Marco shook his head in resignation and chuckled. Jill wanted to smack him right there. He turned to Emerson and Felipe. “You’ve got one chance. See you chaps in five.” And then the two men were gone.
A grenade is not like a DVR. You just pull the pin and throw it. There are no other buttons to press.
“I’m not comfortable handling them. Besides, I suck at softball.”
You throw knives just fine.
“It’s different. Knives don’t explode.”
Emerson and Felipe disappeared behind the fleet of cars and made their way from directly opposite the entrance while Marco and Jill went in from the side. They crept closer, hiding between cars until they were within a stone’s throw of the Genjix agents.
Marco pointed to her and then to his left. Then he lobbed a grenade toward the group of Genjix and ducked back behind the car. Jill heard the bonk of the grenade bouncing off the hood of the car and the cries of alarm from the Genjix diving to the ground. The explosion never came.
“Oh bloody hell,” Marco growled. “Toss yours. I’ll lead them away.” He stood up and opened fired, running away from her location.
With badly shaking hands, Jill pulled the pin of her grenade and then nearly dropped it.
Steady. Just throw it!
An image of the Genjix around the Range Rover flashed in her head. She noted the three cars in between their positions. Hefting the weighty explosive in her hand, she stood up and lobbed it as far as she could toward the makeshift table. Unfortunately, throwing the damn thing felt like tossing a shot put. The grenade fell ten meters short of the target. Fortunately, there was a reason for the saying about horseshoes and hand grenades. The grenade bounced off the hood of one of the Range Rovers and rolled forward directly into the path of half a dozen Genjix agents were rushing after Marco. The resulting explosion knocked her off her feet. She saw at least two bodies fly through the air, slamming into car windows and landing on hoods. Jill picked herself up and ran in the opposite direction to Marco.
Remember your training. Roll to your left now!
By instinct, she followed Baji’s every command. Weeks of constant training kicked in and her body moved reflexively. She saw a quick mental image of a Genjix agent kneeling against the side of a car. She dove left just as he opened fire.
Over and on the hood. Shoot at your one.
She rolled out of the somersault gracefully and jumped on top of the car hood. Mid-jump, she turned toward the Genjix, flattened her body, and fell on her side. She aimed at her one o’clock, took a split second to adjust her shot, and fired. It took three shots to find her mark, but the Genjix fell, clutching his leg.
One from your two and three at your ten converging on Felipe and Emerson. Distract them.
Jill rolled off the hood and landed flat on her stomach. Peering under the car through the weeds and rocks, she saw a pair of boots sprinting toward her. She unloaded her clip and heard a satisfying cry of pain as whomever the boots were attached to fell. Then she began to trail the three engaging Felipe and Emerson. The two Prophus agents were pinned down by those three and another two near the door. Time was running out. In a few seconds, someone from the inside would notice the fight outside and then their opportunity would be lost. Then, she saw Felipe fall from a bullet to the chest.
Get them off Emerson
“Where’s Marco?”
Busy with six Genjix.
Jill ducked back behind the car and moved to a better vantage point. A pattering of bullets striking metal sparked all around her. Sensing a figure out of the corner of her eye, she spun to the side, changed levels, and fired twice. She was rewarded with a high-pitched cry of pain. Jill rolled to her feet and looked at her would-be killer. It was Simon.
Jill approached him cautiously. He was writhing on the ground in pain, having taken two shots to the abdomen. His pistol was several meters off to the side. He pushed himself into a sitting position as he stared at her warily. Then he smirked. “Hello, counselor.”
“Simon,” she replied, approaching with pistol held up.
Finish him quickly.
“I guess it’s your move,” he said with labored breath. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to kill you, Simon,” she said, voice deadpan.
“I don’t blame you,” he spit out blood. “It doesn’t matter to me. Biall will still live. And as long as my Holy One does, I will live forever.”
“You care a little.”
“Go to hell, bitch,” he spat. “Get it over with. Shoot me!”
We need to get back to the others.
“I’m not going to shoot you, Simon,” Jill said, holstering her gun. She took out the last grenade, pulled the pin, and dropped it a few feet away from Simon. “I don’t think Biall is going to get very far either.” Then she sprinted for cover.
“Noooooo…” was all she heard before the explosion sent her tumbling to the ground.
Well done. Biall will not survive that.
Jill moved back toward Emerson’s last known location. Moving around the back of a gray Range Rover, she caught sight of the two Genjix near the door. Two targets at thirty meters behind cover. Jill wasn’t confident about the shot.
Relax. Clear your mind. Exhale and make the shot.
Instead of clearing her mind, an image of her friends popped into her head. Paula, battered but still fighting, giving away ground in that silo inch by inch, buying time with their blood. Valkner, older than her parents, fighting with his last breath. Even dying, his last concern was for the safety of Eymi. Wilks, a man who yesterday wasn’t even involved, now trying to pull the Prophus away from total defeat. Then she thought back again to an injured Paula, waiting for that explosion so she could pull her people out. There was no way in hell Jill was going to let them down after all that they had sacrificed. She bit her lip, went down to a kneeling position, moved her sights back and forth between the two targets, and then took them both out with two shots.
Great shots.
“Time for pats on the back later.”
She made her way toward the last Genjix and found him lying face down on the ground with Emerson kneeling over him. He was still carrying the launcher on his back, but looked like he was about to fall over. His chest and shoulder was crimson red all the way down to his arms. “What happened to you?”
Emerson looked at the torn flesh exposed just below his collarbone and then shrugged with his good shoulder. “I got nicked by a bullet or three.” He grimaced as he tried to unstrap the launcher. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to shoot this puppy. You’re going to have to.”
Jill blanched. Shooting a RPG was not part of her training.
It is easy. Point and pull the trigger, like operating a vacuum cleaner.
“I don’t know what sorts of house cleaning you’re used to, but the ones I have-”
We do not have time. Just do it.
Jill stared at the dull long metal tube for a second, and then knelt down and propped it on her right shoulder. It was heavier than she thought.
“I’ll help steady it,” Emerson said, “but you’re going to have to aim. Go for the top of the entrance.”
Move a bit closer but no more than thirty meters. At this distance, expect heavy blow back. I would rather you hit the target though.
They knelt down next to the Range Rover in front of the entrance. Jill saw a dozen or so Genjix in the tunnel. They noticed her just as Emerson rapped the launcher with his fist and told her he was ready. Two of them tried to charge out of the tunnel as she squeezed the trigger. The resulting explosion knocked her onto her butt. She didn’t see the trajectory of the RPG but the shock wave was so massive she momentarily blacked out. When she came to, Emerson was dragging her away from the wreckage with his good arm.