Floor 21- Dark Angel Page 17

  “Put a rocket right up its backside.”

  He nods to me as he comes up the line and takes a seat. His weapon’s as big as a small child, but that’s not surprising considering the size of the rocket it’s loaded with. He takes a second to focus and squeezes the trigger, sending a wave of fire out of the back end of the launcher, then we all scramble for cover while the missile screams down the street. Got to be moving faster than a vehicle, but it feels like it’s going in slow motion. When it does hit though, it punches with so much power that it sends an explosion up that touches the rooftops. Raiders go diving away when it strikes, but the tank doesn’t stop moving. Its back end’s on fire, and we took a chunk out of its armor, but I start seeing its top mounted machine gun turret swiveling around to us. “Damn it. Start loading another one. Quick!”

  We must’ve done some damage to their motor, because it’s taking forever for that turret to look our way. Then again, it’s taking forever for us to switch in another missile. We’ve barely gotten a new one in the tube when the turret on that tank starts opening up, spreading a circle of gunfire down the streets. It eats into the wall near me and I jump back just before a bullet takes my face off. “Captain,” I bark into my mic. “That turret’s pinned on us. Do you guys have a shot?”

  “Negative, sergeant, we had to move before the tank locked position on us. These buildings won’t hold up to a tank round.”

  “Damn. I’ll take the guys back around and try to get off a hit to its side.”

  “I’ll give you a heads up when we have a new position. For now, do what you can and keep an eye on your minimap.”

  “Right.” I motion everyone to follow, and then we’re sprinting back down the street we’ve just come through. The second we find an alley cutting between two of the buildings, I take everyone up. When there’s a fight like this, a city is a maze, but it’s also your best friend. The person who knows the maze best has the better chance of winning. Fortunately, Central’s been my home for a year now. Plus, the minimap is a direct feed from Central Primary, so it does a good job of telling me where all the streets connect.

  Me and my team empty out from between a few buildings further north with a clear view of that tank. Its gun is still pointed on our old position, but I can see its treads starting to turn. “Where’s that missile? It’s now or never!” I barely get a grunt of confirmation from the team before I hear the sound of our rocket firing off. Whole time it’s in the air, I’m watching the tip of the missile. It’s as fat a missile, and its back end is burning with fire that sends that thick head of it punching through the skin of our target. This time, the entire side of the tank opens up in an explosion that sends twisted pieces of burned metal turning through the air. What’s left of the tank goes plowing sideways into a building, concrete and steel collapsing and making a tomb around it.

  “Thank the Builders.” The words are barely out of my mouth when I hear Tommy’s voice in my ear. “Chapman here. Did you see that?”

  “Sergeant . . . Mike. We’ve got a massive breakthrough of raiders coming in from the north. Defense line up there wasn’t able to hold. They’re in the Upper East District right now.”

  “Northeast . . . But that’s where Cynthia . . .”

  “I know.”

  “I need . . .” I feel my breath just stick in my chest, like suddenly I want to just tumble over. “Tommy, I have to get out there. I have to go help.”

  “Yeah, I know that too. I already told Captain Jansen I’d be sending you up there by transport to reinforce him, so you’re free to take your team out there. Just a heads up, we’re getting some bad reports from around the Green Zone. Power armor. Lots of it. I’m thinking they used the tanks to draw our attention south and concentrated their powered armor in the north.”

  “Okay. Okay, got it. We’ll redeploy right now.”

  “Good luck, Mike.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Tommy.”

  “And Mike.”

  “Yeah?”

  “While you’re out there . . . If you see Dodger . . .”

  “Yeah. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 07

  General McCullum looks infuriated. “Is this what you call an advantage, Mr. President?” he’s growling as he points to red dots all over the map. “The entire city’s lit up. We’ve got half the southern districts occupied with tanks or Furies while then north’s getting destroyed by these powered armor deployments. The only reason they haven’t pushed here into the Governance District is because they don’t know how to make their way through the damn streets.”

  I flip the screen to a live view from the upper districts. Gunfire’s erupting from every building, targeting a suit of power armor that’s practically gliding along the road. “What the hell would you like me to say about this, gentlemen? When have any of us seen power armor that moves like this?”

  Martin shakes his head. “It’s mobile as hell, I’ll give them that.” He’s not lying. The back end of the suit is equipped with some sort of repulsor thruster. Not only can the thing shrug off rifle rounds, but it can dodge a missile when those rear thrusters activate. “I did some digging into our records. That’s not Apeiron tech. It’s Carthaginian. They’re a style of powered armor known as Absolution-class. Same recommendations still apply, Mr. President. Hit them hard. No time to waste with rifle rounds.”

  “And what are you proposing?”

  “A large-scale response. Empty everything in the armory on these things. We’re just wasting time trying to shoot them down. If we don’t put some explosives on them, we’re not going to stop them.”

  General McCullum nods. “Death by overwhelming power.”

  I look over at the general. “And when we’re laying down all this missile fire, are we even paying attention to the civilians trapped in these fire zones?”

  “Mr. President, it’s lose a few or lose everything. Now, are you going to be squeamish about this, or do I have to make the call myself?”

  “No. No, if innocent blood is on anyone’s hands . . . Well, I’ll take responsibility. Authorize full use of the arsenal, prioritize destroying those suits. But let me remind everyone in this room that if we don’t have a population to fight for, then we don’t have a reason to fight. We have to keep civilian rescue a priority, especially now that we’ve got raiders this deep in the city. Is that understood?”

  There’s a round of headshakes, and I think, or at least hope, that they understand the importance of what I’m saying. Everyone needs something to fight for. For the militia, for our armed forces, we lose our reason the second we start forgetting about the innocent people caught in the middle of a war. As long as I have a say in how Central is run, that’s something I’ll never let happen.

  Dodger’s Recording 08

  The whole building’s shaking while I’m ordering everyone off the floor. “I’m going to need everyone to hurry!” I’m screaming at them as crowds of people start choking the elevators. “No, no, no!” I shout as I start shoving them away from the entrance. “Do you want to get stuck in here if the elevator stops working? Use the emergency exit!”

  Everyone has to be in shock or something because they barely respond to what I’m telling them. I practically have to push the first few of them into the stairwell before they start following orders. It’s like trying to put chaos in a bottle, and the whole hallway looks like one big mass as people try to shove their way through the doors. “One at a time! One at a time!” I’m yelling at them. At the same time, I’m wondering where the rest of the hall officers are. “Damn it.”

  Somehow, in all that mess, Cynthia finds me. Suddenly, she just flashes out of the crowd, and I nearly jump when she grabs me by the shoulder. “Dodger, how close are they?”

  “Uh, Cynthia, I don’t . . .” I just shake my head. “Too close. Everyone needs to get to ground floor and start moving into the Green Zone. We can get everyone underground and then . . . then, we’ll have to figu
re something out.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s just . . . Mandy’s so . . .” I look down and realize Mandy’s eyes are as wide as headlights. As cool as she likes to come across, she’s obviously scared. It sucks the air out of me to see her like that, and I hit a knee the second I see her. “Hey. Hey, Mandy? You’re with me, right?”

  It takes her a second, but she finally looks my way. “Dodger. Are we going to die?”

  “What?” That question feels like a punch to the gut. “No, but we’ve got to get out of here, okay? Stay with your sister and keep moving downstairs. Then, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

  “Okay.” Cynthia squeezes her hand, and the two of them rush off, following the crowd. As soon as the last person’s through the door, I’m right behind them, rushing down the stairwell. The ground’s still rumbling but I think it feels a little safer on the stairs. The whole stairwell’s concrete and steel and designed to protect people in an emergency. I’d say getting bombarded by tanks qualifies as an emergency. I’m the last person to reach bottom, and that’s the first time I see any of the other building officers. At least they’re doing their jobs, ushering people outside and guiding them onto the side streets. Whatever’s attacking, they’re sticking mostly to the main roads. There’s only a few ways to move a lot of troops to Central Primary, at least if you want to get it done quick, and it looks like that’s what the raiders are trying to do.

  Of course, once I’m outside, I’m reminded that when a fight breaks out, not everything goes according to plan. I immediately spot two tanks just rumbling our way from a few blocks down. They’re taking fire from every side. That’s our guys at work, and it’s at least slowing them down. What scares me though, even more than those huge tanks, are the powered armor soldiers skimming the ground. They’re fast. Like, too fast. I see a few missiles flying at them, and these things just slide away, the repulsors on their backs shooting them to safety. They’re way too fast for how big they are, and it only takes them like half a second to turn and start firing their rifles. These guns . . . They’re huge, too big for any person to carry normally. The rounds they fire are enough to take out huge chunks of the buildings, and they literally destroy a whole wall just with their rifle fire alone.

  I’m stuck watching it happen, like I can’t turn my eyes away. When I finally do, I almost scream when I run headfirst into someone. “Mike!”

  He shakes his head. “Cynthia and Mandy?”

  “With everyone else,” I tell him when I point to the crowd. Everyone’s streaming into one of the alleys. “It’s too dangerous on the main streets.”

  “Believe me, I know,” he says as he lifts his rifle. “Captain Jansen’s holding off the Raiders. I’m here to cover you while you get out of here.”

  “Alright. I’ll make sure everyone gets to the Zone.”

  Mike nods. He’s about to turn away when he looks up, his face going pale. “What the hell?”

  I look up with him, and my eyes go wide. When I see it, my breath sticks in my chest, like I’m suffocating. I’m in this mild second of shock when I barely mumble, “Right now? Why right now?”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “I’ve seen it before, Mike,” I whisper, my voice shaking as I watch a burning trail cutting its way through the sky. “That day in the Deadlands. Fire.”

  “It looks like something is burning the skies in half.”

  “The Angel’s here.”

  Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 08

  I’m shouting at Martin. “Do we have a route for those people to make it to the Green Zone?”

  “Mr. President, we’ve got roads cut off from Central Primary northward past the zone. We did a good job bottling the raiders up south along Freedom Bridge and around the Battery District, but those powered armor suits that hit us from the north are making a mess of our forces on the ground.” He looks up at the screen. The suits are skating through weapons fire like it’s water. Every missile that gets fired their way gets dodged, and whenever they do take a blast, there’s a Fury or other raiders on foot to pick up the slack. “I think it’s time we started thinking about making plans to evacuate here.”

  “Where to, colonel? We don’t have command ability at the Green Zone. If we lose our ability to coordinate a response from here, we lose the whole island.”

  He shakes his head as we see one of the armored suits go up in an explosion, the whole thing bursting apart as a rocket hits it directly in its back. “Well, at least we know they can be destroyed.”

  McCullum looks our way. “We can’t deal these suckers out the same way we did with those tanks? Distract them from the front and then hit them from the back?”

  Martin tosses his hand in the air. “Well, we’re trying. Problem is, even when we have a lock on them, these suits have incredible response capabilities. For all the rockets we’re putting into the air, these things are shaking them like it’s nothing. Also, and I hate to mention this now, but we have something else happening.”

  “Something else? What the hell else could be going on?”

  Martin hits the controls on the screen, and the next thing we’re looking at is a trail of fire burning across the clouds. I never thought I’d see it. “Reports are coming in from everywhere about this. Fire in the sky. Gentlemen, we have something new inbound.”

  It’s enough to make me slam the table. “We’ll deal with it when we actually have eyes on it. I want our people secured. Take everyone out of reserve we have here at the garrison and put them on the street. I want them in transports to the East Green District and I want extra protection around the Green Zone. Clear the way for every civilian we have. Every missile, rocket, grenade, whatever we have, I want it all out there. If we have to convert a whole platoon into a rocket crew then I want it done if it means getting those power armored walkers off the streets.”

  “I’m on it, sir. And our other threat? The Dark Angel?”

  I shake my head. “Tell me when we have any video feed of her, colonel. I want to know what we’re facing.”

  Mike’s Recording 09

  I’m outside the walls of the Green Zone, hunkered down beneath a shell of what used to be a personnel transport. It’s the only thing between me and a wave of gunfire like nothing I’ve ever faced down. Every time I try and get a look around the corner, there’s a giant suit of armor eight feet tall firing on me with a rifle that would normally have to be mounted on a vehicle. I can feel the rounds from its barrel rattling into the side of the transport, and the whole time, I’m just hoping the car’s armor is thick enough to hold up.

  Overhead, I can see Suiciders screaming around, dropping bombs and turning the street into a fiery hell. Everything’s on fire and whole parts of the street have been chewed away by explosion. The whole time, I’m trying to process what’s next. What to do. Across the street, I spot a flood of people waiting at the intersection, looking for a chance to cross. Residents trying to make it into the Green Zone. Somehow, in all that crowd, I spot Cynthia and Mandy, who must’ve gotten held up by fighting on the streets. Just seeing them, even with the transport behind me getting ready to rip apart, I know I want to go help them. Air’s too thick though, filled with too much gunfire. That’s why I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear a voice in my ear.

  “Sergeant Chapman, this is Captain Jansen. Sit tight, I’ve got a rocket team coming up on your position.”

  “Chapman confirmed, I’ve got people waiting to cross into the one at this intersection.”

  “We’ve got you.”

  With the sound of gunfire still ringing around me, I pop a Pocket Space window and pull out a Baby Boy. I punch a few controls on its side then toss it into the air, watching as its video feed streams over the left side of my visor. It flies down the street and over that armored thing’s head, shooting up toward the sky as gunfire chases it. The whole time, its lens is pointed downward, and I can see where a few of our guys are coming from around the block. They weren’t kidd
ing about rocket teams. From what I can count, there are at least a dozen guys who’ve got launchers mounted on their shoulders.

  “Get down!” I tell my guys, just in case the transport gets hit. We all push ourselves to the pavement just as the air’s starting to clog up with streaking smoke trails, rockets tearing the street into pieces and throwing raiders to the ground. With that much firepower in the air, even the power armored walkers can’t dodge for long, and we watch as a few of them explode apart. The one walker firing on us doesn’t realize until it’s too late that it’s getting shot at. When it does, I can see the glow of the repulsors on its back as it shoots off, leaning away as one rocket streaks by it. Then another and another, each rocket getting closer and closer as the armored walker runs out of room to dodge. It nearly slams into a wall, and that’s when its time runs out. A stray rocket tears into the building and brings a hail of concrete and steel raining down. The raider’s repulsors light up and, at least for just one second, I think it’s going to get away. Then a huge piece of debris catches its back, literally tearing off its repulsor pack and sending it stumbling forward. The next rocket that sails through the air catches it full in the chest, and that’s when the whole street rings with the sound of it exploding. The explosions send more pieces of the building falling to the ground, the whole wall looking ready to collapse.

  Between staring at the shell of the dead walker and the pieces of wall that are still falling, it's almost like I have to remind myself to breath there for second. The minute I get back to my senses, I jump to my feet and start waving the crowd across the intersection. “Come on!” I scream. “Hurry. That building’s taken a beating. Get through to the next block!” They start sprinting across the street, and the whole time, I’ve got my eyes out for Cynthia and Mandy. In all that crowd, it’s hard to spot them. It’s not until the final person’s running past that I realize the two of them are bringing up the rear. She braces to cross the road when she sees me, then gives me this smile. Then I wave at her to hurry it up.