ she said. ‘Two shocktroopers on level two, inside stores, cloaked.’

  She walked back to him, her body rippling into visible light.

  ‘You can turn invisible now?’ Damien said.

  ‘It’s called crypsis, and it’s mostly the chameleon suit under my clothes. But I do have octopus genes now.’ She shrugged matter-of-factly. ‘Pigmentation, reflectors, light scatterers.’

  ‘Charming,’ Damien said. ‘So I’m guessing the counter-terrorism guys haven’t noticed the shocktroopers.’

  ‘They don’t seem to be working together. That improves our odds slightly.’

  ‘Six and two, not bad. I mean, comparatively speaking.’

  Grace’s lips were pursed. ‘But shocktroopers, Damien. Two shocktroopers. And what could be two full units down there.’

  ‘You can cloak and see through freaking walls!’ Sophia cut in. ‘Instead of just sitting there—’

  ‘I can’t engage that many!’ Grace yelled.

  ‘Not liking what I’m hearing, guys,’ Jay said in Damien’s earpiece.

  ‘We’re cornered from three angles,’ Damien said.

  ‘It’s nice to be popular again,’ Jay said.

  Grace was pacing around Damien. He focused instead on the balustrade and the shocktroopers that lay in wait four levels below.

  ‘They’re drawing all of us to the atrium,’ Grace said. ‘CT and shocktroopers. And we’re doing exactly what they want.’

  Damien turned to see Grace standing in front of a fan. The cool air blew a loose strand of hair across her face.

  ‘Jay, what’s your locstat?’ she said.

  ‘We’re all together,’ Jay said. ‘One big happy family. Still at the bank.’

  ‘Head north now,’ Grace said. ‘But hold back from the atrium. We need to get you across without being noticed.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Jay said.

  Only Grace was able to cloak herself. They couldn’t get anyone else across that way.

  Damien strode toward the fan. ‘Is there anything bigger?’

  The store sold air coolers and conditioners. In the back corner he spotted a larger industrial fan, about thirty inches wide. He checked to make sure it was unplugged and carried it out, a bemused Grace watching. The fan was metal and heavier than he’d thought. He struggled as he placed it on the tiles beside her.

  ‘We could draw them back to the western wing,’ Grace said. ‘That should give the others enough time to make it across the atrium. If we’re all together, we have a chance. We could make it through the underground parking lot.’

  ‘I need as many Etch A Sketches as you can carry,’ Damien said.

  Grace stared at him blankly. ‘What?’

  He walked over to the information board and scanned for a toy store. ‘Toys R Us. Level three, Midtown Wing.’

  Grace didn’t look impressed. ‘That’s past the atrium.’

  ‘They’re not on three yet. Plus, you have crypsis or whatever.’

  ‘I can’t conceal all those Etch A Sketches,’ Grace said.

  Damien was only half-listening. He was busy scanning the information board until he spotted a grocery store. Level one, north end. That would work.

  ‘I have some shopping to do,’ he said.

  ‘We don’t have time, Damien. I’m not letting you.’

  ‘You have to,’ he said evenly. ‘Meet me back here.’

  He expected her to call him off, but she didn’t. Something behind her eyes clicked into place. ‘Go,’ she said.

  Damien sprinted into the brightly lit evacuated supermarket. There was no sound except the rumbling of air-conditi
oning units and the scratching of fluorescent lights, but that was probably just his infrasound hearing. He paused to snatch a plastic shopping basket before moving along the aisles, checking the signs above. When he found the aisle he needed, he filled the basket with all the coffee creamer on the shelf, then moved to the cocoa and did the same. He noticed an abandoned shopping trolley. He dumped his basket inside the trolley along with his MP7 and wheeled it into the next aisle, knocking over a display of fruit.

  In the baking goods aisle, he loaded the shopping trolley with as many bulk flour packets as he could find, then wheeled the trolley to the fruit and vegetable section. Trays of vegetables lined one side of the aisle. He grabbed a tray and tipped the fruit out, then tossed the tray into his trolley. He did the same with five more trays, then wheeled the trolley out of the supermarket. The trays would come in handy.

  He halted outside, realizing he’d forgotten something. He ran back in and snatched a handful of matchboxes. While he was there he grabbed an economy pack of toilet paper. He froze. Men in black uniforms moved past the supermarket entrance, weapons raised. Special Action Force troops.

  One, two, three moved past without glancing in his direction. His MP7 was still in the trolley and his P99 pistol was in his jeans. His hands were full with toilet paper. He hoped they didn’t notice the MP7 or the strange collection of items in the shopping trolley and suspect he was here.

  The fourth CT soldier moved past, wielding a Benelli M4 shotgun. Damien remained frozen, trying not to draw attention to their peripheral vision. The fifth CT soldier hustled past, his head panning and tilting as he moved. In mid-stride, he turned his Heckler & Koch G36C subcarbine toward Damien.

  A hot wash ran from his head to his feet. He dropped the toilet paper and drew Sophia’s P99 from his jeans. His pistol came up close to his body. Round already in the chamber, he aimed for the CT soldier’s face. From this range, anywhere on the face would be a lucky hit. Center of mass was a surer shot, but the soldiers’ vests could easily defeat a.40 round.

  He aligned the P99’s sights and squeezed. The CT soldier dropped, the momentum of his walk carrying him forward as two of Damien’s rounds exploded under the helmet.

  Damien ran to the rear of the supermarket. Stepping over the boxes and toilet paper, he slid the last five feet and rolled out of view, pressed himself up against the end of an aisle. He was in the red zone now, his heart rate probably pumping over 120. He checked his magazine. Two rounds, and one in the chamber. Trapped in a supermarket with half a dozen CT soldiers, and all he had was three rounds. This wasn’t going to end well. In every operation he’d taken part in, he’d been scared. That was a given. But right now he was terrified.