Rage (32 page)

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Authors: Matthew Costello

BOOK: Rage
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It was always a shitty procedure to field-test a weapon during an operation. In this case, he had no choice.

He reached up for one of the darts and, using the same stance he took with his wingstick, threw it.

It hit one of the front runners, who stopped as if someone applied the brakes. He reached up to his neck. His partner kept coming. Raine crouched down to the side, making himself as small a target as possible, blindly firing his machine gun. While still sending out a spray of bullets, he fingered the mind dart control device, and as soon as his fingers touched it, it must have sent a signal to the nanotrites now flooding the Enforcer’s body.

He could hear more Enforcers arriving, creating a wall of shooters, filling the corridor with smoke and sending bullets flying all around him like a swarm of wasps.

Raine slid his thumb on the controller, and the dart forced
the Enforcer to turn around. Another slide, and the puppet moved toward his Authority buddies.

They recognized that something was wrong, and a few began targeting him.

Amazingly—the bullets did nothing.

Or, rather, they didn’t stop him. The guy walked on, and then—in an increased state of agitation—both his hands went to his neck, then to his head, like a human marionette.

He would keep moving on his own; Raine didn’t have to do anything more with him, so he dropped the control device. He took time to aim his rifle at the lone Enforcer still running madly toward him.

Points for bravery … none for strategy.

He riddled the guy with bullets, not knowing where the armor was greatest.

As that guy fell, the Enforcer with the mind dart reached the wall of shooters.

With perfect timing, he exploded, a human bomb of blood and bone—the bone shredded into deadly shrapnel, the nanotrites themselves apparently explosive.

When the pinkish fog cleared, nobody was shooting, nobody was moving. And the way to the cable room, to where the ship’s power fed into the Capital, lay ahead.

“Thanks, Kvasir …”

Raine stood up and resumed his jog.

In the generator room he spotted the massive two-foot-wide cables that carried power from the belly of the ship, out through what had to be a hangar deck opening, and on into the fortress city.

He remembered what Portman had told him about the explosives he carried, the homemade grenades.

“Pull the pin, and toss it. Fifteen seconds. Tops.”

Not much confidence about the devices’ timing from Portman. He would just have to hope the big man knew what he was talking about.

Raine went to where the cables led out—then separated—heading in different directions. He scrambled on top of the giant cables, using them as if they were a bridge leading out to the city’s perimeter.

Would two of the grenades be enough?

He’d probably get only one shot at this.

He looked up. A small device hovered above the area, a red light at the front.

Surveillance.

They know I’m here, and they will know I’m coming.

Let’s hope they think this is just about sabotage.

Raine walked across the cable bridge, joining up with the other end of the road that led across the flight deck of the carrier.

He got two grenades out.

He brought his hands close together so he could pull out both pins at the same time, a tricky, fumbling move.

Not one I’ve done before, he thought.

He pulled the pins, and, without counting, tossed them into the cable room.

One landed in the crack between the two cables, the other rolled to the floor, feet away.

Close enough?

Raine turned and started running. Barely watching where he was going …

The two explosions, within seconds of each other, showed that at least the grenades worked.

He had barely gotten off the ship.

And still running, he risked looking ahead.

The Capital.

A massive structure, like nothing he had seen in the world before. Newly built.

And he also saw that parts of it had turned dark.

Did I do enough damage? Did I buy enough fucking time?

He caught himself.
A … to B … to C.

He was on to the next part of the mission.

That one lay ahead.

Inside the Capital.

And that’s all he let himself think about.

FORTY-ONE
3:20
A.M.

R
aine looked at the fence in front of him, and at the gun turrets that dotted each section of it. As he approached, they didn’t move at all, all pointing aimlessly at some spot back by the carrier.

Power down. Good.

But for how long?

Inside, he saw the main buildings of the Capital, and they were not the haphazard collection of shapes and leftover pieces of Wasteland junk. These were stories high, forming a sleek metal fortress.

Now dark.

No backup power kicking in?

If only he could stay that lucky.

He pictured the layout that Elizabeth had showed him, and which building he had to get to.

Already he saw figures running all around the inner area. Enforcers kicking into action while the power got restored.

Raine had debated blowing a hole in the fence—but with the Enforcers already on the move, that would bring them right to him. So he took hold of the steel mesh and started climbing right near one of the inactive gun turrets. It dawned on him that the fence was probably electrified as well.

Without power, though, the way into the Capital lay open.

At the top, he swung over, climbed down the other side for a few feet and jumped to the ground.

Without light he’d be hard to see. And if anyone did spot him, hopefully they wouldn’t at first be able to tell him from one of the scrambling Enforcers.

He started running.

To the prison building … and a massive shaft that pumped out exhaust from the kitchens below.

But the shaft was quiet at the moment, and if the plans were right, it provided a hole that led into the belly of this building.

Raine looked over his shoulder and saw Enforcers by the fence, guns lowered but on alert. Other Enforcers had to be heading to the generator on the carrier.

If there were power backups, nobody had thrown the switch yet—or maybe they were dedicated to the complex’s vital, internal systems.

He turned on the headlamp Elizabeth had given him and climbed into the exhaust shaft.

It went down, then horizontal, wending its way deeper into the building.

He moved as quietly as he could, the space too tight for anything more than a crawl. And when he hit a part that led straight
down, he wedged his legs and arms against the sides and painfully inched his way downward.

Back and forth, like navigating a maze, every now and then hearing sounds outside the shaft, knowing from the plans that he was cutting through the Enforcers’ barracks.

Hoping they were all outside dealing with the crisis.

A few feet down, his arms and shoulders gave out and he slipped for a few frightening seconds. He pressed his legs to the sides and stopped the fall.

But this also produced a loud scratching sound. He paused, waiting to hear if this tight air shaft was about to be his final resting place.

Nothing.

A breath, then he went farther down.

When he hit bottom—when the shaft turned flat—that would be where the cells were.

If the layout that Elizabeth had was accurate.

It had been up to this point. But if it wasn’t … who knew where he’d end up.

His feet touched bottom and he had just enough room to bring his head down and start crawling forward.

Now to find an opening, some place where the shaft could be kicked out and he could get out of the shaft.

He didn’t let himself think that he’d gotten into the Capital.

But he couldn’t help but think:
How the hell will I get out?

Farther along, he came to a square panel in the shaft, his headlamp picking up the screws that held it in place. It didn’t look large enough for him to crawl through.

But it looked like the only option.

He dug out a knife from his pack and went to work on the
screws, the pointed end of the knife chewing up the metal head of the screws as much as it unscrewed them.

But taking his time, slowing a bit so he didn’t completely strip the screws, he got them out.

When the last screw fell to the floor of the shaft, he gave the panel a nudge.

It could be pushed free.

But where was he? Who might be there to see the panel fall out?

Surprise!

One thing he knew, one change to the plan: there was no way—if he did find Marshall—they would be able to get out this way.

Might as well just surrender.

Checking that he had a handgun in a side pocket, he wriggled the backpack free and nudged it down to his feet. His pack would have to trail behind him if he had any hope of getting out. He’d have to perform a circus trick to do it, pulling the pack along with his feet as he fell.

He thought of turning the headlamp off.

No, he thought. Better to leave it on. Could be a useful distraction.

If someone is down there waiting for me.

All right then, he thought. Time to go.

He gave the metal panel a firm push and it popped free, flying out, followed by him rapidly crawling through the newly made opening.

He tumbled to the floor.

Raine’s hands broke his fall, the pack landing on his body. He quickly rolled and sprung to his feet.

To see: cells. The corridor dark.

The right place.
Jeez, the prison.
He did it.

Then, a voice.

“Hey, who’s there? Hold on.”

The headlamp rendered Raine the only bright spot in the blackness, but it also shot out a light that let him see—and made it difficult for anyone looking at him.

Such as the Enforcer holding a rifle standing in front of him, the light in his eyes.

Raine pulled out his gun. No time to worry if the Enforcer had anyone with him. He fired three quick shots, the sound echoing in the narrow corridor.

The Enforcer went down.

And then Raine heard an unexpected voice. A familiar voice.

A
female
voice.

He moved down the row of cells, whipping his headlamp left and right.

Coming to a cell holding Loosum Hagar.

“Loosum? How the hell did you—”

“I’ll save the story for later, Raine. Go get that Enforcer’s keys and get me out of here. Whatever took out the power, it won’t stay down for long.”

Raine ran back for the keys and returned to the cell, letting Loosum out.

“Thanks for the rescue,” she said. “Didn’t know you cared.”

“Afraid I’m not here for you,” he said unapologetically. “Is there someone else down here?”

Could the Authority have taken Marshall, begun the process of breaking him down in the middle of the night? Could the Resistance leader be dead already?

“There’s someone down the other end. Looked like a bloody mess when they brought him back last time.”

Raine ran there. A man was curled on the floor of a cell. The headlamp picked up the dried splotches of blood. The man’s
lips were cracked, bloody as well. He had been well worked over.

But he lifted his head up when he saw someone there, then opened his eyes.

Raine thought:
Good … he can move.

“Captain John Marshall?”

“Yes.” Despite his battered state, the man sat up, blinking at Raine. “Is it time? Already?”

“Captain, I’m Lieutenant Nicholas Raine.” Then, as he had done dozens of times before—and because it seemed right—he added: “Reporting for duty.”

And he saluted.

Loosum ran up to Raine as he got Marshall’s cell open.

“We
got
to get moving. As long as we have this darkness, we have to take advantage of it.”

On cue: the lights in the corridor flickered, then came on.

“Shit.” He turned to Marshall. “
That
changes things. You okay to move, Captain?”

Marshall nodded. “Yeah. Got a gun for me?”

“One for me, too,” Loosum added.

He handed the shotgun to Loosum and the rifle to Marshall. He’d make do with the handguns for now.

“Come on,” Loosum said.

Raine gave her a look. “Hold on.” He looked at Marshall. “Captain, one more thing. I brought a hard drive. From the Dead City. Lassard has cracked the Ark override code. It’s on there. But we need to—”

Marshall shook his head as if trying to understand what the hell Raine was talking about.

Then a half smile. “God, yes. Have to get into their system.
That means we’re not quite ready to leave. Good thing everyone must be outside looking for you.”

“We’re not leaving?” Loosum rolled her eyes.

“There’s a terminal … down there.” Marshall pointed up the hall. “It’s gotta be tied into the central computer. If we can dump what you got on their computer system, that should do it.”

Marshall started walking, limping even as he tried to hurry.

Raine shot a look at Loosum, both of them seeing that escaping with the captain wasn’t going to be easy even without the detour.

But Marshall marched ahead, ignoring his pain, and got to the terminal.

Raine heard voices from above.

Someone has got to come down here, sooner or later.

“Give it to me,” Marshall said. Raine dug out the drive. Marshall tilted it back and forth, seeing where he could connect it to the terminal.

“Okay. We got to get that cover off.”

Raine took out his knife again and used it to pry open the metal siding of the computer. It popped free, exposing the terminal’s insides.

Marshall leaned forward and stared at the array of boards and wires.

“All of this is our tech here,” he said to himself. “Early twenty-first century. Meant for the future.”

Raine stood by the captain’s side as he continued to mutter. “God, I wish Lassard was here. Need to just get it linked so the terminal can read the drive. Then—maybe—we can upload it.”

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