Distracted from taking another shot, Taylor took the opportunity to smack the man in the face with his pistol. He collapsed unconscious to the floor. Jafar rushed through to the bedroom and hauled the man out, who was dazed but still conscious. Taylor yanked the dart out from his armour and looked at it with surprise and intrigue.
“What do you suppose are in them, Jafar?”
The alien reached over and took it from his hands, jamming it into the throat of the man he was holding. He went limp immediately in his hand.
“What did you do that for?”
He stepped up to the body and felt for a pulse. It was still there.
“It’s not lethal, but you didn’t know that beforehand.”
Jafar had nothing to say on the subject. Taylor took off the man’s helmet and pulled it on to his head. The night vision gave him a near perfect view of everything around. He looked down and quickly studied everything on the man.
“French Special Forces. Can’t be.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s crazy, Jafar.”
He thought back over the day’s events.
“Oh, no, the Spanish going after the camps tomorrow; Spiteri is probably a hero for the Earth for Humans campaign. Him being forced to kill protestors because of the UEN, when he actively supports the execution of the aliens. The conflict within him is something they can cling to, and rally more people to their cause.”
Jafar looked completely confused by the hypothesis.
It seemed farfetched and bizarre, so much so, it made a little sense to Taylor.
“Spiteri is the perfect man to highlight the stupidity and absurdity of keeping the Krys alive. They’re here to rescue him before sentencing.”
Taylor still couldn’t believe the French President could be in on it, but he knew plenty of those around him would be capable of it.
“Come on, we have to stop this, and make sure Spiteri gets to that sentencing tomorrow, or he’ll be a catalyst for war in Europe.”
They each took one of the rifles from the incapacitated Frenchmen and rushed out the door, leaving only the hotel concierge still backed up against one of the walls and frozen stiff in fear.
Taylor was at a jogging pace now, going as fast as he could safely do so when he had no idea how many other gunmen occupied the building.
Two marines against God knows how many well training and armed gunmen? Great odds.
The elevators were clearly down, so they headed for the stairs. The door was almost jammed shut and appeared not to have been opened in years. The steps before them were covered in dust. Clearly, they had become completely dependant on the elevators and the expectation they would never fail.
Footsteps thundered down on the stairs from above, most likely another wave of the gunmen they had heard before.
“Where is Spiteri?”
“Two floors above us,” Jafar replied.
“How does the shit seem to follow us wherever we go?” he muttered, as they stormed up the stairs.
Taylor was in the dark, just as he had been during the war. No comms, no technology to aid in enemy troop movements. Just him, a gun, and his friends; or single friend, as was the case here. They flew up the two flights of stairs at lightning speed, twenty seconds ahead of those coming down from the roof.
They both knew they had to deal with those approaching before going any further. They took up positions either side of the corridor, continuing on five metres to a turn that would provide some cover. Then they readied themselves. The troops rushed into the corridor as if there were no threat at all. Taylor could only assume they had seen him and assumed he was one of them, due to his equipment; a single lucky break at least.
He squeezed the trigger, and the dart hit the throat of the first while Jafar’s shot went into the cheek of another. Their two comrades were through the door before they had realised the danger, due to the silent weaponry. They took them down the same way as the first. For a moment they stayed put, waiting for more to come through, but that was the last of them.
Taylor got back up to his feet and pointed for Jafar to go on and lead the way. He knew the location of Spiteri better than he did. As they passed quickly down the corridors, they took a bend and found two gunmen at a doorway and another rushing out with Spiteri at his side. They saw Jafar, and the game was up. Darts soared down the corridor, forcing them to duck back down.
“Shit,” muttered Taylor, “Come on, they must be going for the roof via the other stairs.”
Taylor rushed back to where they had taken down the four Frenchmen and hit the stairs as quickly as he could.
“We have to get there before they do, or we’re finished.”
Taylor was at the front when they burst onto the rooftop, stopping instantly as they were met by the sight of Armand with a pistol to his head.
“Lay down your weapons, or he dies!”
Taylor didn’t know what to do for a moment and looked around for some other possibility. Another dozen French Special Forces occupied the roof, with two transports ready to whisk them away.
“Lay down your weapons, and you will not be harmed!”
“Do it,” said Taylor.
Jafar seemed utterly astonished.
“They don’t mean to hurt us. They don’t want any blood spilled here.”
He put the rifle down, and Jafar reluctantly followed suit.
“You’re sidearms, too!”
Taylor drew out his pistol and put it down before him. As he stood back up, he felt naked. Not a single weapon to hand and helpless to stop them taking Spiteri. Several of the troops rushed past them and down the stairs. It was clear they wanted to recover their wounded. He wasn’t sure if it were evidence they were concerned with, or leaving their comrades behind.
“Thank you for trying!” Armand shouted.
Spiteri strode over to them under the cover of the soldiers and had a broad smile about his face.
“I think you picked the wrong side, Colonel.”
“I wasn’t aware we had any amongst humans.”
“Then you’re an idiot. Look around you. The only time we were unified was when we were at war. It can’t survive during peacetime.”
“They’ll just parade you around as a poster boy for all that’s wrong in the World.”
“Then let them, for I’ll be playing my part in doing what should have been done four years ago. Genocide isn’t a pretty business, but someone has to do it.”
“Maybe they do have to die or be exiled or something, but this isn’t the way! We can’t turn on one another while the threat remains very real. What happens when the next invasion comes and humanity is divided?”
“Then we should be sure to root out alien sympathisers and enablers quickly, and you are one of them, aren’t you. Colonel?” he said, walking over to Jafar and staring at the alien.
“I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t like it, and letting you stand by his side was Taylor’s biggest mistake, and probably his undoing. You’ve lost, Colonel. You’ve let the enemy in. They have manipulated you, and now you let them stand beside you as equal.”
Taylor could see his point of view, even if he knew he was wrong about Jafar.
The French were quick to recover their comrades; a task made easy by the power of the Reitech suits that allowed a soldier to carry another without any restriction at all.