Psion Gamma (40 page)

“Did you hear me?”

Toad nodded.

Sammy looked out the hangar. The cruiser would be landing in less than three minutes.

“What’s our plan now?” one man asked Thomas.

Sammy, used to being the one to come up with great schemes, set his brain in gear but felt only the familiar emptiness he’d come to associate with the loss of his anomaly.

Thomas drew himself to his full height. “Close that door,” he ordered with the same commanding presence and voice as his son. “At any moment our enemy is going to come through here along with who knows how much security from the base. Our goal is to get Sammy and Toad out of here. To do that we need to clear the runway. Clear the runway. Understand me? This is kill or be killed. When you run out of ammo, which I’m sure you will employ sparingly, use whatever you can find. Throw anything you can at them. This will either be the resistance’s finest or final hour. Do not let yourself be captured alive.”

“Will the other teams be coming to help?” someone called out.

“We can only hope,” Thomas answered.

Sammy took cover behind a small tool cart with Thomas and Stewart.

He saw a broken pipe with a sharp, broken edge and gave it to Toad. “Focus on defending yourself. Let me take care of the rest.”

BOOM
!

One of the big hangar doors gave a violent shudder and wobbled in its track. Screeches and yells muffled through the door and reached Sammy’s ears.

“They’re coming,” he whispered to himself.

A small rush passed through his body. He hadn’t felt this alive since the factory. As he gripped the nail gun tightly in his hands, every muscle and joint tensed itself, ready to spring into action the moment called upon. This was what Byron had prepared him for.

BOOM
!

The door bent inwards but did not break. In the corner of his eye, Sammy saw something shaking. He turned and saw Toad’s hands trembling visibly, tears leaking from his eyes.

“Just remember to take cover if they shoot at you,” Sammy said. “Like I taught you. Use your speed to your advantage. None of them can match your speed.”

BOOM
!

Flame rose up through a great seam in the bottom of the door and rent the door in two, peeling inward along the tear. A small object no bigger than a golf ball flew in through the crack.

Dink
.

It bounced once on the cement floor before Sammy recognized it as a round grill canister—a smoke or gas bomb.

Probably filled with nerve gas
.

He took careful aim and shot a hand blast at the canister. It stopped mid-air and bounced again on the cement. He quickly blasted twice more, forcing the canister back out the crack. Through the door, Sammy heard a sharp yell and a foot kicked the canister down the runway. Then the battle began.

Two body-length plastic shields emerged through the breached door carried by two Aegis in their green-brown uniforms. A third Aegis crouched behind them. All three shot into the hangar. Any resistance fighter not already behind cover moved quickly to find some. The Aegis were virtually untouchable as they worked their way in with their backs to the wall, making room for others to enter the hangar.

It wasn’t like the last time Sammy had battled the Thirteens. They had attacked swiftly and without warning, overwhelming them with their numbers. This was different.

Why are they making such a show of entering the building?
Sammy wondered.

He remembered the sims, how the Thirteens always tried to surround him.

“Come with me,” he told Toad.

“Where are we going?”

Sammy didn’t waste time answering. He left his post and ran, still barefoot, down the hangar. Toad followed behind. An old bomber under reconstruction was parked not far from a door opening to a hallway extending toward the back of the building. A service ladder stood next to the plane. Sammy checked to make sure it was firmly attached at the top. Once certain, he sprang up the ladder and walked across the top until he came to the plane’s vertical stabilizer. Toad climbed up with him.

Sammy crept along the stabilizer until he had a clear view of the door. Toad leaned over Sammy’s shoulder to get a look.

“You think more will come through there?”

Sammy nodded.

Within a minute, the doorknob turned. A head poked out searching left and right, but not top to bottom. A man in a military police uniform came through the door, his weapon ready for assault.

“See?” he whispered to Toad. “The Thirteens will come in from the front, while security sneaks up from behind.” Another man and woman came next. Sammy took careful aim with the nail gun.

Spit! Spit! Spit! Spit!

One guard received a nail through the ear, the next in the throat. The third guard reacted quickly, and Sammy missed. Sammy ducked down, lying flat on his belly. He shimmied slowly toward the end of the plane and fired again.

Spit! Spit!

A nail went into the guard’s chest, close to his heart. The guard dropped his weapon and grabbed the wound.

 “Take one of those weapons for yourself and take the other two back to the team,” Sammy told Toad. “Stay under cover as much as you can while you move.”

Toad nodded and turned to leave.

“I’ll come find you as soon as I know this way is clear.”

Toad climbed down the ladder while Sammy jumped off the edge of the plane and landed near the door. He threw open the door and pointed the nail gun down the hall. No sign of security. He ran back into the hangar, away from the battle, until he came to a second hall. Two more security guards were coming in. Sammy rendered one of them unconscious with a nasty blow to the side of the head, then dropped the other by blasting him into the wall. Gunshots rang out behind him as the resistance opened fire on the invading enemy.

He had one more hall to check.

Sammy opened the door and took a few steps into the dark corridor. A strange sensation crept over him, telling him he wasn’t alone. It was like an awful restlessness starting between his shoulder blades and spreading over his back. He came to a bend in the hall and stopped at the corner. Leaning his back against the wall, he readied himself for his next move. In a whirl, he rounded the corner, shielding with gun at the ready.

A woman jumped back from him, screaming in alarm. Sammy froze in surprise. The woman was incredibly beautiful with long hair so dark it was almost raven black and naturally tanned skin—perfectly tanned, now that he thought about it. And she was tall, too, almost as tall as Sammy. Her body was flat against the wall and her head snapped toward him.

Her eyes, wide in fright, were a very dark blue, but devoid of any red coloring typical of Thirteens. Either she was an Aegis in casual clothes, or a civilian.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer right away. He was still caught off guard by the magnificence of the woman standing in front of him.

“Uh . . . who are you?” He lowered his gun, but kept his blasting hand ready.

“I’m . . .” she said breathlessly. “My husband works nights here. I heard shooting.” She looked him up and down, and he realized he must look ridiculous with a nail gun.

“You’d better go. There’s a break in.”
And I’m the one breaking in
. He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm.

“Can you walk me out?” Her voice had an overtone of pleading to it. He looked back into her eyes, which looked like the color of an ocean at night. He didn’t see the same fear there that he heard in her voice.

He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t trust her. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

She tugged his arm again. “Come on, Sammy.” Her phony scared face melted into a flirtatious smile. She puckered her lips at him. “Walk me out, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Sammy ripped his arm from her grasp and brought his gun up to shoot. Her left hand emerged from behind her with a jigger.

“Mine’s better than yours.”

Sammy gazed back at her and found that the darker side of him did not mind bantering at all. “One Thirteen. That’s child’s play. You can even have my gun.” He offered her the nail gun with a smirk.

The woman laughed. It chilled Sammy like putting his feet in ice water. He heard her confidence, and it made him nervous.

Why isn’t she afraid?

“Keep it. I’ve studied up on you, buddy. You probably think you’re hot stuff, but the ones you killed in that factory . . . amateurs.”

“I doubt that.” He pulled the trigger and sent a blast from his left hand; he wanted as much distance from her as he could get.

She fired, too. The braxel fell harmlessly to the floor, and Sammy’s blast launched her down the hall. Sammy was impressed to see her neatly tuck her body down and make a graceful landing a few meters away. He expected her to retaliate, attack him as he had seen before, but she stood there calmly waiting for him to make a move. His muscles tensed—he prepared to launch himself at her. Then a thought struck his mind:
Toad.

She’s keeping me from the main battle, where I need to be.

He turned and sprinted back to the hangar, shielding himself from behind as he ran.

May 3, 2086

T
HE HANGAR WAS CHAOS
. Sammy mentally beat himself up for spending precious time away from the fight. He looked around the hangar frantically for Toad but saw no sign of his friend.

The resistance was pinned. A couple of Thirteens and several Aegis, with their large plastic shields, had taken spots around the perimeter of the hangar, trying to form a ring of death around Thomas’ men. Many of the resistance members were hidden at strong defensive points near the legs of cruisers and jets, but Sammy saw two of their own on the floor motionless, with dark red puddles beneath them. This defense would not last long. Already the Thirteens were climbing up the hulls of aircraft, gaining superior positions of attack. One was atop the same bomber Sammy and Toad had taken refuge on only a few minutes ago. Sammy launched himself to the top of the jet, and the Thirteen turned to greet him. He was a short, tanned man with tiger stripes carved into his skin.

Sammy sent strong blasts at the Thirteen. He sidestepped them, but the ricochet off the vertical stabilizer spun him around. He quickly caught his footing and fired several rounds at Sammy from two automatic handguns. Sammy jumped over the spray of bullets and retaliated with more hand blasts, but they were just as easily evaded. Sammy stayed in the air as much as possible, using his nail gun and left hand as both offensive and defensive weapons.

He waited for the impending reload moment, when he typically took advantage of a toothless Thirteen. When it came, the Thirteen reloaded so fast that Sammy had no opportunity to strike. He sent a blast at the Thirteen, followed immediately by a nail. The Thirteen dodged the blast, but the nail got him in the arm. He jumped at the Thirteen with feet blasts, ready to shield should the Thirteen fire at him, but instead the Thirteen timed Sammy’s attack perfectly and smacked him hard across the face with the back of his hand.

Off balance, but now too close to the Thirteen to be anything but deadly, Sammy fired his blasts at the same time the Thirteen fired his gun. His blasts blocked the bullets and knocked the Thirteen off the plane, still firing as he fell.

Sammy shielded the round of volleys aimed at his chest and head. Rolling low to a new position behind the cover of the vertical stabilizer, he took aim again and fired the nail gun.

Spit! Spit!

Two nails poked out of the Thirteen. One embedded in his stomach, the other in his groin. The Thirteen doubled over, clutching his crotch. Sammy aimed at the Thirteen’s head. The Thirteen smiled back as though Sammy had just told him the greatest joke in the whole world. The nail went into the Thirteen’s eye and his head dropped to the floor.

Forgetting Toad for a moment, Sammy looked for the woman he thought of as “Beauty.” Then, with a loud shriek, an Aegis spun around and faced Sammy. Two more followed his lead. They moved toward him behind their shields. From the other end of the hangar, Sammy heard noises and, at the same time, Beauty emerged from the hallway with four other Thirteens. Sammy cursed softly.

Where are you, Toad?

Then, in the cockpit of the cruiser closest to Beauty and her Thirteens, Sammy saw his friend. Behind the glass, Toad jumped and waved his arms like mad trying to get Sammy’s attention. Sammy doubted that the Thirteens had seen Toad yet, but they were much closer to Toad than he was.

Small cheers erupted from the resistance. Sammy peeked around the stabilizer and saw more resistance arriving from the blown hangar door: at least ten more men and women, all armed. The three Aegis turned to meet the new wave of help.

Sammy jumped off the jet and raced down the hangar toward Toad.

* * * * * * *

Commander Byron sat in the co-pilot seat of the stealth cruiser anxiously patting his hands on his knees in a mindless rhythm.

“Prepare for evacuation,” the Elite pilot announced, probably sensing Byron’s impatience. Even now, en route to Omaha, it seemed too good to be true. But he knew Samuel was there. He knew the message was meant for him. No doubt in his mind.

But how?

He looked back at Tango Squadron, undersized for what could potentially be a combat mission, but all he could bring under the circumstances. General Wu had chewed Byron’s backside for almost an hour. Byron had never seen him so angry. Despite all this, he still hadn’t told the general about a possible mole in the Psion ranks.

Not now. Concentrate on the task at hand.

If anything else went wrong tonight, he would face a crucible of heat from his superiors, least of all being sanctions from General Wu.

“Evacuation in thirty seconds . . .” the Elite pilot said.

The Offutt Air Base runway stretched out in view of the cockpit window. Blue and red lights lined the pavement. The lights led the way to the hangar, which grew larger as they approached. One cruiser was already on the runway, not far from the building.

Behind it, light blazed through a crack in one of the hangar doors.

And there was something else.

“What’s that thing right there, pilot?” Byron asked.

The Elite punched his console. “Nothing my scanners are picking up.”

Byron kept his eyes trained on the unidentified object.

My goodness
, he thought,
has Samuel already escaped?

“Sir, that’s wreckage of another cruiser down below,” the pilot announced. “Looks like it was shot down.”

Questions raced through Byron’s mind. Had Samuel’s cruiser been shot down?
Not now. Not after all our work.
His hand gripped his knees tightly.

 “Okay, everyone,” he said in a loud voice, “Something’s going on down there. I do not want to take a single casualty tonight.” He let the words sink in for a moment. “Hear me? Be smart.” He tried to sound tough and hard, but he felt like they couldn’t land soon enough.

With a stomach-lurching swoop, the cruiser suddenly dropped low enough for them to jump out and land comfortably on the ground using strategically placed blasts. The doors opened quietly and stayed open even after the team vacated it, leaving only the Elite pilot. As they ran toward the hangar, the cruiser landed two dozen meters away from the wreckage.

One of the Alphas checked the intact cruiser for enemies inside. When he gave the all clear, Byron signaled to hijack it. The rest of the team followed him to the gaping hole in the hangar door. Using blast shields as cover, he peered around the corner into the building. What he saw wasn’t what he expected to see.

Thirty or forty men and women in civilian clothes were in a stand-off against several Thirteens and Aegis. He scanned the room and saw no sign of Samuel. He remembered the saying taught by Nicoletta Clardovic, his Elite combat instructor: “The enemies of your enemies are your friends . . . until they shoot at you.”

“Who has more ammo?” one man in casual clothes yelled out to several nearby.

Shrieks came from several Thirteens in response to the man’s outburst, and they moved in closer as a unified body. A hand signal brought Byron’s team ready to move in and break the Thirteen’s formation. Both Byron and the squadron knew their surprise appearance would throw the Thirteens off for only a moment.

Three fingers raised . . . two . . . one . . .

* * * * * * * * *

Sammy blast-jumped onto the top of the cruiser where Toad was hiding. Several gunshots burst below him. Instinctively, his hands fanned out, deflecting away any projectiles that could strike him from beneath. He raced down the length of the cruiser until he reached the cockpit. Firing several shots from his nail gun into the glass, he then used a blast on it. The glass gave, but not enough. Through the window, he saw Toad run into the cockpit looking up at him, relieved. Sammy gave him a nod.

Below, the shrieks and cries of the Thirteens told Sammy they were close. Lying on his stomach, he blasted the window again and again. Shards rained down into the cockpit.

“Can you jump out?” Sammy called to Toad.

“I don’t know,” was the response.

“They’re coming. You gotta get out!”

Toad was pale and shaky, and Sammy feared the kid might lose his nerve.

“You can do it. Just don’t jump into the glass.”

“Will you catch me?” Toad asked.

Sammy glanced in the direction of the Thirteens. He could no longer see them.

They must be surrounding the cruiser
.

“I’ll help you,” he told Toad, “but you’ve got to clear the glass. Those sharp edges will rip you open if you don’t jump right.”

“Okay . . . okay,” Toad whispered as he readied himself to jump. “Three . . . two . . . one . . .”

Sammy grabbed Toad underneath the arms and heaved until Toad’s feet landed on the edge of the glass. There was sharp crack, and the glass cracked loudly under Toad’s weight. Sammy darted forward to grab Toad before he fell. His fingers wrapped around Toad’s wrist just as the whole section shattered. The full force of Toad’s weight hit Sammy, jerking him forward down into the cockpit. A grunt escaped him as he landed on Toad.

“Oof! You’re heavy!”

They both got up. Sammy’s hands and arms were bleeding in several places from small pieces of glass. Toad had gotten a couple cuts himself; a small one on his face and a long, thin one on the arm.

Several thumps were heard above.

“Here they come,” Sammy muttered.

Toad brandished his pipe like it was a sword.

“Where’s the gun you got?” Sammy asked.

Toad frowned. “One of Thomas’ guys asked for it.”

Sammy swore as he took the pipe from his friend. “You’ll live longer if you use the nail gun. Don’t worry about anything else. Just shoot Thirteens.”

Toad nodded, but Sammy was worried. He handed the nail gun over to Toad and crouched to the floor holding the pipe in his right hand, steadying it with his left. When the first Thirteen appeared at the site of the broken glass, Sammy shot the pipe off like a rocket, impaling her face. She was thrown back from the glass out of sight.

As Sammy stood back up, Toad threw up behind him.

“What is wrong with you?” Sammy asked.

Toad retched again, but managed to hoarsely whisper, “That was disgusting.”

Sammy understood. It had only been a few months since he’d first taken a life inside the factory in Rio. Now it didn’t faze him at all.

“Just watch my back,” he told Toad. “Don’t let anyone sneak up on us.”

“Okay, I know what it means to watch your back!”

Gunshots blared from above them, raining down through the hole in the glass. Sammy shielded, but couldn’t see the gunmen.

“Stop them!” Toad shouted.

“I’m trying! Chill out!”

One of the gunmen turned out to be a gunwoman. The ugliest woman Sammy had ever seen, in fact. Her skin was a pale gray but only lightly scarred, and she had only half her teeth (and they weren’t anything to brag about, either). Before Sammy knew it, she was in the cockpit with a gun aimed at his head.

While Sammy shielded, Toad fired at the same time she did. Both missed. Sammy blocked her shot, and she dodged Toad’s, quite a feat at such a short distance.

The second, unseen Thirteen fired two more shots at Sammy. A shriek from the Thirteen in the cockpit told the other to stop.