No one moved.
“I hate you guys,” Dinx said in a hoarse pitch.
The door chimed open to a smoke-filled corridor. No one waited for her to tell them to get out; they scrambled in a panic.
Emil sat in his chair, senseless. Minsk and Cob, the only members of the bridge crew still alive, were quiet.
“Engines back online,” Tullia reported over the speaker.
He didn’t hear her.
The Chief relayed the update, “Sir, engines are working. Sir? We must go.”
Emil looked at him, then Cob. “Helm, get us under the Leviathan’s belly as close as you can and stay there.”
“Sir?”
“Get us under her keel.”
Cob thought the old man had lost his mind, but did as ordered, piloting the Bandit to point-blank range under the larger ship’s hull.
“Sir, are you crazy?”
“Trust me. At this distance, Serov can’t scan for us.”
Minsk, never one to pray, made a quick crucifix over his chest for good measure. “Ebat’ kopat’.”
The two vessels danced as the Bandit drafted the other in a daring stunt to evade detection. To the young helmsman’s credit, they stayed exactly two meters from the opposing ship.
With the fires on the Leviathan’s bridge extinguished, damage control teams labored to shore stress fractures and repair busted electronics. As the dead were dragged off, replacement officers took over.
“Where is the Bandit?” Serov snapped.
“There are no contacts.”
“Impossible. Check again.”
The lidar officer performed another scan. “Confirmed, sir. No contacts.”
He pushed the woman out of the chair and ran another sweep himself. The only bleeps detectable were the fiery wrecks of the Pantera and Akula spread across the waters of the bay.
“Impossible,” he repeated. “There is nowhere for him to hide.”
“Steady as she goes,” Emil whispered — as if speaking a decibel higher would attract Serov’s ears.
The abrupt squeal of an environmental alarm rattled the three men.
Minsk read the data. “Coolant leak in reactor.”
“Engineering, report. Engine room, come in!”
“Sir?” Tullia sounded in bad shape.
“We’re coming to get you out.”
“Don’t. We’re... dead already... ”
The comm channel turned to static.
The Chief ran a bio-scan. “They are gone.”
Emil damned himself. How many more must die?
His fears shifted to Marta.
“Sir, reactor containment failing.”
His attention returned to the situation at hand. “How long?”
“Minutes.”
How many more have to die?
He surveyed what was left of his crew — his family. Their faces told him the answer.
No one else is going to die today.
“Chief, on my mark, transfer guidance and command functions to my chair. Then you two get to a lifeboat.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me. Just do it.”
Minsk hesitated, but against his better judgment nodded confirmation of the order and entered the commands into the computer. Emil activated the backup helm control feature on his chair and awaited the switchover.
“Grigori, Anton, it’s been a pleasure.”
“No, the pleasure has been ours, General.”
Cob couldn’t say goodbye. He lost composure and lowered his chin. Emil reached for him, but the young man refused the gesture. He did so not out of hurt, but from lack of courage. The Haiduc didn’t press him. He smiled, letting Cob know everything would be okay.
The Russian didn’t say farewell. There was no need for such sensitivity. To properly honor his comrade, he readied himself to fulfill the final order.
“Chief, transfer controls on my mark. Three — two — one — mark.”
The switchover caused the Bandit to shimmy and she scraped the Leviathan’s hull. With her position compromised, Serov’s ship broke free, leaving her exposed.
Inside the cramped interior of the lifeboat, the only survivors latched themselves into tall shock chairs. Minsk paused to observe the clear number of empty seats. Except for Cob, every man and woman he had served with for the last fifteen years was now dead. To compound the shame, he was also abandoning his commander to the same fate. The impulse to disobey orders and return to his post on the bridge was strong, but he was a good soldier and stayed the course.
Opening the switch cover, he initiated the jettison sequence. There was a series of loud pops, then the sensation of freefall. Seconds later, deployed chutes dampened the steep plunge.
He reclined his head against the cushion and received the silence as the boat coasted on the winds.
The reactor core verged on implosion and there wasn’t time to pilot the ship far enough away from the city.
He thought about Marta, Nadiya, and the life he never shared with them. A dream where the three of them strolled along a worn footpath over green rolling hills became reality in his imagination.
He walked hand in hand with Nadiya. She was exactly as she had been the last day he saw her alive. In fact, he too was as youthful as when they were lovers. Bringing her close to him, she rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart. The scent of jasmine caressed his senses.
Marta was there, as a child of six — skipping, laughing, and chasing after butterflies. He watched her dance carefree in the sunlight and it made him happy.
Zoe and the kids braved the inferno, searching for an exit. Through dogged effort, they made it down seven levels without a more reliable map to go on other than Dinx’s memory.
Max cradled Marta in his arms. Her eyes were open, but her mind was elsewhere.
Grown and radiant, she went to her father’s side. He put his arm around her and together they watched her childhood incarnation chase after colored wings.
“I know what you’re doing. Please, don’t. I can save you.”
He recognized she was real and not a figment of his dying regrets. “Are you here?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Puzzled, he answered the only way he knew how. “I have to end this war.”
“You don’t have to. Please, live — with me?”
“He cannot, Marta,” Nadiya spoke. “His fate was written long ago.”
Emil and Marta beheld her. The beautiful woman caressed her daughter’s face. Like a wish fulfilled, Marta jumped in her mother’s waiting embrace.
“You’re here with us,” she said, overjoyed. “Are you creating this?”
“No, we all are with our desires.”
Emil felt a living woman, not an illusion. He kissed her with a lifetime’s postponed devotion.
“Am I dead?”
“Not yet, my love.”
“Marta —," he started to ask.
“No,” she promised him. “She’s alive.”
“Father, let me save you.”
Forgetting he was in a flight of fancy, her appeal baffled him. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you do. Don’t I matter?”
Her accusation upset him. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet, how could he explain the tragedies of his past? How, long before her birth, he had set himself on this course? It was one fashioned by his obsession, leading to only one inevitable conclusion.
He wanted to hold her, but she rejected his offer. “I’m not important to you.”
“Please, do not be angry with him. His love for you is undeniable. Can you feel it?”
Marta could feel something, but it didn’t bring comfort. “Yes.”
“What he does today will alter humanity’s destiny for years to come. When he transcends, he will come to me and we will be reunited.”
“What about me? I want to be with both of you.”
“No, this is not your time. Do not fret
. The day will come when we will again see one another.”
“Why —"
“No more why, child. You will go back. It is how it must be.”
As Nadiya departed from them, Emil saw the joy in her smile. Her bliss fueled his bravery. Watching her essence transition to ether, he came to understand the story. His beloved — mother of his child — was the influence behind everything that had transpired. It was her love that made possible his deliverance.
The darkness fighting to revisit his soul could no longer scare him; for he knew it would be short-lived. Her reward waited for him.
He was back on the bridge of his ship where warning lights flashed and alarms whined. He flipped a switch and the distractions ceased. At the tactical station, the Lidar screen showed the Leviathan rounding for an attack.
He steered the Bandit into a sharp curve, angling the view of the Spire in the front portal. The facility burned like a bonfire.
Emil sent out one last tender goodbye to the girl listening to his thoughts. With the coordinates locked in the guidance computer, the engines roared. Crippled as she was and shaking apart at the seams, the old bird flew straight.
Exiting out onto the observation deck, the fresh air seeped into their lungs and spurred uncontrollable coughing. They didn’t have the stamina to keep going.
Dinx couldn’t believe their terrible luck. “What? We’re not on the ground?”
Looking over the ledge confirmed they were still more than a hundred meters up. Zoe removed the tel-link from her belt to use it, but when she saw the broken screen, she tossed the useless thing aside.
“We’re trapped,” he whined.
“No, we’re not.” She grabbed the parachute pack left earlier by the entrance and dumped the canopy on the deck. Struggling to lay the material with her one good arm, she told Dinx, “Help me with this.”
“Are you psyching? Can’t we find another way down?”
“We’d never make it. This is our only chance. So, stop flapping your mouth and help me.”
Fumbling with the chute, the kid was more of a hindrance than actual help. While they worked on the transportation, Max tended to Marta. She could stand on her own, but her body shivered from fatigue. Snuggling the robe provided some renewal.
A beam of sunlight peeked through the storm clouds in strands of faded silver, highlighting the battle over the harbor. Hearing Emil’s farewell, she buried her face in the robe’s harsh fabric and wept.
“Max, take this and put it on.” Zoe tossed the larger pack to him, keeping the reserve chute for herself.
He examined it. To him it could have been a bag of dirty clothes. “I don’t know how to use this.”
“It’s easy. Put it on. When you pull the ripcord, make sure you’re holding on to her tight.”
“What about me?” Dinx begged.
“Don’t worry, champ, you’re with me.”
Serov could not fathom the image of the Bandit on a collision course with his ship. What should have been his triumph turned to astonished horror. There was no chance to avoid or deflect. With his last act, he became a desperate animal, bolting for survival. There was no concern for crew, country, or a greater cause. He wanted to live — to Hell with everyone else.
Engaging the engines at maximum burn destabilized the reactor core quicker and brought containment to the brink.
“Please, just a few more seconds,” Emil prayed. “I just need a few more seconds.”
He stared onward so he could enjoy the reckoning. “Die, ticalosule.”
The Crimson Bandit disappeared inside the larger ship. Milliseconds later, an atomic burst obliterated what remained of the spiraling hatred of two men, sending a shockwave rippling through the city. Blown out windows released another deluge of deadly debris. Towers structurally unsteady from the battle came crashing down.
The quake bombarded the brittle Spire shaft, tilting it off its vertical alignment.
Marta tumbled over the railing. In a flash of base instinct, Max leapt after her. Zoe didn’t see what he had done until she looked up to see his boot treads vanish over the side.
He dove fast and caught up. Clutching her tightly, they flipped head over heels. As he clawed at the pack’s rigging, the surface of the Earth ballooned under them.
Yanking the handle, the chute deployed. Despite the deceleration, they continued to fall fast, sailing uncomfortably close to an outcropping of vertical arrays.
He tugged on the shrouds. “How the muck do you steer this thing?”
A providential updraft lifted them away from the antennas and toward the pedestrian bridge at a sharp angle. They hit the ground and rolled over each other until coming to a stop near the walkway’s midpoint. By coincidence, she ended on top of him with the parachute partially draping both of them. The danger was over, but their hearts pounded without letup.
“You okay?” he asked.
A desire assailed her and she kissed him. Surprised by her own boldness, she pulled back.
Max accepted it in stride. “Wow. This is the second time I’ve been on my back with you on top of me.”
The immersion with the Spire showed her a world of infinite passions, none of which she had ever experienced before her ascension. The inundation overrode her self-control, encouraging carnal impulses. She kissed him again.
She wasn’t the same girl anymore. He couldn’t quite explain why, but the connection between them was different.
Zoe and Dinx landed nearby. A quick release of the tandem freed her passenger. He immediately doubled at the waist and vomited caramelized bile. Ditching the reserve harness, she knelt beside him and rubbed his back.
The chute fluttered, exposing the intimacy. Zoe’s jaw dropped. Marta noticed the audience and stopped. Embarrassed, she pried her lips from Max’s and hid her face on his chest.
“That figures,” Dinx said. “I save the day and he gets the girl.”
Max flashed a grin to his mother, who in return, couldn’t resist laughing. He was indeed his father’s son.
He got up with Marta’s help and they hobbled over to the unsung champion. Using her sleeve to wipe away the smidgen of vomit from his mouth, she tilted Dinx’s head to the side and kissed his cheek.
He blushed. “Well, you know I can’t take all the credit. I did have help.”
“You’re my hero,” Max joked.
Zoe joined the circle, hugging the kids.
“Is it over?” Max wondered.
“I think so,” she answered.
Their hopeful jubilation was cut short when a terrible noise erupted behind them. They turned back to witness the Spire break mid-shaft and collapse atop the burning island. The upper portion splashed flat into the water, generating an enormous wave that rumbled straight for them.
There was no calls to run; no one had to tell their feet to move. They ran, pumping their exhausted arms and legs. The wave’s chain reaction demolished consecutive sections of the bridge, rocketing large chunks over their heads. The group made it to the city’s edge just as the wave slammed the pier, washing them and the busted remnants of the Spire ashore. They were carried more than a block before the current subsided.
Laying on his back, Dinx gurgled and coughed out a mouthful of the dirty saltwater. “I can’t take any more of this crap!”
Zoe sat up. “Me too.” She looked over to Max, who was still protecting Marta. “You two okay?”
He nodded. “Is your life always this much fun?”
“Not usually,” she said while wringing water from her hair. “Most nights I just read a book.”
The trampling of hundreds of feet announced the arrival of the overdue cavalry. The sopping heroes didn’t stand; they didn’t feel like moving. The Colonel and Tank approached, disbelieving the handiwork of the short woman and her three accomplices.
“I — I’m here,” the giant stuttered. “I brought help.”
“What took you so long?” she teased. “Skylarking as always?”
“What? Do yo
u have any idea what I’ve been through tonight?”
“What you been through?” Max shouted.
A celebration ensued, one well-earned by both hardened veterans and rookies alike. Lacking libations, the brigends made due with banter and laughter.
Not in a festive mood, Zoe excused herself and ambled to the pier, leaving the others to mingle and commemorate their campaign without her. At the waterfront, she watched the flames consume Governors Island. The waning adrenaline highlighted the throbbing of her broken arm. She pressed the appendage close to her side.
Max walked over.
She didn’t look at him. “It’s been quite a night.”
“Eh. I’ve had worse.” He crossed his arms. “So, what now?”
“We rebuild.”
“No. I mean you and me.”
Good question, she wanted to say. “That’s up to you.”
He didn’t comment, instead he quietly tapped a piece of concrete with the tip of his boot. “I guess the mission is over.”
“Yeah. You want your money?”
“No. Keep it.”
He turned to leave.
“Where are you off to?”
“Here and there.” He walked a few meters and stopped. “Hey. Do you think Patti would’ve been proud of me?”
There was no need for her to speculate. “I think so.”
He walked away, not once turning to see if she was looking. If he had, he would have seen that she was.
Chapter 33
Aftermath
The Great Battle of New York had an equalizing effect on conventional dynamics. The Hi-risers, recent thralls of the promise givers, strayed without purpose among the Lo-enders. Many of them were homeless, some without so much as a stitch of clothing to cover their bodies. They wallowed in despair, while their Lo-5 counterparts returned to life as usual. The laborious process of clearing the rubble from their neighborhoods left little for lamenting.
Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) Page 27