by T. C. Edge
Yes, there was something…special out there.
A smile grew, one of a sudden and unexpected anticipation. He drew several more breaths, determining the direction, the distance, of this delightful new smell.
It was coming from the south, approaching from the far edges of the city. There would be no Panthers out there. They weren’t utilised in patrol, elite soldiers as they were. And yet, the nanites he could smell were those of the Panther Force. But they weren’t alone. No, they were joined by others.
A Spectre, he thought. A Southern Queen…
Oh, and something special indeed. The Phantom was here.
He unfurled his limbs, standing once more. He turned, looking down through the gloomy alleyway, at the glow of muted light at its end. Above him, the clouds were still gathering, as if drawn here just for him. A light rumble sounded over in the north. Oh, that wasn’t an explosion, he knew. That was thunder.
They’ve come, he thought. Hunt and his team have come. But…how did they find me?
The last thought was idle, not much of a concern. Hunt had his ways, his intelligence. No doubt he’d come across some chatter about Mikel’s presence here. Killing a Panther was always likely to cause a pulse of alarm. And Hunt, Mikel knew, kept his finger on that pulse.
He smiled again, fangs extending. A few drips of rain began to fall from above, dancing on his shoulders, tapping lightly on his slick of black hair. He drew in another long gulp of air, confirming what he already knew.
They’d come for him again. The fools had given him another chance.
A last supper, Mikel thought with a sinister grin.
His final meal would be his finest.
21
“Goddamn rain,” muttered Chloe, her black combat suit beginning to drip wet. She looked up into the grey skies, the clouds darker further to the north, yet spreading to their position south. She shook her head. Rain was the last thing they needed.
Beside her, Ragan stopped, and the others followed.
“What’s the problem?” asked Tanner. “It’s only light.”
“Gonna get heavier,” remarked Chloe, nodding towards the clouds ahead. Tanner didn’t seem overly concerned. “It’ll make visibility worse,” she explained, though she didn’t feel it needed explaining.
“Good,” said Tanner. “Make us harder to spot if there are any patrols in the area.”
“And it’ll make Mikel harder to spot too,” said Chloe. “Remus isn’t overly fond of the rain. He works better without it.”
“We’ll make do,” came Ragan’s voice, turning back momentarily, before looking north. The distant drums of war were beating from the collection of larger buildings ahead, the smoke thicker there, and the flashes of gunfire continuous. “Mikel was last spotted not far from here, closer to the main war camp. We’ll head in that direction.”
Before they continued on, Chloe briefly shut her eyes, something she’d been doing for the last half hour as they moved through the southeastern suburbs of the city. The group knew to wait as she did so, her perception switching from her own to Remus’, hovering up twenty metres above them and scanning the world ahead.
The change in vantage, from ground level, to the drone’s bird’s-eye view, took a moment to configure. She took in the shape of the streets ahead, the buildings here generally quite low, suburban dwellings never stretching beyond their two-storey limits. It wasn’t exactly the best place for hiding, the homes semi-detached, mostly granted small front gardens and larger ones at the rear.
It was probably one of the richer parts of the city, and hadn’t yet seen much fighting - that was all towards the north, the city proper - though was clearly abandoned. The occasional peppering of bullets in outer walls or street sights spoke of the looming trouble ahead, however, and not all buildings were entirely unharmed. Many, in fact, looked in a state of decay to suggest they’d been uninhabited for some time. The same was true of most large urban settlements that covered the vast swathes of land at the centre of the continent.
Some, like this, were fought over for their geographic importance, considered useful staging areas for further advancements. Or, as far as Chloe could tell, perhaps it was all just bragging rights, a means of drawing out an opposing army in order to further weaken them. Certainly, with the WSA in recent ascendancy, that looked to be the case here. They’d been pushing their frontiers, ever trying to take possession of lands closer to New York and the NDSA border. This conflict smacked of LA asserting their dominance, forcing the NDSA military into a battle of attrition. One, really, that didn’t suit them.
Chloe commanded Remus to look further ahead, the drone drifting on a little bit. Several hundred metres away, the suburbs morphed into something more ‘inner city’ in configuration - taller, tighter blocks of apartments and tenements, areas that looked rather more affected by the conflict still a fair distance away to the north.
To the northeast, the war camp was just about visible in the gathering mist. It was sprawling, and looked more permanent than temporary. Chloe knew little of how a war was run, but there appeared to be lines of barracks and sturdily constructed soldier accommodation. That suggested to her that this battle had been going on for a while, and was set to continue for some time too. She’d come across war zones like this before, but never chose to enter or get this close. It was an odd sensation to be sneaking into one, rather than running the other way.
“Chloe…”
It was Ragan’s voice, whispering into her ear. She opened up her eyes, blinked, and found him right there next to her.
“Anything?” he asked.
She looked into his eyes, and could just about make out the shine of his contact lenses. His scanner didn’t have quite the range or capacity as Remus did. When it came to larger scale surveillance, Remus was the man.
“No patrols or anything,” she said. “The war camp’s still a long way off.”
“And Mikel?”
“Nothing.”
“Right, let’s continue on then. I want to get out of suburbia as soon as possible.”
With Ragan in the lead, the group continued, a huddle of figures keeping close to cover at all times. They moved from house to house, hurdling the occasional partition fence or small wall that was still standing between gardens, operating in a cover formation as they went. All were armed with rifles, and sidearms, both capable of switching quickly to non-lethals with the flick of a finger.
That was important, Ragan had re-iterated before they set off from the falcon a short time ago, the jet set down towards the southern reaches of the city, carefully concealed by its cloaking function and the additional security of an old underpass. He’d told them - well, he’d told Tanner, specifically - that Mikel needed to be taken alive. He was their bargaining chip, the CID’s most wanted. Kill him, and it would make Ragan’s job of securing their support, and trust, a lot harder.
Chloe mused on that as they went, still remaining unsure of this plan. She’d sensed a growing desperation in Ragan to do whatever it took to make amends, to try to make up for his part in all of this. He was struggling, she knew, with the betrayals - not only his, but that of Martha, and of the Crimson Corps too. He seemed intent on regaining the support of the CID in dealing with this burgeoning threat in Chicago, but had he really thought this through?
After all, Mikel wasn’t likely to just give the CID answers freely. Perhaps they had methods of interrogation that would work on the vamp, means of extracting the information they wanted. But that information - confirming that Martha Mitchell was behind all of this, and thus the MSA were now in possession of the data - came with its own risks.
Ragan had, he’d told the group, made sure to not mention the likes of Tanner, or Nadia, or his involvement with Project Dawn, to Commander Wexley. He’d been quite careful in making sure his old boss truly believed he’d done this all for Chloe, and had no intention of destroying the data himself. That, now, might be their only option - but what would happen to Ragan if the truth
got out?
Mikel was the problem here. If he was caught and interrogated, what would stop him from revealing Ragan’s true intention? The nano-vamp knew far more about Ragan than he wanted the CID to find out. If they captured Mikel, and Ragan escorted him back to New York…then what?
Surely they’d discover the full extent of Ragan’s duplicity, the truth of his betrayal? That would make him a traitor, punishable by death. If the only option for President Rashmore now was to sanction an attack on the Mid-States, to find and destroy the data, would he spare any pity for Ragan? This man, this double agent, who’d been complicit in all this trouble.
No, of course he wouldn’t. It had been Rashmore who’d commissioned and supported Chloe’s father’s work, Rashmore who’d forced him into such a desperate position as to take his own life, and send Chloe from the city. It was Rashmore who’d begun all of this, who wanted this data, this great and terrible prize, more than anyone else.
If he learned the truth…if Ragan returned to New York with Mikel…then Chloe knew, he wouldn’t be coming back.
The thought made her pulse spike. She looked at Ragan, crouching as he advanced down the street, the rain pattering down a little harder now. Did he know? Had he thought all of this through? Did he truly realise the risks of going back, or was he so blinded by his need to make amends, that he was willing to forgo all the rest.
Willing, perhaps, to sacrifice himself.
Chloe stopped, the others moving on ahead of her. She couldn’t let that happen. No, not him. Not Ragan. She’d sooner give up on all of this than let him go back there. Why had it taken until now for her to realise? Why…
She looked up, and saw that the others had stopped. She could see Ragan’s eyes through his visor, retracted up into his helmet. He looked at her quizzically, before hurrying towards her, eyes glancing left and right.
“What is it?” he asked, anxious. “Have you seen something? Has Remus?” He looked around again, eyes narrowing. “Is Mikel near?”
Mikel. This was all about him…
Her mind ran quickly on. She couldn’t let Ragan return to New York with the vamp. She couldn’t lose him now, after all that had happened. She’d changed this last week. Something had broken inside her. Or…had it been fixed?
By him.
She smiled, nervously, and shook her head.
“Nothing. It’s OK,” she said.
“You’re sure? Remus hasn’t sensed him nearby.” He studied her more closely. “You look pale.”
She lifted the side of her mouth into a crooked grin.
“I always look pale,” she said. “That’s just my complexion.”
“No, this is different. Are you…sure you’re OK? We can stop, take a break if you want?”
Stop, Chloe thought. Yes, stop and turn back. Leave this place for good.
She shook her head, a better plan forming.
“No, I’m really OK. I’ll just…check what Remus can see.”
She shut her eyes again, changing to Remus’ perception. A quick scan revealed nothing new. They were still some way off from the war camp, and a long way from the fighting in the city centre. A few more blocks of these semi-detached homes and they’d reach the tenement towers, the network of narrower streets and lanes.
She opened her eyes, and shrugged.
“Nothing new. Mikel isn’t in range. If he’s still here…”
“He’s here,” growled Ragan, searching. “I can feel it. He’s here…somewhere.”
He gave her another supportive smile, before turning to the others. Both were watching the nearby streets, glancing occasionally at the exchange. Ragan passed by Tanner, whispering an order to him, and retook the lead position. Nadia slipped in behind, with Tanner falling back to Chloe’s side.
“You OK?” he asked quietly as they continued on, the skies continuing to darken. A few crackles of thunder had joined the beat of war, the air shivering with each percussive blast. The accompanying strikes of lightning were still a way off, hardly noticeable in the distant skies.
Chloe reached to her visor, crept a hand into her helmet, and switched off her comms. Tanner frowned.
“What are you…”
She raised a finger to her lips, and looked pointedly at him.
“Just listen,” she whispered. “I don’t want Ragan hearing this.”
“Wh…”
She opened her eyes wide, demanding he stop. His voice cut off, meandering into a breath. Then he mouthed the word, ‘What?’ with a shrug and a frown.
Chloe glanced ahead at Ragan, a dozen metres away, with Nadia just behind. Both were facing forward.
She turned back.
“If Ragan goes to New York,” she whispered quietly. “Then he won’t ever come back. Mikel knows things, Cliff. He knows what Ragan’s intentions have been all along, even if the CID don’t. Going back there…it’s suicide.”
Tanner opened his lips as if to speak, then stopped. He reached up to his visor, flipped it open, and clicked off his own comms unit. He glanced furtively down the street to the others, before looking back at Chloe.
“What did you have in mind then?” he whispered.
“Mikel,” Chloe said. “We don’t capture him. We kill him. We do that, and we stop Ragan from going back to that snake pit.”
Tanner frowned.
“You know how much that appeals to me, Chloe,” he said softly. “I’d love nothing more than to kill that creep. But…if we do this, we may lose the support of the CID. If we don’t get them on our side soon, then…” He shrugged.
“Well, we find someone else,” said Chloe. “What about the WSA? Your people?”
“It’ll take too long to convince anyone else. Ragan has a direct line to the head of the CID. If he can’t make that work, then we’re on our own. Unless Dax finds evidence, which isn’t looking likely.”
“Cliff, you really believe they’re not going to look into this regardless?” whispered Chloe. “The CID, I mean. Of course they will. There’s no harm in them considering it, given the possible dangers, right? I don’t trust them. I don’t trust this Wexley guy. I think they’re just using Mikel as bait, dangling him on a line to get Ragan to bite. I’ll bet they’re taking what Ragan’s said very seriously. They’re just pretending they’re not to bring him in. We can’t let them happen. We can’t lose him. I can’t…”
Chloe was growing desperate, eyes widening, voice pleading. She saw Tanner look ahead once more, eyes darting to the side, then back again. He looked at her pityingly, but thoughtfully too. He was considering her words, eyes pensive, head slowly beginning to nod.
“Maybe,” he whispered eventually, face grim.
The gap between the two pairs was now growing, enough to have Ragan hissing an order down comms. Comms that were currently deactivated for them both. They quickened their step, catching up, feet splashing in the rain.
Ragan looked back at them, frowning. His lips whispered something inaudible. Something they should have heard in their helmets. His frown deepened, and he tapped the side of his helmet questioningly, marching back towards them.
“Did you hear me?” he whispered harshly. “Is something wrong with your comms?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Tanner. “Bit of interference.” He reached up and flicked the switch to reactivate the connection. Chloe secretly did the same. “All right, try again,” Tanner said.
Ragan spoke once more, and his voice filtered cleanly into Chloe’s ears. Tanner nodded.
“All good,” he said. “So what were you saying?”
Ragan scowled, suspicious of something, but didn’t appear interested in furthering the matter.
“Nothing, just that you two had lost ground. We need to keep tight at a unit.”
“Sure,” said Tanner.
“Sorry,” said Chloe.
Ragan appeared unable to stay bitter at the latter. His expression softened and he turned back ahead once more, pacing off into the lead.
Chloe looked up at Tanner
as Ragan moved off, a resolute grin rising up on the Californian’s face. He nodded to her, and mouthed something very slowly, and very clearly.
OK, he said, green eyes glinting with purpose. We’ll kill the freak.
22
Mikel’s eyes were staring forward, unblinking, unmoving, watching his prey.
He could see them through the falling rain, four shadows in the growing gloom. Two at the front, two just behind, dressed in black and with rifles to their shoulders. They were coming his way, moving from the family homes of the southeastern suburbs and towards the network of apartment blocks in which Mikel lurked. This would be a better hunting ground for him. Best to let them come near.
He needed to be careful now, his movements precise and well timed. Hunt, he knew, had a lens capable of scanning for lifeforms via infrared, though its range was limited. With this cold rain, however, Mikel was able to lower his body temperature, marking him as invisible to such scanners. The rain was an ally to him, bringing darkness to conceal him, noise to hide his step. A great boon in the hunt, if you were smart.
And I am smart, Mikel thought with a smile. My mind is my greatest asset.
He couldn’t stay here, though, not for long. Hunt’s scanner also had an X-ray setting, though really that was of little use. He could see through a wall or two, perhaps, if he utilised it, but Mikel never planned on getting quite that close.
At least, not until the very end.
What was of greater concern was that drone of the Phantom girl. He’d noticed it often over the previous few days, fluttering about, changing its form, mutating before his eyes. A remarkable invention, no doubt, and a troublesome one too. It seemed to have a large array of sensors of its own, feeding the information directly to its master. Mikel had wondered just how Chloe had managed to fire that lightning of hers at him at the farm when she was blinded by the sensory grenade; it was as if she could see where he was. Clearly, she had this drone of hers to thank for that.
He could see it now, hovering above the group about twenty or so metres in the air. It was ahead of them too, scanning the way forward, its view from up there far better than theirs down on the ground.