Warriors at the Gates- Trojan Wars

by Rick Royster

  His legs were weary like Jello and wouldn't support standing, so fleeing was out of the question. Each breath felt like he was driving a sword through his ribs.

  "Tressa," Rabbit whispered.

  Where was she? He couldn't seem to remember.

  Rabbit didn't see her as he glanced around for his lover, but he did see Nero, the Global Union enforcer who stalked him like a lion does a wounded gazelle.

  Rabbit refocused; he wouldn't die here, and he had a surprise in store for this monster.

  The pain and blood loss dulled his senses and blurred his vision, shrunk his sight down to just Nero, the grim reaper prepared to carry him off into the afterlife. He reached for his laser rifle; it had proven to be as useful as a broomstick against an armored tank.

  It seemed poetic, the duality – man versus machine. A cybernetically enhanced body developed in a laboratory pitted against one honed by years of intense training and conditioning. Artificial intelligence against a natural mind.

  The monster stepped forward and Rabbit stood, the agony of doing so shooting pain from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. He could barely breathe; the intense pain had him on the verge of passing out.

  The look in Nero's cold eyes promised more violence, more pain.

  Rabbit's chest was warm, almost hot, and it felt again as though a boa constrictor was squeezing him to death. He realized it was blood filling his lungs. He needed to do something quickly.

  He saw the shadows closing in just beyond Nero. He knew the darkness was here, that it was here to take him.

  He mustered the strength to take a fighting stance; he'd almost passed out from the pain, but he held steady, hung on. He would lure him in, scissor-kick his legs from under him and stab him in the back of the head. He did have enough strength left for that.

  He heard Nero's war cry as he charged, and it sounded like crashing waves, reminded him of something primal, unstoppable.

  Rabbit didn't blink in the face of the Iteration’s anger, neither did he execute the move he'd rehearsed in his mind. His body just wasn't into taking any more orders; he simply raised an arm to try and parry the blow. He was hit with the force of a moving train. There was no more pain, just a sense of numbness and the lights turning dim around him. Wherever Tressa was, he prayed she was safe, and the fact she wasn't here gave him hope that she had escaped his fate and that made him smile.

  As his consciousness began to fade, he was faintly aware Nero was straddled atop of him. He saw fire in the man’s eyes as he drew his fist back.

  His debt was now paid. No reason to be afraid anymore.

  He closed his eyes, then welcomed the darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I love the name of honor more than I fear death

  ― Julius Caesar

  Goliath was laughing out loud, and Captain Tressa Ladovitch, leader of the Coalition’s rugged strike force, knew she was going to die.

  She would go down guns blazing.

  The pounding, ominous sound of approaching footsteps of the Region Twelve security officers grew louder. They were climbing the stairs of this death maze of a building, no doubt led by Sateria, who had now probably figured out that she hid the Cube elsewhere - or maybe one of those inhuman clones. Whoever was leading the charge didn't seem to matter much. Either way, all hope for escape was gone. Tressa and her now only surviving soldier were tired, low on ammunition, sleep-deprived and heavily fatigued. She reflected on how far they’d come, and it was a shame they wouldn't complete their mission but this was their Thermopylae.

  "We go out together," Tressa said. "Everything we got on that catwalk, once they get inside and into the garage, they'll rip us apart."

  "Mac-rifle is down to its last, Thelma and Louise empty, and I'm down to two sidearms after that. You?"

  "Grenades, flash bombs, smoke bombs, and a sidearm."

  Goliath laughed. "Would pissing on them be better?"

  "We'll take a few with us, I have a nano-bomb for us, when they get close."

  Goliath smiled and winked at her. "I'd have it no other way."

  He stepped closer to her and in that moment, she felt a bit of comfort. If captured, they'd be turned over to the Global Union. They had no desire to be interrogated, prodded and tortured before being killed, and at least this way, they'd go on their own terms and take a few of them with them.

  "They're close," Goliath said while rechecking his weapons.

  Tressa's smart monitor on her wrist gave her the same information. She knew they were close. They'd send in the Region Twelve security officers first, basically fodder and target practice, the real threat to come after.

  The idea of dying without her daughter knowing she was coming to rescue her still didn't sit right with Tressa; she deserved better, her team deserved better.

  Make them pay one last time.

  "Been an honor, tits," Goliath said, squeezing her hand and handing her the Cube.

  "One last zinger for the road, huh, Lieutenant?" she said but squeezed his hand back warmly in turn.

  "Game time." Goliath’s eyes grew wide.

  The first soldier darted through the doorway and headed across the bridge, and Goliath put a laser blast through his forehead that burst through the back of his skull, spraying pink matter across the floor and side glass.

  Three more followed. Tressa fired three shots from her handgun, and all three - barely out of the narrow corridor and off the bridge - fell back down the stairs. One, not dead, sprang to his feet and was immediately met by a blast from Goliath's rifle.

  "Nice shot." Tressa glanced back at Goliath and tossed a grenade down the corridor. "Heads up."

  He fired, hitting it just before it landed on several security soldiers in the hallway. The explosion ripped across the entrance of the bridge, the detonation careening in a massive fireball, incinerating all in its path.

  Too bad the catwalk was bomb-proof; if they could blow it in half, they could yet survive.

  The air filled with a haze of smoke and the smell of scorched flesh. The grenade had set a blue hot fire around the entrance, leading the security officers to hold back and fire wildly through the clouds of smoke into the main room.

  "They'll come harder the next round," Goliath said.

  "I want them to. No reason to prolong this dance."

  The security officers were not allowed to even think about retreating. Nero would kill them on the spot for even hesitating. If one of them got out of line or shied from combat, they'd be guaranteeing their deaths.

  Goliath expected the blast to give the security officers pause, but there were five more standing at the other end of the catwalk, huddled together, ready to make another charge.

  "They don't give up, do they?" Tressa said with a grin.

  Goliath responded with a hearty laugh, then his eyes narrowed, and realization creased his brow. "A Centurion, they are shielding him."

  Tressa rechecked her ammo. "Finally, let’s get this over with." She pulled out her last nano-bomb.

  Goliath cracked his neck, agreeing.

  "We put everything we have on that door, and when the monster gets close, we send all of us to high hell," Tressa said.

  Goliath reached out a large hand that engulfed hers, and it was the one that held the grenade. He glanced down the catwalk, saw the dark smoke rise out of the blown-out windows that encased it. The security officers inched forward.

  He took the small bomb out of her hand and eyed it, then he gave her the Cube. "When they tell my story, tell them how I killed a hundred security officers and destroyed a Centurion with my bare hands."

  Tressa looked over at him, a bit confused.

  "Take care of your daughter, sis, and live bloody well. Now it's time for my glory."

  Goliath shoved Tressa hard and out of the way, then charged across the garage toward the catwalk.

  He could hear Tressa’s curses and shouts behind him.

  Nero emerged from the crowd of guards, shoving them o
ut of his way, tossing a few of them off the catwalk and over the railing, sending them screaming to their deaths. He quickly picked up speed into a full sprint, heading on a fast track for a massive collision, like two speeding semis rushing toward each other on a one-lane highway.

  As they collided, Goliath felt as though he'd crashed into a mountainside. Nero stoned him cold and stopped all momentum, lifted him in the air with one hand and slammed him on his back. The air went completely out of him, and he couldn't breathe. It was the type of bone-rattling, teeth-jarring trauma that you'd expect in falling from tower to pavement.

  Nero then snatched him up in the air like he was a stuffed teddy bear and pinned him against the side stanchion. Goliath grabbed hold of the blown-out panel to keep from falling.

  Nero pulled out his blade - two feet of death - and his cold eyes, dead as stones, bored into Goliath's soul.

  Goliath had never before felt such strength and he punched Nero twice in the face, but like hitting a cold brick wall, the Centurion barely flinched.

  Nero reverse-gripped the blade and shoved it through Goliath's collarbone.

  "Say goodbye, Coalition scum. His will be done."

  Goliath looked down below at the thousand-foot drop, his body half hanging out the completely shattered glass of the catwalk.

  Nero shoved him closer to the edge.

  "Why goodbye? We’re just getting to know each other, bloody ol’ chap. And besides, you're coming with me," Goliath said.

  Goliath used all of his strength and moved Nero's hand aside, then jammed the nano-bomb into the Centurion’s armor near his shoulder. He then bear-hugged him and launched both him and Nero backwards off of the catwalk, free-falling below.

  Mere seconds later, a fireball erupted midair.

  Tressa was paralyzed by the shock of what just happened, then by fear. It hit her like a ton of bricks; she was all alone and a lot of highly skilled and talented killers wanted her dead or alive. She had no way out, but she still had to try.

  "Goliath," Tressa mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand.

  She ambled like a zombie across the catwalk, too numb to look down and see the bodies of the soldiers Nero tossed and what was left of his and Goliath's. She had no nano-bombs left and barely any ammo, and when she opened the door, she knew there'd be several security officers awaiting her in the stairwell. She did have a flash bomb; maybe she could distract them and make it to the roof? Even if she did, then what?

  An echo of thunder brought her back to reality, the cold rain hitting her because of the blown-out glass in the catwalk. She drew her gun, couldn't understand why the security officers hadn't stormed the bridge yet? Maybe they needed Nero to give the order?

  But she had to be strong. For her daughter. For her team. She owed them to go out bravely and trying to complete their mission at all cost.

  The door opened in front of her and she took aim. Down at the other end of the windowless catwalk stood Cayden. A moment ago, she thought things couldn't get any worse. But this, Cayden blocking her only escape route, was definitely worse.

  She watched him as a deer would observe a resting Panther.

  Cayden stood between her and freedom. She knew Sateria and her henchmen had to be closing in also - she'd have to go through Cayden or negotiate with the bounty hunter. Neither seemed to be a viable option. Maybe she'd just jump, maybe a sky-car or the asphalt below would cushion her fall.

  Tressa eyed Cayden's katana, and she wanted no part of it. "If I give you the Cube, promise me you'll help me."

  It was a desperate plea, but she could remember only a few times in her life she'd been more desperate. Actually, she'd never been more desperate.

  "How could you? All of those agents? They trusted you, they were your friends," Cayden said.

  "Let's not talk about trust."

  Cayden took a step closer to her.

  She blinked a few times. "What was I supposed to do? She's my daughter, Cayden. The soldiers..." Tressa shook her head. "We know the risk; death can come for us at any time. It's what we all signed up for. Not my daughter, she's innocent. It’s my fault she's involved in this." Tressa looked down, not wanting to see his judgmental glare. "I can't allow that. I'm sorry, I did what I had to do."

  "Daughter?" Cayden. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you come to me?"

  "You are a man of your word and the only person I can trust. Give me your word you'll help my daughter and I'll give you the Cube and turn myself in to you right now."

  With the rain beating down his face, and both of them running out of time, Cayden nodded yes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  All strange and terrible events are welcomed, but comforts we despise.

  ― Cleopatra

  Like most cities, Region Twelve transit system was made up of hyper loop trains on the upper levels above and the super trains below. The city’s streets, which thirty years prior consisted of cars and buses, were now filled with mag lines for rail cars and hyperloop stations.

  Cayden's katana did what a nano-bomb and laser rifles couldn't - cut a large hole in the backside of the garage and allowed them to slip down into the side alleyway.

  When they reached ground level, the noise from the commotion intensified, and getting out of Region Twelve would take a miracle.

  Cayden and Tressa stepped out of the shadows, and down at the end of the alleyway, Rhys had his rifle out.

  No one had yet to notice him in full military gear; the citizens may have pretended not to and either hurried by or completely turned around.

  Cayden jogged to the end of the alley, and Tressa was behind him as they approached Rhys. "I thought I told you to stay within eyeshot of the train depot?" Cayden said.

  "What's this?" Rhys’ eyes were centered on Tressa, his face a contortion of contempt.

  "No time for this now, Lieutenant. We have the Cube, it's all that matters," Cayden said.

  "Not to me." Rhys eyed Tressa.

  Cayden saw Rhys’ hand go to the trigger of his rifle and raised it toward Tressa. Cayden grabbed it and re-directed it back down as it fired into the street. "Stand down, soldier." Cayden said in a harsh whisper.

  There would be time for hostilities later, but now they needed to get out of dodge. He could sense the looming danger - Sateria, the Centurions, Region Twelve security forces. It was so intense that he couldn't be sure from what direction.

  "Where is Matrix? Where is the Cobra?" Cayden asked.

  Rhys’ eyes were still planted on Tressa. "I had friends who were like brothers on the Intrepid."

  "Soldiers die. It's what we do. Me saying sorry won't change that." Tressa’s green eyes were filled with tears and defiance.

  Rhys spat at her feet. "Scum."

  "Where is the Cobra?" Cayden asked, scanning the parking area above them.

  Rhys pressed a few buttons and the holo-portation appeared on his wrist. The Cobra was settled in a few blocks away.

  "Military-grade gunships are en route, and I told Matrix to meet us at this pickup spot five miles due west. There is a mag train incoming in six minutes," Rhys said. "It'll get us to the Cobra. Matrix assures me that it will outrun anything that Region Twelve's security forces might have."

  Cayden looked over at the burning building less than a hundred meters away; he peeked out from the alley and saw more rescue workers of all types scattering onto the scene. "We might not make it that far. Get ready for city combat. Let's try and draw their fire away from the mag lines. Only when the train is in view do we run to board."

  Once on board, they could get lost in a sea of passengers. Region Twelve was one of the few places the Global Union didn't have complete control, so it wasn't likely they could have the entire transit system shut down in the next ten minutes.

  Sateria was giddy at her luck. She just so happened to catch a partial glimpse of Tressa while she was covering her head with her hoodie. She was one in a thousand people now walking the streets. She walked solo, but now Tressa was spotte
d, a man, several scores behind her with a stiff walk because of a hidden rifle no doubt, couldn't be missed.

  Sateria considered her next move, trying to take them on the streets with thousands of bystanders wouldn't work. It wasn't her style to kill innocent civilians just to do so. And she also didn't want to invite local police or security droids into the firefight.

  She stood up from a crouch position atop a spire and in a series of elegant jumps, descended the edifice to get a better look for the final hunt in her game.

  Still no sign of him. Where is he? I can't strike without him.

  Leaping into the shadow of a column, Sateria attentively scanned the nearby buildings and rooftops. Given the Desani's heightened sense and tracking skills, Cayden could hide in plain sight, evading most of the skilled trackers in the world. But Sateria was the best; she needed to be able to ferret him out, not only prove her worth to Saigo, but to herself. If she couldn't successfully hunt a team of elite rangers and a Desani, it would surely be her penultimate act before accepting a sentence to be executed by the Union.

  She stood up from a crouch position on the rooftop next to the building in flames and was beginning her descent when she spotted another figure, hooded, no umbrella, following Tressa through halo-noculars off in the distance. It was the blonde witch she'd seen with Cayden. She was certain he wasn't far behind.

  Hopefully, the Centurions would serve at least a distraction to Cayden while she captured the primary prize.

  "Bring in the heavies," she commanded through an earpiece. "I want all of them, Clay."

  She could then blast Tressa with a neural ray, put her in a gel wrap and deposit her in the nearest GU prison, then she could get on with her life.

  Sateria tightened her jaw and tensed her legs before flitting between buildings and stalking seen and unseen targets.

  A squad of eight police shuttles, the hover tank models, zoomed overhead, the hum of their engines momentarily muting the chatter about on the street. The gold glow brimming from their hydraulic system gave them the illusion of floating squares as they disappeared into the night’s air.