by Hanna, K. T.
“What is it?” she asks as she reaches the door.
Bastian’s expression is grim. “They’ve recalled more Damascus than we realized. About a dozen additional patrols. Regardless of whether or not they’re aware of exactly what we’re doing, they know we’re doing something.”
“How did they get here so fast?” Dom’s tone is hard, and there’s a shadow bleeding into his eyes. Sai moves to his side and squeezes his little finger. The shadows flee.
She clears her throat. “Where are they sending them?”
“The first ones have just arrived in PC 3.”
“How many?” Sai calculates, trying to remember who it is she has in PC 3.
“Six. They’ve sent six patrols.”
“Including Hounds?” It’s hard not to let the numbers overwhelm their instructions. “Argyle. That’s Argyle and James’ area. They can’t handle that many. They’ve only got three divisions and two psionics. Can you send over a few dominos to help them retreat without too much difficulty?”
Evan nods at her, and his eyes whir through a myriad of colors, a signal he’s communicating. Sai gulps in breath and leans into Dom as he absentmindedly rubs her shoulders. “You’re doing fine, Sai. You know their abilities better than they do.”
“I only hope they realize that. You know how stubborn they can get. I’d be screwed if they were in Tyrell’s retinue. He wouldn’t listen to me if his life depended on it.” And she’s only half-kidding.
“Well, since it does, let’s hope he listens.”
“Two has another batch of Damascus entering it. These are close formation, too. They’re not going in one patrol at a time.” Dael’s eyes unfocus, swirling through a plethora of blues so complex it’s pretty. “Better hope Tyrell is ready to listen.”
Sai grimaces. “Mason is with Tyrell. Isn’t Joe there, too? Tell him to temper them. They should be okay for maybe four patrols? Make sure they’re tuned in for when the pulse goes off. With that many more patrols, the signal is guaranteed to spread.” She takes a breath to stop the flow of panic in the pit of her stomach. It’s like the bile of nausea trying to overwhelm her, as the darkness threatens to creep into her vision.
Dael frowns. “I can have three teams of reserves over there inside of two hours. They should be good to go.”
“Do it. And if you have another team or two, send them to Argyle. I can’t be sure he’ll listen to my instructions if he has anyone else breathing down his neck. They might need a little more brawn. Send them with the order to stay in hiding and not seek out a fight.”
She turns to Bastian, trying to gather her thoughts, get some coherency into her brain. The panic keeps trying to rise, and with it, the parasite—forever knocking at her brain, trying to take control.
Just as she’s about to check on their progress, she hears a commotion from the hall. Heavy footfalls echo, and the sound of a scuffle drifts back as well. She grabs her crossbow from the desk, hefting it in her hand as she runs to the door.
Only to have Aishke yank her to the side as a crossbow bolt flies through the air where Sai’s head had been a split second before.
“Watch it, Sai! It’s a Damascus patrol!”
“Right. Thanks.” Sai nods to her friend, suddenly very glad she let the girl talk her into coming with them.
Mind racing, Sai seeks out Dom. He acknowledges the look and grabs Dael and Tarla, pulling them into the shadows so they can’t be seen. This patrol is probably checking up on the lack of signal from the ones stationed with Bastian.
At first glance around the corner, she can see three of their own team down. She wracks her brain for their names but draws a blank. Sort of like the pale expression on Darrien’s face.
“Take Ash and circle around, Darrien.” Sai barks the order out, and Darrien snaps to with a nod. Aishke leaves her side with a slight glare in Sai’s direction.
“Bastian, do you have enough energy to disable this lieutenant?” Sai knows she’s reaching, but there’s little other choice.
He nods and moves toward the doors. “I’ll need a distraction.”
“Got it.” And she does the only thing she can think of—phases into the fray.
Dom pushes down the instinct to run to Sai’s assistance as he spies Bastian standing just inside the door. With two of the soldiers down, he’d been about to concentrate on the lieutenant, but changes tactic.
Sai phases to the other end of the corridor, and the lieutenant tracks her visually. Dom can feel Bastian’s unique power signature as it releases, and he moves toward one of the two remaining soldiers as the lieutenant makes a grating screech and its head topples to the ground.
With the lieutenant taken care of, Dom levels a sharpened hand around the protective plating of the soldier’s neck. His aim is true, and his hand slides neatly under to sever the power and control wires. Its lights flicker out, transfixing Dom for a second.
When he turns around, he notices the other one has been taken care of, and Sai is standing in front of him, an odd expression on her face. Her focus is intense, and he wonders if she’s trying to ignore the two wounded team members that Aishke is helping drag into the lab.
“Fighting it off again?” She whispers the words so even he can barely hear it.
He shakes his head. “Not this time. I was just thinking.”
The expression on her face tells him she doesn’t believe a word he says, but will leave it for now. He’s grateful for that.
“Dom?” Dael is at his elbow as he walks back into the lab. Their expression is sad.
“What is it?” Dom asks, dreading the response.
“PC 3 is down. Argyle is dead, still unsure on James. My reinforcements are reporting we have four of the six dominos originally stationed with them down as well. Four of the patrols, however, are gone.”
“Survivors?” All Dom can think about is how Sai will take this blow. At least there’s still hope for James. Maybe.
“Four of the eighteen are still alive. Troops hadn’t moved in yet.”
“Report to Mason and Tyrell. Make sure they’re aware of the loss and warier because of it.”
“Already done.” Dael melds away so easily it feels like the whole conversation was in Dom’s head.
He glances at Sai. This is not going to be easy. They look up as he approaches. “We’ve lost PC 3. Few survivors.”
Sai pales, and Bastian’s irritation switches to concern.
“Any word at all from Kayde? We can’t stay here. We have to move.”
“Is James dead?” Sai’s tone sounds sort of hollow.
“We don’t know yet.”
She shakes her head, and he can see the tension in her back. “I knew when Argyle went down. I felt it. I’ve worked with all of them at some point, but I can’t feel James. We’re going to lose more at this rate.”
Sai checks her stock of weapons, knives in place, crossbow secured in the small of her back. She reaches up a hand and presses her com device. “Are you ready yet?”
Dom strains to hear Kayde’s answer. “No, but we’re close enough.”
“Close enough isn’t good enough. We’re sitting ducks here. Timeline?” Sai’s orders are snapped, and Dom thinks he missed something in her conversation with Bastian because she’s testier than usual. Or it could be the deaths. More of them. Too many of them.
There’s a crackle over the communication line, and Kayde finally answers. “Move out. He’ll get it within the hour.”
Sai disengages the communicator and grins. The expression is a grim one, and Dom can already see the lines starting to gather around her eyes. She’s about to speak when the sirens whirr once again. It took them a little longer than Dom anticipated.
“Perfect timing,” she mutters, glancing at Bastian. “Will you be good to go?”
Bastian nods, and they move to the door.
Dom’s gaze sweeps around the area. It was risky waiting it out. They’ve been here for too long. Several more dominos are in the general area. Looks
like they’re going to have to go with what they have. “Let’s hope they’re not expecting this much resistance. We have time to buy.”
“Dom!”
He turns to see Owen hurrying toward him. “Yes?”
He’s winded when he arrives and takes several seconds to regain his breath. “When Mathur sets this off, anyone in the vicinity of a lieutenant will need to take cover. You’ll need to communicate it. Tell people.”
Dom blinks. “Why are you only telling me this now?”
Owen opens his mouth, shuts it again, and shrugs. “I have a lot of things to juggle. Sorry.”
“Why do they need to take cover?” While he suspects it, Dom wants confirmation.
“When I said it’d permanently disable the Damascus, I meant it. After all—if they blow apart, they can’t actually ever function again, correct?”
“Got it. Don’t be in the way of a lieutenant when the pulse goes off.” He turns to Dael. “Can you get Evan to get that back to Alpha so they can spread it to everyone else?”
They grin. “Easily.”
Dom watches Dael go and feels something brush his side. Warm and familiar, Sai stands next to him, jaw set with grim determination.
“Are you ready for this?” he asks her.
She looks up at him, a strange, somber pinch to her expression. “I’m never ready for people to lose their lives, Dom.”
“The plan is to make it through here, where we have it on good authority that we’ll have a few patrols to contend with.” Bastian pauses. “And then we’ll head directly for the battle room.”
“How do we know they’ll be there?” Owen is fidgeting. “The meeting ended hours ago.”
Bastian smiles at the man. “Because it’s the first place she’ll summon them.”
Dom butts in. “Are you feeling all right, Owen?”
The small man laughs, but it’s tinged with a bit of hysteria. “I’m okay. I will be okay. Until now, this was all only in my head. It’s a little unnerving when it’s real.”
Bastian nods and Dom is about to comment when Sai’s voice echoes down the hall.
“Incoming!”
There’s a pause, followed by another simple phrase.
“One full.”
Dom scans over the people he has available to him in one look as he moves up to work with Sai. Bastian remains back with Darrien and Dael, partitioning off a safe area for Evan to work on communications and so Owen doesn’t have to fight.
There are a couple more human soldiers he can’t recall the names of—if he even learned them—but it’s the medieval-named dominos that have him concerned. Tarla and Ivin haven’t had heavy combat experience, and they flank Sai and Dom as the patrol nears them. They’re to take out the Hound first and worry about any other soldiers after that.
“Ready?” Sai’s voice shakes slightly, and she grips his fingers once briefly.
The lieutenant stands behind his row of soldiers, a redlined vision and his height all that distinguish him. Even the Hound pauses with them. It’s like a standoff. A line is drawn.
Time slows to a crawl, and then a guttural sound emanates from the Hound. A low keen echoes through the concrete halls of death and sends a strange ringing in Dom’s ears.
And then it pounces into action, a split second before the rest of its patrol.
As Tarla moves up to intercept the Hound, Dom can see Sai coating herself in thick psionic shield, making her upper body as strong as her lower. He blends himself quickly and moves to take on the lieutenant while keeping an eye on the remaining fighters in the field.
Dael takes a sharp hit to their jaw that sends them reeling and leaves Bastian alone with two soldiers, while Ivin steps in to help Sai with two of her own. Dael shakes their head and is back at Bastian’s side in a split second, blocking a punch that could have been fatal.
Sai moves in a flurry of attacks, her kicks aiming for their one weakness.
But Dom has to pull his attention away from that fight and concentrate on his own. Unlike his previous encounters, this time he doesn’t have the upper hand without his camo. The lieutenant keeps shifting, like he can see him, which diminishes the advantage Dom was hoping for. It can probably sense that an adrium being is close.
With quick and deft movements, he shifts his form to lethal mode and sharpens his arms and legs, bleeding back into sight in a way that tends to confuse most sensors.
The lieutenant moves quickly to the side, scanning around several times. It makes a couple of odd clicking noises, and the soldier with Sai turns its head toward the lieutenant in a fluke of timing that lets Sai kick directly under the plating and sever its necks wires. Only her foot gets caught in them, and she goes down.
Dom doesn’t have time to help her. The lieutenant swings dangerously close and misses. Lighter on their feet and far more adaptable, the leader of the patrol bends its knee joints. “Fight fair,” it screeches, with overtones that sound surprisingly human.
Dom can’t help a chuckle and moves quickly out from where the sound emanates, only to watch the lieutenant swing and miss. And then it dawns on him. The lieutenant is scanning for noise. For sound. Where the sound angles off incorrectly is where he aims for. It’s compensating by echolocation. A plan solidifies in Dom’s mind and he goes into hunting mode.
The parasite inches forward, but Dom downs a small vial of Kayde’s concoction and creeps in for the kill.
Adjusting his camouflage, he syncs himself and sets himself to phase. It’s a dangerous tactic, but if he can disorient the lieutenant enough…
The hulking Damascus lunges at him, but every time, Dom is long gone, a short burst of energy taking him ten feet down the hall. One of the hits is a little close for comfort, and its arm barely misses him. He changes tactic and makes the angles more obtuse.
Just when he’s about to change his tactic again, he’s finally at the lieutenant’s back. With a quick jab of his left hand, honed like a crowbar to leverage the protective plating, he reaches in swiftly with the knifelike right hand and severs the wires.
The huge metal heap falls to the ground, the adrium solidifying with no electricity to guide it. He turns around. Mere minutes have passed, but he balks at the scene in front of him. Tarla is helping Bastian and Dael with the remaining soldier near them, but Sai is standing in front of Ivin, a scowl on her face. At her feet, the domino bleeds black adrium blood from a deep gash in his side.
One of the soldiers who attacked them is dead, but the other still maintains good use of one side of its body. Its damaged arm is wrapped around its head plating, and thus Sai’s only clear shot is impossible.
Dom phases in one short burst to land directly behind the now lieutenant-less soldier and reaches out. With one vicious twist, he rips its head off.
Sai sags against the wall, kneeling quickly to tend to Ivin. “Thanks, Dom.”
He nods as he watches her, glancing over to where the final soldier has been taken care of. “Patch him up and leave him here with Tarla and the other two. They’ll be fine down here until this is over.”
Bastian joins them, sporting a new shallow cut on his hand. “We need to get to the battle room before they figure out what we’re doing. Owen is bringing his tablet to see how many signals he can jam.”
The door to the battle room towers higher than usual. It resembles the masonry evident on Bastian’s own, except the psionics reinforcing it are far weaker. The human guards outside take one look at them and lower their weapons, raising their hands.
Bastian smiles at them as Dael and Aishke relieve them of their weapons. “Good choice.”
Dom can see Sai let out a breath of relief. Her aversion to conflict never far, despite their situation. He switches his vision, trying to find a weak point in the doors. “The center. It’s weak and barely reinforced. Hammer it or blow it apart.”
Bastian raises his eyebrows in Dom’s direction. “Can’t you just kick it?”
Dom frowns, adjusting his estimation. If he aimed a compou
nded kick just above the door handles, it should weaken the locking mechanism. “No. I need to be ready. I’m not sure what’s on the other side.”
Bastian shrugs. “Aishke, I need your help.”
The younger girl’s shoulders shake, and though she’s still pale from her recovery, she walks to his side.
“I need you to focus, close your eyes, palm just above the lock.” Bastian’s tone is kind, and the tension visibly drains from the girl’s shoulders. “Gather all the force you can spare and shove it right through. Push it away, instead of pulling it toward you.”
She bites her lip and then nods. “Got it.”
“On three.” Bastian and Aishke take a deep breath. “One. Two. Three.”
Concrete splinters in a rush of force. The vacuum created tugs around Dom’s body and sends Sai’s ponytail fluttering around her head. In the aftermath, the doors hang loosely from their hinges, segments catapulted into the room beyond. Fragments have devastated several tables, but apart from some scrapes, it seems the people inside are mostly not the worse for wear.
Deign appears much smaller than Dom remembers. Perhaps it’s because she seems shocked to see them all on her doorstep, in her domain. Zach is even paler than his boss, his eyes skittering wildly.
Sai leans in and touches Bastian’s hand, bringing him back to earth, and Dom watches the few in the meeting room scatter to the back. Except Markus, who stands straight and inclines his head in Dom’s direction. The man looks more tired than Dom has ever seen him.
“It’s good to see you, Deign.” Dom smiles thinly. Bastian’s anger is palpable, permeating the room even through his hefty shielding. “Bastian has some things to tell you.”
Dom moves to the side to let Bastian take the floor. Dael and Evan keep lookout and open lines of communication. It took them a little over forty minutes to fight their way up here. It’s all winding down now. Soon it’ll all be over.
Bastian sways a little, but Dom doesn’t think it’s because he’s tired. Nope. That’s definitely anger kept in check far too long. A small wave rolls toward Dom, an odd shimmer surrounding his friend sort of like a heatwave in the lethal sun.