Floor 21- Dark Angel

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Floor 21- Dark Angel Page 89

by Jason Luthor


  Not that I have much time to do it. With the bulk of Dravic’s forces breaking through the line at 23rd and pushing south, I give the second evacuation order. “Block leaders, begin second evacuation stage. I repeat, begin second evacuation stage. All forces from 42nd north, begin evacuation.” It’s an order that will send troops either to Colonial Bridge in the west or pushing south toward the Green Zone. With most of Dravic’s forces occupied in the south, I’m really just hoping they won’t be able to respond before we secure everyone. There’s still a huge line of traps running down almost every mile of 23rd street, from the east end of the island to the west. All I can really hope for at that point is that it’s enough to stall Dravic’s people while residents try to cross Colonial Bridge.

  Jackie’s Recording 40

  I don’t see it until it descends out of the darkness. We’re not flying Baby Boys over the skyline, after all. When it does appear, it’s like some gigantic beast from a myth, its nose plowing through the clouds and dragging its body behind it. “The Dynamis,” I say quietly as I try to process how close we are to Fort Silence. “Erin. We’re closing in on firing range. Are you ready to take over firing control?”

  “Ready,” he calls back, even if his voice is a little shaky. “I’ll make you proud. Mother’s honor.”

  “I believe you,” I tell him as I remove the helmet. “The Panzer’s not going to move after this, not unless you manually tell it to, and that’s going to be hard to navigate without using the helmet. If you need to evacuate . . .”

  “I know it’s not likely. I doubt I’ll have the time, general.”

  I look back at him with a frown. “Erin.”

  “I knew what I signed up for when I came along for the ride. I’ll keep the guns blazing until the old girl’s got nothing left to give.”

  “Thank you, Erin.”

  “Don’t be thanking me now. Time for you to lead the final push. Ishara, Tara . . . your friend, Mike . . . Let’s make sure everything we’ve sacrificed to now actually means something.”

  “You’re right.” I flex my hands as blue light starts running up my body, my officer’s uniform vanishing as it’s replaced with my black armor. A second later, I’m suited up again, my helmet’s visor coming to life as it finishes forming around my head. “We’re both going to make it through this.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. Now go on. You’ve got a date to keep with General Yousef.”

  I nod to him as I turn around. “Lower the faceplate.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t really have to. The entire room starts to vibrate as heavy gears start to turn, the front half of the Panzer’s face lowering. Even though the faceplate has to weigh a few tons, it still lowers fast enough that the city rushes into view. I can see the lines of towers on either side of me, falling away the closer they come to the city’s edge and Victory Field. From here, I have a better idea of how much ground Fort Silence covers. There are miles of that field to cross before we’re at the gates. At the center of it all, the walls of Fort Silence rise out of the ground. Gun emplacements along the walls are already firing and rockets are shooting off through the air. Ahead of me, along the ground, I can see waves of our army bursting from the city streets and rushing straight at the fort from multiple sides. There are swarms of fast moving transports screaming along the ground and tanks plowing forward as fast as their engines will take them. Men in power armor are flying across the grass and pavement, cutting away at angles to avoid the return fire coming from the walls. The whole time, the ground is getting torn apart, blowing into the sky as artillery and turret fire chew up the field.

  Our army stretches out for miles, but there are more than enough guns to defend Fort Silence. Explosions are erupting along the ground as guns turn to target them, Talons from Fort Silence strafing through the air and launching missiles that go streaking into clusters of our troops. That strategy doesn’t last long, not after the Panzer’s guns start tearing through the skies and ripping into the squadrons pummeling our people. Then, above it all, there’s the goliath image of the Dynamis as it drops out of the sky, its guns roaring as it targets us.

  I’m bathed in light as the spotlights from the Dynamis cross over me, the shuddering sound of the golden horn bouncing across the city. Then I’m standing there, staring down this massive ship as fighting breaks out in the streets below, gun fire tearing through the air and explosions ripping apart the skies and the ground. Far ahead, already rushing across the grounds at incredible speed, I can see the DEC troopers speeding along toward their target. That’s when I know it’s time. “Dark Angel to Vanguard. Inbound in two.”

  Kali’s voice shoots back. “Confirmed, Dark Angel. We’re inbound to the central gate in three.”

  I take in a deep breath and push forward, sprinting to the end of the deck and taking a leaping jump out of the Panzer. For a second, I’m in freefall, my body dropping toward the city as I drop underneath the line of guns firing from the Panzer’s chest. Then my thrusters kick in, my body rocketing ahead as I streak off into the distance. Building rooftops pass under me as I go flying over the battlefield, my eyes tracking everything on the ground as my visor highlights fighting breaking out on the streets.

  Our armored transports are zipping along the ground, full of troops waiting to get deployed. Then there are the slower tanks, taking up the rear and firing on the walls of Fort Silence. Finally, there’s the Sha’b, some wearing Absolution powered armor but most of them in basic combat vests and helmets. That power armor though . . . It’s impressive. Their back thrusters form a wall of glowing light as they shoot through the streets, barely touching the ground as their repulsor thrusters rocket them forward.

  A cluster of missiles comes spiraling my way, my body rocking back and forth as I swing out of the way of one after another. Bright explosions in red and orange blooms erupt around me, my body shaking under the force of narrowly missed detonations. Then there are the bullets, the long streaks of endless anti-air flak rounds filling up the sky. I’m spinning endless spirals as I dodge one stream of bullets before having to dodge another, my body angling hard toward the ground. Gun fire chases me until I fall too low for them to follow, my body erupting over Victory Field and rocket toward the gate securing Fort Silence.

  I’m closing so fast, I barely have time to swing my legs underneath me as I hit the ground, my legs slamming with enough force that I go tearing through the paved road leading to the gate. Concrete and earth kick through the air as I drag through the ground for a few dozen yards, my legs pushing me back upward a second before I lose my balance. I go flying back onto my feet, my sword already out as the walls of Fort Silence loom above us, guns all along the walls focused on taking me out. That’s the point. That’s why I’m here. To keep everyone else alive. As long as I’m on the field, the guns will be focused on me and not the people around me.

  I fly upward, gunfire chasing me as I head into the skies one last time before I come down on the gate. My legs flip behind me as I swing my sword downward, the edge slicing through the top of foot thick metal, a searing diagonal cut burning through the gate doors. My sword’s too short to cut all the way through, but it does the job. It weakens the gate door just enough for what needs to come next, and with the metal still smoking, the troopers of the Vanguard drop their shoulders and go barreling right past me, slamming through the gate and exploding into the inner courtyard. The scanners in my visor are searching in all directions, feeding me back information on tens of thousands of soldiers filling the area. There’s a flood of remotely piloted Apotheosis class power armor, typical for Fort Silence troopers, plus more tanks and gun emplacements than seems reasonable. Troops rush to meet us as we flood into the courtyard, the walls around Fort Silence erupting in orange bursts as tank fire pummels the thick steel and concrete structures.

  A wave of Apotheosis class power armored troops hit us first, guns blazing as they close before they switch to blades. Everything becomes a blur as energized sw
ords slice through the air, ringing against the bladed gauntlets of the Vanguard. I drop low as one cut swings for my head, then rise up with my own sword, slicing off the arm of the trooper. He backs away, and I launch into him, my hand grabbing at the breastplate and ripping it off. It’s the first time I remember that not all of these suits are remote piloted, because inside, there’s a panicked soldier who starts screaming when I rip him out of the belly of the armor and toss him back into the crowds. A second later, I grab the armor and brace against the ground, swinging the massive metal frame and tossing it into the onslaught of Fort Silence troopers. It goes barreling into them, staggering them and giving me an opening. I run forward, launching off their collapsed bodies and flying into the crowd, my sword cutting through mechanical arms and tearing through legs. Soldiers go collapsing to the ground as their armor collapses underneath them.

  With the middle of the enemy column softening up, I see the Vanguard charging up from behind me, their rifles firing off hundreds of rounds until they’re within an arm’s length of the enemy. They slam their rifles to their magnetized back plates as their heavy metal hands go punching into armored suits, forcing the enemy back before the Vanguard cuts into their armor with the bladed gauntlets. In my helmet, I can see the attack stalling north and south of the Vanguard, with the Sha’b walkers struggling to push back the troops from Fort Silence and almost getting pushed back themselves. “Kali, hold the center!” I scream to my side. That huge, death’s head helmet of hers turns to me for all of a second.

  “We have this. Go!”

  I barely give her a nod before the thrusters on my back roar to life and send me into the sky, fire trailing behind me as I erupt toward the south end of the inner courtyard. I literally come crashing into the enemy lines, my legs lying out in front of me as I bowl through two or three armored soldiers. I’m inches away from them within seconds, and the best I can do is use my hands. I swing my clenched fist toward the nearest soldier, cracking the robotic headpiece and detaching it from the armor, blinding him. My leg instinctively kicks out behind me, catching one of them as they’re charging at me and bending in the metal plates of his armor. I grit my teeth, hoping for a second that the pilot inside is okay, but a quick look at my own troops reminds me that I can’t worry about every injured soldier from Fort Silence. My sword materializes in my hand as I swing it at his knees, detaching the gigantic frame from its legs and sending it into the ground. Then the edge of my blade continues turning, cutting through the breastplate of another.

  Before I’ve finished my turn, I feel hands grabbing me from behind. They rise up under my arms and behind my head, the powered steel tendons inside those massive metal arms straining to keep me pinned. Before I can break loose, one of the solders swings his blade at me, the edge catching me right across the stomach but breaking when it hits my armor. The guy doesn’t waste a breath, instead raising up his rifle in his other hand and firing off a stream of shots. I feel every one of them punching into my guts, dozens of bullets pushing the armor to its limit. My visor’s flaring red and warning signals are going off, reminding me I can’t take those kinds of hits, and with every bit of strength I have, I tilt forward. I put so much force into it that the guy holding me goes flying over my back and into his friend, freeing me up in time to see the Sha’b closing the gap, their rifles firing into the enemy. A mix of rifle rounds and energy blasts go flying by me, giving me just a second to catch my breath as both sides of the fight slam into one another.

  There’s a second when it’s surreal, when there’s just a wave of heavily armored troopers rushing past me, followed up by every other Sha’b soldier you could imagine, just guys in basic combat armor and tactical helmets. Guns are firing and blades are out. Above us, artillery fire from the base is crashing into our rear lines. Suiciders are zooming overhead, their rockets pouring into the enemy moments before their gliders are blown out of the air by flak gun fire. Then, way in the distance, beyond the walls of Fort Silence, I can see the guns of the Panzer focusing in on the Dynamis, which is returning fire with every weapon it has. Explosions are erupting from the flying ship, but the Panzer’s completely focused on taking it out, leaving us without any more support. “Dark Angel to command!” I scream into my helmet. “Erin, what’s the situation?”

  “Angel, it’s a madhouse. Full guns of the Dynamis are bearing down on me. It wouldn’t be so much of a problem if not for everything Fort Silence is deciding to throw my way. It’s taking every flak gun onboard just to keep from getting pummeled by missiles.”

  “Shit.” All I can think is that, if we can’t free up the Panzer, we’re going to get torn apart. We’re sitting ducks just fighting it out on the inner grounds. “Do I have to go to you?”

  “What’s that now?”

  I don’t have a chance to answer. Out of nowhere, a golden beam of energy cuts through the battlefield, the ground exploding apart next to me as men and women are thrown to the side. The golden beam cuts almost to the wall of the fort, and even if I can’t see him through the crowds, I don’t need to ask who it is before I growl his name.

  “Yousef.”

  Dodger’s Recording 24

  I’m rushing through the tunnels to the Green Zone, the Fury repulsor bike we ‘requisitioned’ for this operation zipping me through the subway in a mad dash for where the last stand’s going to happen. I’ve got my helmet strapped on and audio coming in through my earpiece, but I’m really dead focused on getting to where I need to be. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel my breath getting short as reports are coming in.

  It’s when Martin comes in over the line that I get nervous. “Lieutenant,” he says. “We’ve got most of the people entering the Green Zone now. We formed up around seven city blocks, holding 116th street north of the Zone, but . . .”

  “What, Martin?” I ask as the tunnels ahead light up as my bike’s headlamps shine through the darkness, the bike sliding around a curve as I continue pushing forward. “What’s going on?”

  “We got as many inside as we could. There are definitely pockets of people out there in the city all the way north to the river.”

  “We both knew that was what was most likely going to happen once Dravic started redirecting his people.”

  “Patel helped organize the defense line east of the zone, along Madison Avenue. He saved a lot of lives.”

  The words are ominous. For a second, I bring the Fury to a stop. “What are you telling me?”

  “Sergeant Patel’s gone. I thought you should know, since he was a friend of yours.”

  When you see someone go down in front of you, there’s so much involved. The gunshots, the chaos, it’s all just a big frenzy. When you’re leading something, when you can’t physically be there to protect the people you care about . . . maybe it’s worse. It’s just a few words letting you know that someone you care about died. There were no final words, no long goodbyes. They’re just gone.

  There’s a long moment when I sit there in the dark, not saying anything back. Patel was closer to Tommy, but we still fought together. He was still a guy I’d served with for forever. And all I can think is . . . he’s gone. Then, I remember Patel, and the way he was. The way he put himself on the line over and over to defend Central. And as much as I can feel his death making all of this fighting feel incredibly real and close, I know he’d tell me I have to focus. I have to get the job done, because otherwise, what did he die for? That thought’s enough to make me rev up the Fury again and start pushing toward the Green Zone. “Keep the defense steady, Martin. You know the orders. Fall back behind the walls of the zone if you have to. I’m going to be there.”

  Personal Recording of Devleena Kumar 13

  I’m busy busting someone’s breastplate in when Torres yells at me. “Sarge!”

  It’s almost irritating to get distracted, but I look her way and bark, “What?” But she doesn’t have to answer. I look around and realize a circle’s cleared out, like the sea parting, and there on the opposite end fro
m us is the general. To be completely honest, I expected him to stay locked in the fort, so when I see him, it’s kind of shocking. “Supreme General Yousef.”

  His eyes carve me up as he says, “First Sergeant Kumar and her girlfriend. Well, I never thought you fully bought into the mission of the fort. You know this is treason.”

  “The only one who’s turned their back on their people is you!” I scream as I charge at him. I tower over the guy, standing more than a few feet higher and with the sort of bulk that could absorb a cannon shell to chest. As I’m bringing my giant of a fist down at him, I’m expecting him to jump out of the way or dodge. I’m expecting him to move like lightning, and I’m already planning how I’m going to react to that.

  But he doesn’t dodge. He stands there as my fist’s rocketing right at his face. Then, when it’s just inches away, the world around him explodes in a golden aura. It’s so bright my visor surges for a second, the light overwhelming the sensors in my lenses. What I know is that, when my vision clears, he’s standing there with his hand out and holding back my fist. Even though I look like I could grab him in my palm, somehow he’s holding me back. His left eye is swirling with a golden circle as the energy around him burns along the ground, and then he moves. And when I say he moves, I mean I don’t even see it when he grabs me at the wrist. In that split second, I could swear he looks bigger, but I don’t have time to think about that before he pitches me over his shoulder and sends me crashing into the ground, dust exploding into the air as I slam into the pavement. Two tons of weight, thrown to the ground by someone who isn’t even wearing power armor. By the time I flip onto my stomach to push myself up, Torres has already launched herself at him, but Yousef goes running up her chest. His first foot hits her with enough force to send her arching backward, then his feet continue propelling him up her body until he flies into the air. Midway up, he flips himself around and comes flying back down with both hands. Closed together into a single clubbed hammer, his fists crash into her helmet and drive her back into the ground.

 

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