by Justin Sloan
“You figured right,” Bloodhound said. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to go around jeopardizing the mission, or asking questions we shouldn’t be.”
“So you’re telling me you don’t want to know?”
“You do?”
Stealth stared, blinked, then looked away. “Lately, I’m not only thinking I want to know… I need to know.”
When he looked up again, the other two were staring at him like he was some sort of freak. To think that they had the same issues but didn’t care… it made no sense! But before he could say another word, talking and footsteps sounded close by. Likely the rest of the team they were to rendezvous with.
The others turned the corner, and Stealth saw that he’d been wrong on that—not the rest of the team at all. Instead it was a team of three men and two women, one of them large and unmistakably the one everyone referred to as the Heel. She worked for Veles in one of the most disruptive groups on the station, distinguished by the three black tattoo lines across their left temples.
It was religious, they claimed, so they were protected. That protection didn’t mean a damn thing when the Heel had a rifle aimed at your heart, however.
Pete and Bloodhound were already diving for cover, but Stealth took a knee and let loose a barrage of bullets. He took down the closest two with shots to their exposed necks, a third bullet drawing blood from the Heel’s thigh. His last shot missed, but he was already rolling to his right to get back around the corner and join Pete. Bloodhound was on the other side, so that they were in the upper portion of the T of the hallway.
“This isn’t good,” Pete was mumbling to himself, while Stealth waited for a barrage of return fire to pause.
“You think?” Stealth shouted in response.
Pete blinked, pulled himself together, and said, “If they’re at the rendezvous…”
“They might’ve already taken out the rest of our team.” Stealth finished the sentence. “Damn.”
Bloodhound roared from the other side, motioned for them to move, and then charged out. He apparently had more faith in his armor than Stealth did, but no way was that guy going to get all the glory. Pete and Stealth charged out too, firing as they went.
To Stealth’s right, Pete took out two rods from the back of his belt and slammed them onto the ground. Each stuck with magnetic suction, then extended. A green field of energy flickered to life between them, bullets vanishing in the shield. He ducked behind and waved Stealth over, but Bloodhound was too into the battle. The crazy bastard had run on, and now leaped off of the wall even as bullets came his way. He shot one soldier in the head, then turned with a punch in mid-air that ignited a flamethrower at his wrist. The burst caught the Heel, and would have done her in if she hadn’t already been dodging out of the way. Only the back of her black jacket caught fire for a moment, while she turned and brought out a small mine that she slapped to the wall before ducking out of view.
“Oh, shi—” Bloodhound started, backpedaling, but too late.
KA-BOOM! The explosion sent debris into the shield, throwing Bloodhound up and over their heads to slam into the far wall.
No ringing of the ears, thanks to the shield and their helmets, but Stealth was still pretty rocked by having witnessed that. Never one for letting a bit of shock get the best of him, he was up a moment later, ready to return the favor.
He decided to play it smart, though, and first used the cover of the shield to return fire, then ran and pushed off the walls like Tropical had shown him earlier. Here there weren’t pillars he needed to land on, but there was a needed element of surprise.
Darting out from behind cover while nobody was there to watch, he leaped and kicked off from the closest wall. He threw a flash bang against the other side so that it hit and then bounced into the hall.
It went off and several curses sounded, then he had landed and was charging in, shooting at anything that moved. One enemy fell, then another. Even as he was firing, more came charging around the corner with makeshift riot shields. He had to laugh—you put some engineers in a gang, they’ll find unique ways for that gang to use recycled steel.
Pete came up behind him, providing more fire. Seeing the shields come at them, though, Stealth realized they needed their own shield here. He turned, looking for it, when Pete saw what he was doing and said, “Here, plant one!”
He tossed one of the poles from earlier to Stealth, and together they slammed them into the ground. In the nick of time too, because bullets began raining down on them.
“The shield won’t hold forever,” Pete said. “How many more grenades you got?”
He checked and came out with two.
“Lob ‘em,” Pete said, holding up a disc-shaped weapon, which he prepared to throw as he said, “Now!”
They did, and then the enemy converged on the explosives. Their shields contained the first, but not the second. A blast went off, then smoke filled the chamber.
“Masks,” Pete said, hitting a button at the side of his helmet that triggered the sides to unfold and cover his nose and mouth. He pushed the mouth portion in, took a breath, and then hit the button for Stealth, apparently remembering it was his first time with this kind of helmet.
Stealth pressed as he’d been shown with gas masks, breathing out at the same time to clear the mask, and then he was ready again.
The enemy was either down or fleeing now, and the two gave chase.
“Save some for me, boys,” a voice cut through the chaos via their helmet comms. Then Bloodhound came charging in, knives in his hands. Stealth stared, amazed at the way these Taipan soldiers’ healing abilities excelled even beyond what he was used to with Project Destiny. Bloodhound was tearing up the enemy as he put on his thrusters, throwing himself at them.
He locked one in combat, then sliced his neck open and moved on to face two at once. Again there was a struggle, but the enemy soldiers were coughing heavily from the gas, and their wild strikes showed that they couldn’t see. He took them down while Pete and Stealth dealt with a couple more.
A large man came at Bloodhound, swatting the knives away. With a massive kick, he sent Bloodhound backwards and then leaped on him, tearing off his helmet and slamming him in the face with it.
Stealth had to pull back at that, the sight hitting him in the nerves. Nobody could rip a helmet off like that. And yet, he’d just seen it done.
Pete had his rifle up and took aim, but the monster grabbed two of the shields and charged. Bullets pinged off, and a moment later the giant was slamming Pete with one shield to knock the rifle out of his hands. He used the other shield to slam Pete into the wall, the impact dropping Pete instantly.
Stealth ran through ideas for what else his enhancements could do, but highly doubted whether this man didn’t have his own share.
No time to think now, he realized, as he saw the giant charging him, the Heel behind preparing to fire if her giant failed. Instead of trying to match the man with strength, Stealth fell back to what he’d learned in the Marines. Always take the hill.
He charged back, but at the last minute rolled to his left and came up with rifle at the ready, filling the giant’s right oblique with holes. Roars filled the hallway as the man collapsed to one knee, holding his side. He’d be back, Stealth imagined, but right now he had the Heel to deal with.
They both opened fire at once, each dodging to avoid being hit. His rounds tore through the other troops, some of them already lying there, dead, while her wild shots finished off the giant.
When Stealth looked up again, ready for anything, he saw the one thing he wasn’t ready for. She wasn’t there.
The Heel was actually on the run!
Stealth didn’t waste any time. He pounced up and gave chase, pausing only long enough to check the corner for more mines or any of the enemy waiting to blow his head off. Neither were visible, only the flap of the Heel’s jacket as she disappeared around the corner ahead.
“Halt!” he shouted, knowing it wouldn’t do any
good, but feeling like something ought to be called out as he unleashed more rounds. They all missed, and he was after her again. But as soon as he hit the far side of the hall, another explosion sounded from behind. The walls rumbled, followed by yet another explosion.
Dammit, if these fights continued like this, the whole station might implode, leaving them to float off into space.
He didn’t want to give up the chase for the Heel, but he’d already left his teammates in bad shape, and now there were the explosions to contend with as well. Cursing the whole way, he sprinted back. Sure enough, the hallway where the shootout had gone down was falling in around Pete and Bloodhound. Pete had managed to grab his buddy and was working to pull him free from the debris, but a bit of wiring was hanging down, sparking. If that hit them, it could mean lights out.
“Hang tight,” Stealth said, working his way through the debris. He was keenly aware that the Heel or more of their gang could return at any moment, so kept his defenses up as best he could.
“AHHHGGH!” Bloodhound shouted, then slammed his fist against the floor. One of his legs was stuck, and when Pete pulled, it wasn’t doing any good for the pain.
“I got you,” Stealth said, leaping over a fallen beam and then crouching. He relied on his strength and the support of the exoskeleton, bracing himself against the section of the wall and ceiling that were on his teammate, and then pushed. “NOW!”
Pete pulled, and together they freed Bloodhound. The thought of making a comment about rescuing a dog came into Stealth’s mind, but he decided this wasn’t the place for it.
Bloodhound tried to stand but collapsed, Stealth catching him under the shoulder. For a minute the guy looked like he was going to push him off, then nodded his appreciation.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Stealth said, glancing over his shoulder one more time to ensure they were safe. That’s when he saw her—the woman in black and purple, her helmet’s purple visor giving her a robotic appearance like something out of a video game.
Nightshade.
There were more soldiers around too, he saw now. They moved out of the shadows as she moved toward them. Two worked to secure the wiring, the others clearing a path for Stealth.
“You’re the new guy?” Nightshade asked.
Stealth nodded, tried to stand at attention, but then remembered he was supporting Bloodhound. “Yes, sir.”
She gestured and one of her guys took his spot. “They’ll get Bloodhound and Pete back to sick bay, good as new in no time. The Heel was here?”
He nodded.
“Come with me.” She started walking, three of her soldiers breaking off to help with the two wounded, while a couple more followed behind Stealth. “How long ago did you see her?”
“Not long at all.”
“How long?” Her voice was losing patience.
“Maybe a minute, tops.”
She processed this, paused, and then took off running as she shouted, “Then what the hell are we all waiting around for?”
The others were at his side, all moving with incredible speed. It wasn’t like moving with the other soldiers he had worked with. These were the elites, the Taipans, and he saw now more than ever how much their name fit. While he was struggling to keep up, they moved like one body, a snake striking out fast toward its target.
If the Heel managed to live past that night, he was certain it would be only because of sheer luck.
10
Alice: Titanian Hideout
Yerbuna had taken Alice back to the chai-hana, with its noise-cancellation systems. A gentle music carried in the air, interrupted only by the low hum of conversation and the clatter of eating. Men and women were seated about the edge of the room, and at least a couple had the posture and awareness of guards.
At a short table, the older women gestured for them to sit on the toshok. Alice reached out to take her cup and be polite, but Yerbuna held up a hand to stop her.
“It’s much too hot at the moment,” the old woman said. “Talk first, then drink.”
Intrepid gave her an amused glance, as if everyone should know that.
“Right,” Alice replied, leaning back so that she could rest her hands on the toshok. Sitting cross-legged like this for too long wasn’t her norm and it felt uncomfortable. “You want to help, how?”
“To the point. Good.” Yerbuna leaned forward. “You said so yourself… you need a new team.”
“And maybe you know too much?”
“Alice....” Intrepid gave her a stern look, then turned back to Yerbuna. “We have to take stock, see who wasn’t made. But yes, at least one of the team is out.”
Yerbuna glanced at Alice, curiously. So, she didn’t have all of the answers, at least.
“Scorpio,” Alice said. “He was our data hunter.”
“We can find one of those, I’m sure,” Yerbuna said, glancing at the teen, then back to Intrepid and then, finally, to Alice. “And your roles?”
“I led the team,” Alice said, “but my specialty was generalist and setting up the covert attack infrastructure. It’s where I got my start, after all. Intrepid here’s in charge of post-exploitation intel analysis.”
“And…?” Yerbuna nodded to the boy.
“He’s not part of it.”
“I can be,” the boy said.
Alice was about to protest, when Intrepid cleared his throat.
“What, you think he should be involved?” Alice asked in shock. “After what just happened to…?”
“My brother?” Intrepid grunted, eyes narrowing. “You can say it. As much as it pissed me off, as much as I’ll grieve tonight, the point is this needs to be done. Now more than ever.”
“I’m good at getting into tight spaces,” the boy said. “Most of my guild is.”
“Wonderful,” Alice said with a roll of her eyes.
“Don’t underestimate the youth,” Yerbuna said, but she was already moving on. “So you have a social engineer, if we find your other teammates. And a physical guy. Great, but there’s a reason you failed in your last attempt.”
“We got through, we didn’t fail,” Alice protested.
“And then you were made, and people may or may not be dead because you allowed yourselves to be lured into a trap. You do realize that’s what it was, right? They used those soldiers as bait, got you right where they wanted you.”
“Yet, we’re here, planning our next attack,” Alice replied. “What’s your point?”
“My point is they have someone good. Maybe better than you. This might not be an outside job.”
“You… want to get inside Project Destiny?” Alice glanced over at Intrepid, whose normally stern face looked as uneasy as hers. “We play the waiting game, we get in where we can. Infiltrating PD… that’s dancing in the flames.”
“Maybe.” Yerbuna leaned in, hand on her teacup, and smiled. “We try it your way for now. We’ll help you, as I said. Find out who from your team is left alive, then come back here to finalize the new team. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Intrepid leaned forward, asking the woman about Titan and their religion, apparently quite fascinated. Alice was glad to see Yerbuna starting to sip her tea. Good, Alice’s throat was parched.
She pulled the teacup up to her mouth, stopping with it inches away, staring into the swirling steam as it rose up around her face, warming her chin ever so slightly.
Back home, nobody had drunk tea that she knew of. It was a relic, a memento of the past, and of countries she hadn’t had the opportunity to visit. Every morning, she had woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, Marick on the balcony of his thirty-third floor apartment. Even though they hadn’t yet married at the time, she practically lived there. She would join him, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, but always clasping hands and drinking their coffee together as they watched the sunrise. It had been magical, oranges and reds carried in like a warm blanket to cover the endless stretches of apartments and other buildings.
She still r
emembered that day she’d stepped out and he wasn’t there, but was instead at the coffee maker, the coffee still in the pot. Even as she had approached, he stood unmoving, staring at his screen until she started to worry something was wrong.
When he’d turned to her with a smile and laughed, then ran to her and lifted her up in his arms, the worry was gone.
“I’ve been accepted!” he had whispered when he finally sat her down, as if the words had been too sacred to say out loud. “Project Destiny, they want me. Me! Can you believe it?”
She had replied that of course she could, and of course they wanted him. He was the perfect soldier.
“Marine,” he corrected her, then winced. “Well, soon to be perfect soldier too, I guess. It’s all so confusing, corporations with their own militaries.”
“That’s the new world,” she had replied. “That’s your new world.”
“Our,” he had corrected her.
“Oh, you’re taking me up with you then, are you?” she had asked with a laugh.
“If… if you’ll have me.” He ran to the other room, giddy, then came back and slid to her across the kitchen linoleum, ring in hand. “I was saving this. Didn’t think it would be like this, but—it is—and no more waiting. No more.”
Of course, she had said yes, and they’d even arranged to have a priest marry them the day before he shipped off. She would never forget the sunset that evening as she said, “I do.” And then he had kissed her and made it official. She would follow a month later, when New Origins promised they could transfer her to accompany him.
Taking a sip of tea now, she closed her eyes, embracing the warmth in her mouth and the fresh, fruitiness of it. Oranges and berries, she guessed. Focusing on it was all she could do to try and push away the memory of that day when they had come for her. She had thought they were coming to pick her up so that she could join him up on Space Station Horus, but instead they had brought news of his death.