Web of Extinction (Zone War Book 3)

by John Conroe

  I would have told you that I had been swimming as hard as I could up until that moment, but I’d have been wrong. The sight of tons of industrial vehicle sinking toward me spurred me to a new level of frantic and the edge of the stacker’s clamp just brushed down my back as I kicked past it. Astrid was watching from just to the right of one of the massive ship propellers, watching me with eyes wide in fear. Something clipped my left shoe, yanking me backward, but then the shoe came off and I was free. Pressure in my chest was building for release, but I kept my mouth doggedly shut as my blonde warrior girl held out a hand to me. Slim, pale fingers clamped down on my brown hand and yanked me to her. She stared into my eyes, her expression almost frantic as she clutched me to her. Then we both kicked upward, moving toward the light overhead between the ship and the dock.

  Chapter 29

  Our heads came out of the water, both of us gasping for air, both of us trying to do so as quietly as possible. Overhead, the sounds of gunfire and crashing, smashing containers told a story of a continuing three-sided fight. The gap between ship and shore was shockingly narrow, maybe just a couple of meters, but we could see a little bit above us.

  We were under the cantilevered crane structure for the first dockside gantry, but it was bent at a crazy angle and didn’t appear to be still working. Farther up the dock, the second dock crane was just dropping a container onto the side of the cargo ship, the metal bomb bridging the gap between the vessel and the dock. Then something spun out from the ship and slammed into the crane, shaking the ship as debris rained down, some falling into the gap and down to the ocean around us.

  “We can’t go that way; the AIs are slugging it out,” Astrid said, spitting out a mouthful of water. “That way, behind us, has no cover. If anyone is still paying attention, we’ll be fish in a barrel.”

  I looked around for an idea, any idea. Something hit the water behind us, something big, making huge splash, and it hit farther out than the stacker had. My first thought was an actual car or truck, driven at speed off the dock. But when I ducked my head under the water and opened my eyes to look, nothing was sinking. Something big and orange was bobbing to the surface—something with a curving, enclosed boat shape to it.

  I lifted my head and turned to Astrid. “The lifeboat thingy is in the water. Whoever has the ship must have dropped it.”

  She looked at me for a split second. “They’re called free-fall lifeboats and they have diesel engines!” she said, immediately starting a strong forward crawl stroke toward the back of the ship. I followed and a few seconds later, we came around the ship’s stern and spotted the orange boat floating ten meters away. We wasted no time swimming for it, finding a set of ropes looped along the side of the boat which, up close, was quite a bit bigger than I thought it would be. Grabbing the rope loops, we pulled up to the side passenger door, which Astrid got open with a little effort. She climbed in and I hauled myself in behind her. The boat was catamaran styled and the inside had a built-in bench with passenger safety straps running all along the walls. Astrid was already in the driver’s seat and she got the engine started on the first try.

  She smiled at me triumphantly until the fiberglass top and side splintered apart under a barrage of e-mag rounds. She pushed the throttle forward and drove the lifeboat toward the cargo ship as fast as it would go, veering to the left to get on the ocean side, putting the entire bulk of the ship between us and the shooters.

  With a moment to breathe, I started to take stock. I still had my pistol with a partial magazine in it and a full spare. There were waterproof containers carefully stored around the interior of the lifeboat and when I screwed the top off the biggest one, I found four big handheld aerial signal flares and a bright yellow UHF radio. The batteries were good and as soon as I turned the emergency radio on, I heard a familiar voice. “AJ… Astrid Johnson… come in,” it said in mechanical tones that I would recognize anywhere.

  “Rikki?”

  “Affirmative. Be advised dockside facilities are not safe. Elements of both hostile human combatants and Plum Blossom-controlled assets are still active and currently engaged in conflict. In addition, NYPD officers have surrounded the container facility, but are unable to enter due to ongoing hostilities. Recommend you head twenty-one degrees north for seven hundred meters minimum before seeking shore. Acknowledge.”

  “Affirmative, Rikki Tikki. We are proceeding in the direction you have indicated,” I said, exchanging a glance with Astrid, who just nodded before looking at the big compass mounted among her controls.

  “Be advised that Zone Defense IRSF aircraft are inbound to attempt recovery. Strongly advise against seeking aid from those forces. Probability of compromised personnel is over eighty percent. Instead, dock emergency vessel at fifth wharf north of container facility. Suitable transport will be awaiting you. Acknowledge.”

  I keyed the mike. “Affirmative.”

  The radio stayed silent, Rikki being an AI of few words, so instead I turned to my driver who, even wearing dripping water and running makeup, could still take my breath away. “So all hell is breaking loose.”

  “I thought it did that earlier. But the conspiracy ship is sinking, and the biggest rats are finally trying to plug the holes,” she said.

  I looked around and spotted water bubbling up in a few places where the highly energetic e-mag rounds had punched all the way through the tough little boat. “Do you absolutely have to use sinking ship references?”

  She looked where I was looking and snorted. “We’re fine. Take more than a few little holes to sink this thing. We’re almost there; look,” she said, pointing out the little cockpit window.

  I looked. We were passing the third wharf and I could see the fifth one coming into view up ahead. Unlike the other four, which were very industrial looking in a nautical shipping kind of way, this one was flat and park-like. So park-like that after a few seconds of looking at it, I realized it was, in fact, part of the Brooklyn Bridge Park.

  We got closer and closer, Astrid steering us into the nearest docking berth. Sudden motion on the shoreline caught my eye. A massive metal vehicle came roaring around the path and onto the quay. Low-slung and armored, it had eight big wheels, was painted all black, and sported a squared-off housing on its roof that I happened to know contained a remotely operated GE M-134 minigun.

  “Is that…” I asked.

  “Ours? Yeah. How it got here, I have no idea,” she replied, pulling the lifeboat up to the wharf like she’d been doing it all her life. I grabbed the side of the wharf while she killed the engine and stepped out onto the concrete dock. She tied up the boat and then I jumped to the dock beside her.

  Chapter 30

  We hadn’t more than stepped onto the quay when I heard the squeal of tires back at the shoreline somewhere behind us. “Run!” I yelled to Astrid. She didn’t hesitate, just bolted straight ahead, racing for the safety of her family’s armored vehicle.

  She ran up the rear cargo ramp, her brother JJ standing in the opening, waving us in. I was just behind her but took a second to glance over my shoulder. Two more black SUVs were racing around from the front of the massive warehouse on the next wharf over, heading for the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Then I was ducking into the LAV, JJ clapping me on the shoulder as he hit the control to raise the ramp.

  By the time I got fully into the vehicle, Astrid was already sliding into the driver’s seat just recently vacated by her father. Martin was seated at the operator’s station for the Zaman sensor suite, the wall in front of him filled with screens. “Incoming hostiles,” he reported as Lt. Colonel Brad Johnson, Retired, stepped up behind him. “Do I activate the Ping?” Martin asked.

  “Here in the city? No way,” Brad said with the brusque voice I was so familiar with. “But you can warm up the Finya.”

  “Should I load tear gas?” JJ asked, moving past me toward his brother and father. Brad glanced at him but instead noticed me standing there.

  “Take a seat, Ajaya, and strap in. This wil
l get bumpy,” Brad said in an even tone.

  “Moving,” Astrid said from up front and instantly put the big vehicle into motion. Had I not sat down at Brad’s words, I’m fairly certain I would have fallen right off my feet at the sudden lurch of the vehicle.

  JJ and his father barely noticed, both counterbalancing automatically, like sailors on a rough sea.

  “Two large-model SUVs coming fast. Thermal indicates five bodies in the first, six in the second,” Martin reported.

  “Load four Sad-Eyes and two Warm Welcomes,” Brad told JJ, who instantly moved forward. He opened a panel in the ceiling, then pulled down a large boxy metal container. Squatting down to work, his body automatically rocked with the motion of the LAV as his sister twisted and turned the big vehicle through city streets. From another, lower compartment, he pulled out four stubby 37mm grenades, then two more from a separate compartment. Carefully placing each inside the metal container, he then stood up and replaced it in the ceiling before shutting the panel.

  “Finya loaded, four tear gas and two flashbangs,” he reported.

  “Dad, where do I go?” Astrid asked loudly from the front.

  Brad studied one of the displays in front of Martin for a moment. “Head south and make for one of the northbound on-ramps to I-278,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the big electric motors. “Martin, keep me informed. JJ, see to Ajaya. I’ve got some calls to make,” he said, taking seat at the commander’s station and putting on a headset.

  JJ came over and checked my safety harness, then sat next to me and handed me a headset from the wall. “How ya doing, Ajaya?” he asked, speaking through his own wireless headset. The vehicle was pretty loud and the headset made conversing a lot easier.

  I glanced around the interior, seeing Brad now talking to someone via his headset, Astrid navigating the streets of Brooklyn in an armed LAV, and Martin monitoring our pursuers from his station.

  “Fine, I guess, all things considered. Little hairy there for a bit, though. How is it that you all just happened to be here, now, with this?” I asked, tapping the metal bench of the vehicle.

  He shrugged. “We got a call from your friend Harper yesterday. I answered it and I didn’t think it was her, not at first. But she told me stuff about you that only someone who really knows you would know. So then I put her on speaker with Dad. She said she thought it would be a really, really good idea if we were in the city today with our favorite ride. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she felt like something was brewing among the people she’d been tracking, the ones who ultimately caused the original drone attack. We had quite a conversation. She’s really smart, you know.”

  “I do know, firsthand. So she only had a hunch, yet she never warned me?”

  “She said that if she warned you every time she thinks things are bad, you’d either never get anything done or you’d label her as the girl who cried wolf.”

  “But she felt it was a big enough threat to have you move the LAV down here to the city?” I asked.

  He smiled. “That’s the thing. See, we were already planning to bring the old war wagon down to get some work done. Dad’s been putting it off, but we decided a week ago that it had to get done before, you know, everything goes to shit. Anyway, she knew we were coming down, at least to Connecticut, where our heavy fabricator guy is. So she told us we should maybe test drive the old girl here in Brooklyn, today. Then about an hour ago, she came right into our communications suite and told us you two were in real trouble.”

  “So she hacked your personal computers to get your schedules, called you, and talked you into some kind of standby status, then busted into your vehicle’s secure communication network to tell you it was going down?” I asked.

  “Exactly. Pretty cool, huh?” he asked, clearly impressed.

  “Not shocking at all. You haven’t met her yet, have you?”

  “No. But I really want to. Will you introduce me?” he asked, looking just a tiny bit uncertain. Guy was a national heartthrob and here he was nervous about Harper. “Sure,” I said, feeling a tiny twinge of something.

  “Cool,” he said, sitting back and smiling.

  I sat back as well, analyzing that little burst of emotion I had felt. Jealousy? Not really—I was with Astrid, the person I’ve wanted to be with all my life. But it felt a little like jealousy. Or was it envy? Perhaps that was it. Harper was an amazing person, so smart and extremely loyal to the very few people she called friend. But it was more complicated than that. It was a tiny bit of misgiving too, like maybe I should be careful introducing JJ, who had had a lot of girlfriends, to Harper, who hadn’t had a single boyfriend. Yeah, something like that, maybe mixed with envy that JJ might have a shot. The vehicle rocked hard to one side and I rolled with it, tight in my harness. But Harper was extraordinarily smart, extremely wary, and not very trusting. She could handle herself, even with a womanizer like JJ. Hell, she was way, way smarter than he was, and when I thought about it honestly, he wasn’t truly a real womanizer, not really. Women threw themselves into his path and he dated some of them. But none of them had lasted. Beyond that, he was a pretty good guy who always treated me decently, as opposed to Martin, who’d been a douche most of the time I had known him. Martin had been better in the last few months, but I wasn’t going to spend any time hanging out with the guy. On the other hand, I could see having a beer with JJ.

  “SUVs are closing the distance.” Martin’s voice came through the headset. Ah, open team channel. Hadn’t known that. Glad I didn’t say anything wrong, like something about Martin being an asshat.

  “Be advised there are additional vehicles operated by employees of Calvin Shussman setting up at a construction site ahead of your current path of travel,” a new voice suddenly said over the LAV system. Martin, Brad, and JJ all turned to me, questions on their faces.

  “Thank you, Rikki. Can you provide updates as we get closer, or insights from their communications?”

  “Of course, AJ.”

  “Rikki saved us back at the container terminal,” Astrid said over the comm. Actually, I think he took out the sniper using the Redhawks but I wasn’t sure of that and didn’t want to dwell on what it would mean if he had. At least not yet. And I sure wasn’t going to announce it to the Johnsons.

  “Well, if they think four or five dinky cars are going to stop us, then they’re idiots,” Martin said.

  “AJ, based upon orders from Calvin Shussman, who is apparently in one of the two SUVs behind you, the rules of engagement are not to fire directly upon the LAV, at least until the Johnsons fire upon them first.”

  “Rikki, are any news drones in the area?” I asked.

  “Hundreds. The fight at the docks has been reported by citizens two hundred fourteen times in the last hour and counting. Every major news agency has multiple UAVs searching for signs of the conflict or chase.”

  “Rikki, what is the probability that Shussman wants this LAV to open fire on his forces first?”

  “Close to ninety-nine percent.”

  “Trying to control public opinion before word gets out that he is one of the architects of the drone attack,” Brad said. “Make us out to be the rogues endangering the public. I’ve spoken to the mayor and police commissioner. They are both facing crazy pressure from federal sources to not interfere in this attack, despite it being all-out warfare in the streets of the city.”

  “Are they going to cave, Dad?” Astrid asked.

  “I don’t see how they can,” he said. “Too many eyes are watching armed men running around with military weapons trying to kill Ajaya and you. Plus, I’ve contacted Trinity. We still have cameras mounted on board. They went live five minutes ago.”

  Now I was really glad I hadn’t said anything off-key. We were suddenly a live episode of Zone War: Part Two.

  Brad suddenly touched his headphones, listening to someone else. Then he turned back my way. “So they just attacked you at the cruise ship ceremony?” he asked.

  Yup, the show was
running.

  “Yeah. First they got our security team called away,” I said, recognizing a production cue when I heard one. “They’ve got people high in the military who outrank local Zone Defense. Then a sniper started shooting at the cruise security team and the NYPD cops on hand. Killed them outright. We fled, egressed to the container yard. I think Rikki placed a copy of himself inside the container ship AI, which was still active for some reason, and Plum Blossom took over the dockside system. They fought each other and Shussman’s people while we concentrated on getting away. Then you picked us up. Shussman tried to get me to give myself up. I think he wants me to leverage Harper, who has real evidence against him.”

  “Last-ditch effort,” Brad said. “Might even have worked.”

  “Nah, he doesn’t know Harper. She’d never negotiate with him. I think she would have released everything immediately. In fact, I still think she might,” I said. “Not sure what she would still be waiting on?”

  “Maybe a full audience?” JJ asked, turning and pointing to a camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

  “AJ, you are rapidly approaching a convergence point with the hostile teams. Be advised that based upon communications I have intercepted, at least one team waiting for you is equipped with anti-armor weapons,” Rikki suddenly interjected. “Additionally, they are positioning heavy construction equipment and concrete barriers to contain your vehicle.”

  “Do you have access to a video feed?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  The largest monitor on Martin’s panel suddenly changed to a live feed from a news drone, a reporter speaking on air to her anchors in the local station. Martin turned around, eyes wide, hands moving away from his controls to show it was nothing he had done.

  “Lindsey, according to our sources, security forces from Zeus Global are attempting to stop the fugitives responsible for attacking police and cruise line personnel—Ajaya Gurung and the entire Team Johnson family,” the onsite reporter said.