They had flown commercially, so that the South Africans wouldn't know that a couple of Manticore people had just shown up in LA. They would be watching for military flights, not commercial ones. It felt strange for her to fly commercial though. In training, and on missions she went by her designation number, 608. At home she was Alicia. But in public like this, it was Miss. Lydecker. It felt funny to have a last name, even one she was proud to use.
Before leaving they had cemented their plans. One of Lydecker's contacts had found where the South Africans were staying. She was to stalk them, while he looked for the fiver. He wanted to find the fiver first, but if the enemy did, she was to make sure that they left empty-handed. At all costs, he'd emphasized. She had understood.
She had thought about her strategy in capturing the fiver. If the Reds found him, she might let them all fight each other, and then clean up the situation. They would weaken each other, and she could take the rest out with no problems. It had also been noted that out of all of the fivers, only Zack had ever been known to use a gun. That was a flaw she definitely didn't have.
Lydecker had driven her to a military base that had been officially closed several years before. For an inactive base there were quite a few personnel, and an armory that made her mouth flat out water. She'd chosen the equipment herself, and checked it carefully. One of the officers had tried to shoo her out of the armory. Before reading the credentials pinned to her lapel, he'd grabbed her. She felt bad for breaking his wrist, but she didn't have time for apologies. Besides, Lydecker didn't scold her, just warned her to be a little more gentle when dealing with norms.
She had grabbed a jeep at sunset and driven back to the city. She'd been given a map of the city before leaving, and had pretty much memorized it. She'd been blessed with a natural compass in her head, and between the two was confident that she could find her way around. She loved to drive by herself. It was rare that she ever did, but no matter the vehicle, she enjoyed every opportunity.
She made it to the drop zone with no problems. There was a place for the jeep, as expected. She grabbed her gear, much less than a norm solider would need, and began running over rooftops to get to the surveillance zone. It felt good to stretch her legs after so much inactivity. She went to the place where the South Africans were staying within fifteen minutes of running.
They were at a condemned warehouse. Stereotypical place for the enemy, she thought as she set up surveillance devices. She was able to watch them from relative safety, and hear their conversations. Even if one spotted her, she could be out of there in a flash, and those big oxen would have a hard time jumping 15 feet onto another rooftop. They may be able to put their fists through steel, but long jumps were a matter of technique.
A couple of years before, she had been dragged to a spy movie with a group of norms. They had all been talking about how cool everything was in it, and the gear, and how amazing the hero was. She'd been appalled at his lousy technique, poor timing, and the general idiocy. It was amazing how the bad guy described his evil plans the moment the microphones were in place. She'd done enough recon to understand that surveillance takes more patience than anything else.
Most of their conversation was in their native language anyways. She could kick herself for not doing some sleep tapes on it, but one made due with what one had. Oddly enough, whenever their leader was on his cell, he spoke English. Third party buyer, maybe? Maybe they were planning on selling the genetic code. A drop of Manticore blood itself would be worth a bundle to the right people.
Two of them had gone out once that day. It seemed strange that for a group desperately looking for something, they were staying awful still. She had elected to stay put when they left. Two of these guys couldn't take out a fiver by themselves. She'd gotten a special code from Lydecker once. He was hot on the trail of the fiver, and might have him in custody by that night. Stay put. Listen carefully. Stay alert. The rules of surveillance didn't have much about combating boredom, but orders were orders.
She stayed put for thirty-six hours or so. I could be looking for the fiver, and still not miss anything, she thought irritably more than once. Even worse, her communications device had decided it was a good time to die. She hated being cut off from base. Even when she was under orders not to contact, it was comforting to know that she could call for help if absolutely necessary.
Finally, the leader gave them an order in English. "We are to stay here," he told them. "Alpha group will be bringing the Manticore technology shortly." She perked up at that. She was looking at the Beta Team? One team for capture, and one for recovery, a standard covert ops technique. Faulty intelligence on our part, she thought, angry with herself for not looking into it personally. Goddamn norms couldn't be trusted to find their own noses in the dark, she thought angrily.
She needed to get back to her jeep. There was a spare comm. device that she could use. Command needed to know. She plotted the time. Fifteen minutes there, five to send the message, fifteen to return. She hoped they would give her that long. She was up and running in the blink of an eye.
She entered the insertion building through a broken window on the second floor. The first floor windows had long been boarded. Despite the daylight, it was pitch black on the first floor, but she could see well enough to navigate. She approached the jeep carefully. Her nerves were screaming warnings, and she was used to listening when they did that. Something else tugged. She stopped suddenly and sniffed. Her nose was far more sensitive than a norm's, and she caught it. Sweat. Blood. She wasn't alone.
With reflexes a thousand times faster than the best athlete in the world, she suddenly dropped to the ground, feeling something pass just over her head. A glance up, and she saw the tranquillizer dart embed itself in a post behind her. Shadows became solid, and then tiny sparks of light appeared in their hands. Electric stunners, she thought.
"Just come quietly," one of them spoke. Your friend is hurt enough for the both of you. There was a punching noise and a groan. "You don't want him to get hurt worse now do you?"
The fiver? They had the fiver, but they knew she was there? This wasn't mistaken identity. They had known. Her communications were down, and they said the right thing to get her to come to them. She hadn't been stalking them; they had been baiting the trap for her. Set up, she thought. Somebody set me up. Oh, God, there's a traitor in command.
Suddenly, a car crashed through the service door, bathing them all in the light of day. The car slammed through the door, spraying wood splinters everywhere. Dust that had been caked thick on the concrete floor blew into the air in a blinding, choking cloud. The afternoon sun momentarily blinded the South Africans, and Alicia took advantage of it. Her eyes had adapted to the light almost instantly, and she didn't need to breathe for several minutes, so the dust didn't bother her.
With a powerful leap, she landed on the back of the jeep. One glance told her that the automatic rifle she'd put in the back was missing, but she still had her sidearm. She yanked it out of its holster on her waist, and immediately jumped into the air, avoiding the stunner that had been shoved towards her. She somersaulted over her attacker, landing inches behind his back. He half turned, but she'd already gotten her gun up. She fired twice into his chest, and he collapsed.
"Sorry I'm such a heart-breaker," she drawled with a savage joy at the now still figure on the ground. They may be able to take pain, but nothing can live with their heart ripped into shreds.
She spun around to survey the room. There were five more men in black. One was checking out the car. A crumbled figure was quiet on the floor. She couldn't see anyone in the crashed car. She took a step back as the four formed a semi-circle around her. Crap. Knowing what she knew about them, the odds weren't exactly in her favor. What she knew for certain was that no Manticore technology would fall into their hands. She had four small red pills in a sack on her belt. They wouldn't get the technology by any means necessary.
But there was the fiver to think about. The South Africans seemed to have forgotten him for a moment, but she was under specific orders. They know your orders solider, she thought as the circle began to close on her. They know you can't leave without him. Time for some good old-fashioned ass whipping.
Before she could make the first strike, a blur caught the edge of her eye. She dropped to the floor as a body hurled into one of the Reds. He flew over her and landed in a heap. The odds suddenly seemed to be two against five, and she liked that a lot better. The Reds lost their hesitation as two went after her, and the other three jumped her benefactor.
There was a zapping sound, and she barely avoided another stunner. Those things were starting to annoy her. She had twelve rounds left in her clip, and every shot had to count. She blocked a punch, ducked a kick, and lashed out with her foot, making contact with a knee. There was a brittle crunching sound, and the big guy stumbled, but kept lumbering after her. She couldn't tell how the other fight was going, but from the sound, her partner was still in the game.
A sharp pain wrenched her side as a stunner finally made contact. The force of the current threw her back, and she landed on the ground. They started to grab, and she jumped straight up as hard as she could, launching herself a good eight feet into the air. She twisted as she landed, and immediately kicked one of them in the back, hard enough to break a norm's spine. He was thrown into a pole, and dropped his stunner. The other one managed to backhand her, flinging her into the jeep.
Alicia's head swam for a moment, but it was instinct that told her to drop and roll. She knocked his feet from under him, and in the split second that he was on the ground, she got another shot off, directly into his forehead. He twitched once and went still. From her kneeling position she could see the other fight. He was holding his own, but barely. Time to even the odds a bit more, she thought, and took aim. She got one shot off, dropping another bad guy, before the gun was kicked from her hand.
She caught his ankle as the next kick was aimed at her face, and used his weight to swing him around. He nearly flew across the room. She grabbed the fallen stunner, snapped it across her knee and waded back into the fray. The ones that weren't dead were starting to get back up. No time to look for her gun. This is out of hand, she thought, we have to get out of here. Arms came around her chest and squeezed hard. The first guy that had been taken down had recovered enough to play some more.
She could feel the ribs cracking, and pain ripped into her chest. Both her feet came off the floor, as he lifted her, fully intending to carry her away. In a savage move, she kicked backwards, striking his knees. She shoved back until she felt the bones tear through the skin. He collapsed, unable to stand without knee joints. There was a strangled grunt, and she saw the other fighter snap one of their necks, throwing the body into another opponent.
A black van pulled up to the shattered door. More of them she realized. This was way out of control. Time to regroup. She ran over to the figure on the ground that was still unconscious. Her cracked ribs were already aching with every breath. A quick look told her what she needed to know. He was a norm, not a fiver. What the hell was that? The other fighter was definitely a fiver though.
"Solider, retreat," she yelled, hoping the fiver would obey. She threw the norm over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, and took off up the stairs. She could hear the fiver following her, and the other Reds hot on their heels. They were on the roof in seconds, leaping to the next. The fiver had dropped back a bit, but he was close enough to follow.
Strategy time, she thought. I can't ask for help and give away my position. Where can I go? Inspiration struck. She turned and started back towards where the Reds were staying. The last place you go is deeper into enemy territory. It went against every bit of her training, but the traitor would know that too and think she was headed for command. She had left up the surveillance equipment. Maybe they spoke to the traitor after she had left. Anything as a clue to his identity would be welcome.
By the time she got there, the black van had circled several times, but they'd moved fast enough to avoid being seen. At least she hoped they had. Her chest felt like it was on fire, and she was panting as she collapsed on the roof. She lay for several minutes breathing hard, with her eyes half closed. She hoped she hadn't scratched a lung. That had happened a couple of years ago, and it had been a pain to heal.
The fiver wasn't around. He had jumped onto another roof right before they got to the destination, and was seen by the van. Running interference, she thought. She finally took a look at the norm that she had saved. He better have some answers when he regained consciousness, she thought, wincing as she moved her wounded ribs.
He would probably look decent without the cuts and bruises, she decided. Blonde hair, and, curiously enough, a blotchy black tattoo on the back of his neck. It looked like it had been partially removed. She touched it. The barcodes had a different feel than a regular tattoo. He was definitely a norm.
She heard a gun cock behind her head. "Let him go," a hard voice commanded.
She put her hands up. "I just had to fight a pack of cyborgs to save him," she said. "I'm not going to hurt him now."
There wasn't much time. Pretty quick someone was going to catch on to where they were, and she didn't feel like round two just yet. With every bit of speed and agility she could muster, she spun around, her leg flashing up, catching the gun, and flinging it away. He jumped back, but just not quick enough.
Suddenly they were finally looking at each other. It was easy to see why she'd managed to out maneuver a fiver. He had gotten the worst of the fight. She'd had a hard time doing hand-to-hand combat with them, and had taken one out fast. He'd had three, and they had obviously no pulled punches. His lip was split, and his eye was swollen. There was a black mark from a stunner on his shoulder where his shirt had been ripped. Their eyes met, and she literally felt overloaded with shock. The face and body were a strange man's, but she would recognize those eyes anywhere.
"Zack?" she whispered.