The MP across from him chuckled. “Why can’t she be hot like the other one?”
“We’re going to have to cut the other one out of that outfit of hers,” said Furber.
“Yeah, no shit.”
The lieutenant shook his head. “No, seriously.” He pointed down the hall toward Stealth’s cell. “We tried to strip her after they brought her in ‘cause there’s so many damned knives and tools in that harness of hers. We could get the belts and holsters and all the gear off her, but if there’re any zippers or anything in that outfit, we couldn’t find ‘em. I think she might actually be sewn into it. We couldn’t even get the mask and gloves off.”
“Goddamn,” said one of the others. “I don’t know if that’s hot or fucked up.”
“Little of both,” said another soldier with a grin.
Furber gave a sage nod.
One of the MPs swaggered two doors down the hall. “That suit of hers is so damned tight, bet you can see them tittays all nice now without the straps and shit in the way.” He slid the viewing slot open and peered into the bright cell. “Shit,” he muttered. He glanced at the armored door on either side. “Which one’s she in again?”
“She’s in five,” said Furber.
“Nah, five’s empty. Check the roster again.”
A moment passed. Then all four men pulled their weapons.
Furber shoved the lech out of the way and peered into the cell. It was a gray concrete room with a steel cot, a steel toilet, and a pair of fluorescent tubes ten feet up behind a wire cage bolted to the ceiling. The tubes washed out everything in the cell and made it look pale.
It was empty.
The cot was placed to make hiding beneath it impossible, and the sheets were still wrapped around the thin mattress without a wrinkle on them. The toilet wasn’t large enough to hide behind and was bolted in the corner, anyway. The cell wasn’t much wider than the door, but he craned his neck to make sure no one was pressed into the small space on either side.
“Shit,” he said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit.”
“Call it, Lieutenant,” said one of the MPs.
He dropped his voice. “Get ready to open it,” he said. “Jake, you’re with me. Kenny, Greg, you’re out here covering us. You see anything at all, don’t hesitate. She was out cold when they brought her in but this bitch can move, believe you me.”
“What if she’s not in there?” said Kenny, all lecherous thoughts gone from his mind.
“Then we call it in and we all get court-martialed,” said Furber.
They nodded and he tapped his code into the keypad. The locks clacked and the door fell open an inch. Four fingers tensed on four triggers.
The lieutenant inched the door open. It rolled back into the frame until it hit the full-open position with a thud. He mouthed a three count and he and Jake swung into the tiny room.
Nothing.
He gestured for Jake to cover him and crouched by the cot. The flashlight beam swept back and forth beneath the steel frame, highlighting areas he could already see by the light of the tubes.
“Shit,” Furber said again. He turned to the men in the hall to have them call in an escape and saw her over Jake’s shoulder.
The woman in black was upside-down in the three-foot space above the door. Her back was pressed against the wall and her feet braced against the ceiling. She balanced on the half-inch door frame on her fingertips.
By the time he realized what he was seeing, she was already in motion.
Her legs swung down and struck Jake between the shoulders. She knocked him onto Furber and launched herself into the hall. Her arms wrapped around and under Greg’s shoulders as she twisted over him. She rolled down his back, let momentum lift him off his feet, and flipped him into the far wall.
She whirled and her cloak billowed out. She grabbed the edge with a flick of her wrist and it snapped like a whip, catching Kenny across the eyes. He howled and fell back. By the time he blinked the shock away she’d disarmed him and driven strikes into both of his shoulders.
Furber and Jake untangled themselves. She grabbed Kenny by the back of the neck, yanked the nightstick from his belt, and pushed him forward. The two MPs collided and the nightstick spun through the air to knock the lieutenant’s pistol from his hand. He threw himself at her, but she ducked both of his punches and batted his grab away. Furber felt the palm of her hand as it touched his jaw and knew the blow was going to knock him out cold.
She spun from the unconscious lieutenant and brought her heel up to Jake’s temple. He slammed into the wall, his duty cap flew off, and he dropped. She brought the foot down and snapped a kick to the back of Kenny’s head. The blow left him senseless and his face hit the floor.
Stealth retrieved their weapons, standard 9mm Beretta pistols. They would not fit well in her holsters, and she paused to wonder why she had not been more insistent about getting her own weapons back. She flipped one of the nightsticks into a defensive position against her arm.
“Stealth,” shouted a muffled voice. “I know that’s you out there. Open this damned door.”
The nightstick smashed the face of the keypad and her fingers danced through the wires behind it. The door unlocked with a thump. “Good to see you,” said Danielle.
“Where is St. George?”
“He’s getting Barry. We were going to meet at my workshop.” She glanced at the MPs. “Did you kill any of them?”
“Of course not,” said Stealth. “They are still law enforcement officers.” She handed two of the pistols to Danielle. “You will need these.”
“You have no idea. You’ll never guess what’s going on.”
Stealth gestured her down the hall. “The Nest units have never worked. Rodney Casares, also known as Peasy, is alive and controlling the exes.”
“How do you always know this stuff?”
“You were very loud when they brought you in, Danielle. Did it appear as if any of the officers would heed your warnings?”
“Not a chance,” scoffed the redhead as they rounded a corner. “Did you attack Shelly?”
Stealth guided them past the elevator toward a stairwell. “Colonel Shelly was dead when I found him.”
“Dead? Are you sure?”
“Yes,” said Stealth. She reached around the corner to grab an MP’s wrist. Danielle yelped as the cloaked woman twisted the soldier’s arm, slammed the nightstick into his stomach, and dumped him on the floor. She did something fast with her fingers and he was unconscious. “Does St. George know of Peasy’s presence?”
Danielle shrugged. “No idea. I don’t think so.”
Stealth opened the stairwell door and peered out at a hallway. There was no sign of guards or other personnel. “You must keep your rendezvous at the workshop,” she told Danielle. “I will try to convince Captain Freedom of the threat Krypton faces.”
“I don’t think he’s going to listen. He’s furious about Shelly.”
“That may be, but we must try.” She gestured them out into the hallway and turned left. “There are over a thousand people here who will be caught off guard and slaughtered when Peasy decides to attack, and it is likely revealing himself to you has forced his hand.”
“What if I try speaking to John instead? He’s not part of the military. He might have a cooler head about all this.”
“Do you think he will listen to reason?”
“I think so, yeah. He can be a stubborn jerk, but he’s not stupid.”
Two soldiers stood guard in the lobby. Even with their backs turned, Danielle could tell they were both zombies. She turned to whisper a question, but Stealth was already moving.
The cloaked woman drove the tip of her nightstick into one ex’s spine, right at the base of the skull. There was a sound like driftwood breaking and the dead man fell forward. The stick whirled in her hand and smashed back and forth across the other ex-soldier’s jaw. She kicked its rifle into the air, dropped below its hands, and swept the legs out from under it. It landed on its back and she drove the rifle barrel through its eye, putting all her weight on it. There was a pop of breaking bone and the M16 sank into the dead man’s skull. It went limp.