She stared at him for a moment, lying crumpled behind a row of large crates against the wall, two of his marines fallen on either side, almost on top of him in their futile efforts at protection. Duong's lifeless hand still gripped a pistol, heat-scan showed the muzzle still warm. His stern, hard features were frozen in a sightless grimace. Most dead people Vanessa had seen appeared astonished at their own demise. The Admiral looked affronted, as if scandalised that death should dare such an improper advance.
"We lost the Admiral," she heard herself say. "I count eight dead marines, mostly head-shots." Her soldier's mind had little difficulty reconstructing the final moments-the panic, the wild shots in the dark, the fast, lethal shape that moved and fought with inhuman speed and precision. She'd seen it herself. Had faced it, in combat drills against Sandy, when she had volunteered to demonstrate the difficulties of facing GIs at close quarters. She'd often been cautious with Sandy, knowing what she was, but never, ever genuinely afraid. Until now.
"Major," came Lieutenant Hiraki's hard voice over tac-net, "I have movement at CT2." The graphic flashed up on Vanessa's visor ... the Chambers' north wing, one level above ground floor. And suddenly she could see what Hiraki saw-a motion sensor graphic that told of a single figure moving fast through deserted passages and rooms.
"Shut him off!" Vanessa snapped, hurdling the bodies of dead marines as she rushed back the way she'd come. "Be highly visible, let him see you! Flush him toward our best firezones!"
"Copy that," came Hiraki's terse reply, and tac-net showed gold squad moving rapidly to comply. Vanessa crashed out into the corridor, gathering her troops as she went. Tac-net highlighted a possible route from the target to the gardens outside ... Vanessa blinked it away with irritation, there was no way this GI was headed outside where his advantages would be neutralised. No, there had to be another way.
"Alpha One, stay put ..." as she darted a quick glance at the next cross-junction, then rushed onward, "... this could be a ploy to get you out of the kitchen. Command, tac-net's telling me all underground access is secured but won't say how-can you confirm?"
There was a pause as someone back at HQ rushed to check that request. Vanessa headed for the nearest small, service staircase, bashing a door off its hinges and rushing upward. One of the Trishuls was requesting permission to fire, hovering in low besides the Chambers' north wing.
"Permission granted," Vanessa replied, breathing hard as she raced into the empty upper corridor, noting that Hiraki's unit had now left its perimeter position and was entering the north wing on the ground floor. Abruptly the target vanished, as the motion-sensor lost acquisition.
"He's descending," Hiraki announced. "Give me a full defensive spread, he's not getting out this way. "
"Major," came HQ's delayed reply in her ear. "We read all underground transit access as blocked by security measures ... "
"Yeah, but how?" Vanessa retorted, panting. "Welded plates, ferrocrete blocks, what?"
"The records don't specify."
"Then get onto whoever wrote the fucking records and ask them! Fast!"
It was yet another of those things that weren't within her purview of responsibility. A mere CDF major didn't have the time or resources to triple check every entry into the database-she was forced to assume the people who'd done so were competent, and go from there.
Fire erupted on tac-net audio, armour-readings showed several members of gold squad firing, tac-net flashed their visuals up on Vanessa's visor, and for a brief moment she saw a lower corridor erupting with assault-rifle fire, but no sign of a target.
"I think I got him!" That was Private Zainuddin, harsh and breathless.
"Gold four, target 360, brace!" That was Hiraki, cover screening fast west behind his line ... he must have seen something. Another burst of fire, then ...
"Fuck, I'm hit!"
"Stay down, four ... three and six, pincer flank, lay it down!" More dots moved to comply on tac-net, a coordinated formation switching to cover a moving target, laying down fire as they went. Vanessa raced into the north wing main hall, across a broad floor of patterned tiles and chairs for waiting, large wall display screens blank in the deserted silence ...
"Alpha Leader," she announced, "this one's not staying to fight, he's buggin' out! Get to the surface now, move move move!" And saw a sudden rush of activity from the lower kitchen as Alpha Team sprang into action, rushing all VIPs out of the kitchen. Vanessa raced across a broad food court behind huge stone pillars, dodging past chairs and tables and sprinting up the main north wing passage, hearing gunfire directly ahead now over the thudding of her team's footsteps. Explosions, as Hiraki let loose grenades at a speculated target ... and Vanessa saw a sharp flash of movement upon Private Leung's transmission, then static.
"Leung's down," Hiraki announced. "The target's headed for the CT4 stairwell."
"Got that," said Vanessa, and turned to leap down the next broad stairway, newly installed signs upon the walls indicating the underground transit down this way ... a quick glance at Leung's vitals showed that he was dead. "Secure the stairwell, watch for booby traps, he might have had plenty of time to set up. I'll take the station's south end."
The corridors opened into what would become a mass transit entry when the Chambers opened, designed for the thousands of commuting staff who would work in the Grand Council Chambers. The ramp walkway sloped steadily downward. Vanessa switched her helmet's optics to tripwire scan, but saw nothing. Yadav on her left side, Silchenko on her right, Hussein guarding their rear, they hurdled the ticket scanners, past broad display screens of the underground network and train timetables. Vanessa skidded low to the corner of the first of multiple descending stairways on the right, Yadav and Silchenko racing across to take up covering positions. From the position of the stairwell Hiraki's target had gone down, Vanessa reckoned even a GI would take a full minute longer to get to the platform ... but would be much closer to the north-end tunnel, and escape, when he came down.
She plunged around the corner and down the stairs, well aware that against a GI, the first indication that they were under fire would come when the point man took a bullet through an eye socket ... but she was senior, and if she didn't set the example, lesser ranks could be forgiven for never advancing at all against GIs. Down the steps alongside silent, stationary escalators and blank panels where advertisements would soon garishly adorn the walls.
Then she hit the bottom, and found herself on a broad, empty central platform between two half-completed magnetised rail lines. Yadav, Silchenko and Hussein came down behind, and she gestured them to spread out, Yadav with her, the other two on the other side. Yadav leaped down onto the tracks, to cover that low angle, while Vanessa crept with slow, careful steps along the platform, weapon and helmet vision scanning, trying to keep every heavy footstep, every rattle and creak of armour, to an absolute minimum. She could see the left-side tunnel entrance ahead-the right was blocked by the central shop cubicles and central elevators, but she had a clear feed from Hussein and Silchenko. Nothing. The silence was eerie, broken only by the soft background chatter on tac-net-red and green squads cleaning up some final resistance out at the residential blocks, Alpha Team leading VIPs to safety and evacuation on ground level, perimeter units rearranging positions to maintain full coverage ... tac-net muted it all, aware that none of it was directed at her, nor required her immediate attention.
A minute flicked past. He should have been down by now. Vanessa scanned quickly over the regional schematic once more, wondering if maybe he'd backtracked on a lower level and would come down behind them ... the schematic showed it wasn't possible, the traffic-flow management design had ensured that all passages up from the station went directly to the Chambers' ground floor with no intersecting. But then, if the schematics were untrustworthy ...
"No booby traps on the stairwell," came Hiraki's voice, "I'm approaching ticket level, no sign of target." The vitals of his remaining squad members were all displayed green-tac-net immedi
ately informed the direct commander if they ceased, a precaution that was especially necessary when facing GIs. Often opposing soldiers didn't have enough time for a syllable's warning.
"Nothing here yet," Vanessa replied, trying to keep her voice level, for the sake of her guys. It was difficult, her breathing coming in sharp, rapid gasps, and only partly from the long run. Sensors did not indicate so much as a breath of air moving through the tunnels. Maybe they were sealed further down. "I don't trust these schematics entirely, stay alert. He might be hiding somewhere between us, or waiting for ..."
A single shot cracked off the high walls and ceiling, and Silchenko's vitals leaped, then flatlined. "Down!" yelled Vanessa, and hit the platform on braced elbows, then sprayed fire across her most likely guess. Glass panels on intervening platform structures exploded, Yadav's fire joining hers from above the platform rim. Vanessa pumped a grenade into an elevator for luck, the explosion ripping debris across the platform and rails.
A grenade shot hit the wall opposite Hussein's position, crouched low on the right-side rails, the blast knocking him over, showering him with debris. Tac-net attempted to trace the grenade trajectory from the angle of the explosion ... Vanessa reached a half-crazed decision and shoved herself up into a low run, crossed between two intervening platform structures, and went into a sliding crouch across the tiles to open up an angle on the right-side rails. Something moved lightning quick across the platform ahead, and Vanessa flung herself back, shots cracking millimetres from her nose to shatter glass behind her. She rolled up with her back to the store cubicle before her, surrounded by shattered glass, and heard the next grenade shot a split second later ...
"Down!" she yelled, and saw the platform just in front of where Yadav was peering over the rim explode in flames and shattered tiles. She sprang up and fired through shattered glass, pumping her own grenades in quick succession, and saw a lean, dark figure somehow, inhumanly leaping and rolling across the platform a few centimetres ahead of her bullet strikes ... grenades hit the platform, and blew that view to hell. Vanessa stared through the erupting debris, weapon ready with trembling intensity, waiting for the dark figure to reappear above the rim of the left-side platform where it'd gone ... and recalled, in a fractional second's memory, Sandy's calm analysis of GI reaction times versus those of even the best humans. She dropped quickly behind cover, just as the next shot nearly clipped the top of her helmet.
"Major!" shouted Hussein.
"No!" Vanessa shouted as he leaped from the rails onto the platform rim, and ran low and crouched to her position, laying down expert cover fire as he came. "Get d-"
Another shot, Hussein's head snapped back, and the armoured suit crashed to the platform like a stringless marionette. Vanessa held back a scream, biting down hard to keep the tears from her eyes. Yadav's vitals were still active, but brainwave activity showed him unconscious. She was dimly aware of Hiraki's voice, harsh with anxiety.
"Major, do you require assistance! Should I continue to hold this position!" Usual strategy was that he would hold that position for her group to flush the target in his direction. He did not have command authority on the tac-net, he didn't have access to everyone's vitals as she did.
"No," Vanessa found herself answering. "Don't come down. Stay where you are." It was just murder. She knew what would happen next. She couldn't bear to see her old friend Hitoru Hiraki add his own corpse to the pile. She levered herself up to peer through the shattered glass, rifle ready. She had no vision below the lip of the platform, now. Asking for help to acquire that vision was impossible-anyone who came within line-of-sight of this GI was dead.
She was only a little surprised when she heard the crunch of a footstep directly behind her. She spun, knowing it would be the last thing she ever did ... her weapon hit something immovable-a hand, she registered, clamped around the muzzle of her rifle. Another hand smashed her armour in the chest, and she was flying backwards into the wreckage of the platform cubicle, minus her weapon. The remains of the glass wall collapsed on her. And then she was staring up at the dark, leather and synthetic-clad figure before her, clutching her own weapon by the muzzle in one hand, another pointed directly at her face.
Several seconds passed, and Vanessa realised she was still alive. Perhaps there was some use to paying further attention, if just for a few more seconds enlightenment. The GI, she noticed with no real surprise, was female. Broadly built, but of only moderate height. Famil iarly broad, in fact, with shortish blonde hair. So familiar, in fact, that ... but a direct gaze at the face dispelled that sudden horror as fast as it arrived-it was a stranger's face that gazed down upon her, cool and emotionless. A leaner face than Sandy's. Not as attractive. There was no light in her eye, no familiar, subtle expression. Vanessa sensed nothing of warmth or humanity from her. It was as if the space before her was just void, occupied by a lethal, human shell.
"Helmet," said the GI. The voice was as flat and emotionless as the face. The weapon in one hand gestured at her helmet, wanting it to come off. Vanessa's hands reached for the seal beneath the chin, moving dazedly, as if on automatic. Snap, and the chinstrap came away, then the breather mask and visor unsealed with a release of pressure. Vanessa pulled the helmet off, feeling her short hair plastered and sticky beneath, cold with sweat in the open air. She disconnected the insert from the back of her head, and felt the flow of tac-net information abruptly cease, all additional visions and patterns vanishing from her mind's eye. The GI just looked at her. If she was curious or surprised, amused or angry, she gave no sign.
"Vanessa Rice," said the GI. "You're Cassandra Kresnov's friend." Somehow, that didn't surprise her much either. It wasn't exactly classified knowledge.
"I am," Vanessa replied, her voice hoarse with defiance. "You remember that, just before she kills you." For the first time, there was a glimmer of reaction in the GI's eyes. Perhaps amusement. Perhaps anticipation.
"I expect she'll try," was the reply. The voice remained as flat as before. "You nearly managed today. You're an excellent soldier, for a straight." Somehow it didn't sound like much of a compliment. The GI walked across crunching glass, and put a foot on Vanessa's armoured chest, the rifle muzzle held unwaveringly to her forehead. In the armour suit, she might have tried to trip the GI, and wrestle. Except that she'd tried that before with Sandy, in power armour, as had several others who'd dared. None of the fights had lasted more than a few seconds, except when Sandy prolonged them by not trying as hard, for demonstrative purposes.
"I want you to tell her something," the GI continued. "Tell her that if she wants to disable the killswitch, she'll have to contact me. Otherwise it will kill her. It's just a matter of time."
"Not before she gets you, you mechanical piece of shit."
The GI nearly smiled. Nearly. "Her time is shorter than she thinks. I know. Tell her to contact me, or she'll die."
The dropping knee-smash, like all the GI's other moves, came out of nowhere.
CHAPTER
andy strode fast along the corridor, Hiraki leading the way, rifle to his shoulder and a mean swagger to his step. Soldiers moved aside in passing. Many recognised her, despite the dark hair, and saluted. Some stopped in their tracks, and snapped off salutes so crisp they sizzled, defiance in every postured muscle.
When they reached the entrance to the med-bay, Hiraki took up guard, rifle at cross-arms. "I'll be okay," Sandy told him.
"Even so," said Hiraki, scanning one way, then the other, with slanted, dangerous eyes. He was, Sandy had gathered, in an exceptionally bad mood. First, Vanessa had held gold squad back from the airborne assault on the residential buildings the missiles had come from. Then she'd held him in place while the GI had killed two of Vanessa's squad and then escaped. In Sandy's estimation, Vanessa had been right on both calls-the first because the threat assessment against an offensive assault at the buildings was low, and she'd wanted her best squad leader in reserve for something more serious; and the second because if Hiraki had gone into t
he Chambers' station, he and most of his squad would also have been dead. Lieutenant Hiraki, of course, didn't see it that way.
"You've got duties," Sandy reprimanded him. "I don't need an armed guard in my own building."
"It's not your building, it's the government's." Hiraki didn't even look at her. "You need a ranking officer here in case of wandering bureaucrats."
"I won't get reported." A pair of CDF soldiers passed, recognised her and snapped salutes. Everyone knew she wasn't allowed to be here. The expressions on passing faces was enough to suggest that even General Krishnaswali might not discover her presence until she was gone. And if he ordered her detained, it was unlikely to be obeyed. "Get back to your unit, that's an order."
"You're out of uniform," Hiraki said pointedly. "I'm not." Sandy half-rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Fine, have it your way." She walked into the med-bay, and found seven of the twenty main beds were occupied. Vanessa was up at the end, propped on her pillows with her head bandaged, reading over various comp-slates, a half-eaten sandwich and a steaming cup on the bed tray to her side. She met Sandy's gaze immediately. Sandy felt her heart leap, with an unexpected shock of relief and fear ... it could so easily have been different, and now it really hit her. Vanessa returned a faint smile. Sandy responded, then stopped by the first bed, where a private named Rafale-one of Hiraki's-was lying.
Killswitch: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1) Page 19
