Outriders (26 page)

“Roger that,” Lincoln said. “Sixty seconds, then bump it again.”

“How long?” Thumper asked.

“Make it ten.”

A minute passed, and right on schedule the power went out once more. Ten seconds later, it was back online.

“All right, everyone hold tight, let me know what you see,” Lincoln said. He scanned the target building through a slender handheld optic, a multifunction device that he’d currently set to track thermal signatures. The first bump hadn’t attracted too much attention, but the second one caused some mild stirring amongst the Apsis personnel inside. There were six signatures total in the building; two of them had been sitting in a small room on the ground floor, but now one was up, moving towards the front door.

“One man, moving to the front door,” Lincoln said. He tapped a button on his optic, designated the man’s signature for tracking.

“Roger, good track,” Thumper answered over comms. Veronica locked on the signature, shared it out to the rest of the team.

“Two tangos, north side,” Mike said. He was set up in an elevated position a couple of buildings away, watching the front of the target building. “Crossing towards Puck. Looks like… OK, yeah, they’re meeting up with your guy now at the front door.”

There were three ground level entrances to Puck; front, rear, and a basement entry on the right side. Sahil was stationed a few blocks over, waiting in the second car Mike had procured.

“Sahil, what’s it like on your side?” Lincoln asked.

“Quiet,” he said. “If anybody noticed the blip, don’t seem to have bothered ’em much.”

“Rear entrance is still clear outside,” Lincoln said. “Thumper, bump it one more time, then give ’em a dose.”

“How big?”

“Flood it.”

“Roger that. Keep your heads down.”

The power flickered, and the lights dimmed to half output for a few seconds before returning to full strength.

“You’re probably going to be seeing some activity here in a second,” Thumper said. “Maybe a lot.”

Sure enough, personnel inside the building scrambled up, and moments later two pairs of previously undetected watchers on the outside rushed in, converging on Puck.

“Well that woke ’em up,” Wright said.

“I’d guess so,” Thumper replied. “I just fed their sensor network eighty-five contacts.”

“Count ’em and mark ’em,” Lincoln said. He scanned and targeted each of the responding individuals, keeping a tally of those he could find from his vantage. Inside, four people were moving with purpose, not counting the guy at the front door who was in a half crouch. That made five inside, and six outside. Eleven hostiles. One individual, however, was merely sitting up in bed. “And that’s our man Prakoso,” Lincoln said, designating the man in a corner room on the third floor.

“Roger that, I count eleven hostiles, one VIP,” Mike said.

“I confirm eleven hostiles, one VIP,” Thumper echoed. “Marked and tracked.”

Lincoln lowered the optic and activated his augmented vision. Each of the eleven Apsis personnel now had bright red brackets highlighting them, while Prakoso was represented by a white circle.

“Confirm track,” Lincoln said.

“Yep, got it,” Mike said.

“Drop it off, Thumper,” Mike said.

“Copy that,” she answered. “Sensors should be showing clear now.”

The activity inside and around the building slowed and separated, as each Apsis employee reacted to the sudden all-clear.

“Give them about thirty seconds,” Lincoln said. “Then bump the power again.”

Thumper did as requested, shutting the power off completely again thirty seconds later.

“Let ’em simmer for a bit on this one.”

For the next half hour or so, Thumper continued the manipulation with a variety of patterns; sometimes power was completely down, sometimes it was back to normal, sometimes it was inbetween. And, at any given moment, their sensors might show anything from being completely clear to a full-out siege on Puck, or any one of the surrounding buildings. She was careful not to focus too much attention on Puck itself, but she also didn’t ignore it completely.

The Apsis personnel spent some of that time geared up, checking doors, windows, and their principal. But after a while they relaxed, started forming little clusters. One of them eventually broke off and went back to bed.

“All right, that’s our signal,” Lincoln said. Other guards drifted off, including some of those that had been out on the perimeter.

“You’ve got an extra in there,” Mike said. Lincoln did a quick count, and sure enough, not everyone who’d come in from the outside had left the safehouse. One stayed behind, bringing the total to six potential hostiles in the building. Three against one. Bad odds for anyone without close air support. Three of them returned to the sitting room on the ground floor while the rest headed back up to their bedrooms.

“That seems like a lot of guys to babysit one dude,” Mike said.

Thumper cut in. “If Prakoso’s working from home, he’s probably sitting on a lot of choice gear. All that force might not be just for him.”

“If you say so,” Mike replied. “Still seems like a lot of guys, though.”

“We’ll just have to keep it nice and quiet,” Lincoln said. “Gemini, ready to move.” The codename was a convenience as well as a safety precaution; Gemini meant both Wright and himself, and there was less chance that one of them might slip a name while inside, where audio surveillance might be online. Thumper cut the power again, dousing the street in darkness.

“Copy that,” Thumper said. “West approach is clear for you to move.”

“Roger, Gemini moving to target.”

“Gemini moving, copy.”

Lincoln slipped out of his hiding place and moved to the corner of the building across the street from Puck, then dropped to a crouch. A few moments later, Wright stepped in behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. Lincoln counted to five, then patted Wright’s hand, and together they crossed the open space to Puck. They tucked in close against the wall, just beneath a narrow window. This side of the building had no door, which made it likely that it was the least guarded entry point. The street outside Puck had a steep grade, and the window here was about eight feet above the ground.

Without speaking, Lincoln knelt down and braced himself against the building. Wright used his leg as a step stool, then stepped up on his shoulder, and affixed a slender device to the window frame. That done, she stepped back down and gave him an OK sign.

“Gemini ready to make entry,” he whispered.

“Ready for entry, roger,” Thumper said. “Thirty-second window, on your mark.”

Lincoln looked up at Wright; her face had a slight shimmer caused by the light-intensifying protocols in Lincoln’s augmented vision. She nodded once.

“Mark,” he whispered.

“Thirty seconds starts… now,” Thumper said. And on her final word, the streetlights came back up at half intensity. Immediately, Wright stepped forward and Lincoln boosted her to the window. He held her steady for a few moments, until a quick hiss like air escaping from a torn e-suit signaled that she’d breached the locking mechanism. She lifted herself off him and he looked up in time to see her feet disappearing through the window. Ten seconds later, she reappeared, stretching her arms down to him. The cylindrical bundle he was carrying on his back made the movement more awkward than it normally would have been, but together they got him through the window with hardly any noise.

“Ten seconds,” Thumper said.

Lincoln drew into a corner of the corridor, pistol at the ready, aimed down the hall towards the three marked hostiles just two doors away. Wright slid the window shut, resecured the lock.

“Five seconds,” Thumper said.

“We’re in,” Lincoln answered. After twenty seconds or so of waiting, the hostiles down the hall still hadn’t made any move to investigate the window. Obviously Lincoln would have preferred to do the whole thing with the power out, but Thumper had insisted that flickering it on and off was the best way to keep her manipulation of the sensors undetected. Lincoln didn’t have any way to see what she was doing to Apsis’s sensor displays, but there was no question she’d done a good job of conditioning the bad guys to ignore their own alerts.

“From the first floor window, first door on your left, through the room, up the stairs at the back,” Thumper directed, calmly directing them through the plan for clarity. They’d all memorized the layout, of course, but having the confirmation let Lincoln keep his mind focused on the immediate.

Wright slid in beside him. Confident that their entry had gone unnoticed, Lincoln came up in a high crouch, weapon ready, and moved down the hall with quick, light steps. The door was open at the first room on the left. Lincoln paused at the door frame, checked over his shoulder to make sure Wright had the hall covered. Of course she did.

Lincoln carefully peeked into the room, got as much of a view of it as he could without risking exposure. His augmented vision wasn’t showing any marked hostiles in there, but that didn’t guarantee anything. Could be they just hadn’t found them yet. But what he could see of the room was clear. Without taking his eyes off the room or lowering his weapon, he reached back and tapped Wright’s lower leg. She responded with a hand on his shoulder. When she squeezed, he pushed aggressively into the room with her right on his heels, each checking the corners and moving rapidly through to the stairwell at the back. The room was clear.

At the bottom of the staircase, Wright turned and covered the door while Lincoln edged around and verified there was no one on the stairs. Also clear. He patted Wright’s shoulder, and started up. She sidestepped then backpedaled up the first few stairs, keeping her pistol trained on the door until they’d moved far enough upstairs.

“Continue up the stairs to the third floor,” Thumper said. “The VIP is in the last room on the right.”

Lincoln and Wright reached the top of the stairs, and paused. The stairwell led out right into the hallway, and two Apsis guards were stationed on this floor, one on each side of the hall. At the moment, they both appeared to be sleeping. The stairs to the second floor were beneath those to the third, so Lincoln and Wright moved into the hall, then doubled back to reach the base of the next staircase. Lincoln again led the way, while Wright covered their rear.

“Gemini, moving to third floor,” Lincoln whispered, once he’d checked the stairs.

“Gemini moving to third, copy,” Thumper repeated.

“Careful, Gemini,” Mike said over comms. “Looks like you got a restless sleeper up there. Hostile’s fidgety.”

“VIP?” Lincoln asked.

“Hasn’t moved. But it’s weird. Kinda looks like he’s sleeping sitting up.”

Lincoln’s view was only tracking the location of the other people in the building, so he didn’t have a good view of the guard in question or of Prakoso. But Mike, with his powerful optic, was likely seeing the full heat signatures and had a better read on what was happening up on the top floor.

“Keep me posted,” Lincoln said, as he ascended. Fortunately, the doors on both sides of the hall were closed.

“Last room on the right,” Thumper reminded.

Lincoln moved silently down the hall, Wright shadowing his every step. At the last room, Wright swiveled and kept her weapon aimed at the door of the guard’s room. Lincoln touched the door handle, slowly, slowly applied pressure. It was unlocked.

“Update on VIP?” Lincoln asked.

“Still hasn’t moved,” Mike said. “Make it quick, though, your friend down the hall just got out of bed.”

“Gemini to target,” Lincoln whispered. “Bump it, full black. Two minutes.”

“Two minutes, copy,” Thumper said. A moment later the power went completely out. Lincoln nudged Wright, and she pressed back against his shoulder. He squeezed the grip of his weapon, activating a low-intensity red light underneath. When he pushed the door open, Wright rolled smoothly in behind him. In a quick, precise motion, Lincoln checked left with his pistol and swept it to center, sweeping the room with the red light and looking for threats.

When it came to rest on the VIP, Lincoln was surprised to see the man sitting at the foot of the bed with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes wide open. He was even dressed. Wright closed the door behind Lincoln, and the man didn’t move at all.

“Yayan Prakoso,” Lincoln said quietly. The man didn’t respond, he just sat there with his hands in his lap, paralyzed in the red light. “Yayan Prakoso?” Lincoln repeated. The man gave a short nod. “It’s OK, we’re friends.”

“I have no friends,” Prakoso answered.

“Well you do today, buddy,” Lincoln answered. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Prakoso didn’t respond. He was small framed, and his wild hair and beard made him look almost cartoonish in his proportions.

“Tango, tango,” Mike said, his voice calm but with an obvious note of urgency. “Bad guy just left his room, headed your way.”

Lincoln motioned sharply to Wright, directed her to the closet by the door. She understood and moved there immediately, out of sight of the door, and kept her pistol trained on Prakoso.

“Shhh,” Lincoln said, as he slid over by the door. If the guard opened it partially, Lincoln could stay hidden behind it. If he opened it all the way, though… Lincoln tucked in on himself, kept his weapon pressed high against his chest with the muzzle down, ready to make a close-range snap shot if it became necessary. In his vision, the brackets marking the hostile floated down the hall towards him, paused outside the door.

Don’t,
Lincoln thought.
Don’t do it, buddy. Keep on walking.

He was disappointed. The handle of the door turned; a burst of white light spotlighted Prakoso on the bed.

“What’re you doin’?” a gruff voice said with a hint of Russian accent.

Prakoso squinted his eyes against the light, but he kept them locked forward on the man at the door. Lincoln brought his weapon up, the muzzle nearly touching the door. The door itself seemed to be made of some cheap plastic composite, and Lincoln was counting on it being hollow rather than filled. The first gel round likely wouldn’t have enough velocity to penetrate and still be effective, but a followup shot or two probably would. Probably.