The motorcycles rolled to a stop and twin hydraulic jacks slammed down onto the pavement like oversized kickstands or half-formed legs. They thrust each bike nearly a foot off the ground, where they stood revving their 1800cc engines deafeningly. Then twin robotic arms with gleaming three-foot sword blades unfolded from the forward hydraulic assemblies, lashing forth on gimbals, arcing smoothly with blinding speed as they ran through diagnostics like insects cleaning their antennae.
At some unseen signal, the bikes retracted their kickstand jacks and hit the pavement, rear wheels smoking. They streaked off toward the hulking silhouette of Building Twenty-Nine in the distance.
Philips and The Major moved swiftly down a corridor, followed by Ross and four heavily armed Korr guards. Personnel raced past them in both directions, carrying computers and boxes of files. The Major was speaking on his L3 phone. "I understand." A pause. "Yes. We're working back channels to warn off civilian authorities. I will." He snapped the phone shut.
They reached the gaming pit and could see black smoke seeping from the seams of the sealed lab blast doors, hinting at the inferno burning within. Korr medics were doing CPR on two strike team members, while other guards were placing bodies in a row on the floor.
Philips slowed for a moment. "My God…"
The Major pulled her past and motioned for Ross to follow. "We're evacuating this facility. Choppers are on the way. I'm taking the first one to go after Agent Merritt. I want you and Mr. Ross on chopper two."
"Where is Merritt?"
"He went out after this 'Loki' person, but we can track him. His radio has GPS."
Ross noticed guards pass by, uncoiling detonator wire from a reel. "What's going on?"
"We're about to have a serious industrial accident here. Prearranged cover story."
Philips snapped alert. "This facility still contains critical equipment and data, Major."
"This facility is in danger of being overrun by the enemy, Doctor."
Philips thought about this for a moment, then produced her own encrypted phone and started punching numbers. "I haven't received orders to abandon this facility, and until I do, I'm not going anywhere."
"In that case…" The Major drew a Glock 9mm pistol from his coat and chambered a round. "I can't risk you falling into enemy hands. Your knowledge of U.S. ciphers is too great."
Ross stepped in front of her. "Wait!"
"Do you want to see my orders, Doctor?"
She was speechless, staring at the business end of the pistol.
Ross held his hands up. "She'll go, Major."
The Major lowered his gun. "Puts it into perspective, doesn't it? Now get ready to pull out."
"What about my people?"
"They're no longer your people. This task force has been dissolved. I've been ordered to send you back to Fort Meade and to remand Mr. Ross to the custody of the FBI."
"On what charges?"
"Multiple counts of wire fraud and identity theft."
She stared at The Major. "That's insane. He just made a breakthrough."
"This task force has been ineffective at curbing the rapid growth of the Daemon. Your narrow field of expertise is being folded into a larger effort. Mr. Ross's services are no longer required. If they ever were."
Ross looked unsurprised. "But I have an amnesty agreement with the Justice Department."
"The terms of which you failed to meet."
"We failed because task force functions were compromised by private contractors."
The Major nodded to the nearby guards, who raised stun guns. "These men will see that you're delivered safely. Resistance is optional."
Philips kept shaking her head. "Major, if Merritt captures Loki, we can find out how they compromised our systems."
"The Daemon won this round, Doctor. I have orders to break off contact with the infiltrator as soon as possible."
"You can't just let Loki escape."
"The number one goal right now is keeping the existence of the Daemon a secret until we mitigate the risks to the global economy. That goal is not compatible with open warfare on our perimeter or by Agent Merritt pursuing a pack of robotic vehicles through downtown Oakland. We're lucky we don't already have news choppers swarming overhead."
"If we can stop this thing now, it will be worth the hit to the economy."
"I'll be sure to put that in my report, Comrade Philips."
The thumping of a chopper was now audible. The Major spoke to a nearby Korr guard. "Hold them here, and rush them to the roof when the second chopper arrives-but not before. Understood?"
The lead guard saluted. "Yes, Major."
The radio on the guard's belt crackled to life. "This is Perimeter-9…do you copy?"
The Major motioned for the guard to hand it to him, and he started heading toward the stairwell doors as he keyed the mic. "This is Secom, Perimeter-9. What's your status?"
Out on the tarmac Perimeter-9 clutched a radio handset and winced in pain. "All units down. Repeat: all perimeter units are down. Request medevac and air support." He limped painfully behind a wrecked and bullet-riddled AutoM8. His lower leg was stained with blood just below a makeshift tourniquet. The leg was badly mangled.
The Major's voice came over the radio through a haze of static. "Report on the unmanned vehicles."
"They left with the intruder. But more of them just arrived. They're forming for another attack. I'm out of ammo, sir. Badly injured." He craned his neck back toward a chopper angling in toward the roof of Building Twenty-Nine. "Requesting immediate airlift."
"Negative. Just stay put, Nine. Help's on the way."
Just then Perimeter-9 heard the howl of high-performance engines. He turned to see twin racing motorcycles streaking across the tarmac in his direction. They were moving in close formation at 150 mph or more.
"Hold it. I've got two motorcycles inbound…" He stepped behind the fender of the car, putting the car hood between him and the approaching bikes. "They're moving fast as hell."
"Where are they headed?"
Suddenly a brilliant green laser light dazzled his eyes. He held up his hands against it, squinting. "Hang on, I'm being painted by something. I can't see-"
The roaring engines were suddenly on him and he heard a deep thwack. He was completely disoriented for several moments. As his vision cleared, he had a view from the ground-a view of his own headless, one-armed body slumping over the hood of the car ten feet away, then sliding onto the pavement.
Back in the gaming pit, The Major was already gone. His voice came through on a nearby guard's radio. "Perimeter-9! Do you copy?"
Ross watched eight armed guards piling black bags onto the floor for transport. Two were staring at him with hard eyes-stun guns ready.
"I guess I should have seen this coming."
Philips squeezed his shoulder. "I won't let them do this to you, Jon. I have friends in Washington, too."
Suddenly the howl of racing engines echoed down the corridor behind the nearby ballistic doors. Everyone turned to see shadows streak along the corridor wall, then twin black motorcycles roared into view beyond the closed bulletproof glass doors. They raised robotic blade arms menacingly. The blades on the lead bike were already stained with blood.
Everyone stepped back away from the doors. The Korr guards raised their weapons, clicking off their safeties. Ross pointed toward the far glass doors. "Let's get to the roof. Now!"
Philips stared at the machines beyond the sealed Lexan glass. The most exotic thing that the Daemon had spawned yet. "Jon, I've seen the word 'Razorback' listed in decrypted Daemon intercepts. This could-"