by Russ Linton
Danger calmly unslung his rifle and crouched to cover the stairs. "Both of ya'll better get low."
Jackie still hadn't recovered. Augment powers didn't just flicker out, did they? Had this guy led them into a trap? She scanned the rooftop. The exposed stairwell was the only way up. The mountainside continued further, pulling far enough away from the building that there was no possible way to jump safely.
"Get low," Danger repeated, his eyes fixed on the landing at the top of the stairs. "But don't stand there."
Jackie backed up as the rooftop erupted into a shower of plaster. She shrieked and hopped further away, a trail of bullet holes tracking across the roof. Hound snagged her arm and pulled her closer.
"Hold still," he said.
A flicker and suddenly the village was awash in light. Street lamps mounted to buildings drove away shadows. A light at the top of the stairs clicked on and shed a dim wedge across them. Jackie instinctively shied away, but Hound held her in place. Another burst of bullets tore through the roof behind them.
Jackie gritted her teeth. Jacobs wouldn't have led them here. Any of those guys would have given their own lives to keep their fellow soldiers out of harm's way. Maybe she'd misread the situation. Being Augments, they had to have a different view of mortality. Normal humans were baggage, an incidental consideration. She'd known this since that day in the laundry room with her father.
"Are you trying to get us killed?" she asked.
Danger squeezed off a burst from a compact machine gun. Jackie flinched, and a man who'd tried to creep up the stairwell tumbled into the street. "It's like this, you do what I say. I..." he paused, as though not sure he wanted to answer her, "I do what the fucking Augmentation tells me."
Either he wanted to die, or he knew exactly when he was going to. Problem was, she sure as hell didn't know for herself. And he could cover the stairs all day, hold the roof against all comers but that wouldn't help. She'd taken her own aim from the surrounding hills. Everything was exposed. Mujahideen would soon be crawling up the slopes to overlook their glowing position on the roof.
Jackie squatted behind Danger and raised her camera. "Hide from this one, motherfucker."
She got him. The slippery Augment known as Danger even turned his head to smile, big and wide over his shoulder, his gun loose in his grip. An ominous shadow rose above Danger which didn't match the wan fixture on the roof.
A gun went off, too close to her ear. She cringed as Hound fired and followed his shot which struck another fighter intent on using the stairs. Dazed, the enemy had already aimed his rifle and committed. Jackie kept her camera level and returned fire in rapid bursts of her shutter.
Somebody better find these damn pictures, she thought.
An explosion blew her target airborne. Frame by frame she watched as the fighter's eyes grew wide and further away. He disappeared over the edge, flailing. Sound washed over her, a juttering frequency she could feel in her bones flowing after the pressure wave and causing her camera strap to flutter violently. She looked past Danger toward those deep shadows.
A terrifying angel of death hovered above. Even in the starlight, she recognized the ebony shell and the glittering facets of the Black Beetle.
Danger seemed suddenly at ease. Hound reloaded. The old soldier squinted in the right direction but appeared wary, unable or unwilling to snap into action.
"Long time," taunted the Beetle in his eerie voice.
Standing between Danger and Hound, she would take her last photo and likely die as this Augment hunter mowed them all down. His next victim could be Ember, whom she was so close to finding. Her escort might have frozen in fear, but she wasn't about to.
Jackie released her camera and snatched the handgun off Danger's hip.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The Black Beetle skirted sideways and then turned, deflecting rounds off its thick shoulders. She aimed lower.
"Seriously, Hound, tell her to—"
Uninterrupted, Jackie fired until the magazine was dry. The 9-millimeter rounds had only added to a collection of dents and blemishes, gray stars on a midnight carapace. Hound finally raised his hand to her wrist. His gentle touch forced her hand lower and lower as the firing mechanism clicked repeatedly. Helpless, they were helpless. Jackie let him pull the gun from her grip.
Were they not going to fight back, at all? Really?
"You've been busy, kid," Hound called out.
"Just got started here." A muffled conversation bled out over the suit's open microphone. "Get moving."
With a sudden burst and a roar, the battlefield behemoth swept over the roof, and a dazzling array of sparks showered his flight path. Jackie heard the whoosh of an RPG and ducked, covering her head as she'd always been taught. The rocket exploded midair, several yards away from the roof but close enough the heat of the blast washed over them.
"Knock it the fuck off!" shouted the Beetle, a message cycling in English, Arabic, and Pashto from the depths of the oversized helmet.
The Black Beetle soaked weapons fire from the village. His request continued to repeat as the battle armor returned deadly rounds. Flashes from rifles ended under a hail of bullets and rockets. A patch of mountain in the direction of a nearby village erupted in fire.
"You...you called the Black Beetle a 'kid' earlier," she said to Hound.
"Can't quite call him that anymore, I reckon." He watched the firefight with growing concern.
One of the Beetle's arms lazily swung their way, and she dug her fingers into Hound and Danger's shoulders, wanting to force them into motion. Her camera bounced impotently on her hip. She felt a tug, and in the back of her mind imagined it catching on Danger's gear.
A sound similar to a grenade launcher round issued from the Beetle and a trail of smoke followed. She heard a window of the house below them shatter, and soon smoke was seeping through the bullet holes in the roof. Several men and women emerged on the street below, gagging.
"Come on," said Danger. He swiped his gun from Hound and re-holstered it before jogging toward the stairs.
"What's going on?" Jackie asked Hound.
"I guess we're being rescued," he grunted. "Best we stay close to Danger."
Jackie caught an edge of uncertainty in that gravelly, unflappable voice. She fought off Hound's insistence long enough to raise her camera. Finger on the shutter, she aimed for the Beetle, swooping over the rooftops through intermittent pools of light. An icon flashed in the lower corner.
Her memory card. It was gone.
Danger jerked his chin her direction and swaggered down the stairs.
CHAPTER 35
DURING THE WAR, JETS would scream past announcing their presence several miles out. The noise was enough to drive everyone to cover. When it had reached its greatest pitch above a target, when the bombs struck, the villagers knew right then if they'd been elected for martyrdom. Relief could sneak in during the aftermath. That night, above Landigal, the shadow of death lingered.
Jackie felt the fear of the villagers. The helplessness.
Men died all around as they wove through the streets of Landigal. Those who fired at the Black Beetle, whether in fear or anger, soon regretted it. The path Danger led them down was scattered with dying and wounded men. Danger slowed to put a bullet in a man clinging to his rifle. Jackie felt Hound's grip on her arm tense, whether to steel or to reassure, she wasn't certain. All the while, the Black Beetle wove through the skies.
The roar of rocket wash filled the alleyways with an intermittent whine. Jackie caught glimpses of the machine above the narrow streets. She and the two soldiers slipped past sentries who watched the sky fearfully. More than once, Danger led them right past men too frightened to step out from the doorway or porch where they took cover.
Hound and Danger seemed sure they weren't targets, but Jackie couldn't believe them. She stumbled with every burst of gunfire, every throttle change of the rockets above. She kept stopping to look, not to frame a photo but to make sure she wasn
't in his sights.
Not long ago, she'd run through a swarm of bullets to retrieve a camera lens. The enemy there had been unseen, somehow made impersonal by the distance and the chaos. This presence was singular, real. And his target list had to include Ember.
Jackie's quest to confront her mother and see what would come of it, good or ill, had consumed her for so long, she couldn't let anything interfere. Angry, she secretly hoped for reconciliation. Tears, a chance to say her piece, and a fresh start would be the best possible scenario. But even if she lost her to this meeting, even if they never spoke again, they had to meet.
Nobody would take that from her.
On the outskirts of the village, Danger snagged a handful of drying laundry. Jackie couldn't help but think of the girls at the river as she ran. Whether they were safe inside, or whether they'd be caught in the crossfire like so many others.
She came to a full stop as they reached the stony banks of the river and turned to watch the village. Fire engulfed several buildings. Tracers continued to exchange between rooftops and the black sky. The mysterious tree, planted and nurtured by the Lady, burned in a vast orange plume of fire dripping flame wrapped branches and twigs onto the little house.
Hound and Danger both stopped to watch. The old warrior reached up to the radio clipped to his chest. "We're clear."
"Get clearer," came the voice. Over the radio, the creepy scrambler wasn't active. He did sound young, but hardened, an obvious edge to each word. "I'll follow."
To her surprise, Danger grimly smiled in the firelight.
SOMETIME BEFORE DAWN, they reached their packs. Absent the flight from death and the hot breath of the burning village, the strenuous hike created a slick chill on her sweat-soaked skin. Jackie searched the sky repeatedly trying to spot the fast-moving flare of rocket boots against the stars. The battle had wound down, but Landigal still burned in patches.
Silently, they retrieved their gear, and Hound struck out on a new course. They moved away from Landigal down the opposite slope, but not back the way they'd come. North, she guessed, not south. Danger handed each of them a wad of clothing as he passed to resume point. Once they were out of sight of the village, they stopped to put them on.
Jackie stretched held up the clothing she'd been handed. A firaq, the colors unrecognizable in the pre-dawn shadow. Hound worked his way into his own disguise.
"Best put it on."
Long and baggy, the firaq was a long-sleeved shirt which flowed out into a skirt. Jackie had never worn a dress. Her father had tried to convince her to at least once, and she hadn't spoken to him for two whole days. Even at his funeral, she'd not bothered with more than a pair of jeans. It wasn't like they had money for a proper service. He'd spent every spare dime on booze. Or college.
The fact he'd put away money for her at all had shocked her. She swore to him when she graduated, she'd wear a dress, a promise she hadn't kept. He'd died before he could see it. She was angry at him for that.
Once again Danger had disappeared into the darkness ahead, but Hound didn't seem worried. She dropped her pack to dig out her head scarf. If she was going to have to wear a damn dress, she might as well play the full part.
Hound wrestled into a long tunic. His shaggy head emerged, and she saw how this just might work. The weary soldier could pass for a native at a distance. His white beard had grown to an uncomfortable length, and she often caught him scratching his cheeks, no doubt wishing for a razor. Even camo pants and combat boots peeking out from the tunic only added to the illusion. Surplus military weapons and clothes had been flowing into the valley from one army or another for decades.
"Do you think we lost him?" she asked.
"Lost who? Beetle?" She nodded. His piercing stare made her uncomfortable, and she fussed with the firaq, waiting for his answer. "We might need him around. Freelancin' Heavies about, he's equipped to handle 'em."
"You mean kill them," she said.
Hound grimaced and turned his face to the night sky. He dug through the new clothes and found the radio clipped to his chest. "Guessin' you're still monitorin' this frequency. We'll need to meet up. Got a technical issue."
"You're calling to meet up? Why?" She demanded. "Why do we need him? You and Danger seem more than capable—"
"That cellphone. You got any way to break in?"
Jackie had almost forgotten about their one and only clue. An eye on the sky, she stooped and dug the phone out of her pack. A quick swipe and the screen lit requesting a PIN.
"Shit."
"It's okay. The kid knows his technology. He ain't gonna hurt us."
"You'll be fine." Danger emerged from the darkness wearing his own tunic and a pakol cap. His sniper rifle and pack weren't too out of place assuming the bases here had been heavily looted, but he wouldn't blend nearly as well.
She still couldn't accept their reassurances. The Black Beetle had been Nightly News growing up. Making demands and warring with Augments, she'd always wondered if he'd been part of the reason Ember never came home. A quick glance skyward and Jackie entered a random PIN into the phone. A curt vibration followed by a warning message told her she'd guessed incorrectly.
"I can get this," she said. "You came here looking for the Lady, right? Don't you have some kind of Top Secret profile? A few birthdays or anniversaries?"
Hound wagged his scruffy head. "Nothin'. And I came because I heard men got left behind."
"Don't lie to the girl, Hound," said Danger. "We got sent to investigate the rumors about this Lady because nobody's got any information on her, secret or otherwise. Saving her and her buddies on the hill wasn't the main objective. Everybody assumed ya'll were dead."
"I ain't lyin', and you know it. I wouldn't come here just to hunt Augments. They got their machine for that."
Right on cue, Jackie heard the whine of rockets careening eerily off the valley walls. Hound must've been listening to his approach.
"Wait! I got it." The date the bomb had destroyed the Lady's family. When was that air strike? So bent on revenge, that had to be the number she'd have chosen for a PIN.
She rummaged hastily through her camera equipment. She couldn't recall the exact date of the bombing run, but she had a photo stamped with time and day. She almost had her camera out when she remembered Danger had stolen her memory card.
Rockets drew closer. Twin flares of exhaust cleared the nearby hill. Jackie recalled countless times lying on her back and watching wayward meteors and satellites streak across whatever remote sky she found herself under. If only that's all this was.
"I need my memory card." She had more buried in her pack, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Maybe he’d take pity on her.
Danger paid no attention to her. His eyes were skyward, watching the Black Beetle descend. Allergic to any kind of peril, the man seemed oddly sedate as the white-hot burn whipped slender branches and brought down a rain of leaves and pine needles, some smoking and alight.
The noise had become loud enough she'd have to scream to be heard. Desperate, Jackie punched in a guess. Year, month, that was easy enough, but the exact day she could only narrow down to a week. One in seven chances they didn't need this asshole's help. After nearly dying in the base, she'd take those odds.
Incorrect PIN.
The Black Beetle landed, his rockets blinding, the wash unpleasantly warm even in the brisk air. Jackie moved away, searching for cover. Tree trunks and a few large rocks made some empty promises but better than nothing if these guys started going at it.
"Hound. Danger. Nice threads. You look like a couple of revolutionary mushrooms."
Danger adjusted the pakol atop his head and pursed his lips. "Been fed enough bullshit in my time, Kid Crimson. Probably ain't far off."
The Black Beetle chuckled, the sound chopped and into a metallic buzz by the voice scrambler. The exchange was enough to make Jackie slow her race for cover. Hound had his own pet name for this guy, and Danger too. They were more than acquaintances.
&n
bsp; Maybe she had it all wrong. Could be they were all working together to hunt Augments in the first place. What the hell had she gotten herself into?
"What's this technical problem you mentioned?" asked the Beetle.
Hound put out a hand for the phone. Casual, unconcerned, he only looked her way when Jackie didn't move toward him. His nose twitched. "It's okay. We've worked together before."
"You and the Black Beetle? What the hell is going on?"
"Ummm...yeah." Buzzed the Black Beetle. "What is going on, Hound? Who is this? She kinda looks familiar, but I'm not sure we've met."
"She's a stray we picked up at the base. A reporter."
"Great," came the Beetle's reply. "My guess is the phone she's got is a lead to whoever might be cranking out Augments."
"It is," she said. "And I'd smash it to bits before I hand it to you."
"Real helpful," said the Black Beetle, his casual tone not at all matching the menacing voice scrambler or her memories of his monologues when he'd hijack entire television stations for his messages of world domination. "I'll let you deal with her, I've got my own leads."
One clawed hand extended, and a mass of electronics and propellers dropped to the ground. Enough light had crept into the valley Jackie could see a remote-controlled drone at the Beetle's feet. They had become all the rage for war journalists and armies alike. When a firefight began, the sky hummed with the miniature camera platforms, thick like clouds of mosquitoes.
This one had seen better days. The battery had been removed. In the process, the entire housing had been crushed. Hound shined his light on the damaged case, and she saw a symbol she recognized: The Collective.
The shadowy hacker group had been a surprise to everyone except frontline journalists. Their symbol had been popping up throughout the Middle East. She personally suspected a link with the Mujahideen active in those areas, but her editors hadn't been willing to add yet another combatant to the growing collection of acronyms embroiled in the region without solid details. Highly technical and out of the limelight didn't sell papers or web subscriptions.