Rampant Destruction (CERBERUS Book 10)

by Andy Peloquin

  “The signal’s coming from his right forearm,” Taia said after a few seconds. “I’ll need direct access to the chip or beacon to determine if I can remove it.”

  He gripped Agent Styver’s right wrist. “Do it.”

  Agent Styver didn’t even stir as Taia sank the metal filaments into his skin. The tiny threads wormed deeper until Taia said, “It’s a chip. Gaining access now. Hacking security protocols and running its code.” A moment of silence elapsed. “I can remove it,” she said finally, “but it’s going to be a delicate process. The chip is implanted between his brachial artery and a major nerve cluster in his forearm. Incorrectly removing it could trigger its built-in fail-safe, which will shred the blood vessel and send a surge of electricity up his nervous system into his brain.”

  Nolan wanted to give her the order to do it—he didn’t give a shit if Agent Styver lived or died—but he wouldn’t let his one bargaining chip go, not yet.

  “Any way you can deactivate it?” he asked. “Or encase it like you did with Sladek’s chip to block the outgoing signal?”

  “Working on it,” Taia replied. “It will take me another twelve-point-eight seconds.”

  “Use that time to arm up, Cerbie,” Bex said from the doorway.

  Nolan turned to see her holding his Balefire Mark 2.1, which she tossed to him.

  “We’re about to have company,” she said, “and I don’t think they’re coming for tea and crumpets.”

  Nolan caught the rifle with ease and rested it against Agent Styver’s unconscious body. He used his free hand to check the quick-ties holding Agent Styver bound and, satisfied they still held, returned his attention to the impending fight.

  “What kind of company, Bast?” he asked.

  “Three ten-man teams in vehicles coming from the west and north, with two more heading to cover the south and east sides,” Taia said. “And my satellites picked up a helo headed this way. The Black Crows are thirty seconds out.”

  “Shit!” Nolan growled. It appeared the Black Crows were at least competent enough to surround the building from all sides and take the roof.

  Agent Styver’s triumphant grin flashed through his thoughts. The fucker had been stalling for time, playing Nolan just as Nolan had played him. Knowing the Protection Bureau, it was more than likely the subdermal tracker chip had been designed for delayed activation after losing signal with Agent Styver’s smart clothing. And, if Nolan had to guess, the clothes were also connected to the Protection Bureau’s offices, and sent up an alert when Agent Styver’s signal was lost.

  Warbeast Team had expected the bastard to have a way to call for backup—hence the signal jam field and the shielded crate—but the Protection Bureau had taken even more precautions than anticipated.

  “Done!” Taia said.

  Nolan found his hand suddenly free, the metal smart cells retracting into his gauntlet. “Good!” He snatched up the Balefire and flicked two switches, setting the energy generator humming as he selected burst-fire mode. After another quick verification that Agent Styver’s bonds were secure—no such thing as overcaution when dealing with prisoners, especially Protection Bureau spooks—Nolan dashed out of the bedroom and into the main room, where the rest of Warbeast Team were gearing up for battle.

  Zahra, Darren, and the master sergeant were pulling on their combat suits, and Bex—fully armored and carrying her MK75—stood watch at the window.

  “Kali, sit-rep?” Nolan asked.

  “On the screen,” Master Sergeant Kane growled.

  Sure enough, the holo-screen showed live CCTV feeds from all sides of the building, as well as an aerial view from Taia’s spy satellite network. Thermal imaging showed fifty Black Crows in five light tactical vehicles converging on the ground floor, with another dozen roping down from the helicopter hovering over the roof.

  “Damn, that’s a bloody good response time,” Nolan growled. He suspected they’d been alerted the moment Agent Styver’s clothing went offline, and had simply been waiting until they picked up his tracker chip’s signal to deploy. “They’re fast, if nothing else.”

  His mind raced. Taia had found this location at a moment’s notice, which meant he hadn’t had time to integrate hidden exfil routes like he had with the rest of his safe houses. That left him with just the usual ways out.

  He spun toward Master Sergeant Kane. “His tracker chip’s disabled, so we can move him without worrying about being followed. Which path we taking out of here?” Years spent on Warbeast Team had ingrained in him the habit of letting the master sergeant call the play. Not even all his time as a solo operator could change that.

  “Exfil Route Zulu,” the master sergeant said without hesitation. “Team on the S-side looks slower and shakier than the others. We get through them, we can steal their LTV and bug the fuck out.”

  Nolan ground his teeth. “No way we’re getting into that office now!”

  That left just one ace up his sleeve: Agent Styver. If Warbeast Team could get clear of the building and drag their currently unconscious captive with them, they’d have at least some leverage to get the Protection Bureau bigwigs to the negotiation table.

  “They’re gearing up to breach,” Bex called from the window. “I give them thirty seconds before—scrap that, they’re making entry now.”

  “Motherfuckers!” Zahra growled. She crammed the helmet onto her head and snatched up her Machnikov X-AR. “Bast, activate Kali’s perimeter defenses. Pattern Kilo-Tango-Romeo.”

  “Copy that,” Taia said. “EMP and sonic charges activated.”

  Nolan’s eyebrows rose. He’d seen Bex working on the purpose-built devices, but had thought they’d be used for whatever offensive they launched against the Protection Bureau. Evidently they made a good back-up plan in case their safe house was breached.

  “Ready!” Darren rumbled as he donned his helmet. His voice echoed loud over team-wide comms. “Call the play, Wyvern.”

  Master Sergeant Kane rattled off the plan without hesitation. “Phoenix, point. Kali, on her six. Troll, grab our friend. Cerberus, frag everything.”

  Warbeast Team—now including Bex—moved with the well-oiled precision that had made them so effective on countless battlefields. Zahra headed straight toward the exit, activating three of her little Djinn drones to send them zipping out into the hallway the moment Bex pulled the door open. Darren charged toward the bedroom to snatch up their prisoner.

  Nolan headed straight toward the telephoto lens and laser microphones, collecting them in his arms and dropping them into the thermoplastic crate in which they’d been transported. The tools Zahra had used to repair the Djinn drones went into the crate as well, along with every wrapper, empty MRE, and shred of garbage that could mark their presence there. Kicking the lid shut, Nolan popped a white phosphorus grenade and slammed it onto the crate. Instantly, a loud hissing, white smoke, and the stink of melting thermoplastic filled the safe house.

  The table had been emptied of munitions, weapons, and grenades, all except for three Gatecrashers, a standard frag, and two flashbangs that had been left specifically for Nolan. He grabbed them and the two energy clips for his Balefire as he fell in behind Darren and Master Sergeant Kane, bringing up the rear of their little five-man team.

  “Activate thermals,” Master Sergeant Kane shouted over comms. “And Cerberus, watch your lines of fire!”

  “Copy that,” Nolan called back. As rear guard, it was his job to watch the hallways behind them, but if they engaged enemies in front, he’d end up shooting past his teammates and Agent Styver, who was currently draped over Darren’s shoulder. He’d only fire forward if shit truly hit the fan.

  Taia called up his teammates’ positions on his HUD, allowing him to match their pace as he retreated down the hallway in their wake. His penetrative thermal imaging pierced the walls of the nearby apartment and gave a clear view of the brilliant heat rising from the white phosphorus grenade slagging all of their surveillance equipment. When the Black Crows reached the ap
artment, the only trace of Warbeast Team would be a pile of ash and two folded-up military cots.

  “Contact front in five!” Zahra said over team-wide comms. “Kali, bang ‘em!”

  “With pleasure!” Bex answered, laughing.

  Nolan faintly heard the clatter of something heavy and metallic bouncing down the carpeted staircase, then a few seconds later, the BOOM of a detonating flashbang. The staccato crackle of mechanical gunfire echoed as Bex and Zahra engaged the Black Crows.

  Nolan scanned the empty hallway behind Warbeast Team. Five heat signatures showed in the apartments they passed, but no sign of enemies on the floor yet. Instinct screamed at him to turn and face the enemy, to join in the fight, but years of training and operating with Warbeast Team kept him locked on his target. Bex and Zahra could more than handle themselves.

  Another BOOM echoed in the staircase, followed by the brief chatter of gunfire until yet another blast rang out. Then everything fell deathly silent.

  “Hostiles down,” Bex called over comms. “Heading down S-side stairs.”

  “Good work,” Master Sergeant Kane growled. “Let’s get down and out before the other teams catch up.”

  Nolan continued his steady retreat, scanning the hallway and the intersection fifty meters ahead. That, he knew, was the spot where the Black Crows coming from the other three directions would appear. The moment they did—

  Shit!

  The first armed gunman appeared around a corner, rifle raised and gaze locked on the door to the apartment where Agent Styver’s signal had last been detected. The man looked far worse for the wear—he’d removed his helmet and his ears were bleeding, courtesy of Bex’s defensive countermeasures. The five contractors who followed in his wake appeared equally battered. Nolan didn’t know which of the ten-man teams it was, but four down was a damned good start.

  He resisted the urge to close his finger around his Balefire’s trigger—the Black Crows hadn’t spotted him yet, and he had no desire to draw their attention. Instead, he kept his crosshairs firmly centered on the leader and continued his steady retreat toward the staircase.

  “Cerberus, step!” Master Sergeant Kane called out. “Covering.”

  Nolan spun to face the staircase, finding himself just half a meter from the first step down. Master Sergeant Kane knelt with his rifle trained on the hostiles in the hallway. Nolan raced four steps down, spun, and called, “Covering!” He could barely see over the uppermost step, which meant the Black Crows would only see the top of his helmet and the barrel of his rifle. Master Sergeant Kane raced down the stairs in pursuit of Darren, Bex, and Zahra.

  “Move it!” the master sergeant called.

  Nolan wasted no time. He slid backward down the stairs until he was no longer visible to the Black Crows storming the apartment, then turned and descended the rest of the way at a run. He leaped over the bodies of the ten Black Crows Bex and Zahra had taken down, noting the blackened patch of carpeting and the scorch marks on the wall. There was blood, too, and bullet holes riddling the contractors’ bodies. All of those details flashed through his mind without registering. He was firmly in battle mode, and could spare neither pity nor thought for the enemies standing in his way. They had come to battle, and like every other foe that had faced Warbeast Team, they wouldn’t get out of this alive.

  “Shit sticks!” Taia cursed. “Reinforcements have just arrived. Two more vehicles pulled up on the south side, and there are twenty more Black Crows blocking the south-side exit.”

  At the same moment, Zahra transmitted over team-wide comms. “Contact front, second floor!” Renewed gunfire echoed from around the corner.

  “Where the taint-tickling fuck did these pricks come from?” Bex growled.

  “One of the bastards probably got off a—“ Zahra grunted. “Shit, that hurt!”

  Nolan raced around the corner in time to see Zahra staggering backward.

  Bex managed to somehow catch Zahra one-handed and return fire at the enemies Nolan couldn’t see in the second-floor hallway. “Eat this, you shitstains!” she roared.

  Master Sergeant Kane barreled past Darren and dropped to one knee, adding his fire to Bex’s. Bullets and blaster bolts hissed past their heads, ricocheted off their combat suits, and chewed up the walls and ceiling.

  The Black Crows’ blaster guns were low-caliber assault rifles that couldn’t quite punch through the Silverguard-grade combat suits, but enough ammunition could eventually overwhelm even the best armor.

  To Nolan’s relief, Zahra quickly regained her balance and joined in returning fire. He spun back toward the ascending staircase—just in time to see a grenade bouncing down the steps toward him.

  Shit!

  Nolan stooped, caught the grenade mid-air, and wound up to hurl it back at the enemy. Even as his arm whipped forward, he spotted the Black Crows stacked up outside the stairwell, ready to advance the moment the grenade took Nolan down.

  Suck on this, you sh—

  A second after the grenade left Nolan’s hands, an explosion blossomed in front of his face and the world went white.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dazzling lights flashed blinding bright. Screams, shouts, and the raucous, throaty roar of heavy machine gun fire washed over him.

  He tried to stand, tried to claw his way to his feet, but something held him fast. Blood, he realized. The blood slithering through the muddy ravine had dried beneath him and hardened.

  “I said move out!” Master Sergeant Kane roared over team comms. “Mech division’s heading our way, and we’ve gotta bail before they stomp our asses into the mud.”

  “Copy that.” Erasmus Gull rose from where he’d been lying in the mud to Nolan’s left. Gritty crimson muck clung to his chestplate and legs, dripping off him like the flesh melting off the bodies of the Ironhands caught in that Scorpion-class mech’s flarebeam.

  In all his years on Warbeast Team, Nolan had never seen anything like it.

  The ground gave a soft sucking sound, then loosed its grip on him with a wet squelch. He stood, his muscles sluggish from nearly two days spent prone. Yet he had no time to be slow, not with the Terran League mechs thundering toward them.

  He cast one last glance down at the battlefield at the base of the hill. The Ironhands trading fire with the dug-in Jackboots below would die horribly the moment those mechs arrived.

  “Gotta roll.” Darren rose from where he’d been lying on Nolan’s right side and gripped Nolan’s arm, pulling him hard. “Phoenix found a fallback position to set up. Contact in five mikes, unless we can get our asses out of sight and dug in.”

  Nolan’s legs finally cooperated, and he stumbled after the dim shapes of his comrades. One step after another, and all he could think of was the bodies that would be left behind if Warbeast Team didn’t take out those mechs.

  Gotta keep going! Gotta keep fighting!

  His ears rang so loud the sound set his skull aching. Dazzling spots of light flashed in front of his eyes, blurring his vision. Throbbing pain raced down the left side of his body, radiated through his hand, and set his face pounding.

  “Nolan!” Taia’s voice screamed in his ears. “Get up, Nolan!”

  He drew in a ragged breath, his lungs burning. Even that movement sent a twinge through his ribs. Another breath, then he blinked and tried to focus.

  His mind reeled from the impact. Impact? No, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t taken a bullet or blow to the helmet. He tried to think, to form thoughts through the damned ringing in his ears and the sparks dancing in his eyes.

  Then he remembered. The grenade! He clutched his left hand instinctively, found his fingers moved. A flashbang, then. A frag or Gatecrasher would have taken off his hand. Probably peeled away his armor like a tin can, too. He’d gotten lucky. Taia had been fast, too. She’d shut off his helmet’s optical and auditory sensors just in time. The deafening bang and blinding flash that should have incapacitated him had only slammed him back into the wall.

  Through the whirling
sparks, he caught sight of movement at the top of the staircase. Instinctively, he raised the Balefire—somehow still gripped in his right hand—and aimed at the dark shape. A triplet of white-hot bolts hissed up the stairs and tore through something. Someone. A scream, at least he thought it was, sounding loud even through the roaring of his pulse in his ears. Another blur of motion, another pull of the trigger, and another hostile went down.

  The world swam suddenly back into focus. The crackle of gunfire above and below him. Bullets and blaster bolts hissing through the stairwell. The shouts of the Black Crows, and his team’s voices over comms.

  “…on our six!” came Master Sergeant Kane’s growling voice. “Cerberus got rocked, but he’s still kicking.”

  “Keep them off us a few seconds more!” Bex roared. “Fuckers up front need a proper spanking!”

  “Go,” Darren shouted. “I’ve got this. Help Cerberus.”

  “I’m fine!” Nolan tried to shout, but it came out in a ragged gasp. “Just…took a hit.”

  He struggled to rise. The grenade had knocked him backward into the wall and rung his bell. Now he pushed up to his feet, ignoring the pain in his left hand. With his right, he kept the Balefire trained on the stairwell above, his eyes searching for any sign of—

  Shit! He ducked as a barrage of bullets lanced the air above him. The Black Crows were firing mostly blind from behind cover, but that made them no less dangerous.

  Master Sergeant Kane appeared beside Nolan. “When in doubt…” He tossed the fragmentation grenade up the stairs, then dragged Nolan into a low crouch. The blast echoed across the floor above Nolan, accompanied by the whistling of flying shrapnel ripping through walls, floors, ceiling, and armored contractors. No screams drifted down toward him.

  “Mother…fuckers!” Bex grunted. “Suck on this, you shitstains!”

  Her light machine gun’s clattering full-auto fire resonated from around the bend in the U-shaped staircase, accompanied by the lighter crackle of Zahra’s Machnikov X-AR. Another smaller gun barked in tandem with them—Darren’s sidearm, a heavy-duty Carnivore DX that seemed tiny in his huge hands—and drowned out the staccato answer of the Black Crows’ guns.