by Wesley Chu
To his left, Smitty, his second division commander, fell to a spray of bullets. Stephen veered to the right as a stream of small eruptions on the ground zinged at him. He dove to the side and huddled behind an upturned patch of earth. He peered over the top, shot two Genjix, and continued on. Before he knew it, he had reached the splintered fence and was climbing over the mound into the camp.
Stephen was nearly impaled by a destroyed section of fencing as he jumped down into the makeshift trench and killed an enemy with a point-blank shot to the face. Then he dove to the side as a line of bullets sprayed just over his head. He pressed on, the image of Fromme’s face etched into his head. He was going to save all his people today or die trying. The melee continued as small groups of Prophus and Genjix collided.
Stephen and his staff took on a larger group of Genjix from behind, eliminating half of them in their initial charge. He took out a Genjix’s kneecap and finished him with a crushing blow to the face. He grappled a guard from behind and snapped his neck as the guard beat on one of the prisoners. And then the prisoners joined his gang, swelling their numbers.
The fighting raged on, with the Prophus slowly pushing the Genjix toward the center complex. Enemy snipers from the upper windows in the building became an issue, and the offensive stalled. As long as his men were outside, they were sitting ducks. The enemy had fortified themselves inside. They had to press on. Stephen roared and led the charge, knowing his men and women would follow. And they did.
The battle intensified as the fighting became concentrated at the three narrow entrances of the building. Leading the charge on the northern entrance, Stephen saw the young psychopath in the thick of the melee. Enzo, wielding a machine gun and a machete, was a whirlwind of death, taking out anyone who got within reach. In a span of five seconds, he took out six Prophus soldiers, including one host. Even more impressive was that Enzo was speaking through a mic, giving orders without missing a beat. Somehow, the boy was effectively managing the battle while wading through the thick of it. Stephen had to admit he was breathtaking.
Stephen, withdraw. You have control of the exits and the majority of the prisoners. You cannot match an Adonis Vessel.
“I’m not that old yet, Camr.”
The boy is not worth it.
He saw Fromme’s face again, and Ginny’s, and his friends who had died in the laboratories. That boy needed to be put down. If this boy wasn’t worth it, he didn’t know what was. Zoras being on the Council was just a bonus.
Stephen charged straight in.
Enzo was having the time of his life. This was the glory he’d always envisioned. No more hiding behind fences or plowing through thick forests into ambushes. He reveled in the honest combat where two sides locked themselves together until one fell, where a warrior could see the will drain out of his beaten foe’s eyes. Guns and technology had made boys out of men. Now, in this chaos, the fight reverted back to how man was meant to kill: with his bare hands. Still, even though Enzo reveled in this melee, he was not an unthinking beast. There was a plan in this defense, and it was working to perfection.
Do not push out, but do not retreat too quickly. Draw them in. Give them a reason to press on.
Their tactic was working and would prove to be the linchpin to winning the day. Enzo admitted that while he thought he was versed in matters of war, he was like a babe next to Zoras. He may have been knowledgeable in strategy and command and was quick to identify and forecast tactics, but Zoras really understood the timing and flow of a battle. That came from the experience of centuries of warfare. Enzo would be wise to learn.
Meyers is reporting that they’ve broken through the Prophus line. Order him back.
The frenzied battle had raged for thirty minutes, and the initial disruption caused by the prisoners had proved costly for the Genjix. They had lost the advantage of being a defending force. Whatever sport claimed the best offense was a great defense, it was doubly so for war. The mark of a great general was the control he had over his troops amidst the chaotic battle. By fighting in the interior and keeping the Prophus in a holding pattern, the Genjix could inflict heavy casualties while replenishing some of their tired and injured ranks. It also left the Prophus wildly exposed. All it required was Enzo’s exacting control over his men. His lips curled into a sneer as his men baited and repelled the Prophus at the steps leading up to the doorway. Meanwhile, snipers on the upper level decimated Prophus ranks.
Suddenly, a body charged forward and slammed into him, pushing him into his men. The Prophus surged at just the right time, and the northern exit point crumbled. Enzo twisted around and grappled with his assailant.
It is Camr!
When he realized it was Stephen, he smirked. Things had just gone from good to better. Still being pushed back by Stephen’s momentum, Enzo locked onto the other man’s arm and twisted, throwing him through a window, shattering the glass, into the corner room.
Stephen’s specialty is Aikido and boxing. Utilizes little footwork but has power in both hands. Do not count on him to tire.
He put his hand on the nearest officer. “Maintain choke points. Under no circumstances do you push forward. And make sure I am not disturbed.”
He turned back to climb over the window only to take a punch to the jaw that snapped his head back. Now, a lot can be learned about a person by how they react to being sucker punched. It’s one thing when a person knows a punch is coming. It’s another when his mind isn’t prepared to get the brain rattled. Well-trained fighters instinctively cover up and protect their heads. Almost all take a step back to try to access the situation. The unlucky ones freeze like deer watching the headlights of a fast approaching semi-truck.
Enzo was none of these. He was an apex predator, and when an apex predator is attacked, he attacks back. Even as the bone of Stephen’s knuckle cracked against his chin, momentarily causing his vision to blur, his hands reacted the only way they knew how. Three quick blind jabs, two of them connecting with Stephen’s face, were his body’s response. Both men fell backward, but it was Enzo who recovered first and leapt through the window into the room.
“You and I are about to have a long, painful talk, old man,” Enzo said.
Stephen, who was still picking himself off the floor, had the audacity to grin. “So you’re that smart ass chosen one who’s pissed everyone off.” He made a face. “Thought you’d be taller.”
Enzo launched a vicious attack, swinging a nine-strike combination with his legs, fists, and elbows, tossing in a head butt for good measure. He thought the best the old man could do was duck the first few hits before the withering barrage overwhelmed him. Instead, Stephen took the first punch, sidestepped, and using Enzo’s forward momentum, shoved and tripped him from the side. Enzo crashed into the wooden door and knocked it off its hinges. He found himself back in the crowded hallway.
You are taking him too lightly. He is a master of counterattacks. Watch his left hand.
Enzo’s earpiece crackled. “Father, we have a situation on the eastern flank. Requesting reinforcements.”
“Not now!” Enzo snapped. He grabbed the two men who positioned themselves between him and Stephen. “This one is mine. I do not wish to be disturbed. Keep the rabble out.”
Then a brazen Prophus fool tried to charge past the line to reach Stephen. He pushed past the initial Genjix line and almost made it into the room. Enzo caught him by the neck, threw him down on the ground, and killed him with a punch to his throat. He looked up at the nearest officer. “I said, keep the line intact! Do not disturb me!”
He stepped back into the room and paid Stephen a bit more respect as they sized each other up. Stephen stayed just out of range of the taller man’s reach and seemed in no particular hurry to engage.
After nearly a minute of the two just circling each other, Stephen spoke. “Well, this is fun.”
“Come at me, old man,” Enzo sneered.
“You know, I’m only in my fifties. Early fifties that is. I consider mys
elf middle-aged, thank you.”
“The body is the first...” Enzo stopped as a loud yell from his comm popped into his ear.
“Enemy occupying southeastern corner room. They’re coming in through the windows!”
You need to finish this quickly. Your forces have no leader.
“Send the auxiliary–” Those were the only words Enzo got out before Stephen charged.
The old man’s first step was quicker than Enzo realized. He parried the initial strike, but fell victim to an arm lock as Stephen cranked his elbow, nearly dislocating it. He gritted his teeth and pushed back. On a lesser man, Stephen’s move would have snapped the limb, but Enzo was the product of the Hatchery. He tightened his arm and muscled his way out of danger. He followed with an uppercut cross combination that Stephen just barely ducked.
He clicked on his earpiece. “Auxiliary on eastern stairwell, relocate to the southern–”
Again, Stephen attacked before he could finish his sentence. This time, there was a hint of desperation and wildness to his charge. Enzo easily countered it, picked him up, and slammed him against the wall. Stephen bounced off with a thump, but was on his feet once more, though a bit unsteady.
“Already weakening,” Enzo smiled. “I haven’t even broken a sweat yet.”
Stephen pressed the attack, this time a lengthy exchange that felt half-hearted. Enzo fought him off easily, wondering what this tactic would buy the old man. Surely he must know that he would tire before Enzo. He was just wasting his time and energy. Then he noticed the band around Stephen’s throat, and for the first time, realized that he was using a throat mic. The man had been giving orders the entire time, and Enzo had been oblivious to what was going on.
“It’s not going to be that easy, old man!” he yelled, launching a vicious attack.
“It already has been,” Stephen smirked.
Enzo’s fury was too much for Stephen to handle. Gradually, the superior strength and speed of the Adonis Vessel began to overwhelm the tiring older man. Enzo knocked him down and pounced. He began to rain blows down on Stephen. Whenever Stephen tried to cover up, Enzo knocked his arms aside and continued to pummel him until his fists were red with blood. He took immense satisfaction in each blow, bringing his fists down harder and harder. Eventually, he did tire, but by that time, Stephen’s face was unrecognizable.
Sucking in large gulps of air, Enzo stood up and spit on Stephen’s face. “My will. My strength. Know your betters, betrayer.”
To his surprise, Stephen summoned the last of his energy to pull himself into a sitting position and chuckled. Enzo watched in perplexed amazement as the broken body of his opponent struggled to stand. It was almost comical. Finally, Stephen got on his feet and leaned against the wall for support. His bloody hands palmed the window, leaving a red handprint on the glass.
“Win the fight, lose the battle,” Stephen coughed, blood dripping down the corner of his mouth. “My teams have broken into your central holding room and have freed all the prisoners. The rest of your men are pigeonholed in this wing making sure your fun is undisturbed. It’s all just about over. You lost!”
Enzo suddenly realized he had no idea what was going on with the battle. He had lost his earpiece beating Stephen. He picked it up off the ground and put it back on. “Report!” he screamed.
The news was just as Stephen had predicted. The chain of command had broken and his men were paralyzed without his leadership. Once the Prophus took the entrances and pushed Enzo’s forces to one half of the building, they were able to lay suppression fire on the windows long enough to release all the prisoners. Now, they were fleeing into the forest. They had all escaped. Every single one.
“I still have you, old man,” he snarled, tossing the earpiece onto the floor. “You and your betrayer!”
“You got me, alright,” Stephen grinned, showing bloodstained teeth, “but I’ll be damned if I let a two-bit punk like you get a hold of Camr. Always a step ahead of you.” Stephen swung his hand into the window, shattering the glass. He grabbed one of the shards and jammed it into his neck. Blood gurgled out of his mouth as he slid down to the ground in a heap.
“Goodbye, Camr,” he whispered. Then he looked up at Enzo and stuck out his middle finger as his body went limp. Enzo could only watch in dismay as Camr rose from Stephen’s body, circled over it as if paying final respects, and then flitted out of the window into the Tibetan sky.
FORTY-TWO
COMING OF AGE
I do not blame you, Jill. I hope you understand that. I tell you this because you are my host and because you are my daughter as well. You have come far, and will go much further. The future is uncertain, and the road ahead will be dangerous. Know that I will be with you every step of the way, for the end times of this war are near.
With the recent revelations you and I have caused, we will either save all of humanity, or cause the destruction of the Quasing, or both. I fear that for the first time, I might have earned the title of Prophus, of betrayer, for I might be the first to doom my kind.
Baji
Jill, Marco, Emerson with newly acquired Eymi, and a spry dark-skinned agent named Felipe, left through the hidden tunnel and made their way toward the light on the far end. The tunnel was built similarly to the entrance at the first silo, except it had collapsed long ago. Now, there was barely enough room to squeeze single-file through the fifty-meter passage. It had taken Jill longer than she would have liked to get through to the open air. Every minute counted, and she exhaled in relief when she felt the cool breeze entering her lungs. It wasn’t dawn yet, but she could just make out the faint amber of sun in the distance.
That took five minutes. You do not have much time.
They were on the other side of the hill in one of the tertiary ravines connecting the paths cut from the dry riverbed. They could hear the faint patter of gunfire echoing in the distance. Marco got his bearings and immediately took off running. The rest followed him around the bend and down to the side path. It was another five-minute sprint over rough terrain before they reached the entrance. The sky was getting lighter by the second. If they did not hurry, they would soon lose the cover of darkness.
The group stopped short of the entrance and took cover behind a row of thick bushes. There were two dozen cars and vans parked in the ravine and roughly fifteen people milling around the outside gate. Five of them hovered over the hood of a Range Rover that was being used as a makeshift command table. Jill recognized Simon among the group. Her eyes narrowed.
Put him out of your mind. You have lives to save. Killing him is a bonus, but we have other priorities.
Marco gathered them around as he doodled in the dirt. He and Jill would draw the Genjix away. Emerson would carry the launcher while Felipe brought the RPGs. Hopefully, these old relics still worked. Once the heat was on them – mostly Marco; she was supposed to hide and snipe – it was their job to cave the entrance.
“Should someone else be carrying these?” She tried to hand the grenades off. “They make me nervous.”
Marco shook his head in resignation and chuckled. Jill wanted to smack him right there. He turned to Emerson and Felipe. “You’ve got one chance. See you chaps in five.” And then the two men were gone.
A grenade is not like a DVR. You just pull the pin and throw it. There are no other buttons to press.
“I’m not comfortable handling them. Besides, I suck at softball.”
You throw knives just fine.
“It’s different. Knives don’t explode.”
Emerson and Felipe disappeared behind the fleet of cars and made their way from directly opposite the entrance while Marco and Jill went in from the side. They crept closer, hiding between cars until they were within a stone’s throw of the Genjix agents.
Marco pointed to her and then to his left. Then he lobbed a grenade toward the group of Genjix and ducked back behind the car. Jill heard the bonk of the grenade bouncing off the hood of the car and the cries of alarm from the Genjix
diving to the ground. The explosion never came.
“Oh bloody hell,” Marco growled. “Toss yours. I’ll lead them away.” He stood up and opened fired, running away from her location.
With badly shaking hands, Jill pulled the pin of her grenade and then nearly dropped it.
Steady. Just throw it!
An image of the Genjix around the Range Rover flashed in her head. She noted the three cars in between their positions. Hefting the weighty explosive in her hand, she stood up and lobbed it as far as she could toward the makeshift table. Unfortunately, throwing the damn thing felt like tossing a shot put. The grenade fell ten meters short of the target. Fortunately, there was a reason for the saying about horseshoes and hand grenades. The grenade bounced off the hood of one of the Range Rovers and rolled forward directly into the path of half a dozen Genjix agents were rushing after Marco. The resulting explosion knocked her off her feet. She saw at least two bodies fly through the air, slamming into car windows and landing on hoods. Jill picked herself up and ran in the opposite direction to Marco.
Remember your training. Roll to your left now!
By instinct, she followed Baji’s every command. Weeks of constant training kicked in and her body moved reflexively. She saw a quick mental image of a Genjix agent kneeling against the side of a car. She dove left just as he opened fire.
Over and on the hood. Shoot at your one.
She rolled out of the somersault gracefully and jumped on top of the car hood. Mid-jump, she turned toward the Genjix, flattened her body, and fell on her side. She aimed at her one o’clock, took a split second to adjust her shot, and fired. It took three shots to find her mark, but the Genjix fell, clutching his leg.
One from your two and three at your ten converging on Felipe and Emerson. Distract them.
Jill rolled off the hood and landed flat on her stomach. Peering under the car through the weeds and rocks, she saw a pair of boots sprinting toward her. She unloaded her clip and heard a satisfying cry of pain as whomever the boots were attached to fell. Then she began to trail the three engaging Felipe and Emerson. The two Prophus agents were pinned down by those three and another two near the door. Time was running out. In a few seconds, someone from the inside would notice the fight outside and then their opportunity would be lost. Then, she saw Felipe fall from a bullet to the chest.