Strike (28 page)

T
he Retro soldiers in the camp had their orders.

They had been attacked before. Only this time it was different. Their own planes had seemingly turned on them.

The result was mass confusion.

The artillery gunners fired from the desert floor, but they had lost valuable time, for they realized too late that they should have been firing at their own planes. Their hesitation doomed them. The drones swooped in and with every bit of firepower they possessed, unloaded on the big guns.

Inside the camp, most of the guards herded the entire prisoner population into the barracks and locked them inside. After so many had escaped into the desert during the last air raid, they must have changed their tactics. It was a huge mistake. If so many guards hadn’t wasted their time rounding up prisoners instead of immediately joining those who rushed to defend the dome, they might have had a shot at taking it back. As it was, only a few dozen soldiers went for the dome . . .

. . . and were met by Sokol’s commandos.

The Sounders who were already part of the camp knew what was coming and they were prepared. They moved armored vehicles in front of the giant, open door to use as a barricade, as their counterparts had done in the future. Others were positioned inside the dome to either side of the door opening for protection. They were heavily armed and ready.

When the Retro soldiers rushed for the dome, they were cut down by a barrage of energy being fired from the Sounders’ heavy-duty weapons. The Retros were only armed with small pulsers and were no match for the commandos’ superior firepower. Making it that much more confusing was that they were being fired upon by other Air Force personnel.

They retreated quickly, taking cover behind the buildings near the dome.

For several minutes it was a standoff, until the Retros realized they had one very big advantage . . . numbers. There were dozens of them versus a handful of Sounders. The Retro commanders ordered them to advance. Reluctantly, the soldiers moved from the security of the buildings to rush the dome. Most were dropped in their tracks, but they kept coming.

They were soon joined by the guards who had been occupied with rounding up the prisoners. The Retro defense force was now fully manned. The commanders urged them forward ruthlessly, taking heavy losses in the hopes that enough would survive to make it through to recapture the dome. A few made it as far as the door, but were cut down before they could enter.

The Sounder defense was holding, but for how long?

In 2324 Olivia stood staring at the giant closed door of the dome. If the bomb was going to destroy the Bridge, that door would have to stay closed.

Her only way out was through the Bridge into the past.

She ran to Colonel Pike and dropped down on one knee next to her, hoping that she was still alive. Pike’s eyes were glazed and unfocused, but she was still breathing. Barely.

“We’re going through the Bridge,” Olivia said. “I’ll carry you.”

Pike shook her head, wincing from the pain.

“Leave me,” she said with a strained whisper.

“No way,” Olivia replied. “You can be healed.”

Olivia reached under the woman’s back, but Pike screamed out in agony and Olivia had to let go. There was no way she could lift Pike alone. A quick, desperate look around the dome confirmed that she was on her own, but she spotted something that might help her save Pike.

Back in the twenty-first century, the personnel vehicles loaded with SYLO soldiers charged forward, growing closer to the camp. We were now close enough to see the barracks and, in front of them, the huge antiaircraft pulsers. Some were mangled wrecks. Several others pointed to the sky but it was hard to tell if they were shooting through the swirling smoke and dust. Still others were leveled straight ahead . . . at us.

Uh oh.

The ground exploded next to our truck and we were hit with a wave of dirt that blew us sideways.

Granger lifted his walkie and said, “Where are the Cobras? We’re taking fire.”

Another surge of energy hit the sand directly in front of us, sending out a spray of rock and gravel that pummeled our windshield. The driver swerved to avoid the crater that suddenly appeared before us and charged on.

The other vehicles were also being targeted. Explosions erupted everywhere, forcing our attack force to scatter.

There was another huge explosion, but this one was far off.

An antiaircraft pulser erupted in flames.

The Cobras had arrived.

Six SYLO attack helicopters swooped in low and unleashed their missiles, tearing into the giant pulser cannons, sending the gunners fleeing.

The drones were no longer working alone.

We definitely owned the sky, but now we needed to own the camp.

Tori’s communicator beeped.

She held it up and read aloud, “Can’t hold dome much longer.”

“They need help,” I said.

“Can you communicate back?” Granger asked.

“I don’t know,” Tori replied. “I can try to text. What do you want me to tell them?”

Granger thought for a moment then said, “Tell them . . . look to the sky.”

At the dome, the Sounders and the commandoes were firing wildly at anything that moved. It would only be a matter of time before the Retros overran them and reseized the dome. Worse, three commandos had to break away from the dome to help defend the command center where Sokol and the pilots were controlling the drones. If the command center fell, the Retros would have the drones back and that would tip the balance back in their favor.

The battle was about to turn the wrong way . . .

. . . when several SYLO helicopters appeared overhead. The Retros stopped advancing and looked up in disbelief as a line of dark marauders swooped in and hovered above the dome. Side doors on each craft were thrown open and zip lines were dropped. Seconds later, heavily armed commandoes wearing dark-red camouflage uniforms hit the lines and slid to the ground.

SYLO had arrived.

The fighters dropped down all around the giant structure. They landed by the dozens and immediately made their way for the door of the dome.

The Retros snapped back into the moment and continued their assault. Several of the SYLO commandos were hit by pulser fire while still on the zip lines and fell to the ground, but most landed safely and returned fire, dropping many Retro soldiers and forcing others to take cover. SYLO’s automatic attack weapons may have been centuries behind the technology of the Retros, but they weren’t any less effective. The commandos moved in tight groups, travelling quickly between buildings, laying down short bursts of fire to protect each other.

The Retros weren’t prepared for this sudden surge of attackers. They had no choice but to go from offense to defense. They could no longer advance toward the dome, for they had to protect themselves from the SYLO commandos who were coming at them from multiple angles.

The cavalry had definitely arrived.

“Stop right there!” one of the Sounder commandos shouted to a SYLO soldier who had slipped inside the dome.

“It’s okay,” another of the commandos said. “The kids did it. They’re fighting for us.”

The two commandos turned away from the lone SYLO soldier and focused on the Retro assault.

The SYLO soldier continued on into the dome. None of the Sounders questioned him as to why he wasn’t wearing armor or a helmet. They were too busy ducking fire.

Olivia was able to wrestle Colonel Pike onto the floating palette that she had brought close to her fallen leader.

“Okay,” she said. “No problem. We’ll just float you right into the twenty-first century.”

Olivia lifted the handheld controls and was about to raise the palette into the air, when Pike grabbed her arm.

“Kinsey, wait,” Pike said through labored breaths. “I don’t want to go.”

“But you can be healed,” Olivia argued.

“Status?” she asked.

Olivia took a quick look around to appraise the situation and said, “The dome is sealed. We’re the only ones in here. The countdown is continuing. I think Sokol is holding the far side of the Bridge because no Air Force personnel have come through.”

“So we’re good?” Pike asked.

“Yeah, I think we’re good.”

“Then I’m okay with this. Thank you.”

Pike gave one last squeeze to Olivia’s arm, and her grip relaxed.

“Colonel?” Olivia cried.

Pike didn’t respond.

Olivia checked her pulse but felt none.

Colonel Pike, the leader of the Sounders, was gone.

“The death of a traitor,” came a voice from behind Olivia.

She spun to see a man wearing SYLO fatigues standing in front of the Bridge. He had just come through from the past, having slipped by the Sounder commandos.

“Forgive me if I don’t grieve,” the man said.

“Feit,” was all Olivia managed to say.

Our vehicles finally made it to the outer edge of the camp. Now that we had reached the populated area we had to slow down and make our way more cautiously.

“It’s about a half mile to the dome,” I said.

Granger got on his walkie and barked, “All units hold your position.”

Our driver followed orders and braked to a stop.