Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #2 – "Born to be Killed" ❯ Chapter 16 - “Boomer’s Fury” ( Chapter 16 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Trboturtle 
The Boomers attack, and Priss and Craig have to fight a desperate rear guard....
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 08.27.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.2K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Work In Progress
The Boomers attack, and Priss and Craig have to fight a desperate rear guard....
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 08.27.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.2K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Work In Progress
**************
Chapter 16 - “Boomer’s Fury”
**************
Several hours past in uneventful peace in the area around the safehouse. The few street lights were fighting a hopeless battle against the night, exasperated by the lack of a full moon. Businesses closed, people either left or arrived at the surrounding buildings, depending on the structure’s purpose. Traffic picked up for a couple of hours, then died down to the occasional vehicle passing the apartment building.
After a couple of hours, Craig replaced Priss in the lookout post, After another two hours, Priss took her turn while Craig went down into the apartment. He had just walked out of the bedroom and into the living room when the wall separating the two apartments shifted. Craig’s left arm snapped up, tracking the opening and the person coming through it.
Linna ‘eeped’ and stopped dead when she saw Craig pointing his laser cannon at her. “It’s me! It’s me!” she hissed.
“Craig dropped his arm. “Don’t do that!” he hissed back. He removed the cannon from it’s hardpoint and laid it on the table, he then removed his helmet. His hair and face were slick with sweat.
“Sorry,” said Linna, stepping into the room.
“How’s Irene?” Craig asked, placing the helmet on the table next to the cannon. He walked over to the kitchen.
“Still sleeping,” Linna replied. “She was exhausted.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I wish I could suit up with you and Priss. Just sitting here without my hardsuit is wearing away at my nerves.”
Craig nodded. “Would you like some tea?”
Linna walked over to Craig “Please, let me do it,” she said. “In that hardsuit, you’re liable to make a mess.”
He stepped back, allowing her to start making the tea. “What do you think of this safehouse setup?”
“I don’t like it,” Linna replied. “But what else can we do?”
“I know Sylia’s not dancing in the aisles about this entire situation.”
“She told me before she left.” Linna put the filled pot onto the stove and turned it on. She looked at Craig. “Do you really think GENOM is going to attack us here?”
Craig took several steps over to the couch and carefully flopped onto it. The sofa groaned under the weight. “If they don’t, I will be the most pleasantly surprised man on the planet.”
“Priss said she didn’t see anyone trailing us.”
“That doesn’t mean much. GENOM’s has enough resources to watch a single person twenty-four seven, from birth to death. I can think of several ways they could have tracked you here, none involving you being followed by someone on the ground.” He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “It’s ‘Big Brother’ MegaTokyo style.”
Linna hung her head and let herself sag against the kitchen counter. “I feel like this is all my responsibility,” she said softly.
“What?”
“Making sure Irene and Jeremy are safe.”
“Why, because you like your friends to stay alive?” She looked up at him. He shrugged. “Hey, you’re talking to a guy who’s entire circle of friends here and now consists of your four, Mackie and maybe Doc Raven. I can’t afford to lose anyone. Sylia knows what she’s doing....I hope.”
Linna gave him a brief glare before she said, “But it’s still going to be a couple of hours before Sylia’s ready, assuming everything is ready on time.”
“You know what they say about assume,” Craig muttered darkly.
“No, I don’t,” said Linna.
In English, Craig said, “When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me. It don’t work so well in Japanese.”
The dancer nodded in understanding. “English is a hard language to learn,” she said in that tongue. Her English was a little more fluent then before Craig’s arrival, but her accent was still heavier then both Sylia’s almost flawless speech and Nene’s lightly accented articulation.
“Yes,” Craig replied, switching back to Japanese, “Because it’s like a mongrel dog with a little of everything in it’s make up. There are exceptions to every rule and rules to every exceptions, and it’s about as structured as a jellyfish. You have words that sound the same, but are spelled differently, with different meaning, like –“
The low whistle of the kettle interrupted Craig’s speech. Linna removed the kettle from the stove, and dropped several tea bags into the kettle. “How strong do you want it?” she asked.
“Strong enough to stand a spoon in,” Craig replied, sitting up.
Linna walked over to a chair near the couch. She flopped into it, allowing her limbs to relax. “I’m tired,” she said.
“So am I,“ Craig replied. “Could you answer me a question?”
“What?”
“Why did you become a Knight Saber?”
She looked at him. He looked back at her. “You know why I’m sitting here in this modern tin suit. Why did you become a Knight Saber?”
Linna took a deep breath. “At first, because of the money,” she said. “Sylia was offering good money, and I needed it. I wasn’t making it as a dancer, I had bills to pay and I was running out of options.”
Craig nodded. “But why are a Saber now?”
“Now, I’m a Knight Saber because I can see we can make a difference for people. The money still good, but I can go to sleep at night knowing that someone’s alive because we stopped a rampaging boomer.”
“Fair enough.”
Linna leaned forward. “I can ask you the same question: Why are you a Knight Saber?”
The Black Knight Saber shrugged. “Because a guy who bends the laws of Physics with the same ease you can do a cartwheel drafted me. Then he makes Sylia an offer she can’t refuse.”
“You could have refused.”
“Maybe.” Craig sat up, the couch creaking under the weight of both hardsuit and the body in it. “But that bastard knew which buttons to push and he pushed all the right ones. He made it so I had to accept the job – to refuse it would have been wrong on so may levels that I couldn’t have stood it. He tailored the entire situation so I had to say yes.”
“Do you regret saying yes?”
Craig was silent for a moment, his eyes closed. “No,” he replied. “I don’t enjoy getting shot at, chased across building tops, and fighting big blue meanies out to rearrange me and my hardsuit into gory abstract art. I hate the power GENOM wields with all the subtly of a nuclear explosion, and you know what I think about Mason, Largo and the chairman. For years, I’ve sat on the sidelines, bitching and moaning about everything that happens in the world, but never lifting a finger to do anything about it. Now I have a chance to do something about the world, something good.”
Linna nodded. “Maybe we’re more alike than you think.”
“Maybe.” he opened his eyes. “Is there anything to eat? I’m feeling hungry.”
Linna stood. “I’ll go see.”
Craig shook his head as he rose. “My turn. I’m the one who’s stomach’s rumbling.”
“I can –“
Craig took a couple of steps toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can look for myself. Why don’t you go check on Irene?”
Linna’s expression became slightly confused. “I-I suppose I should.”
“Good,” said Craig cheerfully. “By the time you get back, the tea should be ready.”
By the time Linna returned from checking on the still sleeping Irene, Craig had found some lunch meat, cheese, and some rolls, all fresh and ready to be use. “Want something?’ he asked as she walked back into the room
“I’m not hungry right now,” Linna replied.
“Suit yourself. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.” He sliced open a roll and started piling the lunch meat and cheese in alternate layers.
By the time he finished making his sandwich, Linna are retrieved the tea from the kettle, poured it into a pot, and taken it over to the coffee table. A few minutes later, Craig walked over, balancing a plate with a couple of sandwiches in one hand, and a bowl of potato chips in the other. He plopped down the items, then sat down on the sofa. “Have a sandwich,” he said to Linna.
“I said I’m not hungry,” Linna replied. “Why are you still in your hardsuit?”
“Because I’m expecting trouble,” Craig replied. He took a bite out of his sandwich. “And I’m expecting to be big, nasty and sudden.”
“I can’t disagree with you.” she stood and started pacing. “I feel so helpless. I should be helping you and Priss, not just sitting here.”
“Welcome to the real world,” Craig said. “Your job right now is being Irene’s friend. That’s just as important as what me and Priss are doing.”
“I know, but –“
The radio on the table came to life. “Hey!” Priss shouted. “I think we’ve got trouble!”
Linna lunged for the radio, while Craig shot to his feet, all thought of food gone. “What’s happening?” Linna half shouted into the radio.
“We’ve got three unknowns heading toward the front door,” the singer replied, her voice tense and excited, “one woman and two very large men. And -- OH, SHIT!”
“What?”
“There’s people on the next building – on the roof! Shit! They’re on both sides!”
“Linna, get Irene out of here,” Craig barked, his helmet now on and in the middle of locking the cannon into place on his hardsuit. “We’ll give those bozos a bloody nose and be right behind you. Take the radio, but don’t use it unless you have to! Go!”
The dancer sprinted through the half-opened wall, shouting Irene’s name at the top of her lungs. Craig finished attaching the cannon and said, “Black to Blue. How’s it looking!”
“Like shit!” Priss snapped. There’s at least half a dozen boomers up here, and I can’t stop them all by myself!”
“Don’t,” Craig said, moving towards the apartment’s front door. “Slow them up for as long as you can, then get down here and activate the self destruct, then get down the escape tunnel.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Slow up the group coming up. Let me know when you set the self destruct, and I’ll be right behind you.”
“Promises, promises,” Priss muttered. “Don’t be late!”
“Don’t get killed,” Craig replied. He reached the front door, unlocked it, and threw it open. He activated the panic signal Mackie had installed in the hardsuit, and dashed out into the hall.
*****
The plan Freya had developed, based on Cahira’s data, had been simple. She and two of the assault team would enter the building from the ground floor, secure the elevator and stairs, then move up. The other six members of the assault team would attack the target from the neighboring buildings, secure the roof, then work down. The target, along with her protectors, would be squeezed between them.
The first hint of trouble was when one of the roof assault team leaders said over the radio, “We have encountered resistance.”
“Status of resistance?” Freya barked.
“One target, firing from inside a defensive position. Two units have taken slight damage. We are continuing.”
By now, Freya and the two BU-55s with her had entered the lobby. One went over to the elevator and destroyed the car’s controls with several hard blows, then wrenched one of the car doors off its track, immobilizing the car and any hope of using it as an escape route. After that, the three of them went up the stairs, stopping at each floor to scan for occupants, then moving up when no one was detected.
When they did not detect anyone on the fourth floor, they rapidly moved up the stair to the fifth, and top, floor. With one hulking BU-55 leading the way, they charged out of the stairwell, into the hall –
– and into cannon fire.
The lead boomer never had time to expand into full combat mode, because two eighty-seven millimeter rounds slammed into it, the first in the chest the second in it right thigh. Each ripped through the boomer’s armor, shredding large sections of its internal structure and sending it flying back. The second BU-55's head exploded as the third shell struck it. The first boomer tried to get up again, only to die as the fourth shot slammed into it’s already savaged chest and blowing the boomer into large parts.
Freya leapt forward, her nails lengthening into claws. She caught sight of the opponent, a figure in black armor at the end of the hall. It’s description didn’t match anything in her database, but that omission would be rectified – after she killed it....
*****
“SHIT!”
Craig dropped the magazine of shells he’d been trying to reload with and leapt back to avoid the female boomer’s slash across his middle. A screech render the air, a sign that the steel-like fingernails had made contact with the armor of the hardsuit.
“Son of a bitch!” Craig didn’t stop to see if he was hurt – there was no pain or any other symptoms of a wound, and he couldn’t take to time to make sure. “Take this!” he shouted as his left arm shot up, his lasers firing at the boomer even as he deployed the suit’s laser sword from the right arm.
This boomer was fast – faster than a BU-55, and much faster than he expected. The lasers missed the shifting boomer, who spun and fired off a spinning sidekick at Craig. The Black Saber twisted away, missing the main force of the kick, then swung his laser sword at the snarling boomer’s head.
The boomer ducked and rushed in, trying to slam a electrically charged knee into Craig’s groin. Craig countered by slamming his left hand down into the boomer’s thigh while thrusting his right arm, sword blade extended, at the boomer’s chest. The boomer twisted to the right and hit Craig with an old-fashion left hook to the head. The helmet held, but Craig’s head snapped to the left. With a grunt, he spun, turning the hit into a spinning backfist that slammed into the boomer’s jaw, shattering it. Snarling something incomprehensible, the boomer charged and tackled the male Knight Saber around the waist, knocking him off his feet. The wall behind them shuddered as both boomer and hardsuited human slammed into it.
Cursing, Craig retracted the sword blade and rammed both elbows into the female boomer’s back in an attempt to break the hold, followed by a knee strike aimed at the bent over boomer’s face, which just missed. The cyber-assassin showed no reaction to either attack, but leapt back, then charged in again, finger claws sweeping through the air.
Craig pushed himself out of the cavity that their impact has cause just in time to start blocking the boomers’s attack. For several seconds, there was a stalemate, as the human managed to block every strike the boomer threw at him. Craig saw the Boomer’s eyes narrow as she calculated a way to break the deadlock. “Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered.
He reacted first, blocking both the assassin’s arms out and away from both of them, then slammed two palm strikes into the boomer’s chest, ignoring the artificial flesh below the clothing. This shoved the boom back about a meter, giving Craig enough time and distance to fire his lasers. In the dim lighting of the hallway, the Boomer’s left arm lit up the area as it exploded, sending debris and fluid everywhere. “Take that, you bitch!”
Then, the female changed tactics. She charged, avoiding the next rounds of laser fire and got in close. Instead of striking at him, she reached out with her remaining hand and grabbed the muzzle of the still deployed cannon. There was the sound of screeching metal as the cannon muzzled was twisted out of shape. She dropped her weight and spun, pulling Craig forward and off balance, right into the path of a knee strike to the abdomen. Using the muzzle of the cannon as a lever, she smashed two more thunderous knee strikes into the same area, cracking the armor there. She spun once more, dragging the stunned Knight Saber around and throwing him back into the wall right where the crater was. The impact set him deeper into the wall.
Craig’s awareness was a mass of lights and pain. The suit had protected him from the electro shock knee caps, but the result of the triple knee strike to his stomach was profound. His middle felt like he’d been run over by a tank. His vison was blurry, his mind trying to regroup itself. In his old life, he wouldn’t have recovered, but intense training and experience had sharpened his survival skills to a razor’s edge.
The Assassin boomer’s remaining arm shot out, the augmented fingernails aiming for the Knight Saber’s throat. Nearly as fast, Craig’s right hand came up and slapped the intended strike to his left, sending the blow past his head and into the wall with enough force to burry the hand up to the second knuckle. The boomer growled something, but Craig’s left hand gripped twisted the boomer’s arm at the wrist and struck the killer’s elbow with the hardest hammer fist he could muster, powder and debris scattering as he twisted to put as much weight as he could into the blow. A new wave of pain blossomed throughout Craig’s nervous system as the hardsuit’s gloves failed to completely insulated him from the elbow shock-cap’s effects.
The boomer’s elbow shattered with a shower of hissing sparks. The boomer managed to pull her arm free of Craig’s hold. It stepped back, eyes boring in on her opponent. Her arm hung loosely by her side, useless.
The Black Saber wasted no time. His anger, held in check for so long, was beginning to assert itself, and that wasn’t a good sign. He threw himself forward and out of the hole. As he did so, the female boomer lashed out with a kick aimed for his head. He ducked, then swarmed in, hammering the boomer with a combination of punches to the head and body. The boomer stepped back and hit Craig with a left leg roundhouse to the head. Construction and design saved him from the full killing impact of the kick, but it was still hard enough to dent the right side of the helmet, pushing it into the right side of Craig’s face.
Stunned, he stepped back, allowing the boomer to recover and launch another series of kicks at him, seeking a killing blow. He block several, avoided a couple more, but he could stop them all. Another kick rammed into his stomach, knocking him back. He managed to stay on his feet, but his mind was clouded with pain and dizziness. The boomer stood a couple of meters away, an expression that might have been anticipation on what little remained of her once finely featured face. After a couple of heartbeats, she charged, determined to finish off her opponent.
Craig’s temper snapped. “You’re dead,” he snarled, the sword blade sliding out of his left arm sheath. You are so fucking DEAD, you mechanical bitch!”
He waited until the boomer closed to within kicking distance before he charged her. She kicked at him, but he slapped the kick aside with his right arm. The boomer then tried to swing its useless arm at him, but he swatted it aside and thrust the sword blade into its chest. Even as greenish fluid spewed from the wound, he retraced the sword, grabbed the boomer by the remains of her clothes and pulled her forward and down into a hardsuit-augmented knee strike. There was a crunch as the strike smashed into the boomer’s head, scattering small pieces of pseudo-flesh and electronic components across the hallway. With a scream of pure rage, he spun and slammed the feebly struggling boomer into the ever-increasing crater in the wall. This time, the wall gave way sending both of them crashing into the apartment.
*****
After scattering several special smoke canisters to cover her retreat, Priss dropped down the smoke-filled shaft without bothering to use the ladder. She hit the floor of the closet and rolled, narrowly missing being flash fried by a pair of lasers from the boomers above. Not stopping to return fire, she charged out the door and into the living room.
Up on the roof, Priss had managed to put one boomer down for good and mauled two more enough to slow them down before she was forced to abandon the observation post and escape into the apartment below. Now she was getting out of there, her job to slow up the enemy done for now.
She stopped long enough to set off another couple of smoke grenades, open the panel hiding the self destruct switch and slap it. There was a bleep and over her radio, she heard an electronic voice said, “Three minutes....Two minutes, Fifty-five seconds....”
“Blue to Black!” she said, snatching up Craig’s hardsuit’s sniping system as she stepped through the fake wall and into the other apartment. Hurriedly, she locked the wall into place so it wouldn’t move and reveal the opening. “The package is set! Let’s go!”
There were a few grunts and unintelligible noises as a reply. Suddenly, the wall near the Apartment’s front door bulged inwards. She stepped back, leaning the rifle against the wall and pointing her railgun at the bulge. “Blue to Black,” she shouted, “What the hell is going on?”
“Two minutes, Fifty seconds....” the voice in her ear said. “Two minutes, forty-five seconds....”
“White to Blue,” the voice of the Saber’s leader cut across Priss’ radio and the automated countdown. “What’s the situation?”
“Going to shit in a hurry!” Priss replied, moving toward the front door of the apartment. “We’ve got boomers on the roof and at least several coming up from the ground floor! What’s you’re ETA?”
“Four minutes. Is the Queen clear?”
“No idea, White. Her and Green are gone. Black went out to stop the boomers coming up, but I think he’s in trouble.” As if to prove Priss’ point, the wall near the front door shuddered again, and again, the wall bulged, large sections of plaster dropping onto the floor.
“Is the self destruct set?”
“Hell, yes! I’m going to get Black and meet you outside!”
“Two minutes, Forty seconds....” the electronic voice continued, unaware of what had just happened.
Just then, the wall exploded and two figures came flying through the hole, nearly knocking Priss over. “What the hell –“ Priss shouted, her railgun up and tracking the newcomers on the floor. One she recognized as Craig, hardsuit dented and battered, sitting astride on top of what had been a female boomer with white hair, but now resembled a mannequin that had been fed to an avalanche. The Black Saber was pummeling the boomer with manic fury, and even Priss could see the boomer wasn’t getting up any time soon She reached down and grabbed Craig by the shoulder. “Move it!” she shouted.
“Two minutes, thirty seconds....” the now irritating electronic voice said.
Craig half spun, reaching for her arm before he recognized her. He relaxed, rolling off the brutally battered boomer and onto his hands and knees. Priss strode over and grabbed him by the arm again. “Let’s go!” she said, trying to pull him to his feet. After a couple of seconds, he got onto his feet, though it took a couple more seconds for him to become steady.
“Are you all right?” Priss asked. “Are you hurt?”
“Can you hear me now?” Craig asked over his suit’s speaker. He sounded tired, hurt and angry.
“Yeah,” Priss replied, this time over her own suit’s speakers. “Radio out again?”
“Must be. What happened on the roof?”
“Two minutes, twenty seconds....”
Priss turned and went back over to where she had left the Black Saber’s sniper rifle. “Bad,” she replied picking up the rifle and tossing it to him. He caught it.. We’ve got about two and a half minutes to get the hell out of here before the place goes boom.”
Craig released the mangled cannon from it’s mounting, letting it drop with a thud. “Let’s go. Linna and Irene clear?”
“Don’t know. They’re not here, so I guess they’re clear. Let’s worry about that after we get out of here.”
*****
Cahira frowned as she watched the raid from a block away. Something had gone wrong. There was too much smoke and the explosions she had heard were not those of a pistol or rifle, but of something heavier.
The plan had been simple and direct. Freya and two of the assault team though the front door, while the rest attacked the roof and worked their way down. In theory, nothing less then a full detachment of ADP troopers should be able to stop them, or even slow them down.
But something was slowing them down. Already, the radio frequency used by the assault team was reporting losses, and there was no orders coming from Freya. It was clear that the people protecting the target had been expecting an attack, and from the brief description broadcast over the radio, the guardians were the Knight Sabers.
Cahira looked down at the phone in her hands. Should she call her master now and report, or wait? Her own orders were clear: she was to wait and observe, and only step in if the primary team failed in their mission. After a few seconds, she decided to wait a little longer.
*****
Irene felt like arm was being pulled out of her socket as Linna pulled her down the stairs. One moment she was asleep, the next she was awake and being pulled into a closet and through a door in the back. Linna hadn’t stopped to explain yet, and Irene was now awake enough to want answers.
“What is –“ she began.
“In a minute!” her friend hissed. “I want us to get down the steps first!”
The passageway was narrow and lit with small lights ever few meters. From the rock walls and stairs, Irene guessed they were inside the wall of the Fault. A metal rod attached to the wall acted as a handhold, but Linna ignored it, more intent on guiding her and Irene down the stairs. Behind them, there was the faint sounds of something noisy going on.
After what seemed to be hours, they finally reached a small chamber and a steel door in the far wall. As soon as they stepped off the last step, Linna relaxed and released her death-grip on Irene’s arm. The dancer leaned against the wall and sighed.
“What’s happening?” Irene asked.
“Boomers,” Linna replied, pointing a thumb up the staircase.
“Boomers? But....” Irene trailed off as she realized what Linna meant. “They wanted to kill me?”
Linna nodded. “The Knight Sabers are holding them off, but we have to get out of here.”
“But where are we going?”
“Someplace safer, I hope.” Linna glided over to the door and pulled on the large door handle. It moved freely under her hand, and the door open silently. “Get into the van.”
*****
If Irene and Linna had problems with the stairs, for the two Knight Sabers following them it was a nightmare. With the roof too low to use the jump jets, they had to use the stairs like normal people. With the hardsuits on, the simple task became a precarious situation.
Priss was first, biting back curses as she made her way down the stairs as fast as she could. A couple of steps behind her, Craig trailed along, glancing back every few seconds to make sure no boomer appeared behind them.
“How long do we have?” he said.
“Less then a minute!” Priss yelled back.
“Then keep moving!”
They were ten steps from the bottom when the explosions went off. The first hint was the rumbling that quickly became violent vibrations, that became hard enough to knock the two Knight Sabers off their feet and tumble down the rest of the stairs. Priss landed first, then followed by Craig, who fell on top of her. The air suddenly became gray and thick, as dust filled the chamber.
For several seconds, neither Knight Saber moved, then Priss shoved Craig, snarling, “Get the fuck off of me!”
Craig moaned and rolled off of her. “We’re not getting paid enough for this shit,” he muttered, his voice tinny over the suit’s loudspeaker.
Priss rolled onto her stomach and got to her hand and knees. “We’re not getting paid at all for this job, if you remember,” she replied in a rough voice.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right. We’re still not getting paid enough for this.”
The blue Saber got to her feet slowly, then looked back up into the now-dark shaft that had bee the stairwell. “I think we lost them,” she said.
Craig sat up slowly. “I hope so. Right now, I couldn’t win a fight against a boomer Yorkshire terrier.”
Priss reached down and helped Craig to his feet. “We’d better hook up with Linna and Irene until Sylia gets here. No telling how this stunt has played out.”
“No argument from me,” Craig replied.
They staggered to the door and Priss opened it. The garage was silent and dark, with the exception of a pair of small lights in opposite corners of the room. Besides two cars, both Priss’ and Craig’s motorslaves sat, ready to go. What wasn’t there was the van Linna used that afternoon.
“Where did they go?” Craig asked.
“How the hell do I know?” Priss shot back. She called up the Sabers’ normal comm channel. “Blue to White, come in.”
“White here,” Sylia answered immediately. “Are you and Black all right?”
“We’re a bit battered, but still intact. Black’s radio has gone out again. I don’t know what happened to Green and the Queen.”
“I ordered them to clear the area as soon as possible. You two had better clear out too. The ADP is already on the way. We’re concentrating at point LION.”
“Understood,” Priss replied. “We’re on out way. Blue out.”
*****
The sound of a garage door going up registered on Cahira’s audio systems she glanced down the block. To her left, about three hundred meters away, the large roller door on a building she had identified as a garage was opening. The cyberdroid frowned. All the business along this stretch of the Fault had closed several hours ago. There had been no lights inside the garage before, and even with the door opening, there were no lights on at all.
She looked back at the building invaded by Freya and her team. Communications between the boomer units inside the building was almost nonexistent, but all sounds of combat were now gone. There was a haze of smoke in the air, and Cahira could sense the smell of burning wood and paper. Either the target and her protectors were eliminated, or the Boomer team was eliminated. Her sensors told her that there were several boomers still active in the building, but not as many as has attacked the building, and none of them matched Freya’s signature emissions. They appeared to be spreading out to search the floors below for something.. Had the target escaped?
She thought about calling the assault unit and asking for an update, but rejected that approach She was not part of that unit’s command structure, and they had no directive to inform her of anything. She might call Mister Largo, but she had nothing to report yet. He would want accurate and timely data, but Cahira had neither.
The sound of an engine made Cahira look back at the garage. As a van pulled out of the garage, she considered the possibilities. Thieves? Possible, but not probable. The garage was in a run down building, not a prime place to break into. Illegal activities? More likely, drugs or stolen goods. Or could it be the target and her protectors? That would explain the secrecy. But she had to be sure.
As she watched the van turn right and drive away, she memorized the licence plate, then reached inside her car for a hand held datapad. Using the datapad, she quickly connected to the motor vehicle registry database and send an enquiry about the licence plate. After ten seconds, an unacceptably long time, the data came back that the van was registered to a small company based on the other side of the city. A quick check of the company show it only existed on paper, backed by a wall of legal and shifting data bytes that would takes hours to cut through.
As a machine, Cahira could mimic emotions, but not actually ‘feel’ them. Still, the sight, sound and feeling of an entire building unexpectedly exploding less then a hundred meters from where she was standing caused her to be ‘surprised.’ She turned and watched the building collapse in a cloud of dust, metal, concrete and glass, ignoring the small pieces that hit her.
The destruction of the building had been planned by someone who knew what they were doing. The first explosions were near the top, collapsing the top floor onto the one below. Even as the fourth floor buckled under the strain of debris from the floor above it, another set of explosions destroyed the main supports, sending both top floors onto the third, which quickly disintegrated due to both weight and a third set of explosions. Two more sets of detonations marked the end of the building. In less then ten seconds, a five story building was reduced to a three story high pile of debris, the dust cloud racing out from the destruction.
Cahira wasn’t there to watch it.
Even as the building crumpled, she got into her car and set off in pursuit of the van. Despite the dust, she could still see the van in front of her. She accelerated, a vicious smile on her lips. The time for watching was over. Now it was time to hunt....
Chapter 16 - “Boomer’s Fury”
**************
Several hours past in uneventful peace in the area around the safehouse. The few street lights were fighting a hopeless battle against the night, exasperated by the lack of a full moon. Businesses closed, people either left or arrived at the surrounding buildings, depending on the structure’s purpose. Traffic picked up for a couple of hours, then died down to the occasional vehicle passing the apartment building.
After a couple of hours, Craig replaced Priss in the lookout post, After another two hours, Priss took her turn while Craig went down into the apartment. He had just walked out of the bedroom and into the living room when the wall separating the two apartments shifted. Craig’s left arm snapped up, tracking the opening and the person coming through it.
Linna ‘eeped’ and stopped dead when she saw Craig pointing his laser cannon at her. “It’s me! It’s me!” she hissed.
“Craig dropped his arm. “Don’t do that!” he hissed back. He removed the cannon from it’s hardpoint and laid it on the table, he then removed his helmet. His hair and face were slick with sweat.
“Sorry,” said Linna, stepping into the room.
“How’s Irene?” Craig asked, placing the helmet on the table next to the cannon. He walked over to the kitchen.
“Still sleeping,” Linna replied. “She was exhausted.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I wish I could suit up with you and Priss. Just sitting here without my hardsuit is wearing away at my nerves.”
Craig nodded. “Would you like some tea?”
Linna walked over to Craig “Please, let me do it,” she said. “In that hardsuit, you’re liable to make a mess.”
He stepped back, allowing her to start making the tea. “What do you think of this safehouse setup?”
“I don’t like it,” Linna replied. “But what else can we do?”
“I know Sylia’s not dancing in the aisles about this entire situation.”
“She told me before she left.” Linna put the filled pot onto the stove and turned it on. She looked at Craig. “Do you really think GENOM is going to attack us here?”
Craig took several steps over to the couch and carefully flopped onto it. The sofa groaned under the weight. “If they don’t, I will be the most pleasantly surprised man on the planet.”
“Priss said she didn’t see anyone trailing us.”
“That doesn’t mean much. GENOM’s has enough resources to watch a single person twenty-four seven, from birth to death. I can think of several ways they could have tracked you here, none involving you being followed by someone on the ground.” He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “It’s ‘Big Brother’ MegaTokyo style.”
Linna hung her head and let herself sag against the kitchen counter. “I feel like this is all my responsibility,” she said softly.
“What?”
“Making sure Irene and Jeremy are safe.”
“Why, because you like your friends to stay alive?” She looked up at him. He shrugged. “Hey, you’re talking to a guy who’s entire circle of friends here and now consists of your four, Mackie and maybe Doc Raven. I can’t afford to lose anyone. Sylia knows what she’s doing....I hope.”
Linna gave him a brief glare before she said, “But it’s still going to be a couple of hours before Sylia’s ready, assuming everything is ready on time.”
“You know what they say about assume,” Craig muttered darkly.
“No, I don’t,” said Linna.
In English, Craig said, “When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me. It don’t work so well in Japanese.”
The dancer nodded in understanding. “English is a hard language to learn,” she said in that tongue. Her English was a little more fluent then before Craig’s arrival, but her accent was still heavier then both Sylia’s almost flawless speech and Nene’s lightly accented articulation.
“Yes,” Craig replied, switching back to Japanese, “Because it’s like a mongrel dog with a little of everything in it’s make up. There are exceptions to every rule and rules to every exceptions, and it’s about as structured as a jellyfish. You have words that sound the same, but are spelled differently, with different meaning, like –“
The low whistle of the kettle interrupted Craig’s speech. Linna removed the kettle from the stove, and dropped several tea bags into the kettle. “How strong do you want it?” she asked.
“Strong enough to stand a spoon in,” Craig replied, sitting up.
Linna walked over to a chair near the couch. She flopped into it, allowing her limbs to relax. “I’m tired,” she said.
“So am I,“ Craig replied. “Could you answer me a question?”
“What?”
“Why did you become a Knight Saber?”
She looked at him. He looked back at her. “You know why I’m sitting here in this modern tin suit. Why did you become a Knight Saber?”
Linna took a deep breath. “At first, because of the money,” she said. “Sylia was offering good money, and I needed it. I wasn’t making it as a dancer, I had bills to pay and I was running out of options.”
Craig nodded. “But why are a Saber now?”
“Now, I’m a Knight Saber because I can see we can make a difference for people. The money still good, but I can go to sleep at night knowing that someone’s alive because we stopped a rampaging boomer.”
“Fair enough.”
Linna leaned forward. “I can ask you the same question: Why are you a Knight Saber?”
The Black Knight Saber shrugged. “Because a guy who bends the laws of Physics with the same ease you can do a cartwheel drafted me. Then he makes Sylia an offer she can’t refuse.”
“You could have refused.”
“Maybe.” Craig sat up, the couch creaking under the weight of both hardsuit and the body in it. “But that bastard knew which buttons to push and he pushed all the right ones. He made it so I had to accept the job – to refuse it would have been wrong on so may levels that I couldn’t have stood it. He tailored the entire situation so I had to say yes.”
“Do you regret saying yes?”
Craig was silent for a moment, his eyes closed. “No,” he replied. “I don’t enjoy getting shot at, chased across building tops, and fighting big blue meanies out to rearrange me and my hardsuit into gory abstract art. I hate the power GENOM wields with all the subtly of a nuclear explosion, and you know what I think about Mason, Largo and the chairman. For years, I’ve sat on the sidelines, bitching and moaning about everything that happens in the world, but never lifting a finger to do anything about it. Now I have a chance to do something about the world, something good.”
Linna nodded. “Maybe we’re more alike than you think.”
“Maybe.” he opened his eyes. “Is there anything to eat? I’m feeling hungry.”
Linna stood. “I’ll go see.”
Craig shook his head as he rose. “My turn. I’m the one who’s stomach’s rumbling.”
“I can –“
Craig took a couple of steps toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can look for myself. Why don’t you go check on Irene?”
Linna’s expression became slightly confused. “I-I suppose I should.”
“Good,” said Craig cheerfully. “By the time you get back, the tea should be ready.”
By the time Linna returned from checking on the still sleeping Irene, Craig had found some lunch meat, cheese, and some rolls, all fresh and ready to be use. “Want something?’ he asked as she walked back into the room
“I’m not hungry right now,” Linna replied.
“Suit yourself. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.” He sliced open a roll and started piling the lunch meat and cheese in alternate layers.
By the time he finished making his sandwich, Linna are retrieved the tea from the kettle, poured it into a pot, and taken it over to the coffee table. A few minutes later, Craig walked over, balancing a plate with a couple of sandwiches in one hand, and a bowl of potato chips in the other. He plopped down the items, then sat down on the sofa. “Have a sandwich,” he said to Linna.
“I said I’m not hungry,” Linna replied. “Why are you still in your hardsuit?”
“Because I’m expecting trouble,” Craig replied. He took a bite out of his sandwich. “And I’m expecting to be big, nasty and sudden.”
“I can’t disagree with you.” she stood and started pacing. “I feel so helpless. I should be helping you and Priss, not just sitting here.”
“Welcome to the real world,” Craig said. “Your job right now is being Irene’s friend. That’s just as important as what me and Priss are doing.”
“I know, but –“
The radio on the table came to life. “Hey!” Priss shouted. “I think we’ve got trouble!”
Linna lunged for the radio, while Craig shot to his feet, all thought of food gone. “What’s happening?” Linna half shouted into the radio.
“We’ve got three unknowns heading toward the front door,” the singer replied, her voice tense and excited, “one woman and two very large men. And -- OH, SHIT!”
“What?”
“There’s people on the next building – on the roof! Shit! They’re on both sides!”
“Linna, get Irene out of here,” Craig barked, his helmet now on and in the middle of locking the cannon into place on his hardsuit. “We’ll give those bozos a bloody nose and be right behind you. Take the radio, but don’t use it unless you have to! Go!”
The dancer sprinted through the half-opened wall, shouting Irene’s name at the top of her lungs. Craig finished attaching the cannon and said, “Black to Blue. How’s it looking!”
“Like shit!” Priss snapped. There’s at least half a dozen boomers up here, and I can’t stop them all by myself!”
“Don’t,” Craig said, moving towards the apartment’s front door. “Slow them up for as long as you can, then get down here and activate the self destruct, then get down the escape tunnel.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Slow up the group coming up. Let me know when you set the self destruct, and I’ll be right behind you.”
“Promises, promises,” Priss muttered. “Don’t be late!”
“Don’t get killed,” Craig replied. He reached the front door, unlocked it, and threw it open. He activated the panic signal Mackie had installed in the hardsuit, and dashed out into the hall.
*****
The plan Freya had developed, based on Cahira’s data, had been simple. She and two of the assault team would enter the building from the ground floor, secure the elevator and stairs, then move up. The other six members of the assault team would attack the target from the neighboring buildings, secure the roof, then work down. The target, along with her protectors, would be squeezed between them.
The first hint of trouble was when one of the roof assault team leaders said over the radio, “We have encountered resistance.”
“Status of resistance?” Freya barked.
“One target, firing from inside a defensive position. Two units have taken slight damage. We are continuing.”
By now, Freya and the two BU-55s with her had entered the lobby. One went over to the elevator and destroyed the car’s controls with several hard blows, then wrenched one of the car doors off its track, immobilizing the car and any hope of using it as an escape route. After that, the three of them went up the stairs, stopping at each floor to scan for occupants, then moving up when no one was detected.
When they did not detect anyone on the fourth floor, they rapidly moved up the stair to the fifth, and top, floor. With one hulking BU-55 leading the way, they charged out of the stairwell, into the hall –
– and into cannon fire.
The lead boomer never had time to expand into full combat mode, because two eighty-seven millimeter rounds slammed into it, the first in the chest the second in it right thigh. Each ripped through the boomer’s armor, shredding large sections of its internal structure and sending it flying back. The second BU-55's head exploded as the third shell struck it. The first boomer tried to get up again, only to die as the fourth shot slammed into it’s already savaged chest and blowing the boomer into large parts.
Freya leapt forward, her nails lengthening into claws. She caught sight of the opponent, a figure in black armor at the end of the hall. It’s description didn’t match anything in her database, but that omission would be rectified – after she killed it....
*****
“SHIT!”
Craig dropped the magazine of shells he’d been trying to reload with and leapt back to avoid the female boomer’s slash across his middle. A screech render the air, a sign that the steel-like fingernails had made contact with the armor of the hardsuit.
“Son of a bitch!” Craig didn’t stop to see if he was hurt – there was no pain or any other symptoms of a wound, and he couldn’t take to time to make sure. “Take this!” he shouted as his left arm shot up, his lasers firing at the boomer even as he deployed the suit’s laser sword from the right arm.
This boomer was fast – faster than a BU-55, and much faster than he expected. The lasers missed the shifting boomer, who spun and fired off a spinning sidekick at Craig. The Black Saber twisted away, missing the main force of the kick, then swung his laser sword at the snarling boomer’s head.
The boomer ducked and rushed in, trying to slam a electrically charged knee into Craig’s groin. Craig countered by slamming his left hand down into the boomer’s thigh while thrusting his right arm, sword blade extended, at the boomer’s chest. The boomer twisted to the right and hit Craig with an old-fashion left hook to the head. The helmet held, but Craig’s head snapped to the left. With a grunt, he spun, turning the hit into a spinning backfist that slammed into the boomer’s jaw, shattering it. Snarling something incomprehensible, the boomer charged and tackled the male Knight Saber around the waist, knocking him off his feet. The wall behind them shuddered as both boomer and hardsuited human slammed into it.
Cursing, Craig retracted the sword blade and rammed both elbows into the female boomer’s back in an attempt to break the hold, followed by a knee strike aimed at the bent over boomer’s face, which just missed. The cyber-assassin showed no reaction to either attack, but leapt back, then charged in again, finger claws sweeping through the air.
Craig pushed himself out of the cavity that their impact has cause just in time to start blocking the boomers’s attack. For several seconds, there was a stalemate, as the human managed to block every strike the boomer threw at him. Craig saw the Boomer’s eyes narrow as she calculated a way to break the deadlock. “Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered.
He reacted first, blocking both the assassin’s arms out and away from both of them, then slammed two palm strikes into the boomer’s chest, ignoring the artificial flesh below the clothing. This shoved the boom back about a meter, giving Craig enough time and distance to fire his lasers. In the dim lighting of the hallway, the Boomer’s left arm lit up the area as it exploded, sending debris and fluid everywhere. “Take that, you bitch!”
Then, the female changed tactics. She charged, avoiding the next rounds of laser fire and got in close. Instead of striking at him, she reached out with her remaining hand and grabbed the muzzle of the still deployed cannon. There was the sound of screeching metal as the cannon muzzled was twisted out of shape. She dropped her weight and spun, pulling Craig forward and off balance, right into the path of a knee strike to the abdomen. Using the muzzle of the cannon as a lever, she smashed two more thunderous knee strikes into the same area, cracking the armor there. She spun once more, dragging the stunned Knight Saber around and throwing him back into the wall right where the crater was. The impact set him deeper into the wall.
Craig’s awareness was a mass of lights and pain. The suit had protected him from the electro shock knee caps, but the result of the triple knee strike to his stomach was profound. His middle felt like he’d been run over by a tank. His vison was blurry, his mind trying to regroup itself. In his old life, he wouldn’t have recovered, but intense training and experience had sharpened his survival skills to a razor’s edge.
The Assassin boomer’s remaining arm shot out, the augmented fingernails aiming for the Knight Saber’s throat. Nearly as fast, Craig’s right hand came up and slapped the intended strike to his left, sending the blow past his head and into the wall with enough force to burry the hand up to the second knuckle. The boomer growled something, but Craig’s left hand gripped twisted the boomer’s arm at the wrist and struck the killer’s elbow with the hardest hammer fist he could muster, powder and debris scattering as he twisted to put as much weight as he could into the blow. A new wave of pain blossomed throughout Craig’s nervous system as the hardsuit’s gloves failed to completely insulated him from the elbow shock-cap’s effects.
The boomer’s elbow shattered with a shower of hissing sparks. The boomer managed to pull her arm free of Craig’s hold. It stepped back, eyes boring in on her opponent. Her arm hung loosely by her side, useless.
The Black Saber wasted no time. His anger, held in check for so long, was beginning to assert itself, and that wasn’t a good sign. He threw himself forward and out of the hole. As he did so, the female boomer lashed out with a kick aimed for his head. He ducked, then swarmed in, hammering the boomer with a combination of punches to the head and body. The boomer stepped back and hit Craig with a left leg roundhouse to the head. Construction and design saved him from the full killing impact of the kick, but it was still hard enough to dent the right side of the helmet, pushing it into the right side of Craig’s face.
Stunned, he stepped back, allowing the boomer to recover and launch another series of kicks at him, seeking a killing blow. He block several, avoided a couple more, but he could stop them all. Another kick rammed into his stomach, knocking him back. He managed to stay on his feet, but his mind was clouded with pain and dizziness. The boomer stood a couple of meters away, an expression that might have been anticipation on what little remained of her once finely featured face. After a couple of heartbeats, she charged, determined to finish off her opponent.
Craig’s temper snapped. “You’re dead,” he snarled, the sword blade sliding out of his left arm sheath. You are so fucking DEAD, you mechanical bitch!”
He waited until the boomer closed to within kicking distance before he charged her. She kicked at him, but he slapped the kick aside with his right arm. The boomer then tried to swing its useless arm at him, but he swatted it aside and thrust the sword blade into its chest. Even as greenish fluid spewed from the wound, he retraced the sword, grabbed the boomer by the remains of her clothes and pulled her forward and down into a hardsuit-augmented knee strike. There was a crunch as the strike smashed into the boomer’s head, scattering small pieces of pseudo-flesh and electronic components across the hallway. With a scream of pure rage, he spun and slammed the feebly struggling boomer into the ever-increasing crater in the wall. This time, the wall gave way sending both of them crashing into the apartment.
*****
After scattering several special smoke canisters to cover her retreat, Priss dropped down the smoke-filled shaft without bothering to use the ladder. She hit the floor of the closet and rolled, narrowly missing being flash fried by a pair of lasers from the boomers above. Not stopping to return fire, she charged out the door and into the living room.
Up on the roof, Priss had managed to put one boomer down for good and mauled two more enough to slow them down before she was forced to abandon the observation post and escape into the apartment below. Now she was getting out of there, her job to slow up the enemy done for now.
She stopped long enough to set off another couple of smoke grenades, open the panel hiding the self destruct switch and slap it. There was a bleep and over her radio, she heard an electronic voice said, “Three minutes....Two minutes, Fifty-five seconds....”
“Blue to Black!” she said, snatching up Craig’s hardsuit’s sniping system as she stepped through the fake wall and into the other apartment. Hurriedly, she locked the wall into place so it wouldn’t move and reveal the opening. “The package is set! Let’s go!”
There were a few grunts and unintelligible noises as a reply. Suddenly, the wall near the Apartment’s front door bulged inwards. She stepped back, leaning the rifle against the wall and pointing her railgun at the bulge. “Blue to Black,” she shouted, “What the hell is going on?”
“Two minutes, Fifty seconds....” the voice in her ear said. “Two minutes, forty-five seconds....”
“White to Blue,” the voice of the Saber’s leader cut across Priss’ radio and the automated countdown. “What’s the situation?”
“Going to shit in a hurry!” Priss replied, moving toward the front door of the apartment. “We’ve got boomers on the roof and at least several coming up from the ground floor! What’s you’re ETA?”
“Four minutes. Is the Queen clear?”
“No idea, White. Her and Green are gone. Black went out to stop the boomers coming up, but I think he’s in trouble.” As if to prove Priss’ point, the wall near the front door shuddered again, and again, the wall bulged, large sections of plaster dropping onto the floor.
“Is the self destruct set?”
“Hell, yes! I’m going to get Black and meet you outside!”
“Two minutes, Forty seconds....” the electronic voice continued, unaware of what had just happened.
Just then, the wall exploded and two figures came flying through the hole, nearly knocking Priss over. “What the hell –“ Priss shouted, her railgun up and tracking the newcomers on the floor. One she recognized as Craig, hardsuit dented and battered, sitting astride on top of what had been a female boomer with white hair, but now resembled a mannequin that had been fed to an avalanche. The Black Saber was pummeling the boomer with manic fury, and even Priss could see the boomer wasn’t getting up any time soon She reached down and grabbed Craig by the shoulder. “Move it!” she shouted.
“Two minutes, thirty seconds....” the now irritating electronic voice said.
Craig half spun, reaching for her arm before he recognized her. He relaxed, rolling off the brutally battered boomer and onto his hands and knees. Priss strode over and grabbed him by the arm again. “Let’s go!” she said, trying to pull him to his feet. After a couple of seconds, he got onto his feet, though it took a couple more seconds for him to become steady.
“Are you all right?” Priss asked. “Are you hurt?”
“Can you hear me now?” Craig asked over his suit’s speaker. He sounded tired, hurt and angry.
“Yeah,” Priss replied, this time over her own suit’s speakers. “Radio out again?”
“Must be. What happened on the roof?”
“Two minutes, twenty seconds....”
Priss turned and went back over to where she had left the Black Saber’s sniper rifle. “Bad,” she replied picking up the rifle and tossing it to him. He caught it.. We’ve got about two and a half minutes to get the hell out of here before the place goes boom.”
Craig released the mangled cannon from it’s mounting, letting it drop with a thud. “Let’s go. Linna and Irene clear?”
“Don’t know. They’re not here, so I guess they’re clear. Let’s worry about that after we get out of here.”
*****
Cahira frowned as she watched the raid from a block away. Something had gone wrong. There was too much smoke and the explosions she had heard were not those of a pistol or rifle, but of something heavier.
The plan had been simple and direct. Freya and two of the assault team though the front door, while the rest attacked the roof and worked their way down. In theory, nothing less then a full detachment of ADP troopers should be able to stop them, or even slow them down.
But something was slowing them down. Already, the radio frequency used by the assault team was reporting losses, and there was no orders coming from Freya. It was clear that the people protecting the target had been expecting an attack, and from the brief description broadcast over the radio, the guardians were the Knight Sabers.
Cahira looked down at the phone in her hands. Should she call her master now and report, or wait? Her own orders were clear: she was to wait and observe, and only step in if the primary team failed in their mission. After a few seconds, she decided to wait a little longer.
*****
Irene felt like arm was being pulled out of her socket as Linna pulled her down the stairs. One moment she was asleep, the next she was awake and being pulled into a closet and through a door in the back. Linna hadn’t stopped to explain yet, and Irene was now awake enough to want answers.
“What is –“ she began.
“In a minute!” her friend hissed. “I want us to get down the steps first!”
The passageway was narrow and lit with small lights ever few meters. From the rock walls and stairs, Irene guessed they were inside the wall of the Fault. A metal rod attached to the wall acted as a handhold, but Linna ignored it, more intent on guiding her and Irene down the stairs. Behind them, there was the faint sounds of something noisy going on.
After what seemed to be hours, they finally reached a small chamber and a steel door in the far wall. As soon as they stepped off the last step, Linna relaxed and released her death-grip on Irene’s arm. The dancer leaned against the wall and sighed.
“What’s happening?” Irene asked.
“Boomers,” Linna replied, pointing a thumb up the staircase.
“Boomers? But....” Irene trailed off as she realized what Linna meant. “They wanted to kill me?”
Linna nodded. “The Knight Sabers are holding them off, but we have to get out of here.”
“But where are we going?”
“Someplace safer, I hope.” Linna glided over to the door and pulled on the large door handle. It moved freely under her hand, and the door open silently. “Get into the van.”
*****
If Irene and Linna had problems with the stairs, for the two Knight Sabers following them it was a nightmare. With the roof too low to use the jump jets, they had to use the stairs like normal people. With the hardsuits on, the simple task became a precarious situation.
Priss was first, biting back curses as she made her way down the stairs as fast as she could. A couple of steps behind her, Craig trailed along, glancing back every few seconds to make sure no boomer appeared behind them.
“How long do we have?” he said.
“Less then a minute!” Priss yelled back.
“Then keep moving!”
They were ten steps from the bottom when the explosions went off. The first hint was the rumbling that quickly became violent vibrations, that became hard enough to knock the two Knight Sabers off their feet and tumble down the rest of the stairs. Priss landed first, then followed by Craig, who fell on top of her. The air suddenly became gray and thick, as dust filled the chamber.
For several seconds, neither Knight Saber moved, then Priss shoved Craig, snarling, “Get the fuck off of me!”
Craig moaned and rolled off of her. “We’re not getting paid enough for this shit,” he muttered, his voice tinny over the suit’s loudspeaker.
Priss rolled onto her stomach and got to her hand and knees. “We’re not getting paid at all for this job, if you remember,” she replied in a rough voice.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right. We’re still not getting paid enough for this.”
The blue Saber got to her feet slowly, then looked back up into the now-dark shaft that had bee the stairwell. “I think we lost them,” she said.
Craig sat up slowly. “I hope so. Right now, I couldn’t win a fight against a boomer Yorkshire terrier.”
Priss reached down and helped Craig to his feet. “We’d better hook up with Linna and Irene until Sylia gets here. No telling how this stunt has played out.”
“No argument from me,” Craig replied.
They staggered to the door and Priss opened it. The garage was silent and dark, with the exception of a pair of small lights in opposite corners of the room. Besides two cars, both Priss’ and Craig’s motorslaves sat, ready to go. What wasn’t there was the van Linna used that afternoon.
“Where did they go?” Craig asked.
“How the hell do I know?” Priss shot back. She called up the Sabers’ normal comm channel. “Blue to White, come in.”
“White here,” Sylia answered immediately. “Are you and Black all right?”
“We’re a bit battered, but still intact. Black’s radio has gone out again. I don’t know what happened to Green and the Queen.”
“I ordered them to clear the area as soon as possible. You two had better clear out too. The ADP is already on the way. We’re concentrating at point LION.”
“Understood,” Priss replied. “We’re on out way. Blue out.”
*****
The sound of a garage door going up registered on Cahira’s audio systems she glanced down the block. To her left, about three hundred meters away, the large roller door on a building she had identified as a garage was opening. The cyberdroid frowned. All the business along this stretch of the Fault had closed several hours ago. There had been no lights inside the garage before, and even with the door opening, there were no lights on at all.
She looked back at the building invaded by Freya and her team. Communications between the boomer units inside the building was almost nonexistent, but all sounds of combat were now gone. There was a haze of smoke in the air, and Cahira could sense the smell of burning wood and paper. Either the target and her protectors were eliminated, or the Boomer team was eliminated. Her sensors told her that there were several boomers still active in the building, but not as many as has attacked the building, and none of them matched Freya’s signature emissions. They appeared to be spreading out to search the floors below for something.. Had the target escaped?
She thought about calling the assault unit and asking for an update, but rejected that approach She was not part of that unit’s command structure, and they had no directive to inform her of anything. She might call Mister Largo, but she had nothing to report yet. He would want accurate and timely data, but Cahira had neither.
The sound of an engine made Cahira look back at the garage. As a van pulled out of the garage, she considered the possibilities. Thieves? Possible, but not probable. The garage was in a run down building, not a prime place to break into. Illegal activities? More likely, drugs or stolen goods. Or could it be the target and her protectors? That would explain the secrecy. But she had to be sure.
As she watched the van turn right and drive away, she memorized the licence plate, then reached inside her car for a hand held datapad. Using the datapad, she quickly connected to the motor vehicle registry database and send an enquiry about the licence plate. After ten seconds, an unacceptably long time, the data came back that the van was registered to a small company based on the other side of the city. A quick check of the company show it only existed on paper, backed by a wall of legal and shifting data bytes that would takes hours to cut through.
As a machine, Cahira could mimic emotions, but not actually ‘feel’ them. Still, the sight, sound and feeling of an entire building unexpectedly exploding less then a hundred meters from where she was standing caused her to be ‘surprised.’ She turned and watched the building collapse in a cloud of dust, metal, concrete and glass, ignoring the small pieces that hit her.
The destruction of the building had been planned by someone who knew what they were doing. The first explosions were near the top, collapsing the top floor onto the one below. Even as the fourth floor buckled under the strain of debris from the floor above it, another set of explosions destroyed the main supports, sending both top floors onto the third, which quickly disintegrated due to both weight and a third set of explosions. Two more sets of detonations marked the end of the building. In less then ten seconds, a five story building was reduced to a three story high pile of debris, the dust cloud racing out from the destruction.
Cahira wasn’t there to watch it.
Even as the building crumpled, she got into her car and set off in pursuit of the van. Despite the dust, she could still see the van in front of her. She accelerated, a vicious smile on her lips. The time for watching was over. Now it was time to hunt....