She yelled to DC. ‘Stop Denton!’
DC rolled across the table — sword held to one side. He came up and lashed at Denton. It would have been a quick decapitation, except Denton knew it was coming. Denton kicked under the table, knocking DC off balance. Sophia moved for Czarina but a hard surge of water pinned them both to the wall.
Czarina reached for a knife and went in for a backhanded stab. Sophia smashed her elbow into Czarina’s forearm. She took the electrode wires still attached to her neck and wrapped them around Czarina’s arm, around her neck — then tore the barbs from her neck.
Blood, diluted ruby red with water, washed down her arm. She kicked Czarina hard in the midsection, sending her sideways along the wall — out the exit and sprawling across the spindly catwalk. More water rushed through and knocked Czarina off the catwalk.
Sophia dived for her, tried to grab her hand. She missed. Czarina dangled under the catwalk from one hand. Sophia checked over her shoulder. Denton was behind her. He turned as DC closed on him, sword in both hands. Sophia scrambled farther onto the catwalk. She rolled to her feet and swiveled, facing them.
Denton was unarmed, trapped between DC and herself.
DC thrust his sword forward. Denton sidestepped the blade, then ducked the next attack. DC moved closer, slicing Denton from every angle. The frenzied movements of the blade made it difficult for Sophia to get any closer and help subdue Denton, who seemed able to evade every strike. He advanced on DC, tearing the sword from his grasp and almost cutting his head off.
DC rolled back into the room.
Denton brought the sword toward her. Sophia ducked under the handrail. She swung between the handrail supports. Denton struck the next section of handrail. It buckled under the force of the strike and knocked Sophia off the catwalk completely.
Water rushed beneath her. Her fingers found purchase and she hung in the path of the foaming water. She shut her eyes against the blast, pulling herself up to see properly. There was salt in the water and it made her eyes sting. She was hanging under the catwalk, not much further along from where Czarina had hung.
She tried to look through the crashing water around her but couldn’t see the operative anywhere. Her eyes burned. She blinked, wiped her face across her arm to get the salt out. All that came off was a smear of her Day of the Dead makeup.
Above her, Denton and DC struggled across the catwalk. She could hear the clang of the sword striking metal. The catwalk buckled slightly and dropped a few inches. It wasn’t in the best shape and banging it around with the sword certainly wasn’t helping.
She lifted herself up until the top of her head pressed against the grille. The water pushed on her, eroding her grip. Above her, the battle shifted farther along the walkway, away from the room. She let go with one hand and allowed the water to force her back, then reached up to grab the edge of the catwalk. It wasn’t much of a grip but her other hand was slipping.
She grabbed the lip of the catwalk with both hands. She was waist-deep in fast-moving water. The catwalk shivered a few inches lower.
Sophia grabbed one of the handrail supports and held. Every muscle in her arms and shoulders burned in protest. She pulled herself up to the handrail, grabbed it with both hands and hauled herself onto the catwalk. She could see Denton forcing DC into retreat. She could also see a Blue Beret at the far end, taking up a position in the next room to fire on DC.
‘Behind you!’ she yelled above the roaring water.
DC dropped to one knee and kicked behind him. His boot caught the Blue Beret’s kneepad and knocked him onto his face. DC grappled for the carbine. It bounced off the handrail and disappeared into the water. The Blue Beret drew his pistol. DC’s hands closed over it. Their legs and arms entangled as they fought for control over the pistol. DC wrenched it from the Blue Beret, breaking the soldier’s finger through the trigger guard, and aimed at Denton — who batted the pistol off the catwalk with his sword.
Sophia looked for anything she could use. She still had her ruck on, so she searched for her spare Gerber knife, only to remember she’d given it to Aviary as a present. Denton swung at DC again, but DC rolled over the Blue Beret. The sword struck the Blue Beret in his sternum, fracturing the boron carbide plate and continuing part way into the soldier’s chest.
Sophia moved quickly for Denton. He knew she was coming and freed the sword from the Blue Beret’s armor by pressing his boot onto the soldier’s chest. He turned and carried the sword over his head. Sophia weaved to one side, hitting the handrail. It came free and she teetered on the edge. The sword struck the middle of the catwalk behind him.
She did the only thing she could do — threw herself backward onto the pinned sword. She landed on it before Denton could draw it free, protected by her ruck, and kicked him in his midsection. He lost his grip on the sword and landed on top of the critically wounded Blue Beret, almost rolling off the catwalk and into the water.
Sophia moved off the sword, her ruck still intact. She drew the sword as she moved and came to one knee. DC was nowhere to be seen. It was just her and Denton now.
She slashed left to right, just over the handrails. Denton dropped back on the Blue Beret to avoid the blade. She slashed again, right to left. This time Denton dived forward, over the Blue Beret. The blade passed over his head.
Sophia retreated and slashed downward, aiming for the back of his head. He rolled to one side. The blade missed. She kept her strikes light and controlled, careful not to embed the blade in the degrading catwalk. Denton’s roll knocked an upright off the walk completely and the entire handrail on that side fell away.
More room for her to manipulate the sword — she slashed across from her shoulder. Denton rolled the other way, leaped back to his feet. She moved in, worked the blade from side to side. The blade struck the left handrail and it peeled off, dangling from the end of the catwalk.
Denton came so close that she thought he might get around the blade. She retreated quickly. His movements were precisely timed and responsive. She kept slashing, thrusting — but Denton evaded every strike as though he knew it was coming before it happened.
He smiled and retreated a step, hands comfortably resting at his sides. He knew he was untouchable and there was nothing she could do about it. She watched him turn and walk away, toward the end of the catwalk.
Then she had an idea.
She brought the sword down across the catwalk before her — across the fractured steel, peppered with mold. Denton turned, saw the strike in mid-motion, and reacted. The blow cracked the catwalk. Two-thirds of the catwalk — with Denton standing on it — tipped downward.
Denton was in mid-jump. He landed on a parallel catwalk one level below, and crashed into the handrail support.
She was ready too. Her end of the catwalk remained stable, but it wouldn’t be for long. She jumped. A clear, prepared jump that brought her into the center of the parallel catwalk, sword held out to one side. She wasn’t letting him get away that easily. She dropped into a shoulder roll and came to her feet. She stood and drew her sword in. She was farther from the rush of incoming water now but the water level in the flooding base began to swell beneath her.
Denton didn’t wait for her to advance. He moved for the exit as fast as possible. She looked down to see water lapping her feet. Behind her, the catwalk shook suddenly.
She spotted Czarina. She’d fallen from the higher catwalk and, carried by the water, grabbed hold of the parallel catwalk as she passed under it. Czarina was clinging to it now, elbows over the side, mouth just above the water.