Project Sparta (The Xander Whitt Series Book 1) (23 page)

Chapter 43

The Compound

June 10
th
2011

“Good Morning, Spartans. Today’s forecast is warm and partly cloudy. Please report outside your barracks at oh-nine-hundred. The final points will be distributed in this battle, and a Champion will be crowned after. Tomorrow is our closing ceremonies and the day you will depart from the Compound. Have a good day, Spartans, and remember, nothing is as it seems.”

Xander rose from his bed and pumped out fifty push-ups. He found his mirror and consulted the memory of his body upon entry into the Program. He had been scrawny, hunched, and soft. Now, he saw before him a man carved out of wood. The innocent twinkle in his eye had faded as a gravitas settled in behind them.

Xander would fight in the final battle with first place in sight. Duke had a narrow enough margin on the scoreboard that he knew he could catch him. He knew that it didn’t matter to Hardy or any of the other instructors if he won or not, but he was seventeen and it was a game. To be crowned the top operative of the class would open doors for his career in espionage. Being the competitive guy he was, Xander had a thirst for victory, especially over Duke who had terrorized him for the entire program.

It wasn’t only the final battle that got him up and reeling this morning, but also the fact that today he would escape with Fiona.

Let’s review the facts: For the better part of the program, I have been running reconnaissance on Fiona at the behest of Rearden. I observed her writing down my movements. She attempted to make her usual drop but was spooked and aborted the drop. She then gave those findings to Hardy directly, a move that Hardy did not seem pleased with. Upon infiltrating his office, I saw an email from Hardy to Axle, directing him to dispose of Fiona after the final battle.

The plan: I will have to keep her close to me. If they are using C-4, they are probably planning to blow up her house and call it a suicide, like they probably did for Ezra. If I can injure her during the battle and injure myself, we will both be in the Infirmary, and we can make our move together from there. We will have to find our way into the tunnels to escape the Compound.

After scarfing down three scrambled eggs, Xander walked to the street. Fiona looked over at him as the Spartans lined up for departure, Xander stared ahead. He kept an intense focus on his face. They boarded the transport and changed into their battle suits. There was a nervous silence during the trip. Only the tapping of toes and the bouncing of knees could be heard through the transit. The trip was short. Xander was able to map out their route as usual from the shifts in his weight during the ride. According to his calculation, they had just pulled out of the Compound and into an adjacent hangar not too far away.

The transit doors opened to reveal darkness. The only light was a green glow that came from the distant structure at the center of the hangar. Hardy and the instructors were lined up waiting for the Spartans.

The sight behind them was too enticing not to notice. Every Spartan gaped at it, but Xander resisted the awe and immediately started to commit what he was seeing to memory.

An enormous green cube was suspended between two cranes at the center of the hangar. There were ridges in the cube that formed different alleys. These avenues zigged and zagged around the cube’s façade. Ladders connected each level of the cube so the Spartans could navigate its multiple floors. A stairwell ascended from the floor to an opening in the cube. Each side of the cube measured one hundred and fifty feet. There were multiple levels within it. It was a stack of pathways—a three-dimensional maze.

And they would be fighting in it.

“Spartans, today is your final battle,” Hardy barked. “You know the stakes. Who will prove they can deliver results under pressure? Who will prove they will do anything to win? Who will prove their abilities from training? This battle will enlist everything you have been taught this year, especially the single most important lesson: how to think on your toes. We have built this structure for this specific purpose. We call it the Box, and if you want to survive, I suggest you think outside of it. Good luck Spartans!” Hardy barked, signaling for them to approach the Box. The Spartans had chosen their preloaded weapons during transit. Flash grenades and magazines were strapped to their suits. The grenades were attached to their right thighs and the magazines hung off their belts. Something dawned on Xander.

This is my battle to win. To win, we must think outside the box, literally. My memory can crack the routes of this maze.

He began analyzing its facade, in the hope that he could map it out in his head. He was only able to get a glance at three sides of the six-sided cube, though. He ascended the staircase and entered the Box. Aside from the dimly lit alleyways, the Box was pitch black. Their suits gave off a certain amount of light—enough light to be spotted from a distance. Different colored arrows appeared on the floor of the alleyways.

“Spartans, please follow the colored arrows to arrive at your starting gates,” Anni spoke through their helmets.

The Spartans followed their own colors and spread out to different parts of the Box. Xander was fortunate because his arrows led him to an area that he had already processed. He closed his eyes and mentally drew a blueprint of the alleyways before him, working a mile a minute until his deep concentration was broken by Anni’s countdown.

“Spartans, fight in three, two, one.”

Although his heart jumped at the sound and adrenaline was already coursing through his veins, Xander stayed calm. He proceeded through the alleyways at a cautious pace, while trying to stay close to the region he knew. Xander heard gunfire and the sizzle of the sparks of impact. It sounded like dying fireworks. Then Xander spotted a Spartan ahead of him, falling over with no charge left in his suit. Having only been two minutes in, the first announcement was made.

“Tobias has been eliminated. Eight Spartans remain.”

Xander watched as Tobias’s rigid body slid to the wall where it stuck, motionless, likely dragged by a magnetic force.

Why are the tagged Spartans forced against the wall?

Xander decided his move. He knew that if he sat in his position for too long, he would soon be surrounded, so he began running, light on his feet, careful to make no noise. He saw a streak of orange out of the corner of his eye. It was Seamus, sprinting to his right in the adjacent corridor. He knew he couldn’t catch him without exposure, but he also knew Seamus’s route would lead back to the intersection he had already cleared.

Seamus… Always a loose cannon. A ballistics expert who did not have the gift of tact.

Xander posted to a sectional support that offered good coverage from someone walking down the hall, where he knew Seamus would be any second. He heard a plopping footstep ten feet behind his cover. At the sound, Xander jumped out from the support pillar and fired off three rounds straight into his chest. Seamus didn’t know what had hit him.

When the capsules collided with Seamus’s chest, his suit blew its electrical charge. Sparks flew as if a welder was torching him. The sparks dissipated after a moment and Seamus’s suit went black. He fell with a thud, as his suit paralyzed his body.

“Seamus has been eliminated. Seven Spartans remain.”

Like Tobias, Seamus’s body was magnetized to the Box wall. Again Xander was perplexed as to why the tagged Spartans were stuck to the wall. And then something unexpected began to happen. Xander’s weight nudged him down the long alleyway. The nudge became a pull and soon he noticed the floor beneath his feet began to angle downward. It wasn’t until the gravity had fully shifted and Xander started sliding down the alley when he realized what was happening.

The Box is turning!

Xander remembered the two cranes attached to the cube. He had to stop himself or he would be dead by the time he reached the next turn in the maze. He landed hard on a support pillar that had now become the only floor at the moment. The air was taken out of his lungs by the impact. He looked up at the hall he was just on and realized it had become a vertical shaft. Seamus’s body was still stuck against the same wall, rotating overhead now.

Xander held on to the pillar with his tightest grip, but the Box kept turning, and what was a solution at the time quickly became another problem. He began running down an alleyway that had leveled out beneath him. He knew he had to be quick, so he sprinted as fast as he could with weapon in hand.

As the Box rotated, he ran up the wall and then onto the ceiling and then onto the other wall.

Xander no longer knew his way around the maze, but he noticed that many alleyways began leading toward some sort of central chamber. He heard fire from that direction and saw sparks glinting from around the corner.

“Mac has been eliminated. Six Spartans remain.”

Xander steadied himself near an intersection. No matter how the box, turned he would have a footing. He found a stance and was able to process his surroundings.

Think outside the box!

He cleared his mind and focused on learning the rotational pattern of the Box so he could better navigate the corridors and anticipate its gravitational shifts. After a moment of intense concentration, Xander was able to diagnose the movement of the Box from within, similar to how he was able to chart the transport’s movement from his weight distribution. He cleared his mind, visualizing the rotation of the Box, and only when he felt he had a grasp of it did he start to navigate the hallways. He turned the corner and saw a Spartan falling over herself like a drunkard. It was obvious that she was unable to reestablish any form of balance and was suspended in a state of vertigo.

It was Fiona.

He walked toward her. She fell over again and began rolling as if being thrown around like a rag doll. She dropped her firearm which slid down the alleyway away from her.

“Xander!” Fiona practically pleaded with him, knowing full well she was about to be tagged from the battle. Xander could have raised his weapon and easily shot her and been done with it, but that was not part of his plan. And so Xander helped Fiona to her feet.

“What are you doing? Xander, just tag me already!” She implored, unarmed and defeated.

Xander pulled her in close. “You’re gonna have to trust me,” he said.

Fiona smiled. “Of course I do.”

Xander felt a shift coming on and knew that their adjacent hallway would soon become a vertical chute, twenty feet above the bottom of the cube.

I need her in the Infirmary ward…

It was hard to do, but the time had arrived. Xander spun around her and threw her over his hip. She launched into the adjacent hallway, which then turned vertical, and she fell into the abyss. Her free fall was only broken by the hard impact of the Box’s floor. Her body was engulfed in sparks and her suit powered down to darkness.

“Fiona has been eliminated. Five Spartans remain.”

Right after the announcement, shots flew over Xander from around the corner ahead. He could almost see the capsule bullets whizzing by his helmet in slow motion. A voice rang out from around the corner.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” It was Duke. The voice was growing closer, coming down the hall. Xander poked his gun out from around the corner, but before he could get a shot off his hand was hit. Sparks came from his glove. His gun dropped to the ground and immediately started sliding down the long abyss of the hallway. He had no weapon and his cover was fading fast.

Is this it? Duke has me pinned.

Xander saw his cover turning vertical. He could feel gravity pull him toward the central chamber. He only had one choice—to charge. He jumped out from behind the corner and lunged at Duke. The force of his tackle matched the gravitational shift and both boys went sliding down the alleyway. Xander realized they had gathered too much speed. The shaft was too tall. They would most likely die on impact when they reached the end of the hallway. Duke continued to punch him as they free-fell, and Xander spotted one last support beam before the wall. He leaned to his left as Duke punched him square in the helmet. Sparks flew as Xander collided heavily with the support beam and grabbed hold of Duke. Weak and with a small amount of charge left in his suit, Xander held Duke’s arm as he hung with nothing but the abyss below him. The remaining drop was about sixty feet according to Xander’s best guess.

“Nice catch,” Duke said, just as he noticed the pitfall below him.

“Hold on!” Xander knew he didn’t have to pull Duke up to safety, but the Box would complete its rotation and come up to give both of them a ground to stand on. Xander’s grip was loosening and Duke had begun to slip from his forearm to his wrist. Xander gritted his teeth and held as tight as he could. Then Duke slipped from his wrist to his hand, and then started slipping fast. The floor came up from beneath them just as Duke fell from Xander’s grip. Duke slid down the hallway toward the central chamber of the cube, but judging from the slower speed, he would be okay.

I just saved Duke’s life. He probably doesn’t even realize it.

With no gun and little charge, Xander knew his time was short. He sat for a moment and rested so he could catch his breath and collect any strength he had left after his free fall and painful impact with the crossbeam. Xander reviewed his equipment. The only weapons he had were the grenades attached to his leg, his suit was probably on 10 percent charge, and four other Spartans remained.