Alien Research

by Gini Koch

  “That’s them, I hit Kozlow in the arm. Lieutenant, when you get your stomach back under control, get to the hangar and let our people know that we have the fugitives in sight and are pursuing.”

  Put Bruno down. He still seemed wilted from the heat—wondered if whatever the Poof Traps were made of affected the Peregrines negatively too, because I wouldn’t have expected any being from Alpha Four to have issues with heat. Cold yes, but not heat. Gave him a pat. “Make sure he gets to everyone safely and wait for orders, you need to recover.”

  Bruno squawked and bobbed his head. He’d get Mr. Weak Stomach to safety and remain on guard. We left Pierce happily puking under Bruno’s watchful eye, and took off on our new course.

  Could still see our targets in the distance, and we were gaining on them. “Why are they running at regular speeds?”

  “They’re not,” Christopher said. “Good to see all the training’s starting to pay off—you’re seeing human and hyperspeed without trying or realizing you’re switching back and forth.”

  “Oh. Go me. You’re a good coach.”

  “Yes, you are,” Mahin agreed.

  “Helps to have good students,” Christopher said.

  “The love on the base is making me as sick as that lieutenant we left,” Jeff said. “Where the hell are they going? And why? If it were me, I’d be trying to get to a gate.”

  “James locked them down,” Christopher said. “No one can get through without his authorization right now.”

  “They may or may not know that. But my bet is they’re heading for the Cuban side, because Chernobog’s there, somewhere.” Was about to ask Christopher if he was able to go to Flash levels when both the why and the where of what our quarries were going to was answered.

  A low-flying “Little Bird” helicopter—the kind that looked like sleek, black bubbles holding some serious firepower while also being incredibly maneuverable—came over the horizon. It didn’t take genius to realize that Ronaldo and what was left of his gang were headed for it.

  It also didn’t take genius to figure out where all the weapons this particular chopper had—and it had a lot—were aimed. They were aimed at us.

  CHAPTER 72

  “WE CAN’T LET THEM get into that chopper!”

  “We also can’t let it shoot its missiles,” Jeff said. “It has Stingers and Hellfires on it. With those they can blow up the base and kill everyone here.”

  “I’m more concerned with the guns,” Christopher said. “Since those can kill all of us without blowing us up.”

  So much of what was going on was explained. Pity none of us were going to have time to let Chuckie and Reader know that all the disparate crap was connected, at least not until Guantanamo was under attack.

  We were a good two miles away from where we’d been, near a grouping of tan buildings clearly designed to blend in with the ground when viewed from above, surrounded by chain link fencing with barbed wire wrapped all around it. There were guard shacks at each corner, outside the fencing.

  There was a lot of dirt around—Mahin wouldn’t need to worry about having her version of ammunition. There was a decent amount of foliage a little ways away. Close enough that you could see it from this area but far enough to be too far if you were locked up inside and guards were in the shacks.

  Unfortunately, the foliage was much closer to the people we were chasing than to us, and there was no way we would want to get into what looked like a detention compound because that would make us even better targets than we already were.

  “Scatter!” Jeff shouted, as he dragged me down and away from a spray of the bullets Christopher was correct to be worried about.

  Christopher dropped the bag of Poof Traps as he grabbed Mahin and pulled her the opposite way. As bullets ripped through the duffel, the traps rolled onto the ground. I didn’t remember any of us closing them, but closed they were, all round balls of weird, shiny, mesh, like alien whiffle balls.

  “All Poofs, spread out and go to Chuckie and James and Richard and the rest of our team! Protect them and the rest of the good people. And protect yourselves, too!” My purse felt lighter, which was good.

  “Stop being the crazy Poof lady and keep moving,” Jeff said, as he pulled me to my feet and zipped us around in a serpentine pattern.

  “How can they see us to shoot? We’re moving at hyperspeed.” Looked up at the helicopter—there was more than one person in it. “One of them has to be an A-C or a hybrid.”

  “This detail helps us how?” Jeff asked as we just barely kept ahead of the bullets, which sprayed into the dirt.

  Mahin had her hands out and a dirt devil quickly formed. Fortunately Christopher tackled her right before the bullets ripped into her. The dirt devil collapsed back onto the ground.

  Looked back at the chopper in time to see them aiming in such a way that they’d hit both me and Jeff. Pulled out of Jeff’s grasp and shoved him away. The bullets just missed him.

  I tumbled backward so they missed me, too. I landed on the Poof Traps. Always the way. Mahin was trying to get a dirt tornado going, meaning that she was the recipient of most of the chopper’s firepower. It was clear that she needed to be able to concentrate to get said tornado going, and unsurprisingly, the people she’d recently been aligned with knew this. Christopher was spending his time pulling her to safety, meaning neither one of them was effective and both were targets.

  Grabbed one of the Poof Traps and threw it as hard as I could at the helicopter, mostly out of frustrated rage but also because, well, you never knew what might work.

  To my complete surprise, not only did the trap hit the helicopter, but it dinged it. An idea formed, but I couldn’t do it myself. “Mahin, Christopher! We need fastballs, and we need them now!”

  Christopher ran over, grabbed a couple of the traps, and threw them with impressive accuracy and speed. The helicopter was definitely being affected. We both tossed a couple more, then had to scatter again, as they fired at us again.

  Mahin joined us as we regrouped and Christopher sent several into the chopper, one of which cracked its windshield. The pilot had been coming closer to us, but pulled up now to get out of range.

  “How long do you need to get a dirt tornado going?”

  “Longer than they’re giving me,” she said as we threw a couple of traps and then had to run. “Once I really get it going I can hold it as long as I’m conscious, but getting enough dirt going to really create enough mass takes—” Whatever she was going to say was cut short by both of us having to leap in opposite directions to avoid bullets.

  “They’re covered with dirt,” I said as we regrouped and I tossed her a couple traps. “See if you can work with them.”

  “But . . .” She looked uncertain. “I don’t know what these are made of, but I don’t think I can move them.”

  “And you’ll never know unless you try,” Christopher snapped. “Stop making excuses for what you can’t do and focus on what you can. You control the earth. So, control it. Focus on the dirt.” He threw another trap and hit again, though the chopper was getting out of range, at least for us to hit it. It wasn’t so far away that whatever it was shooting at us wasn’t going to hurt or kill.

  “He has a point. And while necessity is indeed the mother of invention, I’ve always found panic to be the father of ability. And it’s good to honor both father and mother.”

  Speaking of honoring my mother, I had a gun on me, and it was high damn time to use it. Dug it out of my purse as I ran in the serpentine pattern we were currently all so fond of because it was keeping us alive.

  Jeff hadn’t joined us at the pitching range—he’d chosen to go after the people we were still trying to catch. They in turn were emboldened by having their snazzy escape vehicle here and shooting at us, so they’d turned and were attacking him. The only positive on this was that the helicopter wasn’t shooting at Jeff because he was embroiled with the three of them.

  Only, it wasn’t really three of them.


  I’d seen Android Gladys fight. The real Gladys either had none of the moves her android had, or else she was so damn good that she looked like she was attacking Jeff while actually hitting Kozlow and Ronaldo. I voted for the latter.

  The good thing was that Jeff seemed to be doing well in this fight so far, and the others didn’t appear to have caught on that Gladys was hitting them instead of Jeff yet. The bad thing was that my gun was useless—there was no way I could be sure I wouldn’t shoot Jeff.

  The helicopter wasn’t close enough that I thought my shots would have a good enough effect and I didn’t have an unlimited number of clips with me. Better to conserve the bullets for when they wouldn’t be wasted for sure. For once remembered to set the safety, shoved the gun into the back of my pants, and contemplated my options while I did a rolling leap to get away from another burst of bullets.

  Christopher was running out of Poof Traps to throw, which was bad because whoever was in the chopper had figured that out and was shooting both to hit and keep Christopher back from where the traps had landed.

  “Mahin,” I shouted, “if you can’t use your powers to toss them, use your powers to bring them back.”

  Didn’t stop to wait to see if she could manage it. Decided instead to gather some up and toss them from another angle. They were fairly easy to spot, because of how they caught the sunlight. They weren’t easy to get to, though, because of bullets and the wind being created by the helicopter blades. The only saving grace was that I was in jeans instead of a ripped dress. Otherwise, this was causing me some nostalgia for the end of Operation Drug Addict.

  The chopper’s pilot had noted we were pretty much out of our impromptu ammo, and he started lowering toward us again. This created a hell of a lot of wind and therefore even more dirt and dust were flying up.

  “Get down!” Mahin shouted. She wasn’t up to Jeff’s bellowing ability, but she wasn’t bad. She was also creating a dust devil, thanks to the assist the chopper was providing.

  This version of dirt tornado sparkled here and there—Mahin had figured out how to move the Poof Traps, and they were swirling up and around within the tornado.

  CHAPTER 73

  CHRISTOPHER WAS BEHIND MAHIN. I could tell he was ready to grab her to get her out of the way of bullets.

  But bullets weren’t coming at us right now, because the pilot was having trouble with the dirt, and when the Poof Traps hit into it, they continued to cause the chopper problems.

  I was under the chopper and contemplated if getting out of the way would be a smart idea. Entertained the notion of jumping up and trying to climb into the cockpit. But before I could either run away or give jumping a shot, someone ran past me and did it first.

  Had to give it to Ronaldo, he had the A-C jumping ability. He grabbed a hold of one of the chopper’s skids and hung on. He was just low enough for me to reach, and there was no way I was letting him get away. Jumped up and grabbed his legs.

  This meant two people were hanging off of one skid while a tornado of dirt filled with alien-made Poof Traps was hitting the chopper. Of course, this meant the dirt and traps were hitting me and Ronaldo, too. Missed having my parachute outfit on but otherwise chose not to care. He had something of mine and I wasn’t letting him get away with them.

  “Let go, you lunatic!” he shouted at me. “You’ll bring this down on top of us.”

  “Where are my Poofs you giant prick?” Clawed at his pants pockets, but didn’t feel anything. Couldn’t safely reach his sweat jacket, though. Decided it was time to start climbing up his body.

  Ronaldo didn’t care for this at all, at least if I took his cursing at me to be a clue. His thrashing about was also an issue, so while I was inching up, it wasn’t anything like climbing up a rope.

  Just as I reached his waist, and therefore could grab at the pockets of his sweat jacket, I took a Poof Trap to the back that timed out with Ronaldo flailing his legs just right and I lost my grip. Didn’t have too far to fall, but someone broke my landing anyway.

  However the someone wasn’t Jeff. It was Gladys.

  We scrambled to our feet and Gladys dragged me off a ways, so we weren’t under the chopper any more. It was wobbling but didn’t have my weight pulling it down any more, and the pilot seemed to be getting the chopper under control. He was trying to get higher up into the air, but the dirt storm was still working and he had to focus more on actually staying in the air as opposed to getting to a better position.

  “Get everyone out of here,” Gladys shouted. “I’ll handle my little brother.”

  “I can shoot him. He has my Poofs. Let me rephrase. I can, and will, shoot him.”

  She waved my Glock at me. “Not any more, kiddo. Jeffrey has Kozlow, and he’s who you’ll need the most.” She looked at Mahin. “One saved for one lost. Not the trade I would have chosen, but still, worthwhile in its own right.”

  “I won’t kill him. I know we need to take Ronaldo alive. He has answers. We need the people in the chopper, too. I just want to, um, hurt them a lot. And I want my Poofs back.”

  Gladys shook her head. “This ends now. The safety of the many outweighs the need for information of the few.” She shoved her cell phone into my purse. “There’s something in there I’d like you to see later on.”

  “Gladys, what—?”

  She smiled at me. “You’ve been a pain in the ass from day one, but you were also just what we needed. Keep on recruiting, you’re almost as good at that as you are in finding trouble. I’m glad I got to work an op with you, kiddo. So stay out of this so I don’t have to shoot you in the leg. I have unfinished business.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get that asshole out of my head, and everyone else’s heads, too. Permanently.”

  With that she turned and ran and, despite her size, jumped up and caught Ronaldo’s feet.

  Unlike me, she seemed to have no issues climbing up Ronaldo’s body. She was on his back, legs wrapped around his waist, one arm around his neck, in a short period of time. Her gun hand was free. She put the gun to Ronaldo’s head.

  He reached into his pocket and tossed something on the ground. Two somethings. Two Poof Traps.

  Ran and got them. Harlie and Poofikins were inside. I got out of the way of the chopper, then ripped the traps open. The Poofs jumped into my arms. They were both trembling.

  Told to stay on the ground or not, Ronaldo was going to pay. Looked back up at the chopper. It was a lot higher in the air than it had been. And Gladys was now standing on top of Ronaldo, balanced on him and the skid. She grabbed the person who’d been shooting at us and flung him out of the chopper, grabbing his gun as he went down. I was hella impressed.

  Ran over to the guy who’d just had his own fight with Gravity. He was definitely an A-C or a hybrid, because he was getting to his feet. Couldn’t have that. Sent a roundhouse kick into the side of his head.

  He spun and went down, but he got up again. Definitely an A-C, that kick had been one of my best.

  Poofikins growled and went Jeff-sized. The guy I was fighting screamed like a little girl, turned, and ran. Poofikins caught him, easily. In its giant jaws filled with lots of giant teeth.

  Apparently my Poof wasn’t into the idea of eating this guy, though. Instead. Poofikins and its prisoner bounded over to where Jeff was. Poofikins spat the latest prisoner out of its mouth, then stood on top of him and Kozlow both, growling. Jeff patted it.

  Looked up again. Gladys was in the cockpit and she hauled Ronaldo inside. Had a moment’s worry—what if she’d been under the mind control after all? Heard Mahin scream and turned to see her Poof go large and toothy. Fluffball grabbed her gently in its mouth and raced over to Jeff, who was, as I looked around and actually thought about it, the farthest away from the chopper. Toby, Christopher’s Poof, did the same with him.

  Harlie went large and in charge. “Hang on, Harlie, I don’t need to be carried yet.” I ran over to the others, because it was clear the Poofs want
ed us together.

  Shockingly, the surprise of her Poof going giant-sized and seeming to want to eat her had thrown off Mahin’s earthbending groove, and the dirt tornado collapsed. The helicopter rose up higher and adjusted itself, wobbling a bit, but not so much that it wasn’t going to be able to send a missile into our little group.

  And that was definitely the intention, because the chopper turned so it was pointing weapons at us again. While Christopher explained Poof Protocol to Mahin, the three Poofs that weren’t on Prisoner Detainment Duty surrounded us. Didn’t think this was necessarily the right plan. “Is it maybe time to run away?”

  As I said this we saw blood splatter hit the inside of the helicopter’s windshield along with a lot of bullet holes. The chopper started to spin out of control. Heard more gunfire and saw flames. Gladys must have hit the fuel tanks, on purpose presumably.

  Waited for Gladys to jump out or try to control the chopper, too fast A-C reflexes or not. But she didn’t do either.

  Could see her in the chopper’s open doorway—she had Ronaldo in a headlock. She looked at me and smiled. Then she shot him in the head. Twice. She dropped his body onto the floor and, because of the way the chopper was spinning, it slid out of view. The flames were getting larger.

  “Come on!” I screamed. “Jump out!” Tried to get out of the Poof Huddle, but they wouldn’t let me. They were protecting us, but also keeping us away. Realized Gladys must have given them a request before she’d rescued Harlie and Poofikins.

  “Get down,” Jeff bellowed. “It’s going to crash!” He pulled me down, and Christopher did the same with Mahin.

  But I got out of Jeff’s hold and back up again. The second to last thing I saw was Gladys saluting me with my Glock. Then the helicopter crashed into the nearby buildings and exploded.

  CHAPTER 74

  I DIDN’T HAVE TIME to react before Mahin had shoved Christopher off of her and was standing next to me, palms up and out. Just as she’d done in the desert, a dirt wall formed between us and the explosion. And as before, it fell onto the explosion, smothering the flames.