The screen to her right was on, the sound turned down low but loud enough so that she could listen to the anchors, experts, and outraged members of the public. They were still talking about her video; none of the networks had talked about anything else since the story broke. She was glad of that, happy to know that people actually cared about murdered mods and government lies. After mailing out the envelopes to the networks, she’d had a moment of panic in which she’d wondered if it would even matter.
The fact that it had made it a little easier, somehow, for her to face what would come next.
Liane shifted in her seat, itching to begin. Damian would be there shortly, no doubt leading a small army of Agents. What she had said in the video was true; she was ready to face them.
Liane flinched when an alarm blared through the building, a pre-recorded voice saying, “This is an evacuation. Please proceed to the nearest exit. This is not a drill. Thank you . . .”
Liane stood, and began to holster the first of the many guns laid out across her coffee table and floor. She was armed as heavily as if this was a mission, fitting serrated knives into boot sheaths and flash bombs into back pockets. The last weapon was the tiny, snub-nose gun that she had used to threaten Crispin. She put that at her waist. It was loaded with hollow-point bullets, and it was the one she was going to use on herself when the time came.
If the Agency managed to take her alive, they might simply terminate her. But one thing she knew about the Agency was that it despised waste. Killing her when they could simply wipe her mind of everything she had learned . . . that would be a waste.
Liane gave a shudder simply thinking about it. Dying was nothing; death came to all Agents one way or another, and she had mentally prepared herself for that long ago. But going back to ignorance, to unknowingly serving them after what they had done to her, was hell.
So she would fight, take out as many Agents and Handlers as she could, and then she would put herself forever beyond their reach.
Liane glanced at the surveillance feed playing on her computer, noticing a flicker of movement in the lobby feed. She stared at the screen for a moment, not trusting her own eyes. But as the figure began running up the stairs, she realized that it was real.
She stood as he neared her door, staring with raw hope at the handle. In a moment it turned, and Seth burst in, still breathing hard from his run.
For a moment they simply looked at one another. Seth was the one to speak first, slightly apologetic as he said, “Look, I know you told me to run, but I really think—”
He broke off, because Liane had darted across the room to hug him. Seth stood still, utterly shocked, until she squeezed tight enough that it was difficult to breathe. He let out a wheezing laugh, saying, “Easy, easy . . . I’m not modified, remember?”
Liane lessened her grip on him but didn’t let go, her head down as she said, “Why are you here?”
“I . . . don’t really know, to be honest,” he admitted. She drew back at that, frowning up at him. Seth ran a hand through his curly hair, admitting, “I know I can’t do much to help you in the fight ahead. I may even get in your way. But . . . you shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
Her face was still and solemn as she pointed out, “You could have run. You could have gotten out.”
“No, I couldn’t,” he said simply. “You’re my partner, and we’re in this together.”
Liane swallowed the lump in her throat, saying, “I don’t think you know the odds we’re going to be facing.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he suggested. “I can be the optimist, you can be the realist.”
“What you call optimism, I call delusion.”
“Hey, we’re not out of this yet,” he said with conviction. “I’ve seen you; I know what you can do. Now that you have something to fight for . . . they’re going to be in for one hell of a war.”
“Wars always have collateral damage,” Liane said solemnly. “What about your family?”
“I told my mother to get out of the country,” Seth said, the smallest amount of tension in his jaw. “She’s on her way now, and she’ll tell my aunts and uncles to do the same.”
Liane looked hard at him, then admitted, “She might be safe, but if you stay here you won’t be. I don’t know if I can protect you in this fight.”
“You know, I’m actually a pretty good shot,” Seth pointed out. “Besides, I’ve already been burned. I have nothing left to lose, so let me help you.”
Liane looked at him, measuring what she saw, before finally nodding. “I would welcome that . . . having a friend with me.”
Seth grinned crookedly, saying, “You know, when we first met, I never dreamed we would end up here.”
Liane glanced over at the world beyond the windows, a quiet ferocity in her voice as she said, “We’re not going to end here. One way or another, I’m going to get you through this. Now here’s what we’re going to do . . .”
Chapter 17
Belgrave Square was in utter chaos. The sergeant got out of his car, looking with irritation at the blockade around the exclusive high-rise flat. The residents were protesting beyond the barriers, crying out about valuables and pets still inside. The sergeant could hear the fireman explaining, “Ladies and gentlemen, I understand, but the building’s system indicated a gas leak. So if you want to keep breathing, you’ll have to stay out here until we get it contained.”
A junior officer approached the sergeant, saying, “Sir, the building is evacuated, and we’ve received word that the Toxic Containment Unit will be handling the operation.”
The sergeant frowned. “I’ve never heard of that unit. Who gave the order?”
“The Commissioner, sir,” the officer explained. “He was very clear that we are merely here to secure the perimeter, and to leave everything to the Unit commander.”
The sergeant’s frown deepened, and he said curtly, “Where’s the one in charge of all this?”
The two police officers walked towards the building, skirting around a number of black vans. A man in a black overcoat was standing next to a sleek, black car, his dark eyes on the high-rise. He turned at the officers’ approach, nodding to the sergeant and saying, “My unit will take it from here, sergeant. I’m afraid the leak seems to be quite extensive.”
The sergeant eyed the armored men and women in gas masks waiting nearby, observing, “Very heavily armed for a containment unit.”
The man smiled, and it made the sergeant’s blood run cold. “We prepare for every measure of possibilities. Now, if you wouldn’t mind stepping back with your officer . . .”
The two made a hasty retreat, while Damian got back into the backseat of the car. He looked through the window at the skyscraper once more, his expression inscrutable. Then he reached for his phone, opening the coms to all the Agents and Handlers under his command, his voice soft as he announced, “I’m going to say this once more, and I’m going to speak slowly so that you all understand. I expect you to kill anyone else in there with her. But as for Liane, you are to apprehend; not terminate. You’re armed with tranquilizers and stun guns, so use them. Guns may be used to corral, but if you so much as graze her with a bullet, you won’t live to see the sunrise.”
He went silent, allowing a moment for the words to sink in before he added, “Now, let’s begin.”
The first team of Agents moved forward, rifles up and crouched to keep their sights steady. They entered the wide, low lobby of the building, the fluorescent lights gleaming on their body armor and goggles.
Behind the grey screen that usually hid the staff of the building, Liane watched them enter the room through the scope of her rifle. Softly, she said through her com, “They’re inside.”
The com crackled, and Seth replied, “Let’s give them a welcome, then.”
Carefully Liane took aim, a st
range calm settling over her as she fired through the screen.
The screen shattered, the sounds of breaking and falling glass echoing through the lobby. The Agents turned towards the noise, but Liane had already shot five by the time they did. One of the Agents shouted, and they all began blasting wildly towards the shattered screen.
Liane darted through the offices on the other side of the wall, crouching by the open door that led to the lobby. Plaster rained down on her as they fired at the wall. Tugging a flash bomb from her belt, she activated it and threw it into the lobby, screwing her eyes shut.
The bomb bathed the room in blinding light, and the Agents screamed in pain. She ran out into the lobby, firing with unaffected vision at them. Her bullets struck all of the remaining Agents, and she paused to make sure that they were dead before running to the stairs. The stairs curved around the well, spiraling up and up. She took them two at a time, shouting to Seth, “Get in position; I’ll bring them to you.”
Outside, Damian watched as the life sensors of the first team blinked red on his computer screen. He leaned back; so, she wasn’t going to be hesitant about killing Agents. Damian spoke into his com, “Second team, enter through the service entrance. She’s near the lobby.”
Liane looked over the stair railing, spotting black figures racing up from a lower level. She waited, poised on the balls of her feet, until they spotted her. Liane took off running as the leader shouted, “Target spotted!”
Kicking open one of the doors to the sixth level of the building, Liane ran down the hallway, reloading her gun as she went. When five Agents burst through the door to the corridor, they looked around for a moment before they spotted her. She was crouched at the end of the hall, balancing a rocket-propelled grenade on her shoulder. The lead Agent had time to see her eyes narrow before she fired, the missile launching down the hall to hit them and explode. A fireball erupted into the stairwell, taking with it another two Agents.
Damian’s hand clenched into a fist; seven more down on the sixth floor. He linked his com to the helicopter pilot, ordering, “Sixth floor; push her back to the Agents.”
Liane heard the helicopter before she saw it, turning to see the machine cutting through the rain and turning sharply to hover by the hallway window. She spotted the machine gun swivel towards her and ran through an open flat door and threw herself behind the kitchen island. The world exploded, bullets shattering windows and striking furniture and walls. Liane covered her head with her arms, teeth gritted as she waited for them to run out of bullets.
After a few minutes the world went still again, and Liane leapt up, using the island to steady her hand as she took aim at the gunner. One shot and he went down, the helicopter veering away from the building.
Damian listened over the noise of the helicopter as the pilot shouted, “Sir, I’ve lost my gunner. I’m pulling back.”
Damian smiled coldly to himself, thinking, That’s my girl; still a perfect marksman, even in this mess. To his Agents, he said, “Stairwell team, move forward and engage. Next team, enter through the lobby. She’s occupied upstairs.”
Liane heard the Agents running up the hall, and quickly stood and took off towards the nearest doorway at a run. The first Agent through the door fired, tranquilizer darts embedding themselves in the doorframe mere seconds after she had passed through it.
Liane ran through the extensive flat, coming to a bedroom. She leapt over the thin tripwire at ankle-level, rounding another corner and freezing. The Agents on her heels, unprepared and unsuspecting, barreled through the wire and were blown apart. Liane turned her face away from the heat and debris, hearing the surviving Agents shout, “Agents down, Agents down! Tripwires across the—”
Liane whirled around the doorway, firing furiously at them. Several more Agents fell, but one near the back got off a shot that hit her in the shoulder. She didn’t pause but turned and ran back to the stairwell. There were several Agents waiting for her, their guns trained on her as they shouted to her to freeze, to raise her hands. Slowly, Liane did as they ordered.
From above, three shots were fired, hitting the Agents in the back. They all went down, and Liane looked up to see Seth aiming over the railing some five stories above.
“You took your time,” she said over the com, breathing hard.
Seth grinned down at her. “Just wanted to give you a sporting chance before saving the day. Come on.”
A sudden wave of dizziness hit Liane, and she looked to her shoulder to find that she’d been hit not with a bullet, but with an armor-piercing tranquilizer dart. She yanked it out, realizing at last what they were trying to do. Crushing the dart in her gloved hand, she let the remains of it fall to the floor before taking off up the stairs.
Down in the black car, Damian watched as the icons of several more Agents went red. “Roof team, begin your descent. They’re on the eighth floor and moving upwards.”
Liane and Seth raced up the stairs together. Liane could feel a stitch in her side from her bullet wound, realizing too late that she should have upped her dosage. How was I supposed to know, though? she wondered grimly, keeping her pace slow so that Seth could keep up. How does one determine dosage of anything when you aren’t even human anymore?
They finally reached the thirteenth floor, moving through the door and into the corridor. Liane glanced at Seth, asking, “Are you ready?”
He nodded, going through another open flat door. Liane skidded to a halt in the middle of the corridor, waiting for the Agents behind them to catch up. She waited at a crouch, her eyes on the door as she prepared for them to enter. But instead of Agents, the door exploded off of its hinges, fire and sparks filling the entrance. Unprepared for the explosion, Liane hesitated in running for a few milliseconds; long enough to take another tranquilizer shot to the leg. She pulled it out as she ran, and the Agents were hot on her heels as she ran through the flat. Seth was waiting for her in a bedroom, and together they slammed the door shut on the Agents. Seth mashed down on the detonation trigger in his hand, and the room on the other side of the door exploded. Liane gritted her teeth, pressing as hard as she could against the door until the heat and noise subsided.
The explosion left Liane’s ears ringing, and it took her a moment to make out the shattering of glass from the direction of her own flat. Turning fast, Liane told Seth, “They’re inside on this floor. Stay here.”
She was off and running towards the flat and had time to count over a dozen armed Agents entering her room via the windows. She threw a smoke bomb through the open door, and thick, black smoke was soon billowing out. She could hear their frightened shouts and lay flat on her stomach to fire at their lower legs. Several were hit, crashing down to the floor with cries of pain. Liane darted inside just as the smoke began to clear, taking careful aim at the ones still on their feet. She had just felled another Agent when pain seized the right side of her body, sending her down onto one knee as she cried out. The wounded Agent on the ground pulled away the stun gun for a moment, and then drove it into her side over the bullet wound. Liane screamed, falling to the ground, muscles convulsing over and over.
A shot rang out and the Agent fell dead to the ground. Looking up through tearing eyes, she saw Seth entering the room, his gun extended and gripped in both hands. He shot two more wounded Agents, and then came to kneel next to her. His voice was worried as he asked, “Are you alright?”
Liane nodded, standing amidst the sea of bodies. The flat was utterly destroyed, the white carpets scattered with glass, blood, and black residue from the smoke. Liane felt numb as she looked at it all. The crackle of static from a com caught her attention, and she removed one from the ear of the nearest Agent, holding it up to her own and listening as Damian’s voice said, “Roof team, report.”
“They’re dead, Damian,” she said, feeling another wave of dizziness from the drugs now pumping through her system.
There was a pause, and then he asked, “How did it feel to kill them, Liane? To shoot down your fellow soldiers like targets, like enemies?”
She drew in a sharp breath, then said, “They are my enemies. So is anyone who stands with the Agency or the Party.”
“Including me?” he asked.
She could feel her features grow taut as she said, “I don’t want you to be. Call them off; let me run.”
“I can’t do that, Liane,” he answered evenly. “You know I can’t.”
“And I can’t go back to being their weapon,” she said in return.
“It seems we’re at an impasse.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, I tried,” Damian said lightly. “It’s a shame about your friend, that he had to get caught up in all this.”
Liane heard something from the hallway, going stiff and turning just in time to see an Agent come around the door. The woman’s weapon was already raised and pointed at Seth, and he didn’t even have time to turn before she shot him in the back.
The world around Liane seemed to move in slow motion; she saw Seth pitch forward, knocked off his feet by the force of the bullet. The Agent in the doorway was turning another weapon at Liane but was shot dead before she had time to aim. Liane moved forward, shooting wildly with an automatic assault rifle. The other Agents fell back, trying to get away, and she had just enough time to slam the door shut and drive the heavy bolts into place.
Pounding began on the other side of the door as they attempted to batter it down. Liane ignored it, running back to Seth and rolling him onto his side. There was only a small entry wound in his back, but his front was a mess of blood and torn tissue. His teeth were gritted in pain, his eyes wide with shock. Liane looked at him helplessly for a moment, and then ran to her bedroom.
She had her drug kit in hand in seconds, as well as a belt and two small towels from the bathroom. Racing back, she threw all of the items next to Seth. The folded towels went over the entry and exit wounds, the belt used to tightly strap them in place and, she hoped, to staunch the bleeding. Her hands shook as she filled a syringe with a measure of adrenalin and painkillers, carefully injecting the cocktail into his vein. As it filled his bloodstream, Seth’s gaze focused on her once more.
The Titan Strain Page 21