Assault or Attrition (17 page)

Peyton’s eyes
darted nervously between me and our captor. “What’s happening
here?”

“We’ve been
sold out,” I replied without averting my eyes from Valentina. “Care
to tell me how much?”

“Eleven
million,” she said flatly. “Thirteen if I include Peyton in the
package.”

“Not a round
number,” I noted. “Did you have to do much negotiating?”

Valentina
smirked and laced her fingers together, cracking her knuckles
overhead with an exaggerated stretch. “A little. Russian’s are
tough negotiators – even the pre-teen ones, apparently. There’s a
catch, though.”

“You need us
alive,” I added. It’s why Valeriya didn’t take out the entire
fortress when she had the chance – using her suicide bomber to
implode the entire compound. This was personal, and I was far more
valuable in one piece.

She nodded,
ever so slightly, and circled around the table towards Peyton.

“I think you
can stop right there.” I leveled my weapons and activated the power
core with the flick of my finger, spooling up the energy with a low
hum. It was the equivalent of cocking the hammer of a six-shooter
in the Old West – completely unnecessary, but the satisfying sound
sent a message loud and clear.

Valentina
scoffed. “Or
what, ‘
God Slayer’? You’ll shoot me?”

“Open the
doors,” I ordered, pressing the stock of the machine gun into my
shoulder. I lowered my head slightly, peering down the length of
the sight.

“
No
,”
she replied with a caustic sneer, taunting me like a petulant
child.

“Matt,” Peyton
urged, her widened eyes shrink-wrapped in tears. “please do
it.”

I considered
pulling the trigger in that moment, and then ran every possible
scenario through in my mind. Valentina never liked me, and never
made any attempt to pretend otherwise – but she loved money. I
could offer to outbid The Red Army, buy her back to my
side...although that would leave her with nowhere to turn. She had
to choose a side, and she had already made her decision. I had to
assume that this was a little personal on Valentina’s end as well:
cash a huge paycheck while sticking it to her boss – someone she’d
spent the last six months resenting. It was too tempting an offer
to pass up.

I didn’t know
if I had it in me. The resolve to end someone else’s life with the
simple squeeze of my finger. All the death and destruction I’d seen
in the Arena came flooding back, washing over my memory. The
gruesome slideshow of assorted horrors flicked by as a cold bead of
sweat formed in my hairline. I blinked hard, steeling my
resolve.

The diminutive
redhead took a threatening step towards me, hands spread wide. “He
wouldn’t dare, Peyton. He’s
weak
. Moxon acts like this big
man, ready to kick ass and take names, but when push comes to
shove, he’s nothing but a scared little fa—”

Valentina’s
words were cut off by a hailstorm of bullets slicing through her
body, tearing her suit to pieces. I held the trigger in place until
the thirty-round magazine had emptied into her chest and abdomen,
puncturing ragged holes through her body so wide I could see clear
through.

She didn’t fall
over.

She didn’t even
bleed.

Through her
torn jacket and shredded blouse the wounds mended themselves;
millions of water droplets converging into a gyrating, transparent
form. The flesh-colored tone returned as the reconstruction
completed, leaving no trace that any damage had been done.

She glanced
down at her bare midriff, and then back at me. “I’m billing you for
the suit.”

With an
extended palm she reached towards the fridge. The door sailed open
and the bottles flew across the room; they burst open in unison,
forming a pair of massive liquid tendrils. The lassoes were
extensions of her arms, lashing out and coiling around me, and then
Peyton. They tightened until we were locked into place, from our
necks to our ankles, powerless to move in straightjackets made of
water.

Valentina
glanced at her wrist-com while maintaining control of her water
streams. “I figure you have about ten, maybe fifteen minutes. If
you want to beg or make me a better offer, this is your
chance.”

“You don’t have
to do this,” Peyton whispered.

“You’re right,”
Valentina replied. “But I really,
really
want to. I gave
your boyfriend here every chance to increase my pay, give me a
bonus. He just wouldn’t listen to reason.” She laughed and shook
her head. With a sharp tug she pulled me closer, the liquid lasso
constricting even tighter around my ribcage, causing me to hack out
a painful cough. “I’m surprised you didn’t see this coming, smart
guy. Me, stabbing you in the back. You, being stuck here without a
weapon. Now you and your girlfriend are going to die in those
ridiculous matching suits.”

“I’ve been onto
you for a while,” I whispered, struggling to speak as the watery
coils constricted around my ribcage. I didn’t know for sure – I
couldn’t – but just in case my suspicions about Valentina were
correct, there was a feature that I’d quietly added to the armored
suits for an emergency situation. Ever since I heard that an
African warlord had paid her in blood money I knew the possibility
of betrayal was on the table, and if that day ever came I wanted to
be prepared; I figured it was better to have a weapon and not need
it than to need a weapon and not have it.

I glanced down
at my immobilized arms, and Valentina’s jaw fell slack as the
voice-activated command escaped my lips. “Stun guns.”

The electrical
charge shot through my gauntlets and into the water, giving me a
small jolt. The Smart Fiber suit protected me from the shock, as it
was designed to do. My former bodyguard wasn’t so fortunate. Five
million volts of electricity coursed through the watery tendril and
into her nervous system, forcing her into fits of convulsions.
Peyton took my cue and activated her stun guns a moment later,
compounding the effect.

Valentina flew
backwards, landing on the table in the center of the room. The
splashing water that surrounded her was shot through with a crimson
plume when the glass surface shattered.

Peyton and I
raced back towards The Vault.
It was a relatively short
distance but my legs ached, and the build-up of lactic acid burned
my thighs. I stopped and used the wall for support, gasping for air
as I bent at the waist.

Peyton froze
mid-stride when she realized I was no longer following behind. She
came to my side and rubbed her hand from the base of my neck down
the length of my back. “Matty, are you all right?” Through the
Smart Fiber suit I couldn’t feel the warmth of her hand, though the
gesture calmed my nerves.

Hunched over, I
watched as a bead of perspiration dropped from my hairline to the
toe of my boot. “I’m a little more out of shape than I thought,” I
panted. “No big deal.”

“That’s not
what I meant,” she replied softly.

“I know what
you meant.” I’ve killed before, and every time it was justified –
the only option left on the table. At least that’s what I kept
telling myself. Valentina forced my hand, and I reacted with the
safeguard I’d put in place for just that occasion. I’d pictured
that scenario – or at least a variation of it – when I first
suspected she might betray me. It just seemed more humane in my
imagination. Watching the reddened water pool around her body and
the shards of glass protruding from her abdomen...it brought
everything swarming back. I stood upright and pressed my back
against the wall. “When she hit the table, it reminded me—”

Peyton cupped
my face in her hands. “I know.” She pulled me closer until our
bodies met, throwing her arms around me as I buried my face into
her neck.

My sister. My
niece and nephew. Gavin. Peyton. This wasn’t going to end until
I’ve seen them all suffer the same fate as Valentina: lying prone,
cold and bloodstained, with their glassy eyes rolled into their
sockets. Gary was just the beginning, I was sure of it. And I would
be powerless, as I always was, to do anything about it.

As I caught my
breath, it also occurred to me that comic books had been lying to
me. While Iron Man and Batman had billions of dollars at their
disposal, all of the money and high-tech gadgets in the world
couldn’t compare to an
actual
superpower; a fact that was
made abundantly clear when I’d barely escaped with my life. I was
one
malfunction away. One glitch in my armor’s stun guns,
and it would have been over – Peyton and I would be in the hands of
the Red Army.

“We’ll make it
out of this,” she whispered, so close I could feel the heat of her
breath, lips gently brushing my cheek. “We’re survivors. I know
you’re scared, but I’m here for you.”

“I’m not
afraid,” I lied. “I’m fine.” I drew back when I heard a group of
footsteps clanking around the corner. Brynja, Chandler and Mac were
suited up, fitted into their Smart Fiber armor, clutching machine
guns they’d chosen from the armory. The two floating orange spheres
tethered by a long cord followed, hovering at their backs.

They’d seen the
events of the last few minutes unfold on a video feed; everything
from Valentina’s speech, to her ultimate demise. They offered a few
kind words, and London remarked that I looked particularly heroic
during the altercation – noting that my recent haircut came across
very well on the video.

While I
appreciated the sentiment, I’d already wasted too much time. We had
just minutes left until the main fortress was breached, and my
friends were looking to me for answers. The army that Valentina had
let in the back door were on their way – there was no way to stop
them. Our only options were to run, or try to hold our ground
against several thousand armed militants.

Mac quickly
suggested that we make a run for the hangar; we could take one of
the more heavily armored aircraft and attempt an escape.

“Let’s do it,”
Brynja quickly agreed. “Come on, we can be there in five.”

“What about the
staff?” Peyton pleaded. “We don’t even know where they are. What if
they don’t make it in time?”

“What if
we
don’t make it in time?” Brynja replied. “If we go now we
cut our losses. If we stick around we
all
die.”

Chandler
continually wiped his palms against his legs, unable to keep still.
“We can’t evacuate without all the...everyone. Present. And
accounted for. It’s procedure.”

“I’m with
Blue,” Mac blurted out, gesturing towards Brynja. “She’s right – we
make a run now, and—”

“Forget the
hangar,” I interrupted. “Valeriya would have thought of that.” It
was the most obvious route for escape, which is why it wasn’t going
to work. She would expect us to use a jet, and would no doubt be
prepared to slice it down the moment we took flight. She had at
least one superhuman at her disposal, and who knows how much
artillery.

I paced the
hallway for a moment, massaging my forehead. No one spoke. They
allowed me a wide berth and pressed their backs against the walls,
exchanging awkward glances as I passed them. That’s when it hit me.
“London, what’s the most heavily armored place in this
fortress?”

The spheres
projected a holographic rendering of Fortress 23, with a detailed
layout of every floor, from top to bottom. Within the glowing blue
framework a long, narrow shaft was highlighted in red, descending
several stories lower than the deepest subterranean level.

“Where the hell
is that?” Brynja asked, stepping closer to scrutinize the map.

“And why have
we never seen it before?” I added.

“
As
usual,”
London chirped,
“a brilliant and wonderfully
conceived query, Mister Moxon. This area is not accessible from the
main elevator. It was concealed by Mister Frost until construction
could be completed.”

“Construction?”
Chandler asked. He knew every square inch of Fortress 23 – or so he
thought – and was clearly perplexed at the notion that there was an
area he was unfamiliar with.

“
According
to my files,”
London explained,
“the project has been
codenamed ‘The Spiral’. A secondary construction crew has been
accessing the area through a six-mile tunnel that runs West of
Fortress 23. Their contract was terminated automatically in the
event of Mister Frost’s death, and their work ceased.”

“This is it,”
Peyton said brightly. “We go down to this Spiral room, run out the
tunnel and we’re free.”

Mac smiled,
clapping his hand victoriously. “This place is huge; those
jackasses will spend hours tearing it apart before they even know
we’re gone. I know a pilot in Vancouver who could be here within
the hour: we let him get close enough, give him the coordinates and
he picks us up in a forest clearing, well out of range from the Red
Army’s weapons.”

I nodded
slowly, cautiously weighing the options. “All right, but let’s not
break out the champagne just yet. I want everyone prepared for a
worst-case scenario. There could be patrols on the other end of
this tunnel, and if we run into resistance I want our asses
covered.”

I asked London
to notify the remaining three staff members – Judy, our resident
nurse, our IT specialist and our chef – and instructed them to
report to the main level immediately. They could generate their own
custom-fit armor at the 3D printer and meet us at the entrance to
The Spiral.

To access the
elevator that led down to the Spiral, we first needed to take the
stairs to the rooftop dome, and locate a large tree in the center
of the ecosystem. Amidst the palms and tropical fruit trees, I’d
always thought that a forty-foot weeping willow was slightly out of
place; the species was native to warm climates, but it stood out
among the landscape because it was the only one. It sat alone in a
clearing; it’s long green tendrils providing the perfect amount of
shade from the artificial sunlight that would pour in from
above.