Titanium (Bionics) (3 page)

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Authors: Alicia Michaels

BOOK: Titanium (Bionics)
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My gut twists as Olivia McNabb’s face flashes through my mind. We weren’t exactly involved but we’ve screwed around a few times. She’s the Resistance Headquarters slut for sure, but she’s not a bad person. In fact, she’s one of the best people I know besides Blythe. If we lose her
, it will be a great blow to the Resistance.

“Get out of there Bronson!”
Jenica shouts into the device, her voice rising a bit. The human part of her face is as passive as the robotic half, but her eyes are darting from side to side, and I can hear the anxiety in her voice. Jenica pretends not to care but I see through that. Jenica’s problem is not that she doesn’t care, it’s that she cares too much. “Concentrate on getting out and I will put in a call to Headquarters for reinforcements. The lives of Bravo team rest on your shoulders, Bronson. You wanted to be a part of this thing … this is what we do.”

I can practically hear the steely determination in the stubborn bastard’s voice as he responds. “
Roger, Miss Swan. I won’t let you down. Over and out.”

The device goes dead and silence falls over us. The gunfire didn’t slow or cease during that short conversation and I know things can’t be good at the holding facility in D.C. where Gage and Olivia are supposed to be running a rescue mission.

“Oh, God, little Agata!” Blythe cries from beside me, her human eye filling with tears. I know she feels guilt over helping to talk Gage into using the girl as a weapon against the M.P.s., and she’ll be lucky if Gage gets her out alive. “We should never have talked him into taking her,” she says, her voice low and angry. “He’ll never forgive us if she dies.”

“Pull
yourself together,” Jenica snaps, once again her commanding self. “We can do nothing for them here. You two can get in the hideout and guard those refugees until morning. I can run these people back to Headquarters and call backup for Bravo team. These are things we
can
do. We are the Resistance and we don’t have time to fall apart. People are depending on us.”

Jenica’s
pep talk is all we need to get moving. I make sure that Blythe takes a weapon from one of the fallen M.P.s before we move to the opening of the hideout. We stand in the dark doorway and watch as Jenica leads the last of the passengers up into the hovercraft and steers up and out of sight. I pray silently that she is fast. Something tells me those stunned M.P.s aren’t going to wake up happy. They’ll be back with some of their boys.

Once
Jenica is gone, I pull the accordion-like metal gate closed over the opening and secure it with the padlock before pulling the steel sliding doors closed behind them. It won’t be enough to keep the enemy completely out, but it will slow them down. After I slide the doors closed, we are cast into complete darkness. Luckily, Blythe’s bionic eye has night vision so she wordlessly slips her hand into mine and begins to lead me down the cement tunnel down into the ground where the hideout is located. 

The darkness is suffocating, as is the heat that increases with every step we take that brings us further and further underground. But I trust Blythe to lead me and I walk blindly with my hand clenched tightly in hers. I can feel her tension. It’s in her grip but it’s also thickening the heavy blanket of hot air around us. I know that despite what
Jenica says, Blythe’s mind is on what’s happening in D.C.

“This isn’t your fault,” I say as we walk down the tunnel. “You couldn’t have known things would go wrong up in D.C. and the girl wasn’t supposed to leave the hovercraft.”

“Things hardly ever go according to plan,” she responds, her voice reaching out to me from the darkness. “Agata should have never been there. Gage either.”

My jaw tightens at the thought of the blond Blythe has lost her senses over. She’s become way too trusting of him way too fast and there’s just something about
him that rubs me the wrong way. Truth be told, I was all for killing him in the first place. All the better to protect our way of life.

“He asked to be here, remember? He wanted this. That means he gets to deal with the consequences of his actions. That includes
Agata’s and Olivia’s deaths.”

Blythe gasps and I know I’ve gone too far. “Don’t talk like that! We don’t know if they ar
e dead or even if they’re hurt. Gage didn’t seem sure.”

I want to disagree but I keep my mouth shut. Losing everyone I’ve ever loved has made me pragmatic.
I am prepared to face the deaths of those I care about.

“You’re probably right,” I say to pacify her as light finally appears at the end of the tunnel. “We won’t worry until we have to. For now, let’s just worry about taking care of these folks here. They’re probably scared as hell right now.”

 

Dax
Janner and Blythe Sol

Resistance Hideout in Memphis, Tennessee

August 17, 4010

11:45 p
.m.

 

The Memphis hideout is crude and lacking in the comforts we’ve come to take advantage of at Headquarters. From the large, open main room—which serves as both a living and dining area—to the metal doors of the residents’ apartments lined the walls from floor to ceiling, stretching up in five rows with steel-railed walkways and stairs lining the walls. The people there are as depressing as their surroundings, but that is to be expected. Less than twenty-four hours ago, they’d faced execution at the hands of the M.P.s.

The people are all gathered around, a mishmash of half human, half robot rejects.
They are watching us as if they expect us to take charge; which is exactly what we’re here to do, I have to remind myself. We have to hold out until morning, and that means putting several plans of action in place at once and getting these people doing things so they’re not focused on the imminent danger.

I decide to establish myself as the leader, as Blythe is still looking a bit green. It’s going to take her a little time to get her shit together and while I understand that, there are bigger issues at stake here.

Finding an empty table, I step up onto its stainless steel surface so that I am a bit elevated, and hold my arms up for attention.

“Good evening
, everybody. My name is Dax Janner and this is Blythe Sol. We are a part of the Resistance team that was sent to evacuate this hideout.”

“Then why are half of us still here?” shouts a guy from the middle of the gathered crowd. He looks like a body builder and one of his arms is titanium, but the look of fear in his eyes is unmistakable. Others shout and mumble in agreement.

“Our intelligence was off about the number of people being kept prisoner here, and our hovercraft can only hold one hundred, and that’s with people crammed into it like sardines. Our pilot had to make two trips. It was important that we evacuate the youngest, oldest, and injured among you first.”

I thank God for
Jenica’s thoughtfulness in evacuating. Among those left are the youngest and strongest, which means that if we’re infiltrated before the night is over, we stand a fair chance of fighting them off.

“We have a lot to do before the team returns in the morning for the rest of us.
Blythe and I have stayed behind to keep you all safe and organized. It is important that everyone do their part so that we are ready to leave in the morning in an organized fashion.”

“What do you suggest we do other than sitting around and waiting for the M.P.s to return with reinforcements?”
asks a woman standing near the front. She’s close enough that I can see the metal plate covering most of her abdomen. Its shiny surface extends up to her shoulders like a breastplate and I wonder how much of her beneath it is machinery. Her Italian New Yorker accent is thick and her dark eyes are narrowed as if she is suspicious of us and our plans. “Obviously, they’re not going to just stand back and let us walk out of here alive. They’ve been watching this place for months; you’d better believe they’re already planning an attack on those who are left.”

Her words create even more distress
, and soon everyone is talking, some yelling to be heard above the others. Some are even suggesting that we make a run for it on our own instead of waiting for Jenica to return with the hovercraft.

“Everyone, please remain calm!” I’m yelling to be heard, but no one seems to be paying attention. They are allowing their fear to tamper reason. “We have protocols in place for this very kind of situation,” I continue, t
rying to remain patient. If I blow my top it’s going to upset the situation more. Problem is, I don’t have a lot of patience and very little tolerance for bullshit. This is a waste of time and I’m starting to get pissed. I’m just about to scream at those assembled to shut the fuck up, when the shrill sound of a wailing alarm fills the air. It is just loud enough to smother the cacophony of voices that is drowning mine out and render everyone silent.

The sound stops and I notice Blythe has moved over near the wall, her hand poised on the switch of a fire alarm, her expression annoyed. Everyone is looking at her now as she nods her head as if satisfied with their silence.

“That’s better,” she says, crossing the room and joining me on top of the table. “Panicking and arguing will only get us all killed. She’s right,” she continues, pointing at Metal-For-Breasts,” the M.P.s are regrouping right now and they will come back. But if everyone would just listen to Dax here, we can get organized, be prepared, and everything will be fine. We just have to make it ‘til morning and help is on the way. Everybody okay with this?”

Nobody
speaks up, so I assume it’s okay to continue. “As I was saying,” I begin after nodding my thanks to Blythe, “I am going to ask everyone to split up into groups. Those of you with fighting experience, gather over there, near the entrance to this room. There, you will meet with me to discuss securing the perimeter and taking shifts throughout the night to ensure that we are ready in the event of an attack. If you own weapons of any kind, or know of any that may have been left behind by those already gone, gather them. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Is there anyone left here who works in the kitchen?”

A few people raised their hands.

“Good. I heard you guys weren’t getting much to eat while the M.P.s were here, so let’s get some dinner going. No need for us to starve while we wait. Any items that we can pack up and take with us to Headquarters, get them bagged or boxed up and lined up near the entrance. If there’s room for them, they’ll be of good use where we’re going. Everyone else, gather any clothes or supplies from your rooms that might be useful once we’ve moved you. Please remember to only take what’s necessary. Your living quarters at Headquarters will be small and you will have to share with others. If your friends or family are already gone and left things behind, bring what you think they’ll need. All bags or boxes going with us must be gathered and stacked near the entrance if you don’t want them to be left behind.”

“What are we supposed to do for the rest of the night?” someone else asked from the back of the crowd.

“If you’re not on security or kitchen detail, then once you are packed up and ready to leave, there is nothing else you can do but get some rest. I suggest turning in early in case we are contacted by our rescue party before sunrise. Tomorrow will be a long and trying day. I know it will be hard considering the circumstances, but that really is your best option.”

“You heard him,” Blythe said once I was done, jumping down from the table. “Let’s get gathered into our groups and get to work!”

Most everyone disperses immediately, though there are some who seem to need more time to digest what is happening. I leave these people alone, deciding to give them a bit of time. My impatience would do nothing but upset them more and I know that not everyone is a take-action kind of guy like I am.

Blythe and I skirt
the room, watching as everyone eventually finds their way to where they need to be. I turn and find her staring down at her comm. device, her mouth a tight, grim line. I know she’s waiting for word from Jenica about Gage and the others, but that’s unlikely for a while yet.

“Hey,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder. She glances up at me, the whir of her bionic eye humming as it moves. It starts to beep and I wonder if it’s giving her a read on my vitals. If so, I’m embarrassed that she knows how my heart rate spikes when she looks at me. “Thanks for having my back. I was about to lose it for a second there.”

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