Kage's smile is mocking as he ends the transmission. I shiver inwardly, trying not to think back to the hotel room. I concentrate on the mission. Can't worry about what I can't control. Have to stay calm, and my thoughts focused. Can't let the pain show. Can't let the fear show.
I nearly think I'm successful, but when Brutus turns his grizzled head and looks at me, I know I haven't fooled him at all.
Dead bodies sprawl on the roadside, dark splotches around them where the blood soaked into the ground. I've seen plenty of death in my life, but that doesn't stop it from being unsettling. The bodies have been decimated by close-quarters gunfire, and what remains is barely recognizable as human.
Agent Rogers has his squad fanned out, assisting the military and investigative units, but there isn't much they can do except gather evidence and profile the area. United Havens military has command of the scene, so I approach the lead investigator and flash my credentials. Sergeant Mills looks at the Scyther emblem and frowns. But to her credit, she has nothing rude to say.
"Cyber Corp on this one? Figures. I have a few IT guys looking at it, but they can't figure out much other than what we already know: hacker took over the driving controls then somehow activated one of the units and took out our security mech. That's the what. The how is what I want to know, but they haven't been able to figure that out yet. Guess your people are more equipped for this sort of thing."
"We are." I blink in sequence, mentally activating my cybernetic eye and adjusting it to Investigative mode. Data scrolls across my vision, gathering the evidence at the scene and arranging it in a simulated playback mode.
"Okay, we have Keno's crew in the cargo truck for transporting the synoids. Then we have the sweet Lambotron speeder modified with ion turbine guns, and an aerocycle armed with a rail gun. Both remote-operated. One of them had to be Specter. But who's his partner?'
"Thought he was a lone wolf," Zen says, eyeing the scene with her enhanced vision activated via her info-lenses. She works her cy-gear glove, adjusting the variables in her simulation. Brutus shadows her, looking suspiciously into the heart of the dead thicket nearby.
"He is. That doesn’t mean he won't partner up if the has to. Any way to trace the link from the vehicles?"
"Working on it."
I follow the highlighted footprints, which get muddled as the men scrambled to fight the mechanized spider. Stepping over the remains of the mech, I note a single set of tracks coming from the woods. I motion Sergeant Mill over.
"No footage of the latecomer to the party?"
She opens her holoband and pulls up a video file. "We were still miles off, but our cameras were running. I've enlarged the recording as much as possible, but the feed is still grainy. They were gone by the time we landed. Had an airship in the woods not that far away. Probably in another Territory by now."
"Yeah, maybe." I squint at the video stills. The figures of Keno, his squad, and Specter's synoid are barely visible, along with another person with her back to the camera. Sleek, black combat armor. Her stance is instantly familiar.
Dabria.
Sergeant Mills looks up from the photos. "Anyone you recognize?"
I slide the video back to her. "I'm afraid not. Please forward the files along with any other pertinent data to my inbox." I tap my holoband against hers to sync up.
Her eyebrows rise. "That's it? You're leaving?"
"I think you've got the situation well in hand, Sergeant. We're going to follow up on other leads."
Rogers joins me as I head back to the jet chopper. "We just got here, Enigma. I hate to chase my own tail, but there has to be something we can use from the evidence."
"I have a better idea, Rogers."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"I'm tired of playing this game from behind. Keno runs a ring of clubs in Downtown San Bernardino. Feel like knocking down some doors?"
He smiles for the first time since I've known him. "Definitely."
Minutes later we're hovering high over Mad Dawgs, Keno's most popular club. I approach the open door of the chopper, glancing at Agent Rogers, who gives his squad last-minute instructions. He's armored, armed, and ready to go. I'm pretty sure he wants to make up for his last mission's total disaster. Works for me, so long as he follows my orders.
I tap his shoulder. "I'll start at the top of the club. Your squad takes the front and rear. Target armed security only. No civilian casualties."
He slaps the side of his helmet and nods. "Understood."
I nod to Zen, who straps herself into a combat exoskeleton. "Let the soldiers take the lead. Stay behind them."
She adjusts the chassis, working the mechanized arms. Two additional limbs snap out from the backside, offering extra support and offensive options. She grins. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'm not the super-soldier. More than glad to let you guys have all the fun."
I tip my fingers at her. "See you on the ground then." Leaping out the door, I launch myself into the air, fold my arms at my sides, and dive toward the ground. The wind whistles in my ears, the air cocoons around me. For a moment, I close my eyes. Imagine that these few seconds will be the last of my life. It's almost a peaceful thought. Falling feels weightless, peaceful. I could be in the ocean. I could be adrift in space.
My eyes snap open.
The world below rushes at me faster than seems possible. There are only lights at first; then buildings become visible. A second later, bodies are discernable. Milling crowds caught up in a throbbing beat that grows more audible as I approach. They rock back and forth in the light of flickering torches, bonfires, and laser lights, oblivious to the doom coming from above.
At the last possible second, I flip over and activate the retro-thrusters in my boots, slowing my fall just enough to avoid injury. If I were an average human, I'd still shatter my bones on impact at that speed.
But I'm better.
My boots smash through the skylight, shattering the glass into powdery shards. My vision switches to combat mode, highlighting heat signatures and immediate threats. I'm already firing my inferno blaster before my feet hit the ground. The incendiary rounds explode on impact, engulfing the targets in flames. The three guards on the top deck were practically sleeping, and they pay for their lack of discipline, rolling on the ground screaming and trying to pat the fires out. I roll, flip to my feet, and fire a few more rounds until the screaming stops. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear a voice whisper that these men aren't my enemy. They're just people, men doing a job.
I ignore it.
I've been a soldier all my life. First in Dabria's ranks, now in Cyber Corp. And I can't deny what I know to be true. I don't feel more alive than when in the heat of battle, when the stakes are ultimate, when my life is on the line. The thrill of being faster, smarter, stronger than the enemy in front of me. I was good as a soldier, but I'm nearly unstoppable as a Scyther. And as much as I hate to admit it, I get a rush every time I go into combat. Sometimes I think it's the only thing that keeps me going. Like I was made for this.
I'm sure Cyber Corp would say I was. The thought would be chilling, but I'm in the zone now. Nothing matters except for the mission.
I hear the sound of footsteps. The door bangs open, and two frag grenades bounce inside the room.
I turn, run, and smash right through the wall. Sheetrock and wooden framework offer little resistance against my cyber-enhanced strength. My momentum carries me into the hallway, where I slam against the other wall, showered by dust and broken drywall. The grenades explode inside the room with a loud blast, shredding the interior. I crouch down, peering through so much flying debris that I'm barely able to see the guards ten feet away. They stumble, rocked by the explosion.