Saint (Gateway Series Book 2) (25 page)

Martin slowly rose to her feet. Around her lay the torn and distorted bodies of followers mixed with hundreds of empty casings from the tank’s guns.

“It’s just a little further,” said Dan-Lee as he pointed toward a tall building in the distance. “A few hundred yards to that brick building. There’s an access on the west end which leads to a secret passage to the Saint’s chamber.”

Before Martin could answer, a massive nearby explosion almost knocked her to the ground. As she covered her head, glass from shattered window fell around them. “Shit,” declared Martin as she shook her head to clear the ringing in her ears.

“The tank?” mused Dan-Lee.

Martin saw a cloud of dust and debris drifting from the location of the tank and sprinted toward the opposite side of the intersection. Stopping and kneeling at the corner, she peered down the barrel of her rifle. “Son of a bitch!” she said aloud as she saw the massive Humani tank burning. All around the tank lay the bodies of more followers. From what Martin could tell, the explosion had come from underneath the tank.

“I knew they would get it eventually,” replied Dan-Lee as he reached Martin.

“They must’ve mined the street,” stated Martin.

“Doubt it. More than likely they distracted the crew by trying to board it again while a few slid underneath it.”

“Underneath?” Martin laughed in disbelief. “The heat and pressure from hover engines would have melted the flesh off of them,” replied Martin. “They wouldn’t have survived three seconds under there.”

“Three seconds is enough,” replied Dan-Lee. “And the heat alone would ignite most explosives.”

Martin thought about the willingness of the followers to sacrifice themselves. “The Humani are going to regret this invasion.”

“If they don’t stop it here, this madness will spread throughout the Dark Zone. But maybe that’s what it needs—a cleansing.”

“What are you talking about?”

Martin could see the frustration on Dan-Lee’s face as he responded. “You Humani have no idea what it’s like to live on one of these planets. For most of us, life in the Dark Zone consists of hunger, fear, and oppression at the hands of warlords and psychopaths.”

“Like the Phel?” shot back Martin. She had forgotten they were in the middle of an active battle. Her attention was drawn completely toward Dan-Lee. She could see his face grow flushed and his jaw clench tight with anger.

“You and your damned Elite Guard…you’re all murderers, yet you try to besmirch the Phelian order!” he shouted as stepped toward her.

Martin’s blood pumped hard through her body. Her realization of the great lie about her civilization did not ease the sting of being called a murderer. “It’s not hard to dirty the name of a forgotten race of mercenaries and assassins,” she said, stepping forward as well.

“Humani trash!”

Martin leveled her rifle toward Dan-Lee’s head. She could feel her emotions starting to derail her plan but she didn’t care. “Sad little orphan Phel. If your people were better fighters, you wouldn’t be the last one.”

Dan-Lee’s amber eyes burned with anger as he stared, unafraid, into Martin’s. “Maybe it is time we finished what we started in the cell.”

Martin smiled. She had wanted this almost as much as getting at the Saint. “Sounds good to me,” she replied. “But first, why is a Phel working for the Humani? And don’t give me that money bullshit.”

She saw his eyes show of mixture of rage and determination. She knew the feeling well.

“Revenge.”

“What?” replied Martin.

A distant explosion echoed against the walls of the buildings and Dan-Lee started to lunge toward her.

“Whoa, there,” she warned as she moved the rifle slightly to remind him she could fire at any second. She could see the frustration growing in her companion. “Why are you here?”

“Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath. “I hoped acting as a spy for the ProConsul would eventually get me onto Alpha Humani and near the ones that ordered the extinction of my people. When I heard a Paladin was captured, I figured I’d hitch myself to you and ensure a trip to Alpha Humani, where I will take the lives of everyone in the lineage of former ProConsul Denara Ragna, the one who ordered my people’s death.”

“So you’re double-crossing them?” Martin felt a hint of respect start to grow for Dan-Lee where anger and frustration had been before. But she knew better than to take a man’s word at face value. “And why are you telling me now…other than the gun I have pointed at your head?”

“Your Elite Guard arrogance and Humani elitism are more than I can stomach. You people think everything is yours for the taking.”

He was right. And she had been part of it all. She had to tell him the truth. Martin lowered her rifle slightly. “You don’t understand—”

Martin glanced upward as a Humani hawk screamed overhead, firing its guns at a retreating Crucesignatis aircraft. She sensed Dan-Lee moving and looked back toward him but he was too fast. Martin’s rifle was knocked from her hands and a powerful kick to her chest sent her tumbling backwards.

Quickly recovering, Martin stood and twisted her body away from Dan-Lee’s sword. “Wait!” she shouted as she grabbed his arm in an attempt to gain control of his sword. She strained against his impressive strength. “You don’t have to do this!”

“Shut up!” replied Dan-Lee.

Martin’s feet left the ground as Dan-Lee swept her legs. She grunted as she hit the hard uneven ground but was able to deflect a downward thrust of his sword. Sensing Dan-Lee was off-balance, she brought her knee upwards into his ribcage and quickly wrapped her arm around his neck. Squeezing tightly, she slid on top of Dan-Lee and put all of her weight into keeping his head pointed downward. “You’ve got to listen to me,” she pleaded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to talk with her arms around his neck. “I’m not your—” She felt him push upward and she spread her legs wide as she leaned over him, trying to maintain leverage. Grunting heavily and straining her body, Martin pushed hard on her opponent’s shoulders and struggled to maintain her arms locked around his neck and head.

“I don’t want to fight you!” she groaned as she tilted her head upward and arched her back to hold Dan-Lee in position. Martin’s muscles spasmed as the stronger opponent continued to pull on her arm. Her grip slipped ever-so-slightly and she quickly tried to recover, but her opponent was too quick and strong. Feeling Dan-Lee push forward as she lost her grip on his neck, Martin brought her knee up quickly toward his face but felt him block her attack and lift her into the air.

“I’m…trying…to…talk,” she grumbled as she gave Dan-Lee four solid punches to the side of his head, causing him to stagger and throw her forward. Hitting the ground, Martin quickly rose to her feet and took up a defensive stance. “Will you stop for a minute?” she pleaded.

“What’s wrong?” Dan-Lee smiled. “Too much for you? Your daddy isn’t here to help you?” He rushed toward her.

His words tore into her like a knife and sent a spasm of rage through her body. She focused her anger on her target as he swung at her. Ducking below the first hard right hook, she rapidly landed a blow to his kidneys and brought her right foot against her opponent’s right knee, forcing him to the ground. As he fell, she grabbed his right arm and, extending it, she flung her leg over his body and drove his torso into the ground. Twisting with Dan-Lee’s body, Martin landed with her back on the ground and her legs locked over his chest and neck with arm extended over her waist.

“Asshole,” she yelled as she pulled hard on his wrist and felt his elbow start to hyperextend. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut.” Focusing on torqueing her body to put maximum pressure on Dan-Lee’s elbow, she didn’t feel him shift his torso toward her until it was too late. Martin felt her knees being pressed against her chest as he rolled on top of her. Unwilling to release her opponent’s arm, she wrenched his wrist backward, causing him to let out a groan. Despite his pain, however, she felt his free hand grasp her uniform near her shoulder and again lift her into the air.

“Humani bitch!” he shouted.

Martin felt a rush of air followed by a bolt of pain in her side as he slammed her onto the ground. Before she could catch her breath, he brought his knee into her stomach. The air partially left her body and pain shot through her ribs as she rolled away and rose up to her knees. From her knees she looked up to see Dan-Lee step toward her and swing his right foot toward her head. Pain shot through her forearms as she blocked his kick, but she reacted quickly and grasped Dan-Lee’s right leg with one arm and lifted his other off the ground, causing him to fall backward. As he fell, she gripped his shirt with both hands for leverage and jumped into the air, coming down with her right knee on his groin.

She heard him let out a groan as she pulled herself forward onto his body and slammed her fist into his nose, feeling the cartilage snap. “Stubborn prick!” She swung again.

Dan-Lee blocked the punch and pulled her downward as he landed a punch of his own against her jaw. She felt her neck twist against the force of his punch but gripped Dan-Lee’s torso with her legs like a rider on a bucking horse. She blocked his next punch and drove her head downward toward his nose only to feel a sharp pain in her right cheek as his left elbow crashed into her head and then wrapped around her neck.

“You’re pissin’ me off,” grumbled Martin, spitting blood and part of a tooth as she struggled to get her arm between her neck and Dan-Lee’s chest. “I’m not…” She grunted loudly as she shoved her arm through her attacker’s tight grip, preventing him from locking in his choke hold. “I’m not your enemy. I don’t—”

A blow to her ribs sent a bolt of pain through her body. Martin gritted her teeth and let out a growl against Dan-Lee’s powerful grip. “Asshole,” she grumbled through her blood-filled mouth as she reached for the medical pack in her pocket. She quickly felt for the neuro-injector. As her hand grasped the injector, she flipped up the cover and rammed the injector against Dan-Lee’s ribs. Martin heard him grunt and felt his body recoil against the injection, but his powerful arms still locked her body in his grasp. Reaching for another injector, she again stabbed the medicine into his ribcage followed by a series of punches. With the last punch, Dan-Lee’s grip loosened and she quickly capitalized and pushed her body upward away from his, landing another blow to his right temple as she did.

Rolling off Dan-Lee, Martin quickly jumped to her feet and into a fighting stance as her attacker did the same. A slight stumble told Martin the overdose of meds was doing the trick and had started to slow Dan-Lee’s reflexes. Blocking a powerful but slightly off-balance right hand from Dan-Lee, she pivoted at her waist and crashed her right foot into his ribs followed by left hook to his face. Her target stumbled to his left and Martin again attacked, landing a spinning kick to his chest and knocking him to the ground.

Dan-Lee was back onto his knees when she swung another right foot toward his head. Still fighting, he blocked her kick and swung toward her midsection. Martin pivoted away from his punch and with a loud grunt, spun and crashed her left foot into the back of his head, sending him falling forward toward the ground, unconscious.

“Dick,” said Martin as she took in a deep breath. Exhaling, she let her body settle from the waves of anger at Dan-Lee’s comment about her father, satisfaction from a good fight, and—she hated to admit it—respect for the lengths he was willing to go through to exact his revenge. “Maybe next time,” she said to the unconscious Dan-Lee with a smile as she reached down for her rifle.

Chapter 19

Martin peered around the corner across from the brick building. In the front of the building, the main commons area was covered with Crucesignatis troops and random followers preparing to defend the entrance with their lives. The tops of the building were dotted with troops as well. Then she saw it—an angled, padlocked door at the west end of the building surrounded by a dozen Crucesignatis and several priests. “Shit,” she mouthed as she looked for a way to get into the building.

Suddenly the air around the front of the building flashed bright and the commons area disappeared in cataclysmic cauldron of fire, smoke, and debris. Martin took a quick breath, turned and curled her body as the blast wave hit her, knocking her off her feet. Gasping for breath, she rolled onto her back as the dust slowly settled around her. Looking upward from her prone position, she saw an eagle bomber banking out of its bombing run.

Slowly regaining her feet, Martin again peered around the corner. The front quarter section of the building was gone, its bricks strewn all around the commons area, along with dozens of mangled and charred bodies. She then looked toward the side access; the guards around the entrance remained dug in and ready to defend themselves.

Movement in the commons area again drew her attention. She looked on as one, then two, and suddenly dozens of Crucesignatis troops began to rise out of the destruction.
Tunnels
, Martin thought to herself.

“Don’t move!” came an order from behind her.

Shit
, she thought in frustration at allowing someone to sneak up on her.

“Drop the rifle and raise your hands!” commanded the voice.

Martin clenched her teeth tightly and inhaled a heavy breath through her nose before she let her rifle fall to the ground. She slowly stood and turned to see four priests, each with a rifle pointed toward her.

A nearby explosion jarred her and the priests.

“You don’t want to waste your time on little ole me—”

A hawk roared overhead and a low boom resonated through Martin’s body as the craft accelerated above the speed of sound.

“Besides, you’ve got bigger problems.” She smiled as she glanced to her right and slowly pointed her upraised hand in the same direction toward a squad of Elite Guard troops standing with weapons ready. As the priest started to turn, the Elite Guard troops opened fire, riddling the priests with bullets.

As the sound of gunfire died down, Martin picked up her rifle and looked back toward the Guardsmen. “Nice timing,” she said.

“Paladin Martin?” she heard a familiar voice call her name.

“Lowstreet!” Martin smiled as she recognized the grizzled sergeant from her time in the Guard. “What the hell are you doing here?”             

“The ProConsul’s bidding, of course,” replied Martin with a sarcastic tone as she looked over the other Guardsmen. “Who’s in command? Desro?”

“No. He’s on special duty on Port Royal looking for Stone and that Terillian Scout Ranger.”

“Stone’s on Port Royal?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Martin now knew her next destination. She would find him and the truth on Port Royal.

“Sergeant!” shouted an Elite Guard lieutenant just reaching the group with another squad in tow. “What the hell are you doing with this inhabitant?”

“Sir, this is—”

“We’ve got a mission, Sergeant,” interrupted the lieutenant.

Martin looked at his nametag. Braxus.
Figures
. “What’s the problem, Lieutenant? Having trouble recognizing your superiors?”

She saw the surprise in the officer’s eyes as he recognized her.

“Yes, Major…I mean Paladin,” he stammered. “I was not briefed—”

“Of course you weren’t. It’s above your pay grade.”

“Yes, Paladin Martin,” he replied with a salute.

Martin grabbed the lieutenant’s hand. “Don’t salute me in the field, dumbass,” she ordered. “Are you trying to get me shot?” She then turned toward Lowstreet and curled the right side of her mouth in disappointment.

Lowstreet turned his head away from the lieutenant. “F-N-G,” he mouthed.

“I need some of your men,” declared Martin. “I’ll take Lowstreet’s squad.”

“Yes, of course, Paladin,” replied the officer. “I’ll turn command of the platoon over to Sergeant Hall and join you.”

“No, Lieutenant, you won’t,” replied Martin. “Just Lowstreet and his men.”

“But—”

“Thanks, LT,” she interrupted. “But I will need your sword.” She reached down toward the officer’s belt and unhinged the sheath. She gave him a smile in response to his stunned, dumbstruck look as she took the proud officer’s sword. “Thanks, kid,” she added as she gave his shoulder a slap and turned back toward Lowstreet. “Ready, Lowstreet?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Lowstreet with a smile.

“Good, gather your men—” Martin paused and turned toward the Lieutenant Braxus. “Oh…you can continue with your mission, Lieutenant; we’re good here,” she said dismissively.

“Yes, ma’am. As you command.” The lieutenant pouted as he turned toward the remainder of his platoon. “Move out!” he shouted, transitioning his anger at Martin’s dismissive attitude toward his men.

Martin turned back toward Lowstreet. “We need to get at those bastards over there,” she stated as she pointed toward the men guarding the access.

“Easy day,” responded Lowstreet.

“That’s what I like to hear. We need to occupy them with an enfilading fire on their left flank and provide direct fire from over there.” She pointed toward a wrecked vehicle near a partially collapsed building. “We’ll shift the base of fire slowly toward their left flank. Once they’re engaged, I’ll take two of your men and hit them hard from their right.”

“Done,” replied Lowstreet as he turned toward his men. “Fire team Alpha, you’re gonna lay down some smoke and move into position by the building for direct fire. Li, Bradley, you two will follow me around their left flank and engage. Hamari and Dawes follow Paladin Martin.” Lowstreet paused and looked each Guardsmen in the eyes. “Questions?”

Martin instantly missed the Guard. She had dreamed of the day should could get back among her fellow warriors. But she knew too much.

“Good,” said Lowstreet as no one spoke. “Alpha, on my mark….smoke away!” he ordered and two Guardsmen threw smoke grenades between themselves and the enemy troops at the access.

As the smoke grenades left the Guardsmens’ hands, Martin turned toward the two men assigned to her. “Let’s go!” she shouted as she rushed forward.

Martin and the two Guardsmen had covered a few meters when she heard gunfire erupt from Alpha fire team. The gunfire grew in volume as she rushed past a burning military truck and bodies of Crucesignatis soldiers and common followers. Her heart raced with the exhilarating rush of combat. As she reached a small fence, she placed her hand on the top and swung her body over in a fluid motion. Landing in a kneeling position with her rifle to her shoulder, she was followed immediately by the two Guardsmen. Two Condor fighters flashed overhead followed by the rumble of a sonic boom as she looked down the barrel of her rifle toward her goal.

Her tactic was working. Several of the defenders were already dead or injured by the heavy fire of the other Guardsmen. Five defenders remained and they were fully occupied either taking cover or returning fire through the deluge. Martin squeezed tightly with her right hand and held her rifle to her shoulder as she motioned for the two men to move forward with her left. The first Guardsman sprinted toward a civilian vehicle riddled with bullets. He dropped to the ground by the vehicle and brought his rifle to his shoulder as the second man rushed past and knelt behind a tall, thick tree. Martin was on the move as soon as the first man took his position, alternating between the ground in front of her and the enemy troops, she quickly moved past the others and slid into place behind a concrete rubbish housing.

She couldn’t help but smile. Martin and the two Guardsmen were in perfect position.
Nothing like working with professionals
, she thought. Without a comms link, Martin raised her hand to signal the other two to select their targets and to fire on her first round. With their acknowledgment, Martin rested her rifle on the edge of the concrete barrier.

She felt and timed her heartbeat.

She took in a slow controlled breath as she moved her finger to the trigger.

She centered her sights on her first target.

And fired.

The enemy soldier fell and she quickly shifted to her second target as she heard her companion’s fire. Taken completely by surprise, the enemy troops all fell before they realized they had been outflanked. Martin saw a wounded soldier attempt to turn a weapon toward their position, but a burst of gunfire from the Guardsman to her left toppled him backward.

Martin rose to her feet and quickly moved toward the access. Slowing as she reached the position, Martin looked over the scene. The Guardsmen’s fire had been devastating. Over a dozen enemy troops and several priests were spread around the access door. As she moved between the bodies checking for signs of life, she heard a low moan to her left. Martin looked down to see a Crustagenios soldier on his side, curled tightly into a ball. Placing her foot on the man’s shoulder, she slowly rolled him onto his back.

The dying soldier’s eyes met hers. Martin didn’t see anguish or despair; instead the man’s face was almost glowing in a smile.

“The Word transcends death. And the Saint is the Word,” he said softly.

“Crazy son of a—” Martin saw the man’s bloody hands open and a grenade roll from his grasp onto the ground. “—bitch!” She turned and dove over the opposite side of the battlement.

The concussion from the blast stunned Martin, and a sharp pain pierced her ears from the rapid pressure change. Still a little foggy from the explosion, she pulled herself to her feet and shook her head as she leaned against the battlement.

“You okay?” asked Lowstreet as he and the others reached her position.

“Uh…yeah,” replied Martin with one more shake of her head.

She looked over the barrier. The already devastated area looked like the inside of a meat grinder.

“That one was close,” stated Lowstreet.

Martin turned toward the sergeant. “Keep your guard up. These guys aren’t afraid to die, especially if they can take out one of us.”

“We’ve been mowing ’em down since we landed,” replied Lowstreet. “But they keep coming. It’s crazy.”

“Faith,” she replied as she looked upon the mangled body of a priest. Some of his tattoos were still visible through his hideous wounds. “We need to put them down and make sure they stay down, Lowstreet,” she declared. “Keep shooting until you know they’re dead.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” acknowledged Martin as she refocused. “Let’s get this door open and find this Saint asshole”

“Done,” replied Lowstreet as she motioned for his men. “Mitchell, Torres, access that door.”

Martin watched the two men place a charge on the door as the rest of the squad stacked up along the wall adjacent to the access. Crouching down, she heard the loud
pop
of the breaching charge and rose to leap over the barrier. Swinging herself over the battlement, she fell in line as the squad entered the door and descended a small stairway.

“Contact front!” she heard, followed by a quick burst of gunfire.

“Contact right!” More gunfire.

Moving forward she quickly reached the center of a dimly lit room. Two Guardsmen covered a door at the opposite end of the room as the rest fanned around the space. Near the opposite door lay two Crustagenios troops. To the right lay a dead priest.

“Clear front!”

“Clear right!”

“Clear left!”

A powerful explosion from above shook the room and sent dust and debris raining down from the ceiling.

“Eagles and Hawks have been pounding the entrance. We need to keep moving,” Martin declared as she stepped behind one of the Guardsmen at the door and peered down a long passageway. Two doors were visible on each side with the opposite end obscured in darkness.

“Alpha clear right. Bravo clear left,” she said, turning back to Lowstreet. “We’ll cover forward.”

Martin and Lowstreet moved into the long passageway with each of Lowstreet’s fire teams hugging a wall behind them. Martin dropped to one knee as she passed the first door, keeping her focus on the darkness at the end of the passageway. She heard the doors behind her being kicked open and the rustle of footsteps as each team entered.

“Clear!” came from each room.

Martin was starting to rise when she saw a flash of metal in the distant darkness. Then another. “Contact forward!” she shouted and opened fire as a wall of followers poured from the darkness.

She felt the recoil and picked another target as the Guardsmen behind her opened fire as well. Peering down the barrel, the wave grew closer and she shifted her rifle to full automatic with a flick of her thumb. She matched the rhythm of the recoil with the selection of targets as the wave grew closer by the second. The onrush of flesh reminded her of waves crashing against a rocky shore in a turbulent crescendo a few meters from her position.