The Hallowed Cure, page 26
“Get inside, steal any research data on the computers, then make it all explode,” Hahna said. “But that will have to wait until we find out if Miss Alexander died on that plane. Suggestions?”
“Only to not take them head on,” Frank said. “We may have parity, but I don’t like our odds in a frontal attack. Lincoln’s shield might work to shield us as we deflect those rifles, but that’s a lot of open ground to cover. If they get any reinforcements, we could be cut to pieces from behind.”
“Agreed.” Hahna evaluated Frank with new eyes. “Who are you and why are you here?”
I liked that Hahna asked for Frank’s qualifications rather than about him being a Mute. She’d grown a lot, in terms of not killing people, since she instinctively tried to kill Skye almost a year ago.
Now, it seemed, so cared less about if someone was a Mute than if they were useful.
Which made sense. The Hallowed War was over. We weren’t in the Mute-killing business any longer, and without Frank, we wouldn’t even have found this plane.
“I’m the new guy,” Frank said. “Staff Sergeant Franklin Vega, formerly of the Dios Marines. It’s an honor to meet you, Captain. I heard quite a bit about what you did in the war.”
“I know I’m qualified to be here,” Hahna said calmly. “Now tell me what you’ve done.”
As Frank rattled off a set of mission code names I’d never heard and several talents in addition to those I already knew he had, Lincoln’s eyes visibly widened. I simply watched Hahna, and Hahna, to my surprise, looked impressed. I’d rarely seen her look impressed.
“Glad to have you with us, Vega,” Hahna said, and looked to me.
“Riven, any objection to me taking command of your squad? I recognize that Miss—”
“Yes,” I said.
“—Alexander put you in charge, so I understand if you’d like to retain that.”
“No, and fuck that. Please take command.” I was done with calling the shots on this stupid and frustrating mission. I’d have kept command if I didn’t trust my new commander, but I trusted Hahna.
Hahna might have smirked a little. “If you insist.” She reached into the pocket of her vest and pulled out a small black disc, then slapped it into Frank’s hand. “Vega, you will continue to be our covert eyes and ears as we move through the city. Keep an eye on our clones and use this to let me know if they move. It’s on a signal unaffected by the jamming.”
Frank calmly took the communicator.
Hahna looked to Lincoln. “Stay with Vega and act as a wall if you begin taking fire. Riven, you’re with me. I stashed a set of Sharpe’s new armor a few blocks back after I eliminated the clone that was using it. It’s almost entirely intact.”
“Almost entirely,” I repeated quietly.
“I cleanly decapitated the wearer from behind, so the only damage to the suit is around the locking ring of the helmet. That damage may not be visible from a distance, which is the angle from which it will be viewed from our opposition.”
“Feigned retreat?” Frank asked. It sounded like a suggestion, not a question.
Hahna nodded agreeably. “Back in ten.” She snapped her fingers. “Riven, come.”
She turned and leapt two clean stories to the fire escape, then scrambled up. I glanced at Lincoln, who shrugged, and then leapt after Hahna. I could have used some more of my jet fuel to simply rocket to the roof, but I was worried the clones by the jet might hear that.
And there were clones by the jet. I was still working to wrap my head around the idea of more of us, people who looked like people I’d fought alongside, running around this city in their shiny new black Hallowed armor. Was there a clone of me out there? Some full-grown one-year-old wearing my face?
I reached the roof of the building to find Captain Sato almost to the other end. I jogged after her as she leapt a good distance from one rooftop to another, using both her Hallowed strength and her own considerable agility. Since she didn’t wear armor, she jumped even further than me.
I followed her and feathered my jets as I made the jump to follow.
Hopefully, the quick blast wouldn’t give us away to our pursuers.
Under other circumstances, I’d have been worried about Godhammers, but if Hahna wasn’t worried, I wouldn’t be. Perhaps Sharpe only had a few Prescotts or, at best, a few Godhammers for them to shoot.
A few blocks later, Hahna dropped out of sight. I reached the roof and glanced down to see her waiting impatiently for me four floors down. I stepped off and dropped without checking with Nine, certain that if Hahna could survive that drop without armor, I could survive it with. I landed without issue and watched as Hahna slipped inside an otherwise nondescript building. I followed.
The cleanly decapitated body of a muscular dark-skinned woman in a tank top and shorts sat in the corner of what looked to be a small concrete storeroom. It took me a moment to stop staring at it. The rest of the building was shelves of otherwise unremarkable cleaning supplies.
That woman’s head wasn’t anywhere. Did I want to see her head? I did not want to see Kiara Prescott’s decapitated head, even
if she had been a clone. And now, I was glad she hadn’t come on this mission with us. No one wanted to see their decapitated clone.
Hahna walked over to a set of shiny black set of disassembled Hallowed armor stacked neatly in the corner. She picked up the chestplate. She unsnapped the heavy-duty metal clasps like they weighed nothing and donned the chestplate, then glanced back at me. “Seal me up?”
I assisted Hahna with putting on this Hallowed armor in the same way I’d assisted Mia and others through almost two years of wearing the stuff. Doctor Sharpe’s armor looked to be identical the armor we’d used in the war, other than the color, though it was likely a generation behind the armor I wore. Caitlyn had made significant improvements.
Mia’s absence remained a knife in my side. She had to be alive, and I had to trust her to be alive, but I couldn’t know she was alive. I also couldn’t worry about Mia if I wanted to keep everyone else alive, and I knew she’d be annoyed with me if she thought I was worrying about her.
“Feigned retreat?” I asked. No one had filled me in on our new plan.
Hahna glanced at me. “Basic tactics. You’ve never researched those?”
“Just refresh me.”
“I’ll pose as an enemy combatant and retreat from your attack, in full view of the four soldiers guarding the plane. With luck, they’ll see an ally in trouble and come to my aid. They will split their squad and focus on saving me, leaving themselves vulnerable to an ambush.”
“At which point Frank and Lincoln fuck them from behind?”
“That’s the gist.”
Hahna’s strategy made sense, though it would be a little underhanded. But again, this was war. The only benefit of fighting it fairly would be dying with a clear conscience.
Hahna pulled another copy of the small device she’d given Frank.
“How’s it look?”
“No movement yet,” a monotone replied. “Enemy remains in place.”
Hahna pocketed the communicator, grabbed the black helmet, and donned it. It wobbled as she turned, however, and when she shook her head, it visibly bobbed in place. Without a collar to anchor it, the helmet would fly off if she did anything other than walk.
Fortunately, we were in a storeroom filled with cleaning and maintenance supplies. It didn’t take me long to spot a roll of thick electrical tape. Duct tape would have worked better, but the gray would have been a giveaway. Electrical tape would have to do.
I snatched a roll and raised it for Hahna to see. “This work?”
Hahna looked visibly pleased by my discovery. “Wrap me up.”
She donned the helmet again and held it in place with two hands, leaving plenty of room around her neck.
I got to work on securing Hahna’s helmet in place, though I had to wrap the hell out of it. I used at least half the roll of tape, but her helmet wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. The moment I finished, Hahna turned to face me. “Wait here.”
Seeing no reason to argue, I waited. Hahna left the room for one further in the building, one I couldn’t see. She returned carrying one of the knock-off Massacres I’d seen those Frost Clones wielding earlier, then maglocked it to her back. As I stared, Hahna’s gaze met mine.
“I’ve been collecting intelligence on our enemies and their weapons,” she said.
Of course she had. She’d been taking trophies, and I barely suppressed a shudder at the thought. “What about Despair?”
“I’ll carry it for now.” Hahna snatched her sheath and sword off the table. “Let’s go. Surface streets this time. Follow my lead.”
We left the building and exited the alley to another empty street. I didn’t see why the city wouldn’t have surveillance cameras, and I didn’t know why Doctor Sharpe wouldn’t see us on them, but perhaps Hahna knew something I didn’t. We made good time back to the alley where we’d left Lincoln and Frank. Lincoln stared visibly as we approached.
“No movement,” Frank said quietly as we returned. “Not sure what they’re waiting on.”
“Us,” I said, as I belatedly realized the whole reason those enemy soldiers hadn’t left the plane. “They’re waiting on us. They know we’ll come to look for Caitlyn eventually.”
“Very good, Riven,” Hahna said. She sounded pleased that I was catching on. “Let’s not keep them waiting.” She looked to Frank and Lincoln. “Vega, get in position.”
Frank flexed his knees and then leapt, in armor, far higher than I could, before scrambling up the wall like a lizard. A moment later he disappeared over the top of the building, out of sight. As much as I liked the guy, I’d seen too many Mutes do that to not feel creeped out.
“What about me?” Lincoln asked.
“Be ready to shield Riven if they fire at us,” Hahna said calmly.
“Otherwise, stay hidden in this alley. Do not reveal yourself unless you have a clear line of attack.”
“Right,” Lincoln said, then glanced at me and grinned.
“Remember that night we froze all those Mutes in a Rocham sewer?”
I did.
“This time, you’re the bait.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled Savagery from the maglock on my back. “Kind of wish I had an Inferno round to shoot right now.”
“But it is nice that your sword isn’t killing you,” Lincoln added.
“True,” I agreed. “That is nice.”
Hahna pulled the stolen Massacre off her back and fired it up. As I’d suspected, it glowed red. “Riven, come at me.”
I ignited Savagery bright blue and set my feet. “Like full-on?”
I caught the faintest of grins through her helmet bubble. “I’d let you know if I was worried.”
“Fair enough.” I readied my new sword. “Let’s spar.”
I went at Hahna like I’d gone at the projection of Tony Frost back at Cloud Nine. I was utterly unsurprised when she effortlessly parried each strike of Savagery with her stolen Massacre. Yet she gave ground easily, backing up until she exited the alley.
Once in sight of the clones, she fell back even faster. Each of her parries grew clumsier, and each of my strikes got closer to hitting its
target. This was the first time I’d actually crossed swords with her, and I knew just enough about that to be impressed.
Hahna knew the sword so well, she could actually pretend to lose a sword fight while fighting off my best work with less effort than it took to yawn. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the four black Hallowed armor suits pivot to focus on us. One raised a rifle.
Hahna slipped around my next strike and moved into the suit’s line of fire. She literally put her body between the rifle and mine, and the clone didn’t fire. Did the clones even care about each other?
They must have, or someone did. Instead of lasering us both down, the rifle clones held their fire while the sword clones charged us from the plane. Just as Frank had suggested and Hahna had hoped, they’d taken the bait.
I hammered Hahna with Savagery and kept her between me and the rifles and she continued falling back. We moved into the alley on the opposite side of the street from Lincoln without being lasered.
The sword clones were less than a block from us. They’d be here soon.
“Flip!” Hahna hissed. “Into the alley!”
The moment we were out the enemy’s line of fire, I dashed past Hahna and spun, putting her body between mine and the entry. She then attacked me with Massacre, and it was all I could do to slow her down. She might be toying with me, but I had no trouble parrying her strikes.
I backed up as both suits ran into the alley, at Hahna, and then ran right past her. They stopped between her and me, raising their swords as if to protect her. Those poor fools.
Hahna decapitated the first Hallowed from behind with a single strike, then stabbed the second through the back as he belatedly turned. I knew Hahna’s blade had gone straight through the man’s heart even before she twisted her glowing red blade, ensuring not a single scrap of heart tissue remained. Hallowed could regenerate our hearts if we had time, but not if one got disintegrated.
I actually felt bad for the clones we’d just murdered. They’d run to the aid of their “squadmate” to save her, then died from a sword to
the back. Their reward for being heroic was one decapitation and one ... de-heart-ication. Whatever the word for that was.
Still, they’d have killed us without hesitation. I didn’t need to be dead. With two of the four Hallowed dealt with, I followed Hahna back to the edge of the alley. If one of the rifle-wielding Hallowed rounded the corner, we’d be ready for them.
Hahna shifted, then tapped her helmet. “They’re down. Vega got them.”
We’d just wiped out the enemy squad without a single casualty. I supposed it helped that they’d all been as green as we’d been back in the war. Killing people never made me feel good, but we did need to find out if anyone had survived the plane crash.
After Hahna left the alley, I was halfway tempted to pull off the helmet of the man whose heart she’d cut out. I soon decided I didn’t want to see his face, because he wasn’t Tony Frost or anyone else I’d once known. He was just another casualty of war, and I didn’t need his face joining all the others that still popped up in my nightmares.
I jogged after Hahna and found the rest of my squad already halfway down the street. Though small fires still burned here and there, and bits of plane debris covered the street, I was relieved to see my initial impression had been correct. While the plane’s wings had been sheared half off, the fuselage remained mostly intact. Only the very back half of the plane had broken off.
Caitlyn, Amber, and Reese had all been up front when the plane went down. Hopefully. I could barely make out the crushed wreckage of landing gear below the front part of the fuselage. Amber must have made one hell of a landing on this open street to keep the damaged aircraft from exploding. Caitlyn had picked the right pilot for the job.
As I jogged toward everyone, Hahna calmly gave orders. “Vega, watch for enemies. The rest of you, investigate the plane with me.”
“Yes ma’am,” Frank said. He leapt onto the top of the fuselage and crouched down. His third arm drifted lazily back and forth as he sniffed the air for enemies.
What remained of the plane wasn’t secured. Both doors into the fuselage were already cracked off, so it was easy to get into the actual fuselage. Once inside, I was relieved to find much of the interior and even a number of the seats intact, though it was a mess.
There were also big holes in the back, probably where our Hallowed drop pods had been before they fired.
There was no blood in the plane, and no visible bodies. Unless the clones had removed the bodies before we arrived, that was a very good sign. Working together, Hahna, me, and Lincoln combed what remained of the plane from back to front.
Lincoln soon whooped over our shared channel. “Come look!”
I trotted to the middle portion of the plane, the last portion before the fuselage ended, and looked out over a charred street. Lincoln pointed excitedly at several open lockers that were tilted askew but still attached. He seemed really excited by them.
“Empty lockers!” Lincoln said happily.
I assumed that was good. “Do you know what was in those?”
“Food and medical supplies.”
And he just knew that? “You checked before we took off?”
Lincoln made his helmet bubble transparent again and gave me a look like I’d asked a very dumb question. “I always know where we store the food. I’m the cook.”
I glanced at Hahna. “Didn’t look like those clones had food and medical supplies.”
“Which suggests Miss Alexander and the others raided that locker before leaving the plane,” Hahna said approvingly. Her own helmet bubble went transparent, allowing me to see her face. “It’s still possible Sharpe’s forces removed the bodies or abducted them and emptied the lockers to throw us off, but that’s a more subtle ploy than I’d expect based on the amateur tactics I’ve seen so far. So now, all we need to do is find them.”
“Do we?” I asked. “We know they’re alive. If Caitlyn’s gone to ground somewhere in the city with Amber and Reese to protect her, isn’t that the best case?”
“You don’t feel the need to rescue her?” Hahna asked.
“We don’t need any of them to blow up Sharpe’s facility, and our whole goal is to keep Sharpe from hurting them, right? If we spend too much time running around the city trying to track them down, we could end up leading Sharpe right to them.”
“So you’re suggesting we leave them to their own devices and focus on taking out Sharpe’s complex.”
“Seems to me if we take out Sharpe, we solve the problem for everyone.”
“Agreed,” Hahna said immediately. “Let’s vacate, and then—”
“Trouble on approach,” Frank said over comms.
“How many?” Hahna demanded.
“At least a hundred,” Frank said. “Smells like a large group of civilians.”
