"I didn't know where he was," Braune said as they headed off, "and I thought that Bernhard might have left Kanai down here as backup, so I didn't want to use the tingler."
"But if Bernhard's lost us—"
"He hasn't. I grabbed Pittman and sent him out on Bernhard's tail before I came for you."
Pittman. Great. The man with the martyr leanings. "We've got to find them right away," he growled.
"I know. Over here."
They skidded to a halt at the stairway door. A few meters beyond it, Colvin was kneeling over a prone Jensen. "How is he?" Caine asked, dropping to one knee and checking the other's pulse.
"Out cold, but I don't think he's badly injured," the other replied. "I waved Alamzad over a minute ago and I sent him after Pittman, okay?"
"Yeah." Caine glanced around, but none of Lathe's team was in sight anywhere. "Braune, get back to the lab where you found me and tell Hawking. Colvin and I will go after Bernhard."
"Watch yourselves," Braune warned as he headed off again.
Inside the stairwell, all was quiet. "Which way?" Colvin whispered.
In answer, Caine pointed to the shuriken lying on the second step up. "My guess is the command level. Let's go."
They started to climb, as quietly as possible. Once again, Caine found himself thinking of how well designed for ambushes the staircase was, but again his fears proved unfounded. At each landing they found another throwing star pointing the way farther upward, but that was the only visible indication that anyone had even come this way since their arrival. No sounds other than their own footsteps; no glimpses of either their quarry or their fellow teammates. As they passed the command-center level and still the shuriken led upward, Caine began to wonder if perhaps Bernhard had caught and eliminated his new shadows and left the stars himself as decoys.
But they kept on, and just inside the level-one stairwell door Alamzad was waiting, his nunchaku gripped in his hand. "Where are Lathe and the others?" he hissed as Caine and Colvin stepped to his side.
"Braune's getting them," Caine said. "Where are Pittman and Bernhard?"
"Inside the hangar—straight down the hall and out the double doors," the other said. "Bernhard went right over to the main control station, we think. Pittman's watching from a distance, but he'll probably take some action on his own if you don't get in there quick."
"Hell," Colvin whispered. "Caine, the hangar is where the main tunnel exit starts. Do you think...?"
"That Bernhard's going to let the Ryqril in?" Caine's stomach knotted. "I sure as hell hope not. But whatever he's up to, we've got to get in there and stop him." He pulled the door open.
"Hold it," Alamzad said suddenly. "I thought I heard something on the stairs."
Colvin stepped to the railing, took a quick look down. "I don't see anything," he said. "Could be Lathe and reinforcements. Should we wait?"
"No." Caine shook his head. "Besides, this is our job—we're the ones Jensen picked for his backup, remember? Come on."
They slipped through into the darkened hallway, and from there past the large double doors into the hangar proper... and as they took their first tentative steps in the pitch-darkness, Caine realized they were in trouble.
The hangar was huge. The supply storage room they'd entered Aegis through had been comparable in size, but with boxes and crated machinery all around it had seemed more likely a cozy maze than anything else. In contrast, the hangar had an overwhelming sense of emptiness about it, an emptiness that, combined with the darkness, gave Bernhard a hell of a combat advantage.
"Where's this control station, Zad?" Colvin hissed at Caine's side.
"Straight across the hangar," Alamzad whispered back.
Caine took a deep breath. It was the blindfold test all over again, this time for real. "All right," he said, forcing calmness into his voice. "We'll use the Plinry recognition code system—try not to take each other out in the fight. Do you know where Pittman is, Alamzad?"
"Afraid not."
"Okay. Colvin, you hang back near the door until we've got Bernhard localized. Give us a hundredcount, then signal Pittman with the recognition info."
"Via tingler? That'll alert Bernhard."
"Can't avoid it. Besides, by then we ought to be in position to jump him."
"Right. Good luck."
Alamzad to his right, Caine set off. Open your senses, Lathe's old instructions came back to him.
Relax, and allow your subconscious to process the information your ears, nose, and skin are sending it. He concentrated... and as he slipped into the necessary mental state the small bubble of perception around him began to expand. There, off to his right—something large, with a stubby appendage stretched out toward them. One of the fighter craft, somehow still safely inside when the rest were locked out by the base's fall? Probably. Ahead, the sounds of a low voice were becoming audible—Bernhard talking to himself? Odd; but it was the best directional marker the hunters could have asked for. He stepped up his pace; with luck they'd be on top of the blackcollar before Colvin's tingler signal alerted him that he had company.
Caine: Bernhard on phone at far end of hangar.
"Dammit!" Caine snarled to himself, slapping at his tingler. But it was too late; Pittman's ill-timed message had sent the balloon up for good. "Attack," he snapped, charging forward.
Beside him, he sensed Alamzad vectoring off from his direction, swinging wide to flank Bernhard and present a more diffuse target. Caine snatched out his nunchaku, sent the flail swinging in a wide defensive arc ahead of him. Somewhere very near here—
With a crack of hardwood on hardwood the nunchaku leaped in his hand, almost tearing itself from his grip. He had barely time to realize he'd just hit Bernhard's own nunchaku before a foot snapped out toward his chest.
Snapped out much too fast to counter; but if Caine's reflexes weren't those of a blackcollar they were still adequately fast. Twisting at the waist, he managed to turn far enough for the kick to hit him obliquely, the toe of the boot scraping across his chest as it went by. Off-balance, his own counterkick was weak and of dubious aim, but it still connected solidly enough to elicit a grunt of pain from his opponent. Caine let the momentum of Bernhard's kick throw him backward, flipping himself over into a crouch. "Bernhard?" he called into the darkness. "Give it up, Bernhard—you can't get out of here."
The other didn't answer... but abruptly there was a crash of bodies off to his side. "Got him!"
Alamzad gasped, the last word cut off into a whuff of expelled air. Caine took a long step toward the sound, dimly sensing someone else moving in from behind. "Bernhard!" he snapped, and as the faint swish of cloth on cloth telegraphed the blackcollar's coming attack, Caine ducked his head, rolled into a flat somersault, and kicked both feet straight out toward his unseen opponent.
He caught Bernhard square in the chest, from the feel of the impact, throwing the other backward to the floor. Caine's nunchaku was still in his hand; rolling into his knees, he swung it whistling over his head.
The hardwood slammed into bare hangar floor, the crack echoing in the vast room. Caine flipped the flail horizontally, trying to find where Bernhard had rolled to. "Over here!" Colvin called from ahead of him, and Caine was scrambling to his feet when his tingler suddenly went on: Stand by for nova.
Nova; Plinry code for a flare. Caine halted in midstride, squeezing his eyes down to slits... and suddenly the room blazed with light.
Bernhard was caught flat-footed. Even as he twisted his head away from the glare and tried to leap back, Colvin's nunchaku lashed out to catch him hard across his abdomen. Bernhard folded over with a choked gasp, falling heavily to the floor. Colvin raised the nunchaku for a final blow to the head—