by Gary Dejean
The transport takes off, slowly sliding toward the corner of the control tower, where the Major can look down the stairwell. He shoulders his rifle; below his feet, through the metal grate, he can see Chloe, David and Morgan heading into the second level. Focused, he addresses his squad: “The prototype is not with them.”
Angelo activates thermal imagery on the belly cameras of the ship, tracking the fleeing trio while the Major scans the main deck, trying to spot Jake with his bare eyes. All the while, the boy is sowing confusion, making rapid passes at Alpha team, who can’t lock their rifles on him. “He’s here!” shouts Bautista.
The Major spots Jake retreating to a supposed safe spot on top of the containers. He takes careful aim and fires a burst of three rounds. Grazed by the bullets, Jake turns to see the ship hovering above the control tower. Having done all he could to delay the strike team, the boy realizes that he has wasted time. With the dropship in the air, there aren’t many options left. He slides down between containers and enters the trunk of a car on the third level.
Meanwhile, the voice of the Major starts blaring through loudspeakers. “Jake Patel, this is the Police,” he says, menacingly articulate. “I’m glad to see you’re having fun, but it’s time to put down the toys. You’ve been very naughty, and now it has to end. This ship isn’t going anywhere. The Secret Service are on the way. Surrender. Now. Before things get bloody. Because I swear one thing to you, little boy: if you live through tonight, you’ll regret everything.”
Jake isn’t really listening to the threats. From inside the trunk, his visual feed linked to the bumper camera, he directs his car remotely out of the container, onto a pile of disabled vehicles and among the other ones driving nonsensically.
Patti and Yuwono have rushed inside the ground level of the control tower, where the unresponsive elevator displays only glitches. Through their infrared cameras they can see Chloe, David and Morgan above them. Patti spots an indoor staircase and runs in head first, taking the door off its hinges, followed by Bravo Two.
Jake nears a crane at the bow, turning the car toward the one at the other end of the storage deck. When no one can see him, he pops the trunk open and crawls onto the roof of the car, accelerating along the side of the ship. As the claw swoops over the containers he jumps off, grabbing it in mid-air, the heavy weight of the object bending his trajectory and, balancing his legs before he’s gone a full circle, he lets go, flung upward toward the open dropship.
Still carrying Morgan by the shoulders, Chloe and David get to the elevator left open to their attention. They’re about to get in but freeze when the rest of Bravo team burst out of the staircase, their exosuits still smoking from the explosion. Tall in their armors, the two hellhounds point their rifles at them.
The Major is still trying to locate Jake, when suddenly the boy flies in, kicking him in the chest with both feet. The blow sends the veteran backwards, throwing him out of the transport through the opposite opening. His back hits the ledge of a chimney on the way down, before his legs go over and he falls inside. Jake softly lands on his feet and walks toward Angelo.
“Get off,” the boy says, his words alone implying a threat Angelo doesn’t care to find out about. Taking off his headset, he steps away, scared to death. Jake pulls a wire from his wrist and connects it to the main console.
Down on the second floor, Patti and Yuwono are aiming their rifles point blank at Chloe, David and Morgan. Full of spite, Patti is getting ready to complete the mission. “This is for all the cops you’ve put in the hospital,” she says, chilling their blood as she pulls the trigger.
Her rifle only releases a strange buzzing sound. Her superior in the chain of command, Yuwono is taken aback. “The fuck you doing?” he asks.
She tries firing again but her rifle repeats the loud buzz. “Something’s wrong,” she remarks.
“Did you just try to shoot them?” Bravo Two insists, his own confusion spreading to their captives.
Suddenly, a synthetic voice comes from Yuwono’s exosuit: “Powering down,” the emotionless voice of the interface informs.
“What?”
The trooper stiffens inside his armor, but under the weight of the ceramic plating he falls to his back, a loud thunk echoing across the entire level.
“Shit!” Patti bursts, dropping her rifle. She unclips her chest and belt harness, freeing herself from the dying contraption just as it is powered down. Chloe and David use the distraction to carry Morgan into the elevator, but behind them the vengeful private contractor is already springing out of her suit, rolling on the ground and pulling her pistol.
Patti gets a clear shot just as the doors of the elevator close, and pulls the trigger. She sees the bullet enter Morgan’s throat, an instant before the doors close. Jake has brought up the live-feed from the elevator camera onto Angelo’s console, and both of them see Morgan falling to the ground, her neck pierced and squirting blood everywhere.
“Morgan!” the child cries. Standing right next to him, in shock, Angelo feels his legs shaking.
The boy lands the dropship back on top of the control tower, near the ladder leading to the command deck. Down in the storage area, Bautista and Ocampo are taking aim with their rifles, and he closes the door of the dropship through which they can see each other. Angelo stumbles backward, leaving the transport, his eyes locked with that of the child.
“This is a mistake,” the young man tries to reason.
The Little Blackjack’s military design doesn’t let Jake’s face express much, but it’s obvious when he frowns. Angelo shuts up, anxiously gulping.
Patti stands back up, satisfied with her quick thinking. Behind her, Yuwono is lying on his back, as impotent as a turtle. “Hey, help me out, here!” he calls but, without a word, Patti runs back into the staircase, rushing upstairs after the survivors.
Meanwhile, Alpha team have suffered the same fate. Exiting their exosuits, they aim their pistols at the top of the control tower. “They’re tryin’ to get to our ship,” Bautista tells Ocampo, deprived of any radio to reach the rest of his team.
Inside the freighter’s chimney, the Major has managed to impede his fall by spreading his arms and legs. Assisted by his exosuit, he slowly climbs up backward.
Lying on the floor of the elevator, Morgan is coughing blood, a bullet hole in her neck spurting more and more blood by the second. Her eyes are almost empty. Knelt next to her, Chloe is trying to stop the bleeding with both hands. “Mum! Please hang on…” she begs, the obvious gravity of the wound defying her denial.
Gathering her last breath, Morgan squeezes her daughter’s arm. “Save yourselves,” she whispers, before her eyelids come down for the last time.
Her hand goes soft and releases its grip before the elevator reaches the bridge. When the doors open David grabs Chloe by the wrist and pulls her out, tearing the young woman out of her thoughts. “We need to go!” he shouts.
They run through the command deck, where under his dashboard the terrified captain sees them pass by. Alpha team unload their pistols but, at that distance and without assisted aim, their shots only shatter the windows. David and Chloe run outside, when Patti bursts out of the indoor staircase. She launches in pursuit, checking the open elevator with her gun up, the sight of Morgan’s corpse filling her with pride, before catching up to the fugitives.
David climbs up the ladder and runs straight to Jake, checking his body for wounds out of protective instinct, but the boy is only hurting on the inside. Staring at the screen, where Morgan’s body lies in a pool of blood, he whispers, his tone inflected despite himself in the form of a question: “I can still go get her!”
David puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, son,” he mumbles, aware of the trauma the child is undergoing.
Chloe is right behind them. “Let’s go,” she says, shivering, as her eyes land on Angelo standing just outside the transport. He’s looking at her, hands apologetically open, seemingly about to speak but frozen rigid. His eyes carry mo
re regrets than he’d know how to phrase, but his sympathy is worthless to the freshly orphaned woman. She looks away in disgust.
As the turbines blow stronger and the ship takes off, Patti finishes climbing up the ladder. She shoves the young man aside, planting her feet in a firing position, ready to empty her clip.
“No!”
Angelo yells as he diverts her aim. Far in the distance, the bullet hits the water. Her targets having retreated inside the transport, Patti is fuming. She steps away from Angelo who lets go of his grip; the young woman can hardly recognize him and they both stand, speechless at each other.
Startled by the gunshot, the passengers of the dropship do not pay attention to the Major as they fly by the freighter’s chimney. Crouched on the edge of the large cylinder, he leaps into the transport, landing heavily at the opposite side. Jake immediately closes the door behind him, trapping them all inside the flying tin can.
In the distance, Secret Service helicopters are on approach. They're nearing the freighter when the swarm of insect drones takes off from its many hiding spots. The cloud of electronic fireflies dazzles the troopers left on the ravaged storage deck as it rises above them, before converging above the incoming helicopters.
From atop the control tower, Patti and Angelo are observing with awe their fluid motion as they spread high and descend, pulled down into the air column generated by the rotors. As water through a sinkhole, they spiral through the blades, destroyed by the dozen, a handful of them enough to latch onto the cockpits and carry a flurry of contradicting commands to the electronic control units. All kinds of signals light up on the control boards, and soon all three helicopters go down in the ocean.
Freed of any pursuer, the dropship is already flying away, quickly gaining altitude and disappearing in the darkness.
Chapter 12
The mechanism of his suit purrs as the Major stands up. At the other end of the ship, David steps in front of his son, while Chloe nabs the last spare rifle from the gun rack and aims at it the Japanese. Jake engages stealth mode on the transport, switching the white lighting of the interior to a gloomy red.
“I have to admit I’m impressed,” congratulates the Major as he steps closer, his behavior contradicting his words and an oversized revolver hanging from his hip. Chloe advances between him and the Patels, pointing the muzzle of her rifle straight to his face. The man raises both hands above his head with a sarcastic grin. “You won’t be needing that,” he says, his raucous voice almost tender. “I was hoping we could talk. You know our prime suspect is down. We’re not after you. Where does that leave us?”
“Stay back or I’ll shoot your face off!” Chloe shouts. The Major stops halfway through the central lane of the transport. “I understand you’re upset, Miss Zhu,” he grants, “but do you really want to become a murderer?” The question strikes them all as a genuinely good point. “What about you, Mr. Patel: nothing to say about this whole situation?”
Singled out, David tries to play down the mess. “Listen officer,” he exclaims, jumping on the chance to plead his own case at last. “We don’t want any more trouble here!”
“That’s good,” deems the Major.
The stress of the situation is making Chloe see red, even more than the lights alone would. “Don’t start apologizing!” she yells at David over her shoulder. “This fucking bastard got my Mum killed!”
The Major looks at the boiling young woman, speaking more softly now that he addresses her directly. “I’m sorry it came to that,” he declares.
“Sheesh! That doesn’t mean much,” ironizes Chloe. “Jake, can you find a place for us to drop that shitbag?”
“Stay out of this, Chloe!” David bursts, trying to regain control of the situation.
Jake's reply comes quickly nonetheless. “I got just the spot,” he says, his own anger, colder than that of his friend, tainting his synthetic voice.
The stealth dropship emerges above the clouds. In the distance, the top of the H+ incorporated skyscraper is shining with decorations celebrating the dawn of a new decade.
“Since we got a few minutes,” the Major adds, “can I just ask… What’s your plan, here?” He pouts, perhaps trying to look harmless despite his combat exosuit. “You know men like me will keep coming for you…”
Chloe looks at him with disdain. “Then we’ll just have to go through them too, won’t we?” she says, locking the stock of the rifle in her shoulder.
“Stop antagonizing, already!” David insists, leaving his son at the console to join Chloe and the Major.
“Alright,” the Japanese grants Chloe, doubtful. “But… for what? Your mother was very clear that you’re all no accomplices. Why carry on?”
David grabs the rope held. “Thank you sir,” he articulates respectfully. “I see you’re a reasonable man. I hope we can come to an arrangement.”
“Again, with the bargaining!” explodes Chloe. “Seriously, David: the guy’s a merc. Whatever comes out of his mouth is snake oil!”
“I said ‘stay out of this,’ Chloe!” David roars, his negotiating facade crumbling in an instant. “You’ve done enough!”
The words chill her to the bone. At the front end of the ship, Jake feels equally hurt.
“And what’s your plan Miss Zhu?” asks the Major, this time a note of criticism in his voice. “You really wanna go to ground with a classified prototype? You know that’s the only thing they’re after.”
David turns to Jake. Seeing the expression on his father’s face, the boy takes a step back. “Sir,” David asks, looking at him with despair. “Can you give me your word that my son and I won’t be separated?”
The Major takes a second to consider the request. “I wish I could,” he replies in plain honesty, “but you know that’s going to be up to a jury after the mess he made. I can swear to you that I’ll put in a good word.”
“Not good enough!” Chloe spits through her teeth. She would blow the man's head off, was it not for the child’s presence, but the Major isn't intimidated.
“As for you Miss Zhu,” he adds, “if you would stop pointing that gun at me, that would be a good start.”
“Oh, you’d like that, huh?” she sneers, sticking the muzzle to his face.
“Very much, yes,” he replies with a polite smile.
Understanding that Chloe won’t listen to him, David tries his best to keep the conversation civil: “Officer,” he starts, unfamiliar with the Major's rank, “my son will need a new body, we can’t just take his brains out like that.”
To the boy, this last statement sounds as a betrayal. “Dad!” he erupts, disappointment rivaling the surprise.
“What?!” Chloe blurts out, herself astounded at David’s decision.
“I understand,” says the Major. “That shouldn’t be a problem, so long as you cooperate.”
David walks back to his son and kneels in front of him. “Jake,” he says, his face distorted by the gravity of their predicament. “I need you to be a good boy, now.”
Despite the discouragement, Chloe doesn’t let go of her heavy rifle. Jake shakes away his father's grip, weary of his trail of thoughts, and secures the port connecting his wrist to the console under the palm of his hand.
“I know you loved Morgan very much,” David insists, “but she’s done some bad things. And it’s not our place to pay for her mistakes.”
“Seriously?!” Chloe gasps, caught up by the father’s version of the events.
Jake hangs on to the console, before everyone else is sent stumbling by a sudden deceleration. When the side door opens, they're hovering a few feet over the heliport of the highest tower in town. Five hundred meters below, civilians have amassed to watch the fireworks.
“You’re still not getting it, are you?” Jake hollers. He stands up to his father, carrying himself with a menacing demeanor that David doesn’t recognize. “Morgan made this body for me. It’s mine!” he yells, pounding his chest. “I’m not giving it back.”
Chloe
looks at the boy over her shoulder, moved by his false understanding. She is leaving ample time for the Major to deliver a sucker punch, yet the man still refrains from using violence, instead rolling his eyes with growing odium.
“Well,” David declares, addressing his son like a reproachful teacher, “the Policeman says it belongs to the Government, so it’s not yours. You’ll get a new one! Now land that ship and let’s all get out.”
Jake shakes his head off. “No,” he states, his tone unmistakably final. “You’re getting out, Dad. Him too.”
He points a finger at the Major over David’s shoulder, staring defiantly at the Japanese who only smirks in reply. Immediately taking sides, Chloe backs away from the Major, keeping her rifle aimed at him with precaution.
“Now, don’t be ridiculous, son!” David shouts, baffled by Jake’s newfound rebelliousness.
He’s about to go into a tirade when the Major interrupts: “I’ll take it from here,” the man snarls. The loud clink of his metallic boots echoes in the vehicle. Before he reaches Chloe, the young woman is trying to shoot her rifle, but locked by the embarked computer the trigger doesn’t even budge and she insists, startled, while the Japanese calmly walks past her. The Major’s movement prompts panic aboard the ship, and as he draws his revolver, David steps in front of Jake, imploring mercy.
Hanzo grabs David by the collar and throws him aside, standing face to face with Jake who holds the console tight. The boy is about to send the ship tipping so as to throw the Major out once more, but neither of them is inclined to waste time. Following his own advice, the Japanese fires his revolver point blank, tearing a titanium plate off of Jake’s thigh as the magnum bullet pummels through. The deafening noise freezes them all solid, safe for the combat hardened veteran now running the show. With a powerful lateral kick, he throws Jake out of the ship down onto the helipad.
“You maniac!” David cries when he finally regains awareness.