by Jim Roberts
"Copy that sir, they just popped in on our radar as well." The captain's voice was calm, despite probably being as stumped as Walsh at how Olympus had spotted them. "What are your orders, Colonel?"
"Bring anti-aircraft autocannon batteries online, ready flares."
"Copy that Colonel."
The lights in the command cabin of the Barbarian immediately tinted a warning red color, signaling immediate danger to the aircraft.
"Alright folks, everyone to their stations, we have incoming!" Walsh's authoritative voice broke through over the hubbub. "Olympus found a way to break through the stealth tech of this aircraft, but we're gonna make them sorry they found us!"
The Barbarian was different then nearly all C-17's before it. One way being it was armed with weaponry similar to the AC-130 Spectre Gunship. On the port side of the aircraft was a pylon mounted with a 20mm autocannon, and below that, connected to the Barbarian's hull was a 40mm Bofurs cannon.
But this was all window dressing.
Walsh knew it was Hyperion VTOLs that Olympus was sending. There would be no way they could outmaneuver them in this massive bucket. His eyes drifted towards the large safe built into the bulkhead behind Yune's empty desk.
The Code had to be protected. No matter what.
Walsh rushed up the stairway to the flight deck. He had to pause for a moment. Another damn fit of coughing. Finally, he reached the door to the cockpit, pounding on it. The co-pilot, a veteran stealth pilot Walsh knew as AyJay, let the Colonel inside.
"What's our situation?" Walsh asked, finally breathing steadily.
"I'm trying to bring us about to engage with the weapon systems sir, but these aircraft are too maneuverable. Every move we make is anticipated. They know our weapon systems and how to avoid them."
They were Hyperions, all right.
"Head due south. If we can get over the border to South Africa, they won't follow."
The pilot, an older man than AyJay, was a CIA pro, who all on the plane knew as Captain Stevens. A Texan with typical bluster, the man piloted the aircraft with over twenty years of experience. It had been a coup for Walsh to secure him as the chief pilot of the Barbarian.
"It's no good Colonel." Captain Stevens said, watching the telemetry system. "They'll be on us way before then."
A blast of thermal energy rocketed past the front of the aircraft.
"Jesus Christ!" AyJay swore.
"Taking evasive maneuvers, hold on!" Stevens hauled back on the controls, forcing the Barbarian into a powerful climb.
Walsh almost toppled backwards out of the cockpit, managing to grab hold of a safety handle for use by flight personnel during turbulence.
"They're firing again, Colonel!"
Several more bolts of thermal energy pulsed across the cockpit window.
Suddenly the entire aircraft jolted violently. This time, Walsh indeed fell out of the cockpit, crashing into the meeting table in the flight deck beyond. The entire aircraft dipped violently to the left, as if its entire center of balance had gone askew. Walsh felt an immediate feeling of near weightlessness as the C-17 plummeted an untold amount of feet. Then, as the aircraft normalised its descent, he was pounded down into the floor by the entire weight of gravity itself.
The captain shouted from the cockpit, "We've lost the numbers one and two engines! Compensating now!"
They'd been hit. Walsh hauled himself up and back into the cockpit. He saw below them the still burning ruin of Hatfield as the aircraft began to rapidly descend.
"I can't keep her in the air!" Captain Stevens wrestled with the controls, trying to keep the airplane on track. "We're not going to make South Africa!"
"Aim for the corn fields south of Sadoma! Can you make it?"
Stevens pulled hard on the controls. "I...I think so!" He spoke quickly into his headset. "This is the captain speaking. We've been hit and have lost two of our engines. We're making an emergency landing. All crew, get into emergency positions now!"
Walsh's heart was pounding.
Joe!
The Colonel barrelled out of the cockpit and down the shaking stairs into the intelligence section of the craft. The techs were strapping themselves into the folding seats on both sides of the craft. It wasn't much, but it was all they had.
Atkinson, who was strapped in near the bottom of the stairway, called up at Walsh. "Colonel, what are you doing? You need to get strapped in!"
"I have to tell Braddock what's happened!" Walsh rushed past towards the communications unit. He keyed in the frequency for Joe's comlink.
"Sergeant Braddock−Joe come in, over?"
No answer. The aircraft was beginning to shake violently.
"Damn it, anyone on this frequency, come in now!"
Atkinson undid his safety strap and rushed to help the Colonel. "Sorry Colonel, the frequencies were changed over the last hour."
The young tech made an adjustment to the system. "Try now!
"Joe come in, this is Walsh, over?"
"This is Joe, I read you, over!"
"Joe, the Barbarian's been shot down! Repeat, we are going down! Making an emergency landing due south of the Sadoma city border. Get here as soon as you can, repeat as soo..."
In a heart stopping second, the entire plane was rocked by a massive jolt. Everyone screamed.
Just before the force of the landing rendered him unconscious, the Colonel had time to entertain a single thought that broke into his head.
They had been betrayed.
* * *
FALCO WATCHED the massive transport aircraft plummet down from the sky like a wounded albatross. Sitting from the RIO seat directly behind the lead Hyperion pilot, he had a front row view to the victory at hand. Smoke and flame spewed from the dual port engine's of the C-17.
Falco smirked as he witnessed the attack unfold. It marvelled the old Olympus vet that such a massive machine, which was obviously equipped with the most advanced stealth equipment possible, could be so easily tracked with just a simple direct heat signature code.
He tossed the small device Titus had given him against the dash. He had to hand it to the young lord this time. Even if the plane did crash and happen to explode, Falco knew that the Code would be kept somewhere secure, probably a heavy duty safe. And even at that, the Code was nearly indestructible. Once the plane crashed, they would simply sift through the remains at their leisure.
Falco watched the crippled bird descend. He saw the landing gear lower, as well as the flaps. The Hyperion pilot in front of him had informed Falco that the C-17s utilized a blown flap system that allowed for steep, low-speed final approaches. A powered-lift system focused the engine exhaust flow directly below and through slotted flaps to give the aircraft stronger lifting force. This would allow the C-17 to handle the rough landing better and bring the aircraft down in decent shape.
But not in too good shape, Falco told himself. The fewer people alive on board when they landed to search, the less his men would have to personally deal with.
With a brilliant shudder, the transport jet hit the dark ground below. Falco watched in fascination via the Hyperion's infrared HUD as the C-17 skidded brutally across the rough terrain. He saw the entire aft section and tail split off and break away as the aircraft snapped inwards on itself.
The spectacle of the crash was breathtaking. Falco smiled to himself as he watched the remains of the Peacemaker jet rumble to a stop amidst the corn field, showering pieces of debris across the area. He contacted the other Hyperions in the battle wing.
"All ships prepare to land. All survivors of the crash are to be eliminated. There can be no mistakes this time...we must retrieve the Code."
The VTOLs began to descend, like buzzards preparing to feed.
Chapter 30
A Rush of Blood to the Brain
The Capitol Building, Sadoma, Zimbala
"Christ in heaven."
Brick's statement echoed the feelings of everyone in the room, upon hearing the news of the Barbarian cr
ashing outside of the city.
As if the last twenty minutes hadn't already been nerve wracking enough.
On the floor, in the middle of the office space, was the dead body of David Musabe. Joe's shot had caught the dictator square in the brain stem, killing him before he knew he was dead. The man's nerveless fingers had allowed Sarah to slip away without a shot fired. The reporter had rushed over to Brick, who now held the shaken reporter tight in his arms.
"Shh. You're alright, girl."
Krieger cast a worried glance down the hall towards the stairway. "Not for long, comrades. We still have company on its way."
"We need to get to the Colonel." Joe exclaimed, turning his rifle to the side to slam a fresh magazine in.
"How are we going to get down from here?" Jade asked.
"Not the way we came." Joe answered, looking around the office. There were no exits other than the elevator and the stairway. He turned and looked at the perpendicular glass skylight.
An insane idea popped into the Ranger's head. He ran up to the right angle glass window and peered outside into the Olympus encampment below. It was a sheer drop at a straight ninety degree angle to where−if Joe remembered the camp layout from the OpTab−Olympus's motorcade was located.
"I have a plan and you guys are probably not going to like it."
Suddenly, the staircase door at the far end of the President's office exploded off its hinges. Everyone turned, weapons raised.
But it wasn't the army of Centurions, as Joe was expecting.
Instead, a gigantic obsidian-black armored soldier exited the staircase−a wicked red katana blade held firmly in his hand. In his other was the motionless, decapitated body of an Olympus Centurion.
Prometheus.
"So much for our Centurion friends." Krieger remarked, hefting his M60E3.
A booming voice filled the office; cold and ethereal, "Target Anders, Sarah. Found."
Joe shot a look towards the reporter. The young woman's face was a mask of fear. Why did it want her so badly? The obsidian cyborg dropped the dead Centurion to the ground with a wet *thunk* and advanced on the Peacemakers, weapon at the ready.
Joe had to act. He unsafetied the M203 underslung beneath his carbine and aimed at the hulking cyborg. "Everyone get down!" He shouted.
Brick pulled Sarah down roughly behind the President's desk. Jade and Krieger dropped down where they stood.
Joe fired.
The incendiary round hit the super soldier perfectly in the center mass. The entire floor shook from the explosive shockwave. Joe saw Prometheus propelled back against the far side of the office; dropping into a smoking heap on the marbled floor.
From what Joe had heard about this machine, there was little chance that would hold him for long. Joe made up his mind. He turned and fired at the perpendicular glass window with his M4A1, blowing out several window panes. The glass was amazingly thick, but it couldn't stand up to armor piercing bullets. After emptying his magazine into the window, he ran up and smashed the glass with his boot, breaking it apart utterly.
"Everyone out the window!"
"You're insane!" Jade shouted.
"He isn't gonna stay down forever! If you have a better plan, I'm all ears!"
The four soldiers, with Sarah between them, rushed over to the broken window and peered down. It was a stomach churning drop.
"Well, I ain't living forever!" Joe took several deep breaths before hurling himself towards the open window.
What happened next, Joe would never forget. He landed on the sharp slant of windows below and began to slide down the side of the Capitol building. Behind him, he heard the Russian cry out something in his own language before leaping after him. Joe was soon moving too fast to hear or see much else. His equipment bounced and rattled against the Plexiglas as he slid down the sheer angle all the way to the bottom. A very foresighted architect had had the wonderful idea to install a sort of raised barrier, about one foot high at the very bottom. Joe slammed into it at full force.
One after another, Krieger, Brick and Sarah landed against the guardrail. Jade came down last. Joe saw her go astray, her arc of descent pulling her towards the side of the sheer perpendicular drop. Joe yanked his body up and dove to the side just as the rebel lieutenant was about to fall. He threw out his hand and caught her by the wrist. Jade's lower body slid down over the side, pulling Joe with her. He felt a pair of hands grasp him by the ankle, keeping him from being pulled over as well. From where they were it was still a solid twenty foot drop to the pavement below. With all his might, he hauled Jade back onto the glass skylight. Joe looked down at his feet and saw Brick, holding on tight.
"Thanks for the save, old man." Joe said, managing a smile.
"Don't count your lives yet, Braddock." Brick wheezed. The SAS soldier heaved with all of his might and pulled Joe and the URAF rebel back onto the plexiglass.
The triumph of their escape was short-lived. Several Centurions in the courtyard below had spotted the Peacemakers during their suicide slide down and were rushing forward, weapons raised to fire.
Joe hazarded a glance over the side of the guardrail.
His heart leapt when he saw the motorcade was indeed directly below them, just as he'd thought. There were several Humvees' parked together, but Joe wasn't looking at those.
He was looking at the massive obsidian tank.
There were three parked side by side, exactly the same as the one they'd seen just outside the compound. Directly to the opposite edge of the guardrail was a small ladder, probably for window washers. It lead directly down into the makeshift motorcade below. Joe ordered everybody to head towards it. He covered them, firing at the Centurions lining up to take pot-shots at the targets high above. Joe felt a rifle bullet sing by his ear, missing by a fraction of an inch.
He saw Brick go down the ladder last. Below him, more Centurions were joining the turkey shoot.
As usual for Joe Braddock, he was running out of time.
* * *
OCTAVIA GRADUALLY pulled herself up, having regained consciousness after the violent assault by Prometheus. She didn't know how long she'd been out cold. Her throat ached miserably and she could barely find the strength to stand. The vague sound of gunfire was coming from the compound beyond.
Where was Prometheus?
She looked at the elevator. The cyborg had completely destroyed the control panel. Cursing to herself, she rushed over to the staircase and pushed the door open. She had to somehow find Titus and warn him about Prometheus.
As she moved into the stairwell, she stopped. The entire staircase was filled with the bodies of Centurions−butchered by a sharp weapon. Blood and entrails were smeared all over the enclosed area.
Revolted, Octavia made her way down, her nose wrinkling at the acrid smell of what she guessed was some sort of incendiary. When she reached the first floor, she saw it was completely blocked. The door had been blasted off its hinges and the ceiling above had crashed down, blocking the way with chunks of plaster and cement. Her only other option was to go down one more floor. The basement underneath lead directly outside into the converted motorcade. From there, she could find someone, anyone to put her back in touch with Titus and try to stop Prometheus before the super soldier could wreak any more havoc.
She just prayed she would be able to find Titus before Prometheus found him.
* * *
JOE WINCED as a Centurion's bullet ricocheted off the cement embankment he was perched on. Directly below him, in the motorcade, Brick, Jade and Krieger were trying to hold off the growing Centurion presence that was beginning to surround them. Joe could count at least twenty of the crimson clad armored troopers firing upon their positions.
If he stayed here any longer, he'd be a bullet pincushion.
Hell with it!
Joe threw himself over the foot high guardrail and dropped down.
Twenty feet.
He hit the asphalt hard. Braddock felt a stinging pain in his left leg, and
he fell on his side. Jade rushed over to his side, firing her AK at the encroaching Centurions. The troopers moved with single-minded efficiency, keeping the pressure on the team, while moving closer. Joe judged they had less than a minute before they were overwhelmed.
Jade hauled Joe to his feet. He made a quick check of the area. There was a steel door that lead back inside the Capitol building, as well as a loading dock for receiving shipments. The three tanks were parked single file, seemingly ready to move out at a moment's notice.
"What do we do, Joe? Cannot hold forever!" Krieger shouted over the pounding rage of his M60E3, firing for all it was worth.
Joe pointed at the nearest tank. "Everyone get in this thing! We're riding it out of here!"
With no time for questions, Brick covered Krieger as the Russian hoisted himself up onto the tank. Brick tossed a smoke grenade towards the Centurions, which quickly began spewing a thick white cloud into the courtyard.
Krieger yanked the hatch open and disappeared inside the tank. Brick dashed over, covering Sarah Anders with his body and hoisted himself onto the tank, pulling the reporter after him. Joe saw a patch of scarlet soaking the Brit's left arm where he'd taken a round during the tumult. Sarah dropped inside the tank, followed immediately after by the wounded SAS man.
Lastly, Joe helped Jade onto the tank skirt. A bullet zinged wildly off the thick armor of the vehicle; a mere fraction of an inch from the rebel's woman's leg.
"Hurry! Get inside!" Joe hollered.
Jade was about to reach down to help Joe up when she suddenly pointed towards the direction of the steel door. "Braddock, behind you!"
Joe swiveled around. There was someone standing at the door. The smoke from Brick's grenade was wafting into the motorcade, obscuring his vision. The figure at the door raised its arm.
Joe didn't hesitate.
He fired a burst from his M4. He saw the collection of 5.56mm slugs perforate the tango and drop him back inside the building.
Not wishing to see who else would be following them, Joe grabbed Jade's hand and pulled himself up onto the tank. The URAF rebel disappeared inside the machine. Joe followed, wincing at the pain in his leg. He half climbed, half fell into the operator compartment. Brick reached up and closed the hatch. Krieger was already sitting at the controls, trying to find the ignition. Outside, Joe could hear the shouting of Centurions.