by Wesley Chu
“Wait, there’s five guys,” Ella muttered. “Cameron, there’s one mo–”
There was a crack of a gunshot and Cameron staggered and fell to one knee, clutching his lower back. His attacker stepped behind him and struck him in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle.
“You’re lucky the Adonis wants you alive, betrayer,” the man said.
Ella, no! Do not get involved.
Ella wasn’t listening. A hundred hours of Manish’s repetitive training kicked in. Her eyes scanned the man’s body, and then her hands flashed to her thigh band. A throwing knife streaked out a quarter of second later and bounced harmlessly off the man’s left shoulder.
“Crap.”
She pulled out another knife and tried again. She missed by a hand span. Filled with adrenaline, her shaking hands just couldn’t throw straight. This time, though, she had gotten the man’s attention. He turned toward her, but Ella was already slipping away from his line of sight, her right hand going toward her back waistband while her left went to her right ribcage. Now she understood why Manish grilled her so relentlessly on knowing how to throw with both hands. The third throwing knife was flying out even as the combat knife appeared in her right hand. It, too, missed and bounced off the van with a loud clang.
“Why does my aim suck?”
You are not used to a live fire situation. Take a deep breath.
Having to think about breathing made her breathe even faster and she began to hyperventilate. Fortunately, her last throw had forced the soldier to duck, buying Ella time to close in. She charged him, swinging her long serrated knife. She slashed him twice on the arm and once in the knee. The last slash buckled his legs, and then she jammed the knife into his chest.
Unfortunately, it didn’t go in very far. Either the body armor he wore was too tough, or she wasn’t strong enough. It was probably both, but her blade sunk only a few centimeters in and then stopped. The man threw an arm out and nearly took her head off. Ella ducked at the last second, but lost her balance and fell onto her butt. She scampered backward on all fours as the man, snarling, stood up and limped toward her.
“I’m going to rip your nose off,” he growled.
He pulled out his own knife and suddenly pitched forward onto his face. Cameron had grabbed his legs from behind, and was on top of him moments later. Three brutal strikes to the back of his head, and the man stopped moving.
Cameron looked at her. “Are you all right?”
Ella exhaled and managed to nod. Cameron gritted his teeth and stood up. He stumbled and put a hand on his right lower back. “That’s a busted rib.”
The sound of pounding footsteps grew, and they turned to see the rest of the team sprinting toward them. Jax stayed next to the wall and continued his suppression fire at the loading dock. Lam took one look at the bodies around them and noticed one of their assailants picking himself off the ground. She raised her rifle and plugged him once in the chest.
She turned to Nabin. “Get the van started.”
Ella helped Cameron climb into the van bed while Dana and Nabin picked up Dubs’s body. The van was pulling away from the factory when Jax broke from his position and came sprinting after them. He managed to climb inside as they turned at the end of the driveway. Lam and Dana closed the double doors behind him and the group watched somberly as they sped away.
Ella, sitting next to Cameron, watched as more soldiers poured out of the factory. One of the last to come out had a shock of blonde hair. The woman walked to the middle of the street and stared as they pulled away. Ella heard a sharp intake of breath as Cameron looked on.
“I can’t believe it’s actually her,” he muttered.
“How do you know her?” Ella asked.
He shook his head. “It’s a long story. We had a thing when we were young, briefly.”
Ella frowned. “Thing? Wait, you dated that coldblooded bitch?”
“It’s complicated. Alex and I have history.”
“Alex? She said her name is Shura.”
Both Shura and Alex are nicknames for Alexandra.
“That’s what I knew her by.” Cameron grimaced and laid down on the van floor. He looked up at his worried team. “We’re going to need to find a safe place to crash tonight. Dana, can you locate another safe house?”
“Sorry, Cameron, the Prophus have no active safe houses in this region. There are a few expired resources, but none have been verified since before the war.”
“Can we book a hotel?” Lam asked.
“That’s risky,” said Cameron. “We don’t know how much influence the Genjix have here. Five foreigners with our descriptions can’t be hard to locate. And then there’s the matter of Dubs’s body, especially in this weather.”
Ella saw the look on everyone’s faces and felt the need to do something, to make herself useful. They were all strangers and she didn’t owe them anything, but she felt responsible for what had happened. No, she was responsible for what happened. Everything was so messed up.
Your home is their only option. It will not be comfortable, but it is a roof over their head.
Ella nodded to no one in particular. It was the least she could do. After all, she was local support. It was her job to take care of them. All she had done was lead them into a trap. It seemed no matter what, all the Prophus who came here were somehow doomed.
She opened her mouth and was about to offer to let the team crash at her home when it hit her. She had everything backward all along. She was wrong and Hamilton was right. She was the double agent! Ella’s world came crashing down inside her head. Her gasp was so loud everyone stared at her. She covered her mouth with her hand.
Ella…
She was Bijan’s contact when he came to survey the site. She was the recon team’s contact. Now, she was Cameron’s team’s contact. She had led Cameron’s team into a trap and the Genjix were waiting. They were all nearly captured and one of their own died. Every time these Prophus had trusted and depended on her, she had failed them. Now, Io wanted her to bring these people to her home. What were the odds that the enemy was going to find them there?
“Io, it’s you! You’re the leak. You’re the traitor.”
“Are you all right, Ella?” Nabin asked. “Your face is white as Everest.”
Listen to me carefully if you want to survive. There is more–
Ella turned to the side and threw up.
Thirty-One
The Hunt
I was living an uneventful and peaceful life within a barmaid in Spain when the conflict within the Quasing erupted. Our kind split into two factions, the Prophus and the Genjix. The Genjix wished to escalate the Conflict Doctrine and push humanity in order to force rapid advancements in technology and culture. The Prophus felt the Quasing had already gone too far, that humanity could develop more quickly without being in a state of constant struggle. While the Genjix had always called humans their vessels, the Prophus saw them as hosts and felt their relationship should be more symbiotic than parasitic.
At the time, I declared for the Prophus partially because I believed in their philosophy, but also because constant war was dangerous for a Quasing. We are the most vulnerable when we change hosts. Also, in a shock to all, the Keeper, our leader, had chosen to side with the Prophus, the only one of the original Grand Council to do so.
In hindsight, my choice may have been a mistake.
* * *
Shura stepped onto the street and watched as their quarry escaped, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. Most of the casualties had been the incompetent Indian police. She walked back up the driveway and knelt by the bodies in the parking lot. These were Genjix operatives. Cameron Tan was every bit as good as he was reputed to be.
Fluid. Natural instincts. Good use of space.
“He has grown,” she murmured.
She had observed the Prophus’s flight from the third-story roof as Cameron’s team had fought off the police’s overwhelming numbers as they retreated to the
van. This was an elite unit, no doubt about it.
That is what happens when we contract with amateurs.
“We didn't have much choice. The country is still recovering from the war. Most of their veterans have been drafted into the military. The police are more used to kicking beggars around than dealing with a special ops team.”
Shura could have gotten involved and possibly altered the outcome of the ambush. It wouldn’t have been too difficult to rappel down and hit Cameron while he was occupied with the Genjix team. However, she would be without support. This wasn’t her show anymore, so why should she put herself at risk?
For the glory of the Holy Ones?
“There are other ways to achieve that.”
Rurik appeared a few minutes later, screaming at the policemen milling about. It seemed neither he nor Sabeen spoke Hindu. He turned to Shura, red-faced. “What happened? We had a hundred men. How did they escape?”
Shura kept her face neutral, but relished his manic inexperience. The ambush had been problematic from the start. Rurik had erred on the side of caution and held the units meant to cut off the enemy’s escape for too long. By the time they were ordered in to contain the exits, the enemy was already moving. Now, they would be forced to hunt them down.
She watched her words carefully. “Perhaps if you had brought more operatives instead of your personal retinue, the circumstances might have been different. Or if you had ordered your security detail to participate–”
“My detail stays with me,” he snarled. “I am the head of Russia, Shura. Never forget that. My protection is paramount. I am not expendable, like some lowly operative.”
Sabeen is forever overcautious and trying to compensate for his lack of combat experience. I should tell you about his time in General McClellan. The general was already a decorated Genjix officer before Sabeen joined with him. Sabeen somehow took a savvy military veteran and made him incompetent. The man sat on his ass for months doing nothing with one of the biggest Union armies while General Lee maneuvered circles around him.
“Weren't both Lee and McClellan Genjix operatives?”
Yes.
Shura chuckled. “Conflict breeds innovation.”
While Rurik had proven gifted in navigating the treacherous Russian political hierarchy, it came at a cost. Not all vessels and Quasing were experienced and skilled in all areas. Both he and his Holy One, Sabeen, severely lacked tactical experience. Outside his brief tenure during the American Civil War, the last time Sabeen had commanded a combat unit, it involved chariots.
In Rurik's case, he was too young to have fought in the Alien World War, so had spent the majority of the conflict financing the war and keeping the bombs dropping. It was an important role he excelled at, but hardly relevant to the ambush tonight. As an Adonis vessel, he had too much self-esteem to delegate the task to someone with more experience, especially someone who he considered a rival.
Shura turned to Surrett as he came running, huffing and puffing. “Station units with scanners at every airport, hospital, bus, and train station. Set up checkpoints on Highways 6, 228, and 170. Mobilize the coastguard and have them take position at the mouth of the gulf. Conduct a bed to bed search at every hospital. I know we hit at least one of them.”
We need more scanners.
“And get us more Penetra scanners, Minister.”
Local law enforcement is not equipped to deal with this situation.
“Get me real soldiers, not these fools,” Shura snapped. “Call in the Indian special forces.”
“But Adonis,” said Surrett, “calling in the military will raise questions.”
“You mean, get me real soldiers,” Rurik said. “You forget your place, Shura.”
Young Rurik is trying to make a name for himself on the operational and military side, so he is particularly sensitive to rank and protocol. It gives you no advantage to antagonize him on such small matters.
Shura looked deferentially to the young man. “Apologies. Your orders, Father?”
Rurik paused. “The airport and docks. Shut them down. Put out a warrant for their arrest. Five foreigners should not be too difficult to locate.”
“Shutting the airport down is problematic,” said Shura coolly. “A Penetra sweep should be sufficient. A coastal blockade is easier to enforce than searching through thousands of containers. A warrant will be ineffectual. There’s no need to drag in the judicial system. Working through the minister should be sufficient. Other than that, your orders will be carried out.”
No need for snark.
Rurik pulled up a map of the region. “Damn these incompetent Indian police. The Prophus could be anywhere.”
“They’re heading southwest toward Crate Town.”
“How do you know?”
She held up her tablet. “I ordered one of our operatives to plant a tracer on the vehicle when they arrived. Just in case.”
“Then why are you still standing here?” he raged.
Shura looked to the side as four police SUVs pulled up. “I took the liberty of calling them up as soon as the Prophus escaped into the van.” She spoke to the nearest officer. “Inspector, you’re with me.” She turned to Surrett. “Gather the rest of the police. Follow as soon as possible.”
Moments later, Shura led a train of police vehicles toward the slum. She had five Genjix agents and twenty police officers with her. She checked her tablet. The van had entered Crate Town and was heading toward the gulf. Did they have transportation awaiting them? How could they? According to Riseevar, the team had just arrived that day. Could they already have an escape plan in place?
The van was moving erratically once it entered the slum, making several odd turns and crisscrossing major streets as if it were trying to throw them off.
What are they doing?
She contacted Surrett. “Is the coastal blockade up yet?”
“Yes, Adonis,” he replied. “Three boats already on patrol were rerouted. Two more are en route, and six more have been activated. I’m on my way to Crate Town now with sixty police.”
That is not enough, but it will have to do for now. Send units to guard the south side of the Tapi River and a search party to Hazira Mangroves. If the Prophus evade the patrols northwest, then they are as good as lost.
The van came to a stop with Shura still five minutes behind. She instructed two of the vans to break off and head directly to the other main intersections. With a spot of luck, they could encircle the coverage of the Penetra scanners and pick up the vessels’ trail.
“Sirens off. Go in quiet,” she ordered.
Six minutes later, a swarm of police surrounded the abandoned van. It was too late, though. The Prophus were long gone, their tracks covered, and there wasn’t a blip on the Penetra scanner.
“Any signals?” she asked the other squads positioned nearby.
The responses all came back negative. Shura swore. How had they moved away so quickly?
They knew they were being followed and must have dropped off the two vessels at one of their sharp turns. That is the only way they could have escaped.
Shura studied the pitch black buildings of the slum. Crate Town was too large and dense, with too many places to hide. She did not have enough resources on hand to conduct a door-to-door search, especially at this hour.
Depending on what materials many of these buildings were made from, the scanners might not even be powerful enough to penetrate some of these walls. The equipment the police used for the ambush tonight wasn’t of the highest quality.
Cameron Tan had escaped. For now.
It is a safe bet they are hiding somewhere in this slum. Containment is now the priority.
“Where else could they be?” she murmured.
Check the home.
“Unlikely, but worth a shot.”
Shura contacted the minister again. “Pull all forces back and set up checkpoints at every street leading in and out of Crate Town. When police reinforcements arrive, spread them out until
they completely blockade the entire perimeter of the slum. None of them gets out. Take a squad and pay Ella Patel’s home a visit. Perhaps Riseevar left some clues regarding their whereabouts. Stay there until morning in case they return. When is the military arriving?”
“I’m working on it,” said Surrett. “Hopefully within a few days.”
“A few days is too late. I don’t care if you have to wake up the Chief of the Army Staff. Do it now. I want the military here by morning.”
“Yes, Adonis.”
Shura hung up the phone and signaled to the policeman wielding the scanner. “All right, pull back to the perimeter. We’re locking them in.”
Thirty-Two
Truths
The Genjix came down on the Prophus suddenly and mercilessly. History came to know the birth of our civil war as the Spanish Inquisition. Thousands of Prophus and their hosts were imprisoned, stripped of whatever rank and position they held.
Like most Prophus, I was not prepared for the onslaught. The Genjix leveraged their hosts’ superior numbers, political positions and wealth to openly hunt us down. This public outbreak of violence was unheard-of at the time. Our kind had always operated in the shadows. Now both factions used humanity as their pawns as they openly waged a war that rages to this day.
* * *
Wiry Madras did not seem happy to see Ella when she walked into her establishment. But then Madras never seemed happy to see any of her patrons. That was the one advantage of owning the best bath house and laundry cleaning service in all of Crate Town; you could be as mean as you wanted to your customers, and they all happily put up with it.
She was especially mean to all the girls who used to work for her, since she always offered them a pretty steep discount when they used her services. That was the thing about Wiry Madras. The old woman had a heart as big as her tiny body, even if most of it was as dark as her soul.