by Ian Williams
“What, how?” Graham said. His first words of the meeting had everyone staring at him in surprise.
“I have someone who might know.”
Captain Rigs moved toward Conrad. “And?”
“And we haven’t found a way to make him talk just yet. He’s told us some things that have us worried, though. We know there’s more to Isaac’s plan than just making soldiers.” Conrad turned to speak to Phoenix mid-sentence. “What did you say your name was again?”
She gave no answer in return. Graham could see Conrad was desperate to remember where he had seen her before. A worrying thought crossed his mind soon after; what if Conrad knew of her past?
Unfortunately, the thought was broken by something much more threatening to their meeting than that.
“Hey, look it’s flashing.” Jack leapt to his feet and held one of his gadgets out to them over the second floor railing, its light signalling something to them.
A finger shot directly up to Captain Rigs’ ear told Graham all he needed to know. The only reason anyone would have for speaking to him through his earpiece was to warn of danger. Jack’s small device had already detected what was going on.
“How many?” Captain Rigs said. “Gregson, do you see them too?”
“See who?” Graham asked, only to be cut short by the Captain’s other finger raised in the air to stop him.
“OK, hold your fire.” Captain Rigs then began to order his guards about the room with hand gestures alone. When they had all scattered to their designated positions, he finally explained what was going on. “There’s a small group of enemy soldiers heading down the road outside. I have two of my people set up in the building opposite. They’re following the patrol with high-calibre sniper rifles, so we’re covered if we need to leave.”
“Shit, I need to get back to my people.” Brian stood and was about to head for the kitchen door when Petra’s men blocked him. “What are you doing? Get out of my way.”
“I tire of hearing his voice. End him,” Petra ordered casually.
Each of the four men with her produced a sawn-off shotgun from their coats and took aim at a member of the group. The obvious reaction from those now staring down the double barrels pointing at them was to pull out their own weapon and aim it back. Within seconds every person there had a gun either aimed at them or were aiming theirs at someone else. No-one dare say a word for the first few moments. Even the person who had drawn first now stood still, unsure of what to do next.
Graham remained in his seat and looked around in fear as the standoff continued. His own weapon was only a Taser pistol Captain Rigs had given him. Despite it having no chance of taking out the shotgun staring him down a few feet away, he kept it pointing back.
“OK, I think we all need to calm down a little here,” Captain Rigs said, his own weapon hovering roughly in the direction of Petra’s nose. “There’s no need for this to escalate any more than it already has. So, why don’t we all just lower our guns and–”
“Don’t waste your breath.” Brian kept his enraged glare solely on the thug in front of him. “We can’t deal with these fucking animals.”
“Animal, you call me animal?” Petra said with a snigger. “I spit in your face. I have seen enough here. You are no threat to Isaac. I will enjoy watching him kill you all.”
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Graham asked.
“I will not die here today, with you. I will live much longer. If I am animal, then you are prey. And Isaac is my keeper.”
“Holy shit, she sold us out.” Phoenix moved her own weapon from the large man next to her and aimed at Petra instead. “You fucking bitch! What have you done?”
“I survive because I am clever. I make deal with Isaac: I live, you die.” Petra, being the only one without a weapon, had no need to remain at all and decided to slowly stand and begin hobbling toward the kitchen door.
“Repeat, Gregson, say again,” Captain Rigs shouted suddenly. He lowered his gun to his side and ran for the boarded up window at the front of the room. Everyone else stayed still and with their guns frozen in place. All except for Petra, who continued on her gradual journey toward the exit. “Oh shit.”
“Have you not noticed the guns waving around in here? What the hell are you doing?” Brian called out to the Captain.
The response garnered a loud intake of air from most in the room.
“We’re surrounded!” Captain Rigs answered. The wind had all but been knocked out of him after seeing the lights from the drones outside their building. They were not only surrounded; they were completely outgunned too.
“Well, this all went rather splendidly, didn’t it?” Graham heard the oldest of the voices in his head say.
Chapter 22
Convergence
As Petra neared the kitchen door her bodyguards all made their own way toward her. Each took small steps away from the rest of the group with their weapons still raised. They were getting away and no-one in the room could do a thing about it. If even one of them were to fire their gun it was going to bring a whole storm of chaos down upon them.
Just outside the front of the building were three drones floating a few metres above the ground and shining their bright lights about the street. None there doubted what they were looking for too; Petra had to have given the enemy their location. So it was just a matter of time before the drones would begin firing.
“What are they waiting for out there? Why don’t they just shoot already?” Rhys said as loudly as he dared from his position on the second floor. Up to now he had kept his presence quiet. Once the standoff had begun he had already selected most of the targets using the eye-tracking function of his rifle.
Captain Rigs pushed the loose piece of wood he had moments ago removed to see outside back into place. “They won’t shoot while one of their own is inside. Isn’t that right, Petra?”
“Do not speak to me,” she replied.
“Gregson,” the Captain said, his hand up again to his earpiece. “Under no circumstances are you to allow any of Petra’s men outside alive. Do you understand? Good.”
“You cannot stop me, fool. Your snipers cannot see me through wall. I leave this place now.”
“My people don’t need to see you to shoot you down, just your heat signature.”
This made Petra rethink her dismissive stance. She slowly turned to face Captain Rigs, no doubt testing his resolve. If they were playing a game of cards then she was now working the numbers, trying to figure out the chances of him being able to back up his threat. In the end she chose not to believe it. She laughed before reaching for the door to swing it open.
“Take your pick, Gregson,” the Captain said.
A moment later and the first casualty had been claimed. One of Petra’s men fell to the floor after a tiny puff of red mist popped out from the side of his head, spraying a light spatter of blood across the wall behind him.
Everyone shot a look in the direction of the dead man. Graham did the same, then turned to see where the bullet had entered from. He saw a neat little hole in one of the highest wooden planks blocking out the window. Gregson’s shot had silently broken through it and carried on to the target, all without anyone noticing.
“You bastard.” To the surprise of all in the room, Petra went for the shotgun in another of her men’s hands and fired it straight into the nearest person. The unfortunate target this time was one of Brian’s guards, who flew back across the table behind him and tumbled away.
“No,” Brian shouted as he lunged forward with his pistol. If not for the last of his men holding him back, he would have tried to take on his enemies singlehanded.
“Everyone, shut the fuck up.” Graham brought their attention to the sudden humming noise coming from outside. They could all guess what it signified; the drones had found them.
“Oh Christ. Get down!” Captain Rigs’ voice boomed as loudly as a jet engine at full throttle.
The warning caused all inside to launch themselves to
the ground and cover their heads as best they could. Almost as soon as they did the attack began.
Each of the three car-sized drones unleashed their full arsenal into the room, blowing the wooden planks blocking the windows to pieces. They fired beams of bright red energy that tore through everything in their path, reducing anything and anyone they touched to searing chunks. The noise from each craft’s weapon deafened everyone caught in their sights.
Then came the ground force’s attack. While the drones punched a widening hole in the front of the building they stepped forward and fired together.
Graham slid across the ground on his stomach to get away from the burning debris raining down upon him. He pulled at the table leg and crawled beneath. The gun in his hand only made his movements harder, so he threw it away. The others around him were in a similar amount of panic as they wriggled and squirmed along the floor.
“Use the tables,” Captain Rigs yelled as loud as he could.
The table Graham hid beneath was tossed over to form a wooden shield for those able to get to it to lay behind. Anyone too far away tried to copy with a table nearer to them. Even Rhys up on the second floor had decided to do this, with Jack’s help. But any protection the tables provided was easily overcome by only a short burst of ear-piercingly loud firing from the drones. Within seconds they were already beginning to disintegrate the wooden shields.
Through the swinging door to the kitchen Graham could see Petra and her men making their way to the exit without any apparent rush to their walking. Somehow the barrage was missing them completely. Like a swarm of bees under her command, the bullets attacked everyone but her.
“We have to get out of here.” Graham had to shout at the top of his lungs just for the Captain to hear him a few feet away.
There was no real point in putting up a fight while the enemy were so intent on demolishing the entire place. Yet Captain Rigs was still managing to fire off a couple of desperate shots of his own. “Watts, Gregson, what’s your situation, come in,” he called into his radio. “We’re pinned down and need cover fire. Take out what you can.”
Brian rolled over onto his back behind the table as his last man landed next to him. A thick mouthful of blood poured out of the man’s mouth and nose. He choked hard, sputtered a few times, then became silent. “We’re dying here,” Brian said.
Hiding behind another table, to the side, was Conrad with his own people all around, one of which was now dead as well. He held the young Indian girl in his arms to protect her from the bullets. The two other men with him knelt down inside one of the small booths along the side wall of the restaurant and took pot-shots back at the enemy. Somehow Phoenix had become caught up in their group and was trying her best to get a clear shot with her rifle, from the cover of another booth.
It was chaos. Graham could see each of the people there trying to fight their own battle, with no coordination at all. There was simply no chance to find any form of structure to their firing. It was a matter of survival, and nothing else would be allowed for now. Still Graham found himself distracted by the sight of Petra and her men wandering away without a care in the world.
If anything, this annoyed him more than being trapped and under attack.
For a split second he thought he had been the only one to hear as a sharp metallic sound followed another beam of energy from the drones. It was only when Brian cheered in delight that he realised it had not been. He saw one of the drones react violently, spinning around and trying to correct an unstable wobble before firing into the building opposite. One of its eight large rotors was hanging half off.
Either Gregson or Watts had fired, with pinpoint accuracy, and destroyed a piece of the enemy craft.
The quick distraction was enough to bring a swift order from Captain Rigs. “Hit it again, hit the fucker again,” he screamed with sudden rage.
Another shot caused the middle drone to burst into flames as the bullet cut right through a fuel line. An arch of flames reached away from the craft as it frantically searched for a target, before lurching forward. While the other two drones turned their attention to the offices behind them, the damaged one began its last journey, into the front of the restaurant.
“It’s gonna hit us,” Graham bellowed to everyone around him.
As the drone nosedived into the concrete pavement its front crumbled and split open, exposing the metal structure underneath its outer casing. It continued to scrape across the ground until smashing through the window frame of the restaurant, where it finally came to rest. It now presented a small chance for those trapped inside. Its half destroyed body was covering the entrance and blocking any of the ground soldiers from entering.
“Holy shit,” Phoenix said. She leapt into the air with excitement.
But her celebration was cut short when the grounded drone jerked and jittered. The thing was still far from dead and appeared determined to get them. As its energy weapon whirled again, ready to fire, it was clear the fight would go on. Luckily for them the drone was in no position to aim accurately. Instead it fired into the ground in frustration, spitting its anger with a growl and a rumble.
“Now, go, everyone, out the back.” The Captain forced himself up to give his order. He then began pulling the others from cover and shoving them toward the, now entirely full of holes, swinging door.
Graham was grabbed and pulled to his feet soon after and sent spinning in the direction of the exit. He did not hang around to see what the others were doing and instead followed the man in front of him. Without any idea who was leading and who was following, he chose a body and kept it ahead of him.
In the background, the sound of something trying to remove the remains of the drone made him move as fast as he could. He ran past the vast metal cookers and work stations, rushed through the burning hallway and then finally made it out into the night.
The first thing that hit him upon making it outside was the smell of burning. He turned around and saw smoke billowing up into the purple tinted night sky. It was coming from the front of the building where the enemy craft had crashed. It meant only one thing to him; Gregson and Watts were now blind to what was happening. Taking out any more of the enemy would be near to impossible with so much smoke and heat about them.
“We can’t let Petra get back to her people,” the older voice inside Graham’s head told him.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he replied as the air in his lungs became hot and uncomfortable.
“If she gets away she’ll tell Isaac about Captain Rigs’ plan to destroy the relays. Someone has to stop her.”
More sped out through the rear exit of the restaurant to find Graham standing there, struggling to catch his breath. First came Brian, then came Rhys and Jack, a few of the volunteers from the basement – much less than had gone there – and finally Captain Rigs.
Jack was badly hurt, with a red streak across his neck that seeped blood between his fingers. He stood leaning against Rhys.
“Jesus, is he OK?” Graham asked.
“He was hit by debris. But if I can get him back to the basement in time, he should be OK. Wait, where’s Phoenix?” Rhys returned with.
Graham felt a sudden rush of panic as he thought over his escape. He swore he had seen her running behind him only moments ago. So where was she?
“Where’s Conrad and his people?” Captain Rigs then added.
Crunching and crashing sounds erupted from the other side of the building as the drone carcass was removed. It would next be up to the ground forces to make their way inside the building and clear out anyone left behind.
Rhys was first to realise this. “Here, take Jack,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Graham grabbed at Rhys’ arm to stop him. “You’ll die if you go back in there.”
“She might be inside still. Let me go, I have to try. I can’t lose her.”
A shot rang out from inside that made Rhys fight against them a moment later. Only the combined force of Graham, Capt
ain Rigs and a few others could hold him back.
Of those remaining, Brian was less inclined to hang around, seeing as the enemy were fast approaching. “Look, I’m in, OK. Contact me in a few hours and we’ll talk more. Now get the hell out of here. They’ll be looking for us for a while before they give up.”
“I agree.” Captain Rigs took a firm hold of Brian’s arm and shook it hard.
But as Brian left, Graham could not get his mind past one point. He had to share it with the Captain as the others began to drag Rhys away. “We can’t leave, not yet,” he said.
Captain Rigs stopped suddenly, his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. “Why?”
“What about Petra? She knows the plan.”
“Shit, you’re right. OK. She can’t have gotten far.” The Captain returned his hand to his ear again. “Gregson, Watts, report.” This time he allowed the response to come through his radio loud enough for them all to hear.
“We’re heading to you, sir,” Gregson replied.
“Negative. Relocate to a safe area and search for Petra. We need a location, quickly.”
“Sure, but sir, the enemy soldiers are swarming the place. You’ll be overrun in a few minutes if you don’t get out of there.”
“Understood. If you find Petra and have a clear shot, take it. She cannot be allowed to escape.”
“Affirmative, sir,” Watts said this time.
“OK, everyone who’s not coming with me should return to the basement. Remember to stay low and out of sight. Go.” Captain Rigs set off in the other direction, he did not wait for anyone to join him.
In that short moment Graham decided something he never imagined he would have before becoming involved in Isaac’s war. As he watched Captain Rigs jog away by himself he made a choice to help. He was no fighter, yet in the pit of his stomach dwelled a new anger. One he knew could not be sated by retreat. For too long he had been on the periphery of it all. Now he wanted to get his hands dirty.
The younger voice in his head agreed with a fist-bumping call to arms. “Fuck em up, dude!”