John Reese dropped to a crouch behind the marble column as cover. He looked to his left and saw Sameen Shaw doing the same. Both were covered in sweat, dust and blood.
The unleashing of the Machine against Samaritan had brought forth some of the worst fighting he's ever experienced. And now here they were shoulder to shoulder in Washington D.C. trying to ensure that the President of the United States survived. His death would spark world wide unrest, economic devastation, and possibly the start of World War III.
Shaw dropped the Sig Sauer P226 into the holster around her thigh and picked up a discarded M4 from the floor. She pulled 3 magazines from the external vest carrier of the deceased Secret Service uniformed officer next to her and placed them in the MOLLE vest pouches on her own chest rig.
"We are sitting ducks here." she said to John.
It wasn't something he needed to be reminded. Outnumbered at least fifty to one, injured, low ammo, and crumbling cover left them exposed. He knew there was little chance that either of them survived this fight. He glanced behind him and saw the President's secret service team desperately fighting to clear an exit. Harold was with them, along with Detective Fusco. If they could get mobile, they might have a chance to save the most important man in the world.
Shaw popped up from her crouched position and fired off three quick bursts of gunfire. All of the rounds hit their marks and the insurgents fell to the pavement. Since learning that Root had died, Shaw had retreated into herself. She was colder than ice. John knew the devastation of losing your person. Shaw's frigid indifference was just a mask. He knew that. She was devastated, and showed it through her absolute commitment to the mission, fighting harder, better then ever before. John knew that Shaw was too proud to allow herself to die without a purpose, a real fight. She wouldn't just let the enemy finish her off. However John knew that this mission was not much better than suicide. And Shaw was a woman with absolutely nothing to lose.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. As Shaw continued picking off enemies he answered, holding his finger in his ear to try and block some of the noise.
"Hello John. I've been trying to reach Shaw but she still refuses to speak to me." The Machine said. He still was not accustomed to hearing Root's voice as the Machine. He closed his eyes.
"We're a bit tied up." he said quietly.
"Oh I know, just wanted to let you know I'm sending a few presents to you. If you'd peek at your 3 o'clock you should see the drone approaching with a drop for you and Sameen."
He glanced up and saw the tell tale split fin of a military drone.
"Thanks." he said without emotion.
"And do tell Sameen I'd like to assist her. Since Harold allowed me to reach my full potential I feel I can help you both. I know the selection of this voice may be difficult for her..."
John cut The Machine off. "Thanks for the package." He immediately hung up.
"What did it want?" yelled Sameen. She knew it was the Machine on the line. She flinched an ducked as a large explosion went off to her left.
John pointed up as the drone dropped a care package just behind them.
"I'll cover." Shaw said.
She broke from behind the column and moved to cover behind a black SUV. She kept firing as she moved and once to cover threw a grenade into a crowd of five.
John moved to the crates and was thankful. Firepower. He picked up the shoulder fired Hellfire missile and aligned the sights. He took aim for the armored gun truck that had most of the President's team pinned down. With the press of a button the threat was neutralized and the protection team was on the move, hurling the President into his armored limo and moving out.
Shaw jogged to the crate and began loading up on guns and ammo. She grabbed a duffel and threw things in as quickly as she could. She lifted the lid off of a box marked "Grenades" and stopped. A lump formed in her throat. A small protein bar in a white wrapper sat on top. She closed her eyes. It couldn't be. She pocketed the bar and continued packing.
"Mr. Reese Ms. Shaw." Harolds voice cut through their comms.
"We're here Harold." John answered.
"Oh thank goodness. We are immediately evacuating, but need some assistance clearing a pathway to the interstate.
Shaw threw her bag into a blacked out Yukon with red and blue lights flashing.
"I'll take point." she said.
John looked over at Shaw. "She wanted you to answer your phone. Let her help."
"It." She replied coldly. " 'It' wanted me to. 'She' is dead."
"And we are not." Harold's voice interrupted.
Shaw shook her head as she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. "That's where you're wrong. We've been dead for a long time."