‘Opening!’ Aviary’s voice filled her ear.
‘I don’t see them open—’
Shots cracked down the platform. She heard a chink sound from a passing window and saw a hole blast through the glass. She sprinted down the platform, after Czarina.
Czarina turned, aimed her carbine. Sophia almost hit the ground when she realized the carbine was pointed at her. Czarina seemed confused. She shifted her aim again, past Sophia, toward the staircase behind her.
The doors jerked open and Czarina darted inside. Sophia leaped into the carriage beside her and moved for the door at the end. Above her, dotted words rolled across an LCD announcement display.
(7) 11:38 PM
She burst through into the next carriage and kept moving.
‘Aviary!’ she said. ‘Close the doors!’
‘On it!’ Aviary shouted back.
She ran underneath a display and checked the next stop.
(7) TO TIMES SQ-42 ST
Blue Berets reached the platform and opened fire. She dropped to the ground and wriggled on her knees and elbows, her empty Glock in one hand and sword in the other. She heard movement in the carriage behind her.
Shit.
If she tried to make it for the next carriage they’d shoot her in the back. She got to her feet and bolted from the carriage to the platform. There were no Blue Berets on the platform. They were all inside—in the carriage just behind her. She ducked and moved under the windows of their carriage. She could hear them move through to the next carriage.
A cheerful male voice said, ‘Stand clear of the closing doors please!’
Her heart raced. She sprinted for the open door, legs working on adrenalin, and dived into the rear carriage just as the doors closed. She couldn’t really conceal herself behind anything: there was no cover inside the train. So she remained next to the doors as they shut behind her. She peered through the metal rails. At the other end, she could see the Blue Berets had moved into the next carriage.
No one checked their rear.
They were getting sloppy, she thought. Or over-confident.
‘Aviary,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Get the train moving.’
‘Uh,’ Aviary said. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘You said it was a new train!’
‘Yeah, not that new,’ Aviary said. ‘I can open doors. And close them. And I can start the engine. That’s it.’
‘Great.’
Sophia moved quickly to the doors and carefully opened them, then opened the next set of doors into the connecting carriage. The masked Blue Berets thought they were closing on Sophia but they would soon close on Czarina. She couldn’t handle them all by herself, especially if they had the element of surprise.
She looked down at her sword. If she could somehow get close enough.
Then the train started moving. She watched the Blue Berets hustle just ahead of her. The noise of the train moving along the track was giving her enough cover. That was good. But who was operating the train—Czarina?
The Blue Berets were ahead of her. If just one of them turned around she’d be done for. She crept around a pole and continued through the carriage, sword in both hands now. She could feel her pulse in both ears.
She made it five feet from the masked Blue Berets before the rear security swiveled, his carbine pointed at her.
She couldn’t knock the barrel off sight because another pole was in the way. Instead she drew her empty Glock and slung it into his masked face. It bounced off the mask, distracting him enough so she could move in the other direction. The other Berets hadn’t noticed yet, but as soon as that Glock hit—
The Beret tracked her with his carbine but the barrel struck the pole. She kicked him behind the knee and he half-dropped. She grasped his chin with her free hand and threw him onto his back. At the same time, she slashed outward to the second masked Beret, who brought his carbine around to see what the noise was.
Her tachi blade struck the carbine, which as it turned out made a reasonable shield. The Beret swung his carbine, pinning her sword to the floor. She slammed her palm down on top of the barrel with such force that it tore from his grasp and tipped over the sword. The carbine clattered along the plastic blue carriage seats.
Sophia brought her sword up under the Beret’s mask, into his neck. She kept her eyes on the other pair of Berets, one of her arms up to shield blood from her eyes. She launched forward. The third Beret reacted quickly, used his carbine to deflect her while the fourth Beret took aim.
Sophia couldn’t stop moving; she avoided a burst of rounds by running along the seating. She slashed backhanded, across the third Beret’s mask. He moved from its path and the strike was glancing—enough to shatter the rigid mask.
She landed behind the pair of them. They both tried to aim. She thrust the tip of her blade through the center of the third Beret, whose mask was now in two pieces. Her blade struck the ceramic plate across his chest.
The fourth Beret shifted his aim, but she was too close. She stepped forward and used her forearm to knock the barrel upward. The rounds punched through the roof.
Her sword was still jammed in the ceramic plate so she kicked the fourth in the kneecap before he could recover, sending him across the slippery seating, then pried her blade free, knocking the third onto the plastic seats as well.
The first Beret was still alive and reaching for his carbine. She weaved around the pole and came up behind him, ran the blade across the back of his neck. She caught one artery.
The third and fourth Beret watched as the first Beret clutched his neck, trying to stem the flow. He was still standing. Sophia pushed him forward, closing the gap between her and the remaining two, then moved around him—across the plastic seating. She weaved under a metal bar and her blade found the neck of the third Beret. He clutched his neck and fell.
The fourth Beret tried to gain some distance between them, meeting her strikes with his carbine. He drew his pistol with his support hand but Sophia knocked it away with her blade. She switched direction, catching him by surprise. Her sword found his neck.
She looked down to find her finally dry T-shirt, now spray-painted red.
Above her, the information display blinked.
(7) THE NEXT STOP IS
(7) BRYANT PK-42 ST
She checked the carriage. It was just the four of them. She thought about taking their radios but knew that in the tunnels she wouldn’t get much outside the train anyway.
She took her Glock from the ground and found two magazines from one Beret that fit hers. The other three were running their Glocks with .45 ACP rounds, not nine-millimeter. They were of course fingerprint-coded so she couldn’t even take their pistols. She settled for the two magazines she could use, loading one and moving into the third carriage—
A recorded female voice calmly said, ‘This is Fifty-First Street.’
The train didn’t slow.
Sophia continued through the carriages to the front. She found Czarina at the helm, inside the train’s driver’s cabin, carbine resting at her feet.
There was a screen in front of Czarina and an array of green and red buttons, two large yellow disc-shaped knobs. Through the windows above, Sophia could see the tunnel rush past in a blur, smeared with an occasional green or red tunnel light.
Czarina was guiding a lever that kept the train moving. Sophia stepped into the cabin and Czarina’s hand moved for the carbine, lingered. She sat in apparent suspended animation for a moment before she withdrew her hand.
Slave mode seemed to be wearing off.
Sophia didn’t know what to do.
‘Stop the train,’ she said.
Czarina released the lever and the train began to slow down by itself.
Sophia wanted to get in touch with Aviary and Nasira, but she knew her iPhone couldn’t hijack anything down here.
Sophia picked up the carbine. ‘Are you armed?’
‘No,’ Czarina said.
‘Come with me,’ Sop
hia said, leading her back into the first carriage.
She placed the carbine on the plastic seating, moved twenty feet away and aimed her Glock at Czarina. She applied pressure to the trigger. Just enough.
‘You’re too dangerous,’ Sophia said.
‘Your command?’ Czarina said.
‘No command,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Czarina watched her, but said nothing.
Sophia lowered her Glock. She hit a nearby pole with her sword and yelled at it. In the tunnel, no one would hear her. Only Czarina.
Czarina stared back at her, unblinking.
Sophia shook her head. ‘I’m going to regret this.’ She put her sword aside and said, ‘Unload parapsyche Lycaon.’
Czarina continued to stare at her. Her shoulder twitched. Then her eyes narrowed a fraction. It was enough for Sophia to notice. She felt the first wave of hostility come off Czarina like a fragrance.
‘What happened?’ Czarina said, bitterness in her words. ‘Whatever you’re trying to do, it won’t work.’
‘Story of my life,’ Sophia said. ‘Execute parapsyche Oranos.’
Something inside Czarina pulled her upright. She no longer seemed concerned by Sophia’s presence.
‘Oranos loaded,’ Czarina said. ‘Request command.’
This better still be the same, she thought. She held her pistol grip a little tighter, preparing for the worst.
‘Autumn frosts have slain July,’ Sophia said.
Czarina didn’t respond.
Sophia raised her Glock and lined the sights. ‘Come on.’
Czarina’s fingers wavered. Then her left arm jerked suddenly, as though someone had broken it. She twisted into a crouch and started moaning. Sophia didn’t know what to do. There was nothing she could do.
Czarina gasped, fingers scratching the carriage floor.
‘Parapsyche Ares—’ Czarina whispered ‘—erased.’
Sophia let out a small breath. She lowered her Glock.
Then Czarina bucked, her head smashing into the doors behind her. Czarina threw her body against it, limbs writhing. She screamed—a tormented, impossible scream.
Sophia took aim. Her arm trembled. She lined the sights with Czarina’s head.
Czarina cried out. Shrieked.
‘Stop!’ Sophia yelled. ‘Stop it!’
But Czarina didn’t stop. She wrapped a hand around her own neck as though she was trying to choke herself. She collapsed onto her elbows. Sophia watched her face turn white.
‘No.’
Czarina released her grip. She sat there, staring at her open hands, silent.
Sophia remembered to breathe. ‘Echo status,’ she said.
Czarina didn’t move. ‘Parapsyche Celaeno active.’
Sophia looked down to find herself on her knees. She let her head rest against the pole beside her. Its cool touch was refreshing.
‘Long had paled the sunny sky,’ Sophia said. ‘Echoes fade and memories die.’
Czarina met her gaze with renewed intensity. ‘All parapsyche backups erased.’
Sophia had two choices.
To either put Czarina back in her neopsyche—her programmed personality—or attempt to switch her into her real, original personality. Long before she was ready. It was the first time Sophia had tried this so soon. Even when she deprogrammed Damien and Jay in the field, she’d spent twenty minutes on each of them. And when Leoncjusz had taught her how to deprogram, he’d cautioned her that switching them before properly deprogramming was dangerous.
She didn’t have time to go any deeper. And she couldn’t take Czarina back to her neopsyche—she would just try to kill her.
‘Load archeopsyche,’ Sophia said.
There would be no further commands now. This was it.
Sophia swallowed. Waited.
The train remained still. There was no sound. They were alone in the tunnel together.
Czarina looked up at her. For a moment it seemed like she was almost choking. She cleared her throat and blinked.
‘Czarina?’ Sophia said.
‘I waited for you,’ Czarina said. ‘But you never saved me.’
Suddenly Czarina threw herself back, pressing against the cabin door. Then her fingers balled into fists.
‘It’s OK.’ Sophia holstered her pistol on her belt.
Czarina started to laugh softly. As though Sophia had missed an obvious joke. Czarina didn’t look up. But when she spoke, her voice cracked.
‘I went through two rounds of retraining because of you,’ Czarina said.
Sophia gripped the pole in front of her to keep herself steady. ‘What do you mean?’ she said.
‘I wasn’t convinced.’ Czarina shook her head. ‘Wasn’t convinced. Never convinced.’
Sophia rose slowly to her feet. She remained behind the pole.
‘What weren’t you—?’
‘You were a traitor.’ It brought a smile to her face.
Sophia slipped her hand back to her pistol. ‘Is that what you believe?’
‘It’s what they made me believe.’
‘Do you want to kill me?’ Sophia said.
‘Some wanted to,’ Czarina said.
‘I see,’ Sophia said.
‘Others wanted to be with you,’ Czarina said. ‘Some wanted to be you.’ She looked up, inspecting the advertising banners on the ceiling.
‘And what about you?’ Sophia said.
Czarina met her gaze. Sophia could feel it. A serenity that seemed out of place.
‘I wanted you to save me.’
‘I’m here now,’ Sophia said.
Tears made Czarina’s eyes shimmer. They spilled onto her cheeks.
Sophia wriggled the ruck from her shoulders. She laid it on the floor, pulled the zips, peeling it open so she could access everything inside. She picked out a scalpel knife, a cigarette lighter and a tube of Dermabond.
‘What are you doing?’ Czarina said.
‘Denton might know you’re with me,’ Sophia said. ‘Your RFID chip isn’t just a passive beacon. It has a geolocation transmitter as well. Once you’re above ground all they need is a satellite to pick you up.’
Sophia showed the map on her iPhone.
‘But none of his Blue Berets have seen us together,’ Czarina said. ‘At least none that are still alive.’
‘I know,’ Sophia said. ‘And the masked ones are not his. But I don’t want you being trackable, end of story.’ She held the scalpel under the flame of her cigarette lighter. ‘Will you do the honors or shall I?’
Czarina screwed her face up in protest. ‘Fine. I’ll do it.’
Sophia handed her the scalpel and stepped away. She couldn’t pick up on any hostile pheromones from Czarina, but she kept a safe distance to be sure.
‘Once you’ve thrown the implant out the window, we move to the next station,’ Sophia said. ‘I need to get above ground so I can get in touch with everyone.’
Czarina made the incision over the RFID implant in her forearm. ‘And then what happens?’
‘I’m working on that,’ Sophia said.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Czarina said. ‘What’s it like?’
‘What’s what like?’ Sophia said.
‘Not being an operative.’
Sophia shook her head. ‘Ask me later,’ she said. ‘Just get rid of that implant first.’
Chapter 35
Jay checked his pink iPhone. No missed calls or messages. Damien was to take the Marauder north, away from Hurricane Isaias. The north end of Manhattan was their best chance of escape, across the Harlem River to the Bronx. The Harlem wasn’t actually a river but a tidal channel and estuary. Even in Jay’s condition, he figured he could swim it if he had to.
But instead of going north, Damien had taken the Marauder in the opposite direction: right into the hurricane as it shattered downtown. With the rear doors finally closed and one of its wheels ripped and dislocated, the Marauder somehow managed to continue at top speed. Jay had strapped h
imself into the seat nearest the driver’s cabin. While there was glass between them, he could still speak to Damien and Damien could still constantly check on him to make sure he hadn’t passed out or whatever. Which he hadn’t. At least as far as he knew.
The rain was lighter than he expected, drumming against Damien’s windscreen. Around them, cars were fractured wrecks, streetlamps bent and twisted, storefronts obliterated. And Damien was moving even further into the epicenter. The Marauder could withstand the most powerful of land mines and explosives, but Jay wasn’t sure it had been tested against a Category 5 hurricane. Despite its weight, it shuddered under the pressure of the wind.
Jay had lost track of how far south Damien had taken them but he recognized the wrought-iron fences of the square park. During his short stay a couple of years back he had gone there a lot, with and without Damien. He remembered the dogs always outnumbered the owners. He’d never had a dog, but there were plenty of strays around where he grew up.
This park stuck in his memory though. He used to grab a takeout mac ‘n’ cheese—mostly because he didn’t want to be seen eating alone in the restaurant—and instead be seen eating it alone in the park, picking at a cardboard box with a plastic fork. He’d order the gluten free version—mostly because Damien would guilt him into at least partially keeping within the operative diet—but he made sure to get three types of meat and a fair shake of Tabasco.
Now, the park was empty. The many dogs and their owners were long gone. Damien turned right and worked his way around the perimeter, dodging collapsed streetlights. Jay figured he was trying for Williamsburg Bridge. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
He’d urged Damien to search the dead driver next to him for a radio but the masked Blue Berets had switched frequencies already.
‘What’s the plan?’ Jay said, knocking on the glass.
They made it as far as a shuttered-up flowers and fruit market before Jay noticed something strange ahead. It was hazy, indistinct.
‘Get out of range,’ Damien said. ‘Which unfortunately means—’
‘That?’ Jay said, staring ahead of them.
‘Shit,’ Damien said.
Water rushed toward them. An angry surge of white foam whipped up by the hurricane wind. Damien couldn’t do anything about it. The Marauder was a slow stopper and a slow starter, and its turning circle was pretty shit too. Damien did the only thing he could do.
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