by Gini Koch
“Who else is involved in this?” He didn’t answer. “Tell me or I’ll break the other wrist. And that’s just for starters.”
“You . . . won’t,” he said between gritted teeth. “You don’t . . . work like that.”
A man’s shoe stepped onto Cantu’s broken wrist. The shoe had a foot in it, too, which was nice. I wasn’t taking anything for granted right now.
“She doesn’t,” Chuckie said icily, gun trained on Cantu. “But as you well know, we do.”
Cantu managed to bark a laugh. “There won’t be any ‘we’ left, Reynolds, don’t you get it? They’re here, and they’re going to destroy us. Surrender would at least mean we got to survive. But you and your self-righteous do-gooder ideals—you’re the one who’s going to doom Earth. Not me. Never me.”
“Cantu, enough with your blah, blah, blah. Dude, seriously, what kept you?”
Chuckie helped me to my feet, and I took a look around. He wasn’t alone. My mother was here, along with Kevin and Buchanan and several guys who looked as if they were familiar with Guantanamo and extracting information. Everyone other than Chuckie and Buchanan was wearing their P.T.C.U. caps and vests.
“We couldn’t use a gate,” Chuckie said. “Floaters aren’t stable, and we’re not sure how long the gate system is going to last so it’s reserved for Field agents only right now.”
“Dammit. We could use a few floaters to get the people out of here. There’s a lot of dead and probably even more injured.”
“Can’t help them until we can be sure medical teams can get in without being destroyed themselves. Right now we have everything focused on the invaders.”
The muscle guys picked up Cantu and handcuffed him, despite his broken wrist. I chose not to care. Cantu glared at me. “This isn’t over.”
“No, but it’s over for you.” The muscle moved him away from the rest of us. Not too far, but to where he couldn’t hear us.
“Good work, kitten.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I hugged her and got her breath-stopping bear hug in return. “Air . . . Mom . . . need air . . .”
She laughed and let me go. “I was just worried about you. Nice work on the phone. It’s not enough, but it’s a good start.”
“Yeah, great. But Cantu here makes a good point—we need to get the Z’porrah under control or gone before someone launches a nuke. Oh, but, Chuckie, you and Hacker International need to know that the Z’porrah are an ancient race, they’ve been here before, a lot, and the underground tunnels and such are their version of a computer network.”
“Really? Interesting.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d enjoy that. They also look like mini T-Rexes with wings. Don’t even ask. And by mini, I mean shorter than me. But I think that they and the Ancients had rival breeding programs or species advancement programs in place. My bet is that the Z’porrah are why we had dinosaurs, and they’re still bitter that the dinos died out.”
“Maybe the Ancients got rid of them to make way for the mammals,” Buchanan suggested.
“Could be. At any rate, that’s what’s in those spaceships. And the three who beamed down don’t like me much. At all. They said I was rude, can you believe it?”
Mom, Chuckie, Kevin, and Buchanan all gave me looks that said they could easily believe it. Always the way.
Forged on. “Lola did an awesome fake out. Clarence thought he had Jamie when he had a really pissed off Peregrine instead.”
Chuckie and Mom exchanged a worried glance. “The Dome was evacuated,” Chuckie said slowly. “The Z’porrah have half their fleet firing directly on it.”
“Crap.” Well, that explained why we were having problems with the gates. “They’re trying to blow the planet. If the tunnels really are a computer network kind of setup, then the Dome is where the heart of everything is.”
“You’re sure?” Chuckie asked.
“Pretty darned.” ACE was guarding the Dome, not Washington D.C. I was positive.
“The U.S., Russia, and Israel already launched nuclear weapons at the Z’porrah ships,” Kevin said. “The nukes were destroyed in the air.”
“The Z’porrah fired on the Dome after those attacks,” Buchanan said. “They may not consider that they’re attacking us; in their minds they may think we started it.”
“Possibly, but I’m not willing to give them the benefit of the doubt right now.” I could still see the faces of the dead, wounded, and terrified. “What’s it like elsewhere?”
“As far as we know, they’re only attacking here and at the Dome,” Kevin said. “No retaliation was sent toward Russia or Israel, despite their having launched nukes, and the Z’porrah aren’t firing at the part of our country where the nukes launched from, either.”
“Was there fallout?” If there was, we were really seeing the start of World War III.
“No,” Mom said. “Something engulfed the fallout, all of it. And then the nuclear codes went dead. No one can fire anything world-destroying, nuclear or otherwise.”
“Did Naomi and Abigail do that?”
Chuckie shook his head. “They’re using the two Power Cubes we have to create shielding over this area. The Cubes are boosting their powers, and they already know how to create shields. It’s why the buildings aren’t completely destroyed. Yet.”
So ACE was still protecting us. I was certain he was the one who’d engulfed the fallout and then killed our ability to fire more bombs. “Why are the girls protecting the buildings? I mean, I get it, priceless, rare thiˀngs, can’t be replaced and all that. But the people . . . they can’t be replaced either.”
“It’s easier for them to cover the buildings because it gives them a shape to follow and also means they’re not protecting superbeings. They’re taking fewer direct hits this way, too. And they’re covering every building attached to the Mall, which means all the contents of those buildings, which includes people.”
“I didn’t see anyone running inside anything.”
“Reader gave the order for the Field teams to get all the civilians into the museums and memorials, other than Lincoln, so in addition to architecture, they’ve got countless people inside by now. It’s tricky to let people in and out of the shields, though, so I don’t know how much longer Mimi and Abby will be able to hold out.”
“The girls are tougher than you think. Where did everyone in the Dome go?”
“Into the tunnels,” Chuckie said. “The hackers were able to find the entrance for them. Easily.”
ACE again, I was sure. “Have we talked to anyone in the tunnels?”
“No, Mimi and Abby can’t spare the focus, White, Reader, and Crawford are busy, and Serene’s presumably in those tunnels. It’s a long way from New Mexico to D.C., and there are no gates in the tunnels.”
“Only Power Cubes. If you can find them.” I looked in my purse. No Poofs still. “You think the Poofs are with Jamie and the others in the tunnels?” I asked hopefully.
“Haven’t seen a Poof,” Mom said.
“I haven’t seen Fluffy since you sent the Poofs off to try to find the cube that used to belong to White and your husband.”
My husband. Last I’d seen him, he was fighting Al Dejahl. “I need to find Jeff.”
“We need to stop this invasion,” Mom corrected. “We were h
oping you had some ideas.”
“I don’t know, how do you stop a flock of birds or a bunch of dinosaurs? Kill the leader?”
“Maybe, but we don’t know who the leader is or are,” Chuckie said. “The three who came to the planet might be, but they might just be diplomats.”
“Duck hunting,” Buchanan said.
“Not sure a decoy will work, Malcolm.”
He shook his head. “Lure them out, one by one, and finish them off that way.”
“It could work, but it’s slow,” Chuckie said.
“Take out the quarterback,” Kevin said. “Or get the ball away from them.”
“Football?” Mom said. “Right now? Really?”
“That could work, too,” Buchanan said.
“Super Agent Man, any ideas?”
“Take the king.”
“So, you’re suggesting duck hunting, football, and chess?” Mom said. “No wonder yoˀu all work well with Kitty.”
“Thanks so much, Mom.”
She shook her head. “I say shoot to kill and let God sort ’em out.”
“I like where your head’s at. But, there’s only one way to find out which one of these great plans is going to work. Find the tunnel entrance that’s around here, and get anyone you can down into it.” I gave Mom a quick kiss and took off for the front of the Memorial.
To find more chaos than I remembered. And I remembered quite a bit.
Yi
CHAPTER 99
THERE WERE SUPERSOLDIERS EVERYWHERE, most of them leaping into the path of laser beams. Some of them looked like they could take flight, but they weren’t doing so.
I assumed they weren’t flying because we finally had jets in the air, firing on the Z’porrah ships. There were a good number of them, but I recognized the flying signatures of several of our aircraft—my flyboys were in the air.
There were fewer people out and about, as Chuckie had said. In fact, I was fairly sure the only mobile people I was seeing were actually androids, because every one of them was fighting in some way. Did my best not to look at the nonmobile people and also tried to ignore the screams. They were farther away, but still, not all the innocents were safe. But I had enough rage, and I couldn’t let despair back until this was all over.
Now that I knew the Gower girls were creating shields, I could just make them out—a slight shimmering around every building.
Which was good, because several of the supersoldiers were down, and every one of them had let a superbeing loose.
The supersoldiers that weren’t taking the Z’porrah laser hits were fighting the superbeings. It was sort of a fair fight, but as I watched, a superbeing sliced through a supersoldier. And released a new friend. At the rate this was going, we were going to have more superbeings than supersoldiers fast.
Speaking of which, the Z’porrah had brought a whole slew of parasites with them. Somehow, they were still held in their protective bubble, but shots were being fired at and around them. Our aircraft weren’t firing at the parasites—the Z’porrah ships were. It dawned on me that ACE had to be who was keeping that protective covering around the parasites, and the Z’porrah were trying to release them.
ACE might be powerful, but he wasn’t limitless. Like the Gower girls, ACE had to be close to tapped out.
The Z’porrah ships started to take an interest in our jets. Our jets were nimble, small, and well piloted, so they were hard to hit. But the flying saucers could shoot from what seemed like any part of their saucer rim, so they could make up for a lack of precision by just flinging a lot of shots all over the place.
Tried to keep track of the jets I was sure were flown by my guys. It was a lot like watching a shell game, and I lost them here and there.
Falling debris forced me to run away from the Lincoln Memorial. I backed into some trees. I was good with hiding for a moment and figuring out where Jeff was, along with my next move. Running around being a target seemed stupid and futile.
I was in trees but had a pretty unobstructed view of the air. Five jets converged on one Z’porrah ship. As they zipped around it in death-defying ways, all their firepower focused at the dome on top, I knew without asking that these were my guys.
One of them hit the magic spot, and the Z’porrah ship started to crack. The jets took off as the flying saucer exploded.
“Yeah! Take that!” I jumped up and down. One small victory was still better than none.
Flying saucer debris rained down, and I hugged the trees. Another downside of this fight was that the debris wasn’t just hitting the Mall. I had no idea how much of it was falling on D.C. and the surrounding area, but I had to figure quite a lot.
My flyboys were at it again, targeting another Z’porrah ship. This time, they knew where the weakness was, and they hit it much faster. Another flying saucer broke apart into a lot of smaller chunks.
Wanted to call someone and tell them the rest of the jets needed to do this same technique. If we could get enough up there, we’d have the Z’porrah on the run. And I might have tried to reach Reader or Tim as the flyboys went after their next target.
But before I could decide if a call or text right now would be the height of bad timing or just what the doctor ordered, several Z’porrah ships released a barrage of firepower.
Three of the jets sheared off, spinning and flipping themselves in the air. They were safe, and I didn’t think they’d taken a hit. I looked for the other two.
They weren’t doing as well. The Z’porrah had blocked them, and they were having to maneuver between flying saucers, laser fire, and each other. They were doing a great job, but all it was going to take was one good hit and they were toast.
My guys were the best pilots out there, though. I didn’t need to worry or hold my breath. But I was doing both.
Another Z’porrah ship came down from above just as the two jets were making a break for the sky. The Z’porrah’s shots hit. One jet was on fire, and one had a wing sheared off.
Even hit, the pilots were the best of the best. They managed to maneuver away from the laser shots. But they were both crashing.
I judged their trajectories and was pretty sure they were trying to hit the tidal basin the Jefferson Memorial overlooked. It was filled with water, and would have far less water traffic than the Potomac.
But they were coming down fast, and even if they managed to hit the water, their chances of survival weren’t good.
I ran for the tidal basin. It wasn’t too far away from where I was, and I had the smoke trail from the jets to follow. Heard the crashes before I reached the water; they’d hit close together.
Jeff could swim almost as fast as he could run. ӀAnd we’d run on top of the water today, we’d gone so fast. So I didn’t slow down when I reached the tidal basin, I sped up.
Both jets were in the water and on fire. How I didn’t bother to question. The way our luck ran, one or both were going to explode. With my guys in there. My feet barely touched the water I was moving so fast.
Had to come to a screeching halt because I’d reached the downed jets. One canopy was off, and there was no pilot inside. The other was still on.
Ripped it off as if it were tissue paper, to see Chip Walker inside. He was bleeding from a variety of areas, including his head.
I couldn’t unlock the restraints. So I pulled them out. Grabbed Walker as carefully as I could. I was back at the high level of rage where everything worked just the way I wanted it to. Walker was light as a feather, and I took off toward the Jefferson Memorial. Put him down gently and scanned for my other pilot.
I didn’t see anyone in the water. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t in there. Took my purse off and left it with Walker, just in case. Then I ran on the water again, around the edge and then crisscrossing so that I could see every part. No one.
Ran back to the jets and searched around them. Took a deep breath and dove under. I was moving so fast that I was able to swim around the wreckage without issue. Which was good. Because I found him, pinned under a jet.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I shoved the jet off, grabbed my guy, and hauled him to the surface. It was Matt Hughes, and he looked worse than Walker. Put him into the carry position and ran like hell for where I’d left Walker.
Laid Hughes next to him as the jets exploded. I didn’t even turn around. Hughes needed mouth-to-mouth, but I had to slow down to do it or I’d kill him. If he wasn’t already dead.
“Excuse me,” a man said softly.
I looked up. An older couple was nearby. “You need to get to safety.”
The man looked around. “My dear, safety is an illusion.” He had an accent, but I was too distraught to figure out
where that meant they were from. “But you look as though you need help.”
“Can you do CPR?”
“Yes.” The man spoke to his wife in their native tongue. She nodded, knelt down next to Hughes, and started the pressing and blowing process.
The man knelt down next to Walker. “He is unconscious. I don’t believe CPR will help.”
More people crept out of the Memorial. Somehow, nothing was really hitting over here, though I didn’t expect that to last.
“Help me get them inside,” the man with Walker said to them.
My purse was still next to Walker, and I put it back over my neck while I dug my phone out and called the one person I knew would be able to handle this situation.
“Kitty, where are you?” Tito asked. He was shouting, and I could tell he was somewhere close by.
“Hughes and Walker are down, and they both look worse than bad. Ӏ We’re at the Jefferson Memorial. Some good Samaritans are trying to help us. I need you here, right now.”
“Gates aren’t working.”
“Then tell me where you are.”
“In front of the Washington Monument.”
“Stay there.” I looked at the man as I dropped my phone into my purse. “Please get them inside. I’ll be right back.”
I took off running. Ran on top of the water again. It was the straightest line to where Tito was.
There were fewer people out now. I hated myself for it, but I didn’t run around the dead bodies. I hurdled them, but I didn’t avoid them.
I was going so fast I sailed under supersoldier feet and past superbeings that moved as if they were standing still. It took only seconds to reach Tito.
Grabbed him and ran back the same way. I’d worry about him throwing up once we were there. Ran across the water, managed to stop before we ran past the Jefferson Memorial.
“Wow,” Tito said.
“You’re not throwing up.”
“Nope. I’ve been experimenting with an antinausea serum in my off time. I took it before you sent us off with Colonel Franklin, when it looked like we might see action. Seems to be working.”