Project Northwoods (96 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Charles Bruce

BOOK: Project Northwoods
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Bullets continued to smash on the shield when she looked at Mast. “I need to get inside! Archetype is planning something!”

Mast nodded as the bullets slowed and then stopped. Zombress dropped the shield and watched as the search drone was pelted by something above it. A second drone was chasing a news helicopter as it dove, seemingly impervious to harm as it barrel rolled impossibly through the storm of bullets. The stream, however, did not divert around the drone below it, slamming into the fuselage with enough force to cause it to wobble and vomit smoke from damaged components. The helicopter pulled out of the dive and flew off, its pursuing search drone adjusting course.

The damaged drone floated lazily in place, stabilized, and fired a rocket at the two on the roof. Free to focus, Zombress carved a symbol into the air and leapt through it, time slowing to a crawl as she intercepted the rocket, grabbed hold of it, and swung on top of it. She carved a few glowing runes in the air and swept her hands through them.

Reaching down and grasping the warhead, she pitched her body forward, her hands working as a pivot as her augmented momentum diverted the missile’s path back toward the search drone. With a clank, she was once again on top of the projectile. Time sped up, and her unorthodox transportation blasted above the weapon platform. She carved another sigil into the air, halting the rocket in its path, grabbing it, and spiking it downward into the machine.

The blow made the drone wobble as Zombress landed on top of it, the rocket’s engine sputtering. “All out of juice already?” she asked, rearing back with one hand as she summoned another sigil with the other. Her arced hand glowed purple, and she swung it forward, detonating the embedded missile.

The top of the search drone erupted in a brilliant fireball as Zombress backflipped off it, landing on the roof as whatever remained of the electronic brain fought, in vain, to keep the weapon afloat. It spun, throwing smoke into the air in a whirl, before crashing into the roof. She looked back at Mast.

“I thought you were holding back!” she shouted, silhouetted by the downed drone.

“I am,” came the response. The agent waved her on and, in a puff of black miasma, she was running into the Guild.

“One down, boy!” Cleese shouted at the fireball on the roof.

“Let’s just hope no one’s in any of these buildings getting shot up!” Marsh shouted as another barrel roll made him almost drop his gun.

“You worry too much!” Cleese barked as he took another pull from his bottle of sherry. He pulled the helicopter up into a climb, a move matched by his pursuer. “Persistent bugger, aren’t you?”

“Can you get behind it again?” Marsh asked, finally just pulling himself to the cockpit.

Jack smiled at him. “There isn’t a machine created better at flying than Spitfire.”

Zealot batted an Enforcer aside as he penetrated the line of fighters. Aquaria had prepared for him and tossed a globe of water. The attack was telegraphed and slow, allowing for a quick sidestep and lunge, closing the distance. He was on her, grasping her by the neck. His pulse quickened in excitement as she grasped at his hand, no doubt wondering why she couldn’t use her ability to free herself.

An Enforcer leapt at him, but Zealot merely straight punched him in the face, feeling his skull shatter from the impact. “What do you hope to accomplish here?” He squeezed, watching Aquaria’s face blanch. “The annihilation of all your allies?” Her hands were twitching, motioning to something. His eyes fell to the ground, to the water which was now pooling at his feet and…
It’s climbing my suit. How could she focus?
“What?” he shouted, his voice surging.

Aquaria’s eyes flicked to her right, and Zealot followed her gaze. A vision from his past, Elisa Brown… no, her daughter, Ariana… running toward him. Only this time, a stun baton was sparking, trailing blue through the air as she cocked her arm and threw the weapon, sending it into the water at his feet.

He threw the traitor into the fountain, her head slamming against the central pillar as soon as the electricity ripped its way into his body. Zealot convulsed and dropped to one knee as the baton expended its charge. He twitched, the suit steaming and smoking from the blow.
How could this have happened?

As soon as his legs responded to him, he rose and charged at Ariana, snatching her by the neck and lifting her into the air with his left hand. His body stopped spasming, a fact he greeted by whipping the girl around like a toy. “Like daughter, like mother, eh?” he mocked as the woman kicked weakly at him. “Don’t be like that,” he said. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed her downward, the impact dislocating her shoulder and making her cry out. “Oops.”

Mast turned away from the fallen search drone. Shaking and clutching her bloodied throat, Siren pulled herself upright. She grimaced at Mast, held her hand out, and summoned a burst of feedback in Mast’s ears, but faltered. The agent leveled her pistol at the SERAPHIM…

… When the air exploded with a scream, bowling over Siren and tossing Thanatos about. Immediately, the air felt pressurized, as though under a foreign power. Athena rose to her feet, rage pulsing off of her. Her head snapped up, eyes white. “I. Will. End! You!” Her hands flashed up, and something screeched behind Mast in response. The agent turned to see the fallen helicopter’s blades struggling against their bearings and popping their brackets. A final shriek of metal and they ripped free, levitating and twirling faster and faster before flinging themselves at Mast.

She hit the ground as they sailed overhead, arced upward, and swept down toward the rooftop. Mast scrambled upright and ran.

Enforcers were trying to distract Zealot from Ariana, but nothing fazed the metal giant. If any of them got close enough to register a hit, he would pound them aside and stride toward Ariana, smashing her through the air with a boot to her gut. “Revenge gets such a bad reputation,” Zealot mused as Ariana landed with a crunch on her already damaged shoulder. “I blame villains for that.”

She tried to crawl away, get some distance between them. Despite the punishment she was receiving, she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing her cry or beg. With a cough, blood spattered on the pavement as she struggled to get away.

Zealot grabbed her by the back of the neck and flipped her over, pinning her beneath his hand. He raised the other into the air and showed her his palm. “Do you see this? This is the true legacy of your father. Not some Tier One bimbo. Not your mother’s death. But the means to make me whole again.” Blue liquid filled the bubble in his hand, and he squeezed her throat tight enough for her to feel something rupture. “This fixes everything… makes me feel…”

Something exploded over him with enough force to throw him off Ariana. Immediately, she gasped in air and started choking on the blood trickling down her throat. Water cascaded over her as Morgan went after Zealot, spears and arrows of liquid smashing into his armor as she ran toward him with a bat of water in her hands.

Mast dove to the right as the vertical helicopter blades whipped by, nearly hitting the rooftop. Again, the things hurled themselves up in the air for another pass. She turned toward Athena and sprinted, only to stop when her eardrums erupted with discordant chaos. Siren was stumbling toward her, hands outstretched, her neck uncovered and bleeding. She turned to Athena. “Get her now!”

Mast turned and ran, fighting through the pain her own footsteps were causing. Siren turned back to face her, surprised by the agent’s escape. The SERAPHIM braced for impact, digging her heels into the rooftop. Even through the distortion of Siren’s power, Mast knew the blades were closing in. Near enough, she leapt at her opponent, landing a foot on the woman’s knee. She leapt up and backflipped, smashing Siren’s face with her boot.

The mercenary went down as Mast got enough height to propel herself above the blades as they sailed beneath her. She reached the height of her jump and fired her gun, the bullet smashing into Siren’s skull. The agent hit the ground gracelessly on her stomach, and was immediately kicked upright by Thanatos. She landed on her feet, stumbling backward as the hero moved toward her.

“You fucking cunt!” she screamed as she grabbed Mast and punched her straight in the face. Tendrils of agony washed over her as Thanatos grappled her. Mast dropped her gun in her effort to extricate herself.

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