‘Yeah but we need to actually get there first!’ DC yelled from the driver’s seat, swerving to avoid more parked cars.
‘What if the operatives come and take it?’ Czarina said.
‘Then we blow it,’ Sophia said. ‘Whatever explosives Denton is using, they’ll burn hot enough to either destroy the meteorite or fuse it, destroying the virus. It’s the only way to be sure. Obviously we need to get the boys out first.’
‘I can take us underground — on foot direct to the platform the guys are being held on,’ DC said.
‘We don’t have time,’ Sophia said. ‘Until we get the meteorite in place, Denton can blow one of those platforms. He has leverage right now. And we need to change that.’
She felt DC push the Marauder harder. ‘We have company.’
Sophia saw another Marauder lurch out behind them — one block away.
She slipped her ruck from her shoulders and jumped into the gunner platform. Climbing into place, she cocked the .50 cal and released the lock on the mount. The Marauder slipped into her front sight. Someone was moving into its gunner platform too.
She squeezed the trigger and held it there. The recoil shuddered through her. She held, refocused her aim and kept the rounds on the Marauder. The driver’s cabin took the rounds but didn’t deflect them. The large caliber pierced the cabin, punched through the roof and hit the gunner platform, tearing the operator and the machine gun into splinters of flesh and metal.
The Marauder turned and crashed through parked cars. She continued to punch rounds into it, vaguely aware that rounds had struck just below her. She looked down to see a tear in the armor and a hole in the driver’s cabin. DC was still driving straight. She hoped he was OK.
Something blurred across her vision. She took a hand off to clear her eyes from the CS gas. The blur was real. An operative was on the roof, beside her. His foot smashed into her ear. The same boots that casually dressed soldier had been wearing. Starbursts popped across her vision. She almost fell back into the rear cabin, losing her Glock, but somehow managed to hang onto the rungs.
The operative tore the .50 cal from her grasp and brought the barrel around. She saw his masked face. It was him. Standing beside the Commander in the ballroom.
She ducked under the barrel, pushed the barrel harder. It caught the masked operative in his stomach. He rolled over it, his face connecting with her fist. She captured his head and shoulders, wrapped her supporting arm over his neck and broke his—
The operative slipped from her grasp. A knife scythed toward her neck. There was no room to move inside the circular hole of the gunner platform, it was too cramped. She moved clear of the blade, brought her shoulder back down on it, pinned his wrist there. If the blade cut into her arm she didn’t care. She wrapped an arm around his neck, another over his shoulder and twisted him away. His forehead hit the porthole and she held it there. He grunted, blood pouring from his face.
Czarina was below, carbine ready. The chance of her getting a clear shot was unlikely and Sophia knew it. This was on her. The operative’s knee connected with her chin. She reeled from the blow, almost losing focus. Her teeth clashed together — thankfully with her tongue out of the way — and she released her hold on the operative’s head. She still kept the knife pinned, but he was able to maneuver around with one arm and two legs free.
The operative struck her leg, smashing her knee and ankle against the hull. Then he struck her neck, trying to shunt blood into her brain and knock her out. She tried to trap his arm but he wriggled further upward. Then he freed the knife-wielding hand. She ducked into the porthole and—
An overheard traffic light connected with the operative.
Sophia watched him tumble off the back of the Marauder.
‘One block and closing!’ DC yelled.
Sophia climbed down into the rear cabin, Czarina beside her checking for injuries she might not have noticed.
‘Minor laceration on your arm,’ she said. ‘You have a lot of blood on you but most of it isn’t yours.’
Sophia reached down to collect her Glock. ‘Another operative I could’ve saved,’ she said.
Chapter 49
Damien stood in the center of the platform, directly under the strip of fluorescent lights.
Although he had a ten by ten foot square to freely move inside, he didn’t want to stray too close to the sensors and trigger the explosives on Jay’s platform. The motion sensors were fixed to the ceiling in pairs: two pairs in front of him and two pairs behind. Their arcs coalesced, which, as Denton had informed his captive, would catch anyone trying to disable one of the sensors. They were configured to work as barriers instead of a wide field of vision, trapping Damien inside an invisible box. If he tried to climb over the trains on either side of him, he’d step through a barrier and goodbye Jay.
Damien hoped Denton had filled Jay in on the same details, since Denton had vacated abruptly, leaving him under the passing Blue Beret patrol in the dining concourse and the odd operative or two, not to mention someone watching the security camera feeds. All while Denton was probably hunting Sophia and the third Phoenix virus.
‘Damien!’
Aviary half yelled, half whispered. She was standing at the far end of the platform, on the ramp. Her orange-red hair was unmistakable, damp from the hurricane. She started running toward him. He could already hear she was out of breath. She seemed to be alone. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.
He held his hand out. ‘Stop!’
‘I know,’ Aviary said, slowing to a walk. ‘Nasira is trapped with Jay. Triggered a new box of sensors. So I snuck inside.’ She held up her iPhone. ‘The cameras are under my control now.’
She was searching the tunnel walls above the trains. She pointed to a pair he hadn’t noticed.
‘There,’ she said.
‘Are there any more?’ he said.
Aviary looked closer but shook her head. ‘Just the extra pair.’
‘I can’t get out,’ Damien said. ‘You’ll have to leave me.’
She shot him an offended stare. ‘I’m here to save you, mister.’
Damien watched as she moved for a gap between train carriages. Nimbly and with a speed that impressed him, she climbed between the carriages and onto the roof.
‘I’ll need to disable the spare set of sensors first,’ she said, ducking under the crisscross of wires that suspended the fluorescent lights in place.
He watched her walk to the sensor. It was attached to the ceiling — or more accurately a wire mesh ceiling below the actual ceiling.
‘Hey Aviary,’ he said.
‘Yeah?’ she said, gleefully brandishing the Philips head screwdriver on her multitool.
‘Don’t blow us up,’ he said.
‘You mean Jay?’ Aviary said.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Don’t blow him up.’
‘Copy that.’ She popped the panel on the motion sensor. ‘Roger that, in position. Over. Standby. In progress. Over and out.’
Damien shook his head in silence. He hoped she knew what she was doing. He watched her remove three wires — red, black, yellow — and then pop a small disc-shaped battery from the panel.
‘Disabled,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘No.’
Aviary slid down off the roof and sprinted to the train on the other side of the platform. She climbed between another two carriages and moved carefully across the roof to the sensor. Within moments she’d disabled that sensor as well.
‘OK, that’s the easy part,’ she said.
Aviary crawled under a length of wire and continued along the carriage roof. Her hands were black from the grime on top of the carriage.