The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic

by Michael Ivan Lowell

  Lantern was busy monitoring any potential attempts by Tarleton to make good on his promise of a few hours before. Sophia’s chair was empty. John Bailey’s chair was empty. Ramsey Hollis’s chair was empty. Events had moved so fast the past year sometimes they even forgot about the seafaring hero who had lost his life in the Boston Harbor.

  And then there was Drayger’s chair.

  It had been moved out into the lab, just for the principle of the matter.

  Revolution had just begun to speak when to everyone’s surprise—

  Spectral and the Lady Rage entered the room.

  All three heads turned their way.

  Revolution peered over at Spectral, who nodded.

  Scarlett’s face was a map of anxiety. “We cannot allow my father and the Aztech to continue their reign of terror. We’ll join you, but I have one condition and it’s not negotiable.”

  Revolution peered around at Ward and Rachel, both of whom looked far from certain.

  “What is it?” he asked her.

  “Each of you has to promise that you will kill me.”

  Ward’s jaw dropped.

  “No problem,” Rachel said flatly.

  “Uh...” Ward stammered.

  “If I’m captured. I can’t let them do to me what they’ve done to my father,” Scarlett clarified.

  The room let out a collective breath.

  “Whew! I’m glad you added that last part!” Ward said.

  But now he turned to Rachel with a shocked expression.

  “What?” she said defensively. She smirked at Scarlett. “Look, you’re hot, I love the choker, but I’m sorry. Kill the Lady, save the world? I’ll take that deal all day.”

  Ward shrugged.

  Revolution was all business. “Pull up a chair, then.”

  On screen were profile pics of the three main baddies: Aztech, the Doctor, and Von Cyprus.

  “The only chance we have is to take these three down in the right order,” he said.

  “How do we find them?” Rachel asked.

  “Tarleton’s Pod made a stop in D.C. and then flew on to Freedom Rise. I suspect with Tarleton on board. Lantern’s monitoring mobilizations. If he gets a hit, he’ll let us know.”

  “What about that Photuris thing?” Ward asked. “We’ve already tussled with it, and I think I speak for everyone here when I say it sucked.”

  “The Photuris seems to have been designed for Fiona and—”

  The general alarm blared in their ears.

  Lantern’s helmeted face appeared on the Sit Room’s main screen. “Sir, I’ve just detected a sonic boom outside our security perimeter.”

  “Source?”

  “Looks experimental. Probably a scramjet.”

  “What’s a scramjet?” Ward asked.

  “Hypersonic,” Revolution told him. He nodded to Lantern. “Does it look armed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Revolution said, “What’s its payload? Will our defenses hold?”

  “That’s the thing, sir. Each sector’s defenses fell seconds before it got there.”

  “Are you getting a reading on what’s causing it?”

  Lantern’s voice filled with dread. “I don’t trust the reading, but...Kiernan Rage, sir. If this is real we don’t have much time.”

  Revolution rammed his fist down on the counter, denting the steel. “Initiate Protocol! I want this facility evacuated immediately!”

  Revolution turned to those in the room. “Battle stations, all of you! Code Alpha. If the Doctor is here, he won’t be alone.”

  Ward swallowed as he pictured the Aztech and the Photuris floating above them, ready to strike.

  The room was a blur of motion. The Suns—which now included Spectral and the Lady Rage—headed out, moving to their assigned positions.

  Code Alpha was the highest alert the HQ had. Ward was assigned to stay with Revolution. The general plan was to give cover to the HQ’s non-powered civilian population so that they could have time to escape out of the underground tunnels and lower levels. The Suns would fight as long as they could—and they had their own escape route.

  Assuming any of them would be alive to use it.

  No one had ever planned for an attack by Doctor Rage and the Aztech at the same time.

  Lantern interjected from the com. “Sir, I’m not sure we can get everyone out in time.”

  “Then we get as many out as we can.” Revolution glared at the screen.

  “Where do we go once we’re out? What’s left, other than here in Boston?” Ward asked him.

  Revolution said nothing for what seemed to Ward a long moment. Then he lifted his head and glared at Ward, who was the only other Sun left in the room. “Maryland. We’re going to pick up Sophia’s body and bring our girl home. And then, I’m going to find Tarleton and kill him.”

  A large explosion rang out across the facility.

  “Sir, the aircraft is already here. Rage has been manipulating my readings the whole time. I’m sorry—”

  The Sit Room plunged into darkness.

  Lantern’s face and voice blinked away. The room was pitch black. Ward couldn’t see a thing. Damn, he wished he’d had his suit on. The auxiliary lights flashed on and—

  “Fuck!” Ward screamed.

  The Revolution was standing inches from his face.

  “You scared the shit out of me!”

  Revolution said nothing.

  “Hey, you alright?”

  Revolution just stood there.

  “Your suit must have no power, huh?” Ward said, eyeing him up and down. “Was that an EMP? Did the outage take out your—”

  Ward’s voice gasped away...

  As Revolution sprang to life—and punched him in the gut.

  CHAPTER 44

  As one of the Dark Patriot’s undercuts goes, it was a pretty light blow, but with nothing to protect him from it, Ward was still lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall behind him. The professor’s head clanged with pain and colors flashed before his eyes. He gasped for air as his diaphragm spasmed.

  Revolution charged forward. His voice, unfiltered by the suit, was muffled behind the metal. It sounded different.

  “Paul, run!”

  In that moment, Ward realized he was hearing the Revolution’s true voice for the first time. Ward was confused. “What? Why did you—”

  “This isn’t me. It’s Kiernan Rage. Run!”

  Ward tried to rise, but Revolution was on him instantly. He lifted both of his titanium fists, locked them together, and slammed them down toward Ward’s exposed head.

  But just before they reached him—

  Revolution froze, his hands less than an inch from Ward’s doomed skull. Ward didn’t need an invitation. He lurched out from under him, rolled to the side—just in time to dodge the Revolution’s body as it crashed into the concrete floor, carried forward by momentum.

  Why had he hesitated?

  Whatever the reason, it meant Ward was still alive. Maybe Rev was fighting back somehow?

  Ward leapt to his feet and darted out the door.

  Revolution was right behind him. He’d charged to his feet in an instant.

  Ward was in full sprint across the lab. He heard Revolution smashing into things behind him. If Doctor Rage was in control of Revolution’s armor, he was not doing a very good job of it. Revolution trudged forward with no accounting for what was in front of him. When he got to a desk he smashed through it. As he passed through a doorway, he misjudged it and took half the door frame with him. All of this clumsiness slowed him down just enough to keep Ward a few steps ahead.

  Half of the Boston compound’s main floor was office and laboratory space. The other half held a helicopter hangar bay and a weapons training facility. Ward was sprinting through the lab now, and he knew where he needed to go.

  In front of him, he could see the large metal door separating the lab and offices from the massive hangar where Stealthhawk-2, their training facility, and a host of
weapons were all housed. If he had any hope of defending himself against Rage/Rev, that’s where he had to get to.

  And that’s when the building exploded.

  The walls to Ward’s right shattered as veiny spindles of black lightning ripped through them. Further back, and at the exact same time, beams of orange bioluminescence cut through the structure’s exterior walls, incinerating everything in their path.

  Ward dove for cover, skidding under a desk, ramming painfully into chairs, table legs, and anything else in his way.

  And then he heard the sound.

  Zing-rat-a-tat-tat-tat.

  Three of the Aztech’s “celestials” flew just above his prone body, spinning destructive lasers in all directions. They were each as large as a tractor tire. They made devastating circular saws that cut through everything they touched.

  The horrific memory of watching Sophia’s arms being sliced off by them flashed across his mind, and he shivered so hard he moaned.

  With just a few passes of the deadly disks, the first floor of the building was going to be demolished, Ward feared.

  And then it all stopped.

  Silence.

  The air was thick with dust and debris, but the first wave of the attack seemed to be over. Better yet, there was no sign of the Revolution.

  Ward jumped up and headed toward the hangar. The giant metal door was no longer there. There was simply a gaping hole in the wall. He ambled through, over piles and chunks of concrete. Fire and smoke filled the Hangar.

  He waved through the fog of it, coughing and hacking, and then, emerging slowly from the haze, he saw what he had come to find...

  The Stealthhawk-2.

  Utterly destroyed.

  Shit!

  And out from behind it leaped the Revolution, heading right for him. The man in the metal raised his arms. He was about to fire his cylinder grenades.

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  “Run, Paul!” he heard the man inside the metal say.

  Ward stumbled backwards, tripping over a chunk of the blasted outer wall.

  He fell.

  Revolution took two fast steps, set his feet, grenade launchers aimed.

  Ward gasped—

  As Spectral rose through the floor right in front of him. He solidified from his light-form.

  Revolution fired the grenades.

  As fast as light, Spectral raised his energy field, and the grenades exploded against it. The sound was deafening, so Ward could not hear what the android said to him as it turned its head and spoke.

  But he got the gist of it:

  Run!

  Ward turned to flee back through the lab, dodging around consoles, leaping over fallen chairs, but just as he was nearing the other side a great tree of black lightning ripped through the lab to his left, erasing equipment and even some of the floor from physical existence.

  Ward could now see straight through to the first subterranean level of the compound. He changed direction and charged to his right, zipping blindly through the smoke as it began to invade his lungs. His eyes watered; his throat burned. He had no idea what was in front of him.

  A roaring sound like a tornado assaulted him from above, and he saw a massive column of orange energy illuminate the smoke and slash though what was left of the ceiling, taking out more of the hangar’s floor. Again he could see through to the next level below. How long could the floor hold?

  That was answered quickly by a loud snapping sound. The floor, for as far as he could see through the smoke, began to crack and split, giving way. The entire compound was collapsing in on itself. The floor fell away, and the collapse was racing toward the section he was standing on.

  Shit! Ward turned and fled the other way.

  All around him intense columns of black or orange energy erased the building little by little. The beams burned through the roof and walls, causing small explosions as they destroyed the scientific equipment in the lab and various weapons in the hangar. And through it all the Aztech guided its devastating celestials through what remained.

  If hell could ever exist on Earth, this was surely what it would look like.

  “Paul! Get your ass over here!” It was Rachel’s voice. He squinted through the smoke, locked on to her silhouette, and ran toward her as fast as he could. He had no idea what part of the building he was in anymore. Animal survival instincts were about all he had left.

  She was all the way on the other side of the hangar, standing there with Lantern and Scarlett. He was relieved to once again recognize some of his surroundings.

  Scarlett was sprinting toward him, he realized. He’d never been so glad to see her.

  He charged forward to meet her, but Scarlett never even glanced his way as she shot past him. Instead, she was locked in on the spot where Revolution and Spectral were no doubt still throwing down.

  “Get to that sub! I’ll take care of those two!” Scarlett yelled to him.

  Ward stopped and watched her sprint away. And then she was gone into the smoke.

  “Ward, c’mon! Move your sweet ass!” Rachel shouted.

  When Ward reached them he saw a door labeled “Emergency Exit.” He’d become so disoriented in the chaos that it didn’t hit him where they were until Lantern grasped the handle and turned it hard. The door reacted from some kind of pressure release as damp air spewed out of the sides, and it swung open to reveal a steep, narrow, dimly lit stairwell leading down into the bowels of the building.

  Lantern waved them in. “Let’s go, it’s a long way.”

  He was right. The stairway seemed to descend forever.

  Waiting for them below, Ward realized, was something he had heard about but had never seen: the emergency escape submarine. Built to provide Leslie a means of escape. Most major Resistance HQ’s were built near large bodies of water, and most had similar systems. Ward knew he was not the Resistance’s only wealthy benefactor, but even this stripped-down sub must have cost a fortune.

  Cracks and snaps echoed from above. Streamers of debris and dust plummeted around them. They took the stairs two and three at a time as the entire building continued its steady collapse.

  CHAPTER 45

  Revolution was helpless. He fought Doctor Rage’s control of his armor with everything he had, but the Doctor’s command was far too powerful. Revolution’s automatic neural connection to the functions of the suit had been all but severed. Too bad that didn’t extend to feeling the damage the suit sustained.

  Searing heat burned into his chest as Spectral blasted away with his optical lasers. The discharge lifted him, knocking him into the twisted, smoldering mess that was the Stealthhawk-2. Shredding and denting the metal in a loud screech. His chest burned like hot cinders were being pressed to it. And, unlike in the past, the painkillers didn’t flood his system.

  Instead, he felt his arms being raised, and that same energy shot right back out at the android. Who simply phased to light-form and let it pass right through him. Revolution could tell that the Doctor was running out of options with Spectral. So, the Doctor played the only card he had left.

  Spectral froze, and Revolution knew he had fallen under the Doctor’s spell as well.

  A whir in his ears, and his suit was turning. Spectral was stepping forward at the same time. Was the Doctor going to have the two of them kill each other, he wondered.

  The android simply stepped up to his side, both of them facing the outer wall of the compound—and then that wall erupted in a blast of orange and black. The roof that had once been connected to the now vaporized section of retaining wall bowed and collapsed.

  A straight path to the street had opened up directly in front of them.

  And then they were walking.

  Marching right out into the haze-covered sunlight of a morning in Boston. Smoke from the smoldering HQ hung thick in the air.

  The Doctor had indeed given up on having him and Spectral fight each other. Instead, he’d line
d them up in a shooting gallery. Standing fifty feet away in the swirling acrid smoke were the Aztech and Von Cyprus himself, raising their arms. Behind them, guiding the robot, barely visible, was Kiernan Rage.

  They fired.

  Just as a blur of navy blue and gold smashed into the Revolution, taking him off his feet, slamming him into Spectral, driving them out just of the reach of the two deadly beams.

  Revolution couldn’t see what had just hit him, but whatever it had been, it had saved his life.

  “Oh, no you don’t, asshole!” a female voice shouted from inside the compound.

  On reflex, Revolution spun his helmet in the direction of the voice to see who it was—and was surprised to find he could do so, moving against the Doctor’s mental hold. The Doctor’s grip had loosened. Why?

  Instantly, he saw why the Doctor was distracted. There behind him, emerging from the smoldering remains of the hangar wall, aiming her hands, focused in concentration, was Scarlett Rage.

  The effects of her efforts were clear: the Aztech dropped its arms and powered down. Von Cyprus’s electrosleeves did the same.

  Revolution was stunned by her power. She had taken them both down so easily!

  Next, she aimed at him and Spectral and did the same, and both systems immediately rebooted. Effectively breaking the hold of her father—at least temporarily.

  As his system powered back up Revolution felt himself being turned over to face a man in a blue and gold impact suit—his identity completely covered by the armor. Through the eyeholes all Revolution could tell was that he was African-American.

  The man spoke. “Roderick Reynolds, sir, reporting for duty. In case you didn’t notice, I just saved your ass, so tell me how to get us the hell out of here and let’s go!”

  Spectral blinked away. One second later he was snatching up Scarlett and a second after that, zooming across the shattered compound toward the exit where Ward and the others had escaped.

  “Follow them!” Revolution told Reynolds. The man in the impact suit snatched him up with ease—a sign the suit had very powerful servos—and charged after them, using Revolution and the impact-armor as battering rams, smashing anything in their way.