Fucking insane.
Sam woke to the sound of bells.
Not right. It isn't morning yet.
Then she heard Vipada's breathless voice shouting in Thai. "Samantha! We have to hide you! American helicopters are coming!"
Oh, fuck.
Vipada flew into the room, looked around, grabbed Sam by the hand. "Come with me! I'll take you to the cellar!"
She could surrender. Hand herself over. Plead insanity.
No.
She wouldn't see another child die because of her. She wouldn't be part of another Bangkok. There had to be a better way.
Vipada was yanking at her. "This way! The cellar! We hide!"
She'd made a promise to Wats. To protect Kade.
Sam shook her hand free. "No, Vipada. You hide. I have to fight."
"Then I fight with you," the young nun said. There was steel in her voice.
Sam stared at her.
She's older than I was when I learned to fight, Sam thought to herself.
"OK," she told the girl. "Here's the plan."
Iverson fired and fired and fired. He emptied clip after clip into these orange-robed men. His squadmates did the same. Finally the press of monks eased. A few stood watching them from windows and doorways. None approached.
Target One had gone off the scope. Iverson's HUD showed the target's last known position and vector. He broke up his team to cover possible routes, gave himself the direct pursuit.
He dashed forward, rounded the corner of the building. He was in a triangular space between the large meditation hall on his right, the monk's quarters on his left, and the rock wall of the mountain ahead. Nothing moved on IR.
Wait. There. A sound. A muffled curse. Iverson rushed forward, rounded the corner, saw two figures trying to clamber through an open doorway. He had them.
"No sign of Blackbird, sir," Jane Kim said. "Not in her cell. Team Two dispersing, searching the area."
Nichols swore softly to himself.
"Possible contact!" Kim called out. "Behind the buildings!"
There, on one of the Team Two helmet cams, a woman in the middle of the passage, in nun's robes, facing away from him.
"Take her down!" Nichols shouted. "Don't get any closer!"
No SEAL was a match for her fourth-generation enhancements.
A blur came in from the side of the screen. The camera turned, caught a glimpse of motion, then died. Static.
"Fuck. It was an ambush!"
Sam tightened the knife-belt she'd taken from the SEAL around her waist, slung the other belt with the stun grenades and explosives and powered ascender over her shoulder, fastened it across her chest. The assault rifle was biometrically locked to the SEAL – useless to her. She turned to Vipada.
"Ready?" she asked
The girl nodded, wide-eyed.
Sam interlaced her fingers. Vipada stepped up, and Sam sent her up onto the roof. The girl clambered for a hold, found one. Sam crouched and leapt, pulled herself up next to the girl. It was slick and wet here. Vipada clung to the slippery roof tiles.
Sam looked up into the cloudy sky. As she'd hoped, this side of the roof, slanted to face the mountain, was out of view of the choppers. She began to slowly slither forward on her belly towards the peak of the roof. She needed to see what was going on out there.
Kade groaned in pain as Bahn half-dragged him down the walkway between the meditation hall and the stony mountainside. They reached something. A heavy wooden door. Bahn fished out keys while still supporting Kade, wrestled with the lock, opened it. Beyond the door lay a set of stone stairs, heading down into the gloom.
Pffft pffft click.
Kade heard the shots. Bahn went limp, started to collapse forward. Kade tried to grab Bahn as he fell, missed. The young monk toppled forward and down the stairs with a hard thud and another thud and a sickening crack.
Kade turned. There was a large heavily armed soldier pointing a rifle at him.
He had nowhere left to go. He let go of the doorjamb, threw himself backwards, hoping he'd survive the fall, find some way to hide down there.
The soldier's arm shot out, hauled him back, threw him across the walkway and into the rock wall of the mountain. His head and body collided with the hard rock. Vision faded. Stars bloomed. Pain racked his midsection. His bad leg folded under him.
Kade flipped on Bruce Lee.
Targeting circles blossomed in his vision. Attack and defense buttons loomed. Full auto. Click. That target. Click.
His good right leg lashed out at the soldier's knee. The big man caught the foot, used it to spin Kade around and onto his stomach. The software brought Kade's hands up to catch him in plank pose, lashed out with the foot again. The soldier's knee came down on the small of Kade's back. Bruce Lee tried a roll and a knife hand strike to the throat of the man behind him. The soldier held him down, fended off Kade's struggles, grabbed the hand and cuffed it. Bruce Lee tried to push his hips up off the ground to create room to twist to the side. The soldier was too heavy. Bruce Lee spotted the knife on the man's belt, reached for it with his free hand, got his hand on the hilt. The soldier's hand came down painfully around Kade's wrist, twisted hard, cuffed it to his other hand.
Kade struggled and the soldier smacked him across the back of the head, bouncing Kade's face off the wet stones of the passage. Kade felt his nose crunch, blood fountaining from it. His vision went grey again. Stars spun around him. When his wits returned, he found that his legs were bound. The soldier yelled something into a radio, tossed Kade painfully over his shoulder, and started to jog.
• • • •
"We've got Target One!" Bruce Williams exclaimed. "Iverson is headed back to Banshee One. Team falling in around him."
"Excellent," Nichols said.
On screen 3 Becker smiled thinly.
"What about Blackbird?" Nichols asked.
"The rest of Team Two just got there. Man down is hurt but still breathing. No sign of Blackbird."
Nichols frowned. Where are you, Sam? Where are you? Don't make us hurt you.
And don't hurt too many of us.
Sam froze near the top of the roof. She could hear the team below, searching for her. The wet roof tiles seemed to be shielding her from IR for the moment. Vipada clung to the slick tiles for dear life next to her. She saw Sam look at her and flashed a forced smile. That a girl.
The courtyard was strewn with fallen monks. Dozens of them. At least fifty, sixty monks lay on the cold wet stones. Two distortions in the sky anchored two ropes that trailed down into the courtyard. There was a Navy SEAL guarding each.
There. Motion from near the monks' quarters. Four SEALs jogged into view. The one in the middle had someone over his shoulder. Long, lean, wearing boxers and a cast. Kade. They made the rope below the closer of the two choppers, and the SEAL carrying Kade attached his ascender to the rope and zipped back up.