Masks of Ash

by Adrian J. Smith

  “Watch out!” Lisa shouted as she squeezed the trigger. Sofia pivoted and drew her own gun.

  With the practiced motion of highly trained professionals, they tracked the man in gray, emptying their magazines as he sprinted from the room. They quickly cleared the next room, and the next. Whoever the attacker had been, he had left the office island and escaped into the factory.

  Lisa turned to Sofia. “I thought I heard him say he was Milo.”

  “Milo? Why didn’t he just come to the door?” Sofia said.

  “I don’t know. I struggle to trust him.”

  “He didn’t fire his weapon, though,” Sofia said.

  “True.”

  “The children!” Sofia said, and lunged for the door.

  Lisa held her back and clicked her radio. “Jacqui, do you copy?”

  “Loud and clear. Were those gunshots?”

  “Yes. Lock the door and drag something heavy across it. We have an intruder.”

  “Copy that.”

  Lisa admired Jacqui. As soon as she had seen the kids, she had volunteered to take them under her wing. Said something about growing up in a large family. LK3 had too much going on, so Lisa was pleased not to have to care for the children too.

  Sofia and Lisa jogged back into the control room.

  “Sofia, contact Ryan and hurry them up,” Lisa ordered. “If this intruder knows we’re here, OPIS knows. Avondale, purge the computers. When The Nameless are back with the doctor, we’re leaving. I’m going to see if it’s Milo.”

  Avondale acknowledged that he understood and began typing on his keyboard.

  “Can I do anything?” Allie asked.

  “Get ready to pick up the teams,” Lisa said from the doorway.

  ***

  Sofia made sure she had the right frequency and pressed the talk button. “Ryan. Do you copy?”

  White noise filled the headphones. Sofia repeated the transmission a few times, with the same result. Ryan had said they were heading underground. She tried one last time.

  “Is this bloody thing working, hello?” It was Ebony, breathing heavily. Sofia detected the sounds of her running with Siphon shrieks and gun fire in the background.

  “Ebony, are you okay? Where are the others?”

  “I’m fine. I’m drawing away some of the Siphons. Everyone else went underground into the storm water system. Trying to avoid the Black Skulls.”

  “How far away are you?”

  “I’m nearly at the bridge.”

  “I’ll send Allie. We’ve been attacked, though, so watch yourself.”

  “Who attacked? Those Black Skulls?”

  “Just one person. A man…possibly Milo.” Sofia blinked, processing. “Ebony, he was fast like you.”

  “What do you mean, fast like me?”

  “Exactly that. His movements were a blur. I could barely follow what he was doing. I unloaded an entire magazine at him. Maybe hit him twice, and I’m a good shot.”

  “Shit.”

  “Lisa wants us gone as soon as Lahm’s safe.”

  “I’m coming to you. If he’s fast like me and has the same skills, he’s an assassin. That was my purpose. Yamada trained me to take down his enemies.”

  “Find the other teams first,” Sofia said.

  “I swore to protect Keiko and the other children. Who knows what this guy’s there for.” Ebony clicked off and the radio went dead.

  Sofia groaned and began packing. She had to remind herself that Ebony wasn’t an official LK3 agent. She didn’t have the same discipline and code of honor that The Nameless had.

  ***

  Lisa thought she was being stealthy, but Milo could detect her movement as she dashed from one machine to the other. She was quiet, he would give her that, but with his nanite-enhanced senses he easily heard her. He paused and checked his surrounding more thoroughly. First, he waited until his eyes had adjusted to the semi-darkness. Then he focused his breathing into a steady rhythm. Straining his ears, he picked up on the various sounds.

  A female moved around inside the raised office block, her voice a murmur. A crackle of noise from a radio. He jogged until he was a few meters from the director, who was still moving slowly, adjusting her direction so that she was coming up behind him. She was good. Stealthy, even.

  His mind jolted back to her dossier. Retired recon marine and, for the last twenty-five years, involved with LK3. Director for the last ten.

  Milo slid behind a metal-pressing machine and crouched. A child’s wail echoed off the concrete walls. He frowned. Had he heard correctly? A child? He considered heading toward it, then sensed the air above him move. He sprang up and twisted so that he launched backward, eyes staring at the ceiling. Bullets whizzed past his head, and one thumped into his shoulder. To his amazement, Lisa had snuck up on him. She was good. He smiled to himself and rolled away, putting a rusted cutting machine between himself and Lisa. She was still firing, even though she had no way of hitting him.

  “Who are you?” Lisa said, her voice calm. The question had the tone of someone used to authority.

  Milo smirked. “Director, it’s Milo.”

  “Why did you attack us?”

  “I didn’t. You fired on me.”

  “True. Why didn’t you just radio?”

  “I’ve been ordered to eliminate you. But I’m not going to do that. Instead, I have a proposal. Something to benefit both of us.” Milo stood, rubbing his shoulder where the bullet had thumped into it seconds before. “Can we talk?”

  Lisa stepped out from behind another rusting machine, her gun aimed directly at Milo’s head. He kept his hands up, his arms away from his sides.

  “On your knees,” Lisa said.

  Milo complied.

  Twenty-Two

  Ryan sprinted as fast as the knee-deep water would allow. The giant rats screeched, their feet scratching the walls, as they pursued The Nameless. Any that got too close were greeted with a barrage of gunfire. Some scurried up the sides of the tunnel and ran upside down along its roof. Their normally black eyes now had a reddish hue.

  “On the left!” Booth warned, his Glock spitting out bullets, sending pieces of mutated rat flying. Chunks hit the wall and fell into the churning muddy water.

  Ryan heeded his warning and took out yet another rodent. “Keep moving,” he said, glancing at his compass. At least they were heading in the right direction despite the chaotic chase. His gut told him the river shouldn’t be too far away. The problem was that the system was a maze of tunnels. You would think it would be constructed in a grid pattern but, like all major cities around the world, Portland faced the problem of decades of infrastructure piled one atop the other. The builders of the stormwater system had had to navigate around gas, phone and electrical services, resulting in a twisting confusion of tunnels.

  “Incoming!” Cal shouted. More of the large rodents screeched up the walls, eager to feast on their flesh.

  “Ugh,” Zanzi said as she shot the head off a rat, spraying its brains over the rolling mass that followed.

  On they ran, down another tunnel, wading past mounds of trash the size of a small car, past carcasses of dead animals. Ryan could see brighter light ahead and urged everyone on faster. He had an idea, but it required them to be out of the filthy water. As they passed another junction, bullets thumped into the concrete, sending tiny fragments stinging into Ryan’s face. He spun and, purely on reflex, began shooting. Just their luck. Black Skulls had entered the storm drain from the other direction and were moving toward them.

  Had they seen the rats?

  “In there,” Ryan said, gesturing at yet another side tunnel.

  The sounds of the Black Skulls wading through the water, on the one hand, and the chatter of the rats on the other, echoed off the smooth concrete walls. It wasn’t long before curses and gasps rang out as the commandos and the rats met head on.

  Guess not.

  Ryan kept running, ignoring the panicked shooting behind them. The brighter light ahead
revealed a giant junction. Tunnels ran from it in every direction, while a large concrete column towered in the center. He pivoted and fell backward so that he was wedged up against it.

  Cal picked up on what he was doing and followed suit. “Everyone,” she said, and demonstrated what to do.

  “Keep out of the water,” Ryan said.

  He looked back into the tunnel they’d fled down. Hundreds of rats barreled toward them like a rodent flood. He had a brief image of the wall of water that had swept Cal out of his life. That was what it looked like but instead of a torrent of mud, rocks and water, this time it was mutated rats. Hairless, large and bloodthirsty. How they had become infected by nanites confused him. OPIS had targeted humans, dogs and cats, but had left everything else.

  Twenty meters…

  Zanzi and Lahm were struggling to wedge themselves against the concrete pillar.

  Fifteen meters…

  Booth leapt up and fired at the mass of rats, then lifted Lahm’s legs and demonstrated how to use her back to keep from falling. Reid held Zanzi’s hand. Together they positioned themselves, then nodded at Ryan.

  Ten meters…

  Ryan grabbed the taser baton from his satchel. On the flight home he had inspected it more closely. It had three power settings. He selected the highest. The Black Skulls’ muzzle flashes were easy to spot as they fought a life and death battle against the tide of rodents. Shouts and screams reverberated through the storm system. Ryan paused. Normally he wouldn’t leave anyone to such a horrible fate, but then the visions of all he had witnessed over the last two weeks flicked through his mind. The Black Skulls were the armed division of OPIS and deserved everything they got.

  Five meters…

  He crouched and jammed the taser into the water. In an instant, the water around the small prongs boiled. He was amazed at just how fast electricity traveled, especially through an excellent conductor like water. A split-second later, the squeaking chatter of the rats had ceased. Some went rigid, curled into balls and sank beneath the water. Others screamed as their bodies smoked. Those not touching the water charged on. Ryan swung up his MP5, flicking the selector to full auto in the same motion. Given that his feet were wedged in an awkward position, the action was surprisingly difficult. He squeezed the trigger and took out the nearest group, sending hunks of flesh, blood and bone spraying. Reid, Cal and Booth added to the barrage. The surviving rats were decimated in seconds.

  Silence returned. Cordite, and the iron stench of blood, hung in the air. Smoking remains were piled along the waterline. A few of the rodent bodies began to wash downstream and into the catchment drain.

  No one spoke. Ryan didn’t blame anyone. It was a lot to process. OPIS, the Black Skulls attacking, your mind could accept that. The Siphons too. But mutated rats that had grown to cat size? Now that was tough.

  Ryan dropped back into the water, scanning the vicinity for any threats. Nothing moved. Even the Black Skulls deeper inside the system were quiet.

  “Everyone okay?” he said.

  “Never a dull moment with you, Connors,” Booth said.

  “If you want dull moments, you could always watch the Timberwolves or Vikings.”

  Booth groaned. “That’s a cheap shot.”

  “Always sports with you two,” Cal said. “Let’s move.”

  Ryan took point again and led them up the nearest maintenance shaft. It was still dark outside, with a light drizzle falling, when the group finally exited the storm water system. Ryan took a few moments to check their location: they were to the west of, and five kilometers away from, the safe house. The helicopters were still present, flying low to avoid the rain clouds, their searchlights stabbing through the dark like fingers of ice. He decided to wait till the choppers had gone before moving farther east. They’d then flick and move, following the streets.

  Without orders, Reid jogged to the nearest corner and took a knee. Ryan liked that he had read the situation and taken up a covering position. Cal and Zanzi shielded Lahm.

  Ryan activated his comms. “Control, do you copy?”

  Within seconds, Sofia answered. “Ryan. Good. Everyone okay?”

  “Affirmative. Proceeding on foot. Any vehicle will attract too much attention. Did Jolene make it back?”

  “Copy that. Yes, she’s here and some guy called Milo showed up. From OPIS. He and the director seem to know each other. He warned us the order has been given to take her out. Lisa’s talking to him now. She wants to proceed to Outpost Amon Hen.”

  Ryan frowned and found Cal’s eyes. “Say again. An OPIS operative?”

  “Correct.”

  Cal clutched his hand. “I know him. Ex-Stasi.”

  Ryan gestured to Zanzi. “You know this Milo?”

  “Yeah. That’s who helped Tilly and I escape The Eyrie, and twice since.”

  Zanzi filled him in on how they’d survived, the help they’d received. She confirmed their intel on the faction within OPIS. She told of the brutal execution of the three faction members, and how Milo had saved Reid’s life by giving him some of his elite nanites.

  “So can we trust him?” Ryan asked.

  “I think so. I mean, he hasn’t given us any reason not to. Yet,” Zanzi said.

  Cal shook her head. “I find it hard to believe Milo would switch sides so easily. He was up there with Offenheim. Doing his dirty work. Tracking people down. Silencing others.”

  “Offenheim killed his wife, Amelia. Right there in his penthouse, in front of everyone.”

  “Amelia’s dead?” Cal cast her eyes to the road and gripped her MP5 tighter. “She helped me a lot. It was Amelia who got Harriet out.”

  Ryan turned it all over. Many times in his long career, he’d had to trust those he was uncertain of. And he was still here, alive and kicking. He thumbed his radio again. “Trust him for now, but I’m concerned that he knew exactly where we are.”

  “I had a feeling you’d say that. Listen. Milo arrived thirty minutes after you left. He had to be watching the safe house, so it’s safe to assume OPIS knows our location.”

  Ryan looked up as Sofia’s words ran through his mind. The roads appeared empty and silent. Apart from the choppers, nothing moved. Everyone seemed to be obeying the government ordered curfew.

  OPIS knows our location.

  That could only mean one thing. Somehow, they were being tracked. Or observed? Satellites? They had access to all the spy satellites now, with President Ward controlling the government.

  “We’re coming in. Can you give us a clear route? We have Black Skulls everywhere out here,” Ryan said into his radio.

  “On it. Move east two blocks and take a right. Stay off the interstate. Head through the city. Traffic and CCTV cameras are clear.”

  With Sofia guiding them, Ryan and the others slowly made their way toward the safe house. Some of the streets had been cleared, vehicles pushed out of the way. None of the ash remains had been attended to. Ryan grimaced. Everyone deserved a funeral. They should not be left to the elements like this. He made a promise to the fallen that they would have a memorial for all those lost.

  As they passed a row of car dealerships, he paused and gazed at the rows of vehicles. The prickly feeling he sometimes got in the back of his brain nagged at him that something wasn’t right. Something was out of place. The Black Skulls had chased them every step of the way, yet now they were nowhere to be seen. He stopped and swiveled his MP5 across the dealership yards, his eyes searching.

  “What is it?” Cal asked.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Ryan said. “The Black Skulls have chased us since the hospital, even down into the stormwater system. And where are the Siphons?”

  Zanzi pointed south toward the nearest hill. “They’ll be up there. At night, they congregate around the cell towers.”

  “We saw that in Prince Rupert,” Booth said.

  Reid, on the other side of the road, held his fist up. The group halted. “There’s a roadblock up ahead. Two Humvees with M240s, five
commandos, heavily armed.”

  “Hold your position,” Ryan said, and turned to Booth and Cal. “Booth, scout a block east. Cal, go west. We might have to circle around.”

  “Wilco.”

  Booth and Cal moved away, keeping to the shadows. The Nameless were so used to moving in the darkest gloom that they naturally sought it out, even at night. Ryan admired his wife for a few seconds as her athletic figure slunk away.

  He activated his comms. “Sofia, we’ve got a roadblock, armed men on North East Broadway. You can’t see that?”

  “Negative. Cameras are showing nothing… Wait…” Sofia cursed, something unintelligible in Spanish. “I just noticed a slight jump. One minute while I check the cameras. Avondale, have you seen this…”

  Ryan turned his head toward the car dealership again, certain he’d overlooked something.

  Booth’s voice came over the comms. “Roadblock east as well.”

  “West and south too,” Cal said. “They’re tightening the noose.”

  “Hold your positions.” Ryan grimaced and caught Zanzi’s gaze. “If it goes south, you must protect Josie, understood?” he said.

  It was then that he noticed what was wrong. In the car dealership, there was every make and model of Toyota. Cars, SUVs, minivans. However, parked nearer the back were larger SUVs, their height and boxy shape making them stand out. He crouched, and waved Zanzi and Josie down just as headlights glared bright, temporarily blinding him.

  Ryan blinked and rolled away. He pushed up onto his knees and let off a barrage of rounds. The boxy SUVs roared to life, tires squealing as they sped toward the group.

  “Go!” he shouted to Zanzi. “I’ll cover you.”

  She shook her head and joined him in firing at the fast-approaching vehicles. They flew down the driveway of the dealership, screeched out onto the road and, in turn, whipped around in 180-degree spins. The tinted windows of the SUVs were down and rifle barrels, poking out, spat bullets.