On the run #4: The Jumper
"…the shotgun I think,' York picked up the weapon, loaded it and then secured it to his back. He then pulled out the key card that he had taken from the dead assassin.
"Now, lets have a look at this card…"
Several minutes later, after examining the key card in minute detail and checking almost all of Natalya's contacts, York finally had an idea of where he was going. He looked over the table at Natalya.
"Okay, let's run over it again."
Natalya nodded and turned to the big screen in her office. It flickered to life and began to display images as she "The location is an old military base on the outskirts of Guevah City. Until a few weeks ago it was scheduled for demolition. However the property and buildings were purchased by a company called…' she paused to look at a piece of paper, '…Biomech Industries, ostensibly as a testing ground for their latest products.. That name mean anything to you?"
York nodded, "They are a subsidiary of the same company that backed the Freelancer Project."
"Right. Anyway, since they purchased the place, enough materials have gone into it to manage a complete refurbishment and prep the place for at least 300 men. And there have also been enough weapons and ammunition to keep those men fighting for weeks."
York nodded again, "Defences?"
"The entire area is surrounded by anti-vehicle mines and sensor fields. The only area free of mines is the road going in, but that has patrols every 10 minutes and twice as many sensors. If you manage to get past all that then there is a line of sentry guns surrounding the main compound."
"Okay. What about air defences?"
"Oh you are going to just love this. The compound has a total of 20 surface-to-air-missile batteries. All are equipped with advanced heat seeking sensor systems. Anything that is flying hotter than your average pigeon will be targeted. Unfortunately that includes you. Anything that is drifting within a distance of 1200 feet will be automatically targeted if it is moving below the speed of your average plane. This means a para-drop is out of the question."
"Interesting."
Natalya paused for a moment before continuing, "Forgive me if this seems a little negative, but this whole thing sounds like a fucking suicide mission. And I can't really afford to lose you. You're one of my best customers."
York smiled, "Don't worry. Me and Delta have a plan."
And they did. It was crazy, dangerous and probably impossible. But it was a plan nonetheless.
"I just need a few more things from that weapons room of yours. And a plane. Do you have a plane?"
Natalya smiled at this, "Why York, you should know by now. I have everything…"
Three hours later and he was in the air, heading to his target. York checked the belt of objects held over his chest one more time, then went to the front of the aircraft, where Natalya sat at the controls. York sat down in the co-pilot's chair.
"You know you didn't have to do this yourself,' he said after a few minutes, 'one of your garage workers could have done it."
Natalya shook her head, "No, they would have just screwed it up. Besides those creeps blew up half of my garage. The least I can do is help you return the favour."
"Ah, you do realise it was me controlling the tank?"
"Yes but they started it so its their fault…I still think what you're about to do is suicidal."
"I know." Above their heads a yellow light started to flash, indicating that they were approaching the drop site. York got up.
"Time for me to go." He began to walk towards the back of the plane as the rear cargo door opened.
"Are you sure you don't want a parachute?" Natalya called after him.
York turned at the lip of the cargo ramp and looked back at her.
The light turned green.
York smiled, "It would just slow me down."
Then he dropped backwards off the ramp…
York spun about in free fall until he was facing downwards. He looked at the height gauge displayed on his helmet. If Natalya was right then he should be entering the danger zone right…now.
Instantly warnings began to flash in his vision and Delta informed him that he was tracking half a dozen objects moving his way. Behind his visor York smiled grimly. As the missiles drew closer, York pulled out one of the objects strapped to his chest; a flare and hurled it towards them.
Two of the missiles veered of course to follow the flare and collided in a burst of flames. A third was knocked out by the explosion. The other three came on unhindered.
York drew his pistols before throwing his weight to one side and swerving out of the path of the missiles. As they raced past overhead he aimed both weapons at the tail end of the last missile and fired. One, two, three, four, five shots and the missile exploded. York almost cheered, but the other missiles were curving about for another pass and it would take too long for the pistols to destroy this missile.
Quickly York holstered one of his pistols and drew his shotgun from his back, firing it as fast as he could. The missile detonated and the explosion blew him down faster than ever, giving him a few precious seconds to make his next move.
York holstered his remaining weapons and drew out a second flare. He ignited it and held it above his head as Delta calculated the trajectory it would need to follow to reach its target. After what seemed like an age, but was actually only a few seconds, the path displayed on his visor flashed green and York hurled the flare. It flew down to land on a vent cover on the roof and York felt the breeze as the missile, following the flare, flew straight past him and collided with the vent. In the aftermath of the explosion York, guided by Delta flew through the hole and into the vent…
York immediately thrust out his arms and smashed them through the walls of the vent, at the same time putting his boots to the sides. The sudden wrench of the near instantaneous stop would have been too much pain to bear had Delta not had the foresight to give him a large dose of morphine. As it was, York felt ligaments tearing and bones cracking. He waited for a few seconds as sirens began to wail overhead for his armour to begin healing him and then, removing one arm from its place in the wall of the vent, pulled off the remaining objects from the belt across his chest. These were specially made adhesive explosives, each designed to release a highly explosive gas into the vents before detonating. As York armed them and he called up Delta.
"D, hack the system and do a rapid sweep of all the surveillance systems. Find Louise and map the fastest route to her location. I don't want to be stuck in this vent when the cavalry gets here."
That being said, York released his other hand and with just his feet to control him, began to slide down the vent. At every junction in the shafts he slapped one of the bombs onto the walls until at last he reached the bottom. By now Delta had found Louisiana and was giving York the fastest path.
"She appears to be in a sub-basement." Delta told him.
"And let me guess, this vent system doesn't reach that far?"
"Correct."
York sighed, "They can never make these things simple can they?"
"Apparently not."
"Well we better get down there. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting." York crawled through the vents until he reached an opening and then carefully began to pull it out. Once the way was clear York drew his pistols and dropped through the hole. He landed softly and turned, about only to find a group of five armed men looking at him in surprise. As both sides raised their weapons to fire, York saw a song title cue up in his visor and heard Delta's voice.
"Just thought you might like some music while you work."
York smiled and as the song started in earnest he opened fire.
"Another mission the powers have called me away,
Another time to carry the colours again,
My motivation an oath I've sworn to defend
To win the honour of coming back home again…"
York dodged away from the first shots and fired again, before leaping into the group, drawing his knife in the process. He slashed one man across the throat, ducked under a blow and drove his knife into a man's gut. The song continued to blare through his helmet.
"…a declaration embedded deep under my skin,
A permanent reminder of how we began,
No hesitation when I am commanded to strike
You need to know that you're in for the fight of your life…"
Three more men fell before a rifle was slammed into the back of York's head. As he fell to the ground, blackness rushing in to overwhelm his senses, he heard Delta's voice.
"Don't worry York, I'll take care of everything…"
As York hit the floor one of the guards stepped forward and pointed his riffle at York's head. His finger eased back on the trigger…only to have a knife jammed into the barrel. The man looked on in horror as York stood and grabbed his jacket before drawing his shotgun from his back and firing point-blank into the man's chest. Blood splattered across York's armour. As he let the body fall he looked up at the other guards standing stricken by the sudden assault.
York spoke, but he spoke with the voice of Delta, untouched by emotion and filled with a cold and calculated cruelty.
"No more games. Now it's my turn…"
When York came to he was walking down a long featureless corridor. He paused for a moment to try and figure this out and then noticed the weight in his hands. He looked down to see his armour was completely covered in blood. In his right hand he held his shotgun and in his left he held…an arm. A human arm that appeared to have been torn off halfway between the elbow and the shoulder. Sickened, York searched the back of his mind.
"Delta, what did you do?"
"What was necessary."
"It was necessary to tear off someone's arm?"
"For the hand print. I checked the system and the only elevator to the sub-basement requires a hand print. The security systems are very robust. I could hack them…if I had several days to work with."
"Okay." York took a deep breath, "So you can control me?"
"After a fashion. I can assume control of this body in high stress situations, but only for about fifteen minutes at a time or longer if you are unconscious."
"I see. Have you ever done this before?"
"When we escaped from the Freelancer installation. And a few other times. What can I say, I like to go to a party every now and then."
York shook his head, "I just can't deal with this at the moment. Let's just focus on the job at hand."
"Agreed." York felt Delta take control of his arm as they neared a corner and point his shotgun into the surprised face of an oncoming soldier before pulling the trigger. As the man's body crumpled Delta spoke again, "The door to the lift should be around the next corner. Prepare yourself York. We are almost there…"
York rounded the last corner, raising his shotgun and shooting the single oncoming guard in the face. As the body hit the floor, York looked ahead to the blast doors into the lift, with the hand print reader beside it. Walking forward he placed the severed arm's palm on the reader. There was a seconds delay, then the light above the door switched from green to red and the lift door opened. He stepped inside and pressed the descent button. As the lift began to descend, he began his preparations...
As the lift began to approach the bottom of the shaft, Freelancer Louisiana shook her head. Typical York, always making things difficult. He should have just let the Project scientists take Delta all those years ago. But he had to become attatched to the bloody AI. Her momentary feeling of regret at having to kill someone she had once been close to was flooded out by a wave of resentment from Rho. Rho had always hated Delta, ever since the Project leaders had deemed Delta's cool logic to be superior to his own sadistic cruelty.
Louise smiled grimly. Her loyalties had always lain with the Project at any rate. York's refusal to comply with their descisions had doomed him from the start. Now he would die.
She looked at the leader of the eight man squad guarding the lift with her.
"Prepare to fire on my mark." The sergeant nodded.
Louise watched as the lift slowly ground to a halt.
She raised her hand.
The squad took aim upon the door.
The doors began to open.
Her hand dropped and the squad opened fire.
The first bullet struck sparks from the back of the lift...
And the gas inside exploded outwards. Louisiana and the entire squad were thrown backwards. As she struggled to her feet in the aftermath of the explosion she took an assessment of the situation. The sergeant and one other guard had been killed by pieces of shrapnel thrown from the lift and a third was a writhing, screaming ball of flame. The other five men were still trying to regain their balance. And if that wasn't bad enough, two tear-gas grenades had just bounced out of the wreckage of the lift...
York dropped down into the shattered remains of the lift from where he had been hanging in the cables above. Thanks to the air filters in his helmet he was unaffected by the gas now permeating the air. The guards were not so lucky. York looked around at the five defenceless figures, coughing and spluttering, their eyes screwed shut against the gas and hated himself for what he was about to do. However they would be more of a problem later.
He drew his pistol and fired. Five clean shots and it was over.
York holtered his weapon and began down the passage way. He had only taken a few steps when Louisiana stepped out of the darkness and fired. York took the first shot to his shoulder before ducking behind cover. As he fumbled at his belt for an object held there, his healing unit slowly pushed the bullet from his flesh, till it hit the ground with a soft tinkle.
"You're getting slow York." Louise called. "There was a time when that shot wouldn't have even come close to hitting you."
"Times are changing Louise. There was a time when I would have felt bad about having to kill you."
"You know I was thinking the same thing..."
They both stepped out at the same moment. Louise pointed her rifle at York, but he raised the object in his hand. She ducked back behind cover and shouted.
"What is that?"
"A detonator. Connected to explosives throughout the building. If I let go of this button or if this thing stops transmitting for any other reason then we get an entire millitary base dropped on our heads."
"What an interesting idea." In one movement Louise spun out of her hiding place and pointed at York. A beam of white energy flashed from her hand and struck the transmitter. The blinking light on top of the device went out...
Throughout the base's air-ducts all the explosives that had been slowly venting gas since York had activated the detonator openned up and sparked...
The explosion as the gas ignited rocked the entire installation. York and Louise stumbled about before they regained their balance. Louise was the first and she was off like a hare down the tunnel. York strugled to his feet and tore after her as rubble and smoke began to pour down the elevator shaft. Louise was about a hundred meters in front of him, but with Delta pumping adrenaline and other stimulants into his bloodstream he was able to push himself beyond normal physical limits and began to gain on her. More explosions rocked the tunnel about him.
Ahead he saw a track and a service tram. Louise leapt aboard and started the tram and, as cracks spiderwebbed across the ceiling it began to move. York redoubled his efforts to reach the cargo carriage behind the tram. The display of his speed on the inside of his visor gradually grew higher. He drew closer to the back of the carriage, but by now the tram was gaining speed. York pushed himself to his limits to reach the tram. Red warning lights began to flash in his visor as muscles and ligaments began to tear and bones began to fracture under the strain that was being placed on them. He closed the last few feet and leapt, catching hold of the back of the carriage with one hand. His feet dragged behind him for a moment before he caught hold with his free hand andpulled himself up and onboard. Behind him the tunnel roof gave way.
He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't support his weight, so he began to half crawl, half drag himself to the front of the tram. Slowly his healing unit repaired the damage to his legs and he began to straighten and walk, unsteadily at first but soon with more surety.
At the end of the car he jumped across to the next carriage and began to work at the on opening the door. The handle was old and stiff from lack of use, but after straining at it for a couple of seconds he managed to pull it open. He peered carefully into the darkness of the carriage...and met Louise's fist coming the other way.
York sprawled back onto the rear car, just into time to have a piece of ceiling twice the size of his head smash down beside him. He rolled away from it, only to have Louise come and kick him in the gut.
York rolled about, clutching his belly, until Louise reached down and took him by the neck. He raised his hands to remove the grip that was slowly choking the life out of him, but then he felt a pulse of energy from her hand and suddenly he felt the strength go out of him. The bitch! She had used an EMP on his armour. Without the added strength offered by the Freelancer tech, not least of which was his healing unit, then he would be at a distinct disadvantage.
As Louise dragged him closer to the edge of the car, York felt a small spark in the back of his mind. He called out silently.
"Delta?"
"The one and only."
"How-?"
"I installed a back-up power supply while you were asleep one night. It is just enough to keep me going for a few hours."
By now Louise had brought him to the edge and was gradually forcing him down to the elctrified third rail.
"What do I do D? Without my armour I don't stand a chance."
"We can still win. We just have to be logical."
A long series of figures and calculations streamed past on his visor followed by a detailed set of instructions. Despite his situation York smiled. This was just like Delta to come up with such a plan. And it might just work.
York had almost reached the rail when a new song cued up in his visor and he sprang into action. Removing his hands from Louise's wrists, he placed them on the edge of the car, then using the extra leverage he brought his legs up between them and kicked out, hurling her back along the length of the car. As another huge section of ceiling behind them gave way and York pulled himself up right, the song began again.
"Just stop, enough of the limitless critical comments on my life
Just drop the judgement and all of your pseudo-involvement in my life
Step back a moment, and look at the miracle starting in our life
Don't stop the moment, and let the incredible happen knowing that
All that you want is to criticize
Something for nothing
And all that I want is forgiveness one more time
To be the best in the world..."
Louise sjumped to her feet and rushed at York she swung her fist almost too fast for a human to dodge. York however, thanks to Delta's predictive logic, had already stepped out of the way. She swung again and then tried a high kick, but York dodged and ducked both of these, before throughing a punch of his own which connected with Louise's left side. She retalliated again and again, with increasingly desperate attacks, but dodged all of them before making his own well placed strikes. Before long they had cirlcled about until they had changed positions, with Louise now towards the back of the tram.
"All that you want is to criticize
Something for nothing
And all that I want is forgiveness one more time
I know that
All that we want is to feel inside
Some kind of comfort
And all that we've done
We can hide
We'll be the best in the world
We'll be the best in the world..."
In desperation she pulled out her pistol and fireed. York stepped left, right, he ducked to avoid a third shot before drawing his own pistol and firing. The shot smashed Louise's own weapon from her hand. She went for her second pistol, but a shot to her shoulder spun her about to sprawl on the deck. She looked up at York with hate filled eyes.
"Shoot!" she screamed. "Shoot!"
York shook hs head as he stepped back onto the other carriage. "No."
"I'll die before I let you take me prisoner." She pulled a grenade from her belt just as York spoke.
"I have no intention of taking you alive."
With that he raised his pistol and fired. The bullet, flying along a precise path predicted by Delta, struck the grenade.
Louise didn't even have time to scream.
The explosion destroyed the rear car and accelerated the collapse of the tunnel. As the rubble began to gain on the tram York turned and ran to the front. When he reached the engine he saw the end of the tunnel ahead. It was a hangar and sitting at the far end of it was what looked to be a modified Hornet, specially adapted for high speed travel.
York looked back along the tram. No time for a stop. Intead he made the tram accelerate further, before climbing onto the roof of the vehicle. As the tram smashed into the safety stops at the end of the station, York leapt from the roof, rolled on his landing and began to run towards the Hornet. Behind him the hangar roof began to give way, falling onto the large tanks of jet fuel at the back of the hangar and setting off a a chain reaction of explosions.
York jumped into the Hornet and started the aircraft, completely by passing all the pre-flight checks. As he began to move forward the inferno behind him grew yet more intense. He began to pick up speed, moving faster and faster towards the exit of the hangar, but so did the flames behind him. He raced ahead of the flames and had almost reached the open air when the burning maelstrom rushed forward and engulfed him...