Summary: After the second day of training, the X5s are beginning to believe that they may have the upper hand in this war, but when reports of Ames White lurking around the perimeter come in, Max orders all able soldiers to be on red-alert. The fighting begins.
The SiegeBy
Brin"They used to say one nuclear bomb can ruin your whole day. It was sort of a joke, until the June morning those terrorist bozos whacked us with an electromagnetic pulse from 80 miles up. You always hear people yapping on how it was all different before the Pulse. Land of milk and honey blah, blah, blah, blah with plenty of food and jobs and things actually worked. I was too young to remember, so, whatever... The thing I don't get is why they call it a depression. I mean, everybody's broke... but they aren't really all that depressed. Life goes on." –Max
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Ah, young love. How come I didn't get a boyfriend like Pick when I was seventeen? Oh well. I have Alec now. Enough said. Anyway, I'm glad things worked out between them… but I'm thinking we all have more bumps ahead of us. And, damn… they're gonna be doosies.
Chapter 8: Ames, Dames, and Video Games
"Check."
"Checkmate."
"What?!"
"That means you can't move your king to safety."
"I hate this game!" Alec sat back in his chair and began to pout.
Max laughed and pumped her arm in the air a few times. "I am the queen, I am the queen. Pay your dues!" she said, snapping her fingers at the transgenics who had bet against her. She held out a weathered old baseball cap and they deposited their bottle caps.
Alec hung his head as the others yelled at him for losing. "Sorry, sorry!" he apologized, holding his arms up in surrender. "My bad!"
"Yeah, now get outta here. It's bedtime," insisted Max, pointing towards the apartment door. Grumbling about losing their money and sending Alec a few angry looks, the other transgenics filed out. As soon as they were gone, Max gave Alec a high-five.
"Good job. We just made two hundred bucks," he announced, hugging her. "You are the queen!"
"That was sleazy, unfair, and… fun!" exclaimed Max, dumping the bottle caps onto the table. "We could probably buy a working TV with this."
"Oh, I would be in heaven if that was so," replied Alec, thinking about having their own private television. The only other ones in Last Hope were public and always set on the news.
Max gave him a mock hurt look. "Ouch. I'm less heavenly than a television? Puts me down there with the toaster ovens and gas grills."
Alec shook his head. "No, I'd say you're on the same level as the television…"
Max hit him on the head.
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"Alpha 748, come here," said Colonel Briggs.
A tall young man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes marched over and saluted the colonel.
"You do understand the situation here, right?" asked Briggs, placing a hand on the Centurion's shoulder.
"Yes, Sir."
"There are thirteen of you. As you know, 875 never returned. We don't know if he's dead or alive, but we do have a tape of his last moments. You will watch the tape and remember every face that comes into view. When you find this face," he held up a picture of Sam, "you will study her—anything you can learn. Her fighting style, the people around her, anything. And when you go inside to terminate the transgenic problem, killing her is your highest priority. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Good." Briggs handed him the tape. "There is a police van next to the barricades in which you will be able to watch this. Dismissed, soldier."
Alpha 748 saluted him, then turned and marched off.
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The next morning, Max called a meeting of the city's leaders, her X5 brothers and sisters, Lydecker, Eddie and Pick, and Dix and Leg.
"Alright, Mole managed to map out the entire city and perimeter for us. He marked where the police are located and the weak spots in the fence. The debris isn't mapped, but he and a few worker-drone transhumans are clearing the streets around the clock," Max explained, waving her hand over a few spots on the map. "We need to set up strategic barricades that we'll use for cover while under attack. Dix and Leg, you guys are in charge of that. If you need help with the locations of the barricades, ask me and I'll give you an advisor.
"I also want barracks set up. We can't have the majority of our available soldiers sleeping in the most vulnerable building in the entire city. So far, Dix and Leg have recovered lots of tools, nails, screws, that kind of stuff. We do, however, have a shortage of usable wood, so when we choose buildings for barracks we have to pick the buildings with the least amount of damage. Baba, you're in charge of that.
"Styx, I need you to be in charge of creating a safe zone for the less-able soldiers—kids, pregnant females, the wounded. And by kids, I mean anyone under the age of eighteen—with the exception of Eddie and Pick, of course. Eddie and Pick, you two are in charge of keeping the X6s in shape. But remember, only the ones over 18. When the attack comes you guys will have full control over the X6s.
"Zack and Jondy, you're in charge of sentry watches and patterns. You're going to have to make it so that it'll take the enemy a very, very long time to figure out how to get past the sentries without just mowing them down," Max continued. "Brin and Zane, I need you two to regulate some kind of plan so that, if hell does break loose again, we won't have total and complete chaos, alright?
"Syl and Krit, I know you're gonna hate me for this, but you've got to work out how we're gonna protect the kids as a last resort. Alec and I were thinking about moving the black hawk to the middle of the safe zone and, if things get too bad you can get away like that. The black hawk is hard to see without its lights on, so you will be able to slip away without being noticed.
"The rest of us will be in charge of training. Everyone understand their orders?"
Unanimous nods.
"Then get going!"
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"Hit me!"
Zack lunged at Alec, who jumped back out of harm's way. "Come on, Zacky-boy. You haven't even gotten a punch! Hit me!" taunted Alec.
Aggravated, Zack launched himself at Alec again, only to fall a foot or two short for the umpteenth time. He stood up and sighed in frustration. "Okay, I give. What's the secret?"
Alec stepped back as Lydecker moved forward to explain, "494 wasn't actually performing a trick. He was just demonstrating the frustration you can feel in a situation like this. The secret lies in the fact that one of the scientists who created you was a big video game fan."
The X5s looked at him blankly.
Lydecker continued, "Before the Pulse there was this highly popular video game called Tekken. One of the mad scientists who made you had big dreams of seeing his characters come alive. Disturbing? Very. Helpful? Yes. You see, he gave you extra control over every skeletal muscle in your entire body. If you run and jump, you'll go pretty far. But if you run, jump, and duck at the same time, you'll go even farther. 494, demonstrate."
Alec walked all the way to a wall so that he had a lot of space in front of him. He took a deep breath and ran a meter or two forward, squatted down, and launched himself forward in one swift movement. The other X5s watched, amazed, as Alec flew at least ten meters over their heads. He would've gone farther, but he ran out of room and had to grab onto a chain hanging from the ceiling in order to avoid smashing into the wall. He swung back and forth twice before jumping off and landing neatly on the ground in a kneeling position.
"And that," said Lydecker, who actually looked impressed with Alec's show, "is how you could avoid the situation that Zack was in. One lunge like that, and your opponent is done fore." He ran his fingers through his graying hair as Alec returned. "Good job, 494. That was spectacular."
"All in a day's work, Sir," replied Alec half-seriously.
Lydecker nodded, and his eyes reflected a sort of fear that confused the other X5s, but they said nothing. "There are one or two more vital things I want to show you, then I'll let you go." He motioned Alec forward. "Okay, now pay attention. This is a worst-case-scenario survival trick."
Max shot Jondy a look, and Jondy replied with a shrug.
"494, if you'll remove your shirt," said Lydecker.
Alec winked at Max and obediently pulled off his gray t-shirt.
"Now, imagine this: you're the last hope of your unit. You're going solo, trying to retrieve the key to achieving victory, when you run across a single enemy with a gun. You don't have a gun and, since we're talking Centurions, the enemy will be quick enough to dodge you if you try to take their gun. So what do you do?" He pointed to Alec's collarbone. "Get shot in a place that's not fatal. You've been taught in pain tolerance and, if you perform this right, you'll be back in action pretty quickly. The key place that will throw an enemy off is here." He gestured to the general collarbone area. "You cannot get hit any lower than about a hand's length from the top of the shoulder. Anywhere in that area and you'll be feel some intense pain, but it won't be fatal and since it's in the chest area, you can use the heart trick to make them think you've been killed. Are we clear?"
"Sir, permission to speak, Sir!" shouted Zack.
"Permission granted. You have a question?"
"Won't these tricks be useless since the Centurions are probably taught the same things?" he asked.
Lydecker grinned. "And that's the beautiful thing. The Centurions are not taught the same things as you. Their trainers are focused mainly on their soldiers working by sheer force. And though they are stronger and faster than you, they don't have the same assets. They don't have that. So, when it comes down to strategic tricks, you may have a bit of an upper hand."
This was extremely good news, and the X5s felt a small wave of hope wash over them.
"Last, but not least," continued the colonel, "is a mind trick. Generally, when you fight someone you're either taunting them or you're both silent, right? Yes. But X5s have an extra set of vocal chords that enable them to create sounds that you might not hear everyday." He looked Brin up and down. "You, 734, I know that your chords are able to create the sound of a gunshot. Purse your lips together and, as loud as you can, yell a sound similar to 'pow.' You'll sound just like a handgun. Throws 'em off 99% of the time.
Brin did as she was told, causing Max and Krit, who were standing next to her, to jump in surprise. She sounded more like a shotgun.
"599 and 205's chords are similar to that of a lion's. Make a rumbling sound at the back of your mouth and sort of… bark. It'll sound like a lion's roar. The sound is rather unnerving during the heat of battle." He moved on to Jondy and Syl. "You two were made to communicate with the so-called 'Manticore mermaids' on the field. If you make a really high-pitched squeal it sounds like a dolphin, and if you click your tongue rapidly it gives off those ultrasound waves dolphins use to navigate in the dark. You'll be surprised; if you concentrate hard enough, you'll be able to use that just like a bat or dolphin.
"471 and 452…" Lydecker crossed his arms over his chest as he came to stand in front of them. "You two were made to communicate to each other in wilderness battle without giving it away to the enemy. So you were given a set of hawk vocal chords. You just make a high-pitched, back-of-the-mouth sound and it'll form words in your mind. I don't know how, but it does. This goes for the rest of you. You can communicate on the field using your extra sets of vocal chords, except for 734 of course."
"And how do you know this?" asked Zane, not bothering to address Lydecker in a military way.
"I wrote the training plan, 205, and I was there when they came up with the concept of the X5s. You kids have no idea how much of your lives you owe to me," said 'Deck. He sighed and nodded towards the door. "You can leave now."
Without further ado, the X5s retreated to Max's apartment, where Alec pulled out a bottle of liquor he had managed to snag from the supply room. He poured them all a glass (except Syl and Brin of course) and sat down on the couch next to Max.
"It's amazing how much we didn't know about ourselves," commented Jondy.
"Physically and emotionally," replied Max, smiling at her siblings, who really weren't siblings to each other anymore. Brin sat on the floor with her head resting on Zane's shoulder, one of his arms wrapped about her waist. Syl was snuggled up with Krit in the armchair. Jondy and Zack sat near the fire with their arms around each other. It was a mind-blowing thing to see.
"What really gets me is the back trick," noted Krit. "I mean, it takes some pretty messed-up genes to unhinge your bones like that."
"Yeah, and they never even taught us that in contortion class," added Zane with a shake of his head. "Manticore had some pretty mean tricks up their sleeves when they cooked us up."
"It's funny… we aren't the strongest or the smartest, but apparently we're the best batch Manticore ever made," piped Syl, grinning. "That's just ironic, if you ask me. They spend billions and billions more on all the other series, but we're still superior."
"Manticore was just a bunch of loonies with lots of technology," said Alec thoughtfully. "I don't think they knew what they had gotten themselves into until the first fully-trained X5s started going out on missions. I bet they didn't even think about us having emotions for each other until you guys escaped."
"They also thought we didn't have the guts to come back and blow everything up," commented Max. "It was a lot of power put into inexperienced hands. They were trying to play God."
"Yeah, well, they didn't have much of a problem, now did they?" added Zane with a wink. "We're a good-lucking bunch compared to some of the Ordinaries. Smart, too."
The others laughed.
Zack threw back his liquor and swallowed it with a slight wince. "Shit, that's strong stuff. Hard to find these days."
Alec smiled proudly. "I once read a report on this brand of alcohol and it can cook an egg in like five minutes flat."
"Hmm… I do believe we're gonna have to get ourselves drunk on this stuff when it's all over," replied Zack as he studied his glass. "I haven't had any good alcohol for years…"
Max looked at him suspiciously. "And just how old are you, Zack? You never did tell us back at Manticore. All we knew was that you were older than the rest of us—and that doesn't tell us much. Come on."
Zack covered his face with his hands. "Now that's not a very polite question."
"You better tell us, Zack," said Zane, laughing. "Or we'll bother you forever."
"Twenty-five," mumbled Zack.
"What? I didn't quite hear that," teased Krit, putting a hand to his ear.
"Twenty-five," said Zack, louder this time.
Zane began to laugh, pointing a taunting finger at his blood brother. "I'm only twenty-two."
"Twenty-two for us," said Krit, also gesturing to Syl. "But she's older by a few months."
"I'm twenty-two, too," said Jondy.
"Twenty-three," piped in Brin.
"Twenty," Max said.
"Twenty-three," added Alec, grinning.
"You're officially the X5 senior citizen," said Zane, patting Zack on the back.
Jondy kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "It's okay, baby. I still love you." She stuck her tongue out at Zane.
"Alright, alright," interrupted Max, who had just gotten her laughter under control. "We've thoroughly loosened ourselves up with liquor strong enough to make an Ordinary's liver malfunction. If you don't mind me saying, I think we should get back to work."
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"One!"
"HYAH!"
"Two!"
"HYAH!"
"Three!"
"HYAH!"
Max stopped a few feet away from where Pick was standing. He was yelling out numbers like the trainers had done at Manticore. In front of him were all the X6s that were eighteen (none were older), which was only about seventy of them. There were one hundred fifty X6s in Terminal City, and most of them were sixteen or younger. Originally there were two hundred X6s—one hundred, then one hundred clones. Some of them hadn't made it to Terminal City and a lot of them were deceased. As Pick called out numbers they moved into a different stance like one big, well-oiled machine.
Pick noticed Max standing there out of the corner of his eye and shouted, "Pair up and spar one round. Then, you can go."
The X6s replied with an ear-splitting, "Sir, yes, Sir!" that Max was sure the Ordinaries at the perimeter had heard loud and clear.
Max shook her head and shook hands with Pick. "Why hello, Romeo, where's Juliet?"
Pick laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Taking a catnap, pun intended. She hasn't gotten very much sleep lately."
"Yeah, I can relate," replied Max with a smile. "Well, it looks like you know what you're doing. Since you seem to be doing well here, I'm gonna go see how the X5s are doing, okay?"
"Alright." Pick smiled as she walked away, then turned to examine his troops.
When Max reached the X5 training lot, she found Lydecker instructing the Xs on a few simple exercises. Alec was watching him with scrutinizing, tired eyes. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Sleepy?"
Alec leaned against her. "Just a little."
"Lydecker behaving himself?"
"Yeah."
"Go get some sleep. I'll watch him," she suggested, her hands kneading his tense shoulders.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Alec rose from the chair and kissed her on the cheek, then trudged off.
Max sat in the chair and fixed her eyes on Lydecker, the man who had single-handedly ruined the first nineteen years of her life. He had killed her brothers and sisters, chased her around the countryside, and nearly sent her back to Manticore on more than one occasion. He had let Brin be reindoctrinated, and had left Max's body in the Manticore woods without a second thought. Yet here he was, allegedly trying to help the transgenics in a war against his kind. It was hard to believe, but his training had helped. A lot. If the Centurions weren't aware of what the X5s could do then maybe… maybe the attack wouldn't be so catastrophic.
"Excuse, me Max?"
Max looked up at a young X5 who appeared to be about eighteen years old and replied, "Yes?"
"Hi, I'm Talon. It's an honor to meet you, Ma'am," stammered the young man, fidgeting nervously.
"An honor? You must have the wrong X5, Talon," replied Max, smiling at him.
He licked his lips a few times and ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. "I, um, was instructed by Colonel Lydecker to show you and X5-471 how to communicate using your hawk chords. 599, 205, 701, and 210 are also being given lessons on communication. I, uh, I can't believe I'm actually talking to you, um…" The last part was said incredibly quickly and very, very quietly.
Max touched his face to get him to look at her and chuckled. "Calm down. I'm not going to bite your head off, contrary to popular belief."
Talon laughed nervously.
"Now, I'll find my brother and you can show us how to communicate. Okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Call me Max."
"Yes, Max."
"Good. I'll be right back," Max said, sauntering off. She soon found Krit gathered around a television with a few other transgenics. The president of the hellhole known as America was on the screen, giving a speech.
"…and I, President Jefferson Ronalds, proclaim that the transgenic situation in Seattle, Washington, will be taken care of by a team of trained specialists within five days' time. The transgenics are not American citizens, nor are they even human. I will not allow them to adulterate American ground with their presence. They will be captured and sent to highly-guarded facilities where they will stay forever, unable to harm the American people. Long live America!" said the president, receiving a warm applause and cheers of support.
"The bastard," exclaimed Krit under his breath. He turned around and looked a little startled to see Max standing there. "Hey, Max."
Max shook her head. "I can't believe I voted for that guy." She looked up at her brother. "I bet it wouldn't be as bad if we could somehow contact the higher rings of government."
Krit looked over her shoulder at the little bird helicopter sitting underneath a tarp. A light bulb went on in his head. "Max, I have an idea."
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For awhile after that, things played out like a film without sound as Krit readied himself to fly to Washington to negotiate with the inner circle of the government. He and Syl shared a tender moment before he left, kissing and speaking in hushed tones about the baby and how everything would be alright. Styx, Baba, and three other X5s accompanied him, since Baba was the only one who could fly the chopper. They removed the weapons from the little bird so that their approach wouldn't seem too threatening. For a worst-case scenario, they had parachutes next to the doors.
Max watched as the little bird rose into the air and flew over the top of the buildings, quickly disappearing from sight. She instructed Brin to try and cheer Syl up, then left the guarding of Lydecker up to an X7 as Talon showed her how to communicate using hawk sounds, even though Krit was gone. Hours passed before Max finally learned all she needed to know about her extra vocal chords. Talon was specifically trained to communicate with other X5s on the field, and he was very helpful once he got over his shyness. Afterwards, Max returned to the apartment to find Alec pulling on his jacket and heading towards the door with a worried look on his face.
"Alec?" she asked, setting down a bag of rations. "Alec, what's wrong?"
Alec jumped in surprise and took a calming breath. "Max, I sent an X7 to go check out the situation at the main side of the perimeter. He saw White there, along with thirteen Centurions. White was talking to a man we assume to be the leader of the Centurions… White was dressed in a combat uniform and there were ten people standing behind him, also in combat uniform. Loaded guns, RPG launchers, SWAT shields, the works. Max, they're coming."
The impact of his words had no effect where they were unheard, however, and down at Tolerance Hall, where hundreds of unsuspecting transgenics were laying around with nothing to do, life went on as it usually did. They had no idea what was coming—and some would never know what hit them.
"Hey, Eddie, come here," called Dix, flagging the anomaly down.
Eddie wandered over to where Dix was busying himself working on a skateboard. "Yeah?"
"Watch this." The transhuman pressed a button and the skateboard rose a few feet and hovered there.
The young woman's jaw dropped. "No way! That's awesome!"
"I took the engine from an electric scooter and some motorcycle parts and put this together. You want it?"
"Hell yeah!" Eddie grabbed the skateboard from the air and turned it off. "That's wicked."
Dix opened his mouth to reply, but then everything stopped as Joshua burst onto the scene, yelling, "Red alert! Everyone, red alert! Weapons ready! Red alert!" There was a loud uproar as transgenics bolted to their feet in alarm.
"White is coming! Max says get to posts!" barked Joshua, running through the building wildly.
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Max donned a combat uniform taken from the Phalynx and picked up a machine gun from the supply pile. Transgenics were running around gathering guns and getting to their posts, though some looked like chickens running around with their heads cut off. The ones not approved for battle were being ushered to the middle of the city and pilots were being located for the choppers. She walked up to Zack, who was without armor but wearing military fatigues, and handed him some rounds. He stuck them in his pocket and nodded. "Here we go," was all he said.
Jondy, Brin, Zane, and Alec approached, all of them dressed in the combat uniforms. They huddled together and Max issued instructions, "We split into groups of two. Each group takes a command of at least thirty soldiers. I want one group at every perimeter corner. Dix and Leg have put together communication systems." She handed them each an earpiece and a small mic to be clipped onto their helmets. "Use these wisely; whatever you say might be picked up by the wrong people. Everyone understand?"
The other X5s nodded.
"Good. Move out."
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White, extremely pleased that the extra Familiars had arrived earlier than planned, adjusted his helmet and looked at Colonel Briggs. "We'll be out of there in an hour."
"You better be. And if you get my soldiers killed I'll have your ass," replied Briggs with a threatening glare. "They're worth a lot more than your entire sorry ass."
Ames smirked. "Don't worry, Colonel. The only ones who are gonna die are the freaks inside Terminal City. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must address my troops." He walked over to the group of ten Familiars dressed ready for combat. "Okay, here's the deal. Killing 452 is our main priority. After that, we'll torch the place. That oughtta flush them out. And while they run, we'll be shooting them down like fish in a bucket. Got it?"
"Yeah," replied the other Familiars.
White motioned to Briggs, who instructed his Centurions, "Alright, this guy is in charge when you get in there. I don't trust him, so if he tries anything funny Centurion Alpha will take over. Understand?"
"Sir, yes, Sir!"
Briggs nodded to White, who smirked. "Thank you, Colonel Briggs," said White sardonically. The Centurions and Familiars gathered behind him. "It's simple. Split up and kill anything you see. Understand?" Nods. "Okay, then move!" They dispersed and White turned to look at the deceivingly motionless Terminal City. "Time to die, 452," he whispered.
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Minutes ticked by slowly like hours. The transgenics knew that the enemy was on the move; coming to kill them all, but deep down inside they kept hoping it wasn't true. That this was just a false alarm. No one wanted to face the fact that on this night, they could all die. Genocide was the word on everyone's tongues. Would they be wiped out? Would all memory of transgenics be erased forever?
Zack nervously looked at Jondy, who sat with her back to him so that no one could sneak up on them. "Anything?" he asked whispered.
"Nothing," she replied.
Zack motioned to one of the X5s in the unit of twenty they were commanding. The X5 shook his head and shrugged.
"Max, Sector 4A is clear."
"Keep watch," replied Max into her mic. The tension in the air was so thick she could hardly breathe. Reports had come in that White and the Centurions had disappeared from outside the perimeter, which meant they were inside.
Which meant Max had no clue where they were.
And that was not a good thing.
After a few more minutes of waiting, Max heard Brin's voice come through the earpiece, "Max, we've spotted the enemy in Sector 2B. They've split completely and they're headed in all directions. I repeat, the enemy is on the move. Max, can you hear—"
Brin's voice cut off there, and Max grew alarmed. "Brin? Brin?! Zane, where's Brin?" She listened for a moment and heard fighting and a distinct lion's roar. Then, silence. She looked at Alec and said into her mic, "Attention all units. We've moving out. There is an enemy presence in Sector 2B. I want someone down there to check out the situation. All units on alert, the enemy has made the first move. I repeat, the ball is rolling."
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Zane was watching Brin report to Max when, suddenly, there was someone behind her. Thick, tree trunk-sized arms wrapped around her neck, pulling off her helmet, and she was thrown high into the air. He quickly pointed his gun and fired, but in a flash the enemy was behind him, knocking the gun from his hand. He turned and was promptly punched in the face. The ground came into contact with his face with enough force to shatter an Ordinary's skull, but it left him with only a headache and snapped his mic off. He jumped onto his feet with a rumbling roar that left his foe momentarily stunned – giving Zane the moment he needed. He kicked the Centurion in the face and yelled, "FIRE!"
The unit of Xs shot at the staggering Centurion, who took five bullets in the chest with barely a flinch. He then blurred forward and grabbed the gun from the hand of a stunned X5. Placing the gun at the X5's temple, he announced in a sordid voice, "Anyone moves and he's dead."
Zane looked at his unit, who had their guns trained on the Centurion's forehead, and licked his lips nervously, wincing as he tasted blood there. "Weapons down!"
The unit of X5s slowly lowered their guns.
As they did this, the Centurion let out a high-pitched whistle. Before any of the X5s could react, another Centurion jumped from the roof above them and opened fire. Zane quickly grabbed his gun and shot the rampaging Centurion in the back. She took at least twenty bullets before falling to the ground, her blood pooling into in a growing puddle of the sticky red liquid. Zane wasn't quick enough to save the X5 in the grips of the male Centurion, however, and the X5 was dead before the female Centurion hit the ground. The other Centurion was nowhere to be found, but a blood trail was heading off in a southerly direction.
Zane took several calming breaths. His throat tightened as he surveyed the damage. Ten of the original thirty soldiers lay dead on the ground. Brin wasn't looking too good herself; a crumpled heap of bones lying awkwardly in a puddle of reddening rainwater. He picked his mic up from the ground and choked, "This is X5-205 from Sector 2B, we've got ten dead and several wounded. Medical assistance is needed ASAP. We managed to kill one enemy soldier, but another got away and I have reason to believe he's heading towards sector 3A. I repeat, medical assistance ASAP. Over."
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"Roger that," replied Max through clenched teeth. She looked at Alec sadly. "Alec, contact the medical team and send them down to Zane's position in Sector 2B ASAP."
Alec nodded solemnly and started speaking into his mic, which was connected with a different set of transgenics – the rescue and medical teams. These teams operated from the inner sanctions of the city, pulling back wounded and dead from the line of fire. He was sorry to say that they had their work cut out for them.
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In Sector 3A, Eddie and Pick were engaged in an urban battle for a pivotal junction of Last Hope. Whoever held control of this intersection could split Last Hope into two parts… so if the enemy seized power over this point, then they could scatter and divide the transgenics forces with minimal strategic planning. Not good. The worst of it was… the transgenics were losing.
Slowly but surely, Pick could see their perimeter collapsing. He stood inside what once was a thrift store, peering out into the darkness through a large hole in the wall. A dead Centurion lay in the middle of the narrow street in front of the hole – courtesy of Pick's AK47 – and now all he had to do was wait for the Centurion's comrades to inspect the body… At least, that's what he hoped they would do. These Centurions… they were trained differently. He could see it in the way they moved. Their movements didn't make much sense to Pick, but whatever their strategy was – it was working. He and Eddie had been separated in the midst of an explosion, but they had spoken over the com a few times. From their talks, he had gathered that she was with the rest of their assigned unit somewhere in the rooftops.
A sound outside the building distracted him. Muscles tensed, he leveled his gun toward the opening in the wall. The first thing to come into view was the barrel of a rifle. It paused in midair for several minutes before moving forward until the glowering face of the gun's owner came into view. Pick's finger tightened on the trigger. Two more steps and he would have a clear shot. One… He froze.
No. The word echoed in his mind.
The soldier had a body slung over his shoulder. As he moved farther into view, the neck turned and the face became visible. Eddie. If he took a shot, there was a very real chance that he would hit her. Was she dead? He gulped. His mind was spinning. How? Surely someone would've contacted him!
"Don't move."
The voice made Pick start in surprise. He winced as the cold steel of the nose of a gun was violently jammed into his neck. It was a trap. He was beaten at his own game! But how?
"Drop your weapon."
Pick immediately did as he was told. The Centurion outside the building unceremoniously dropped Eddie and stepped into the room with a smirk on his face. The one with the gun to Pick's neck laughed derisively.
"She put up a good fight, I'll give her that. The Alpha has made a personal request that we bring you both to him. He likes to break the leaders before he kills them," explained the Centurion scathingly. "He'll have a lot of fun with the both of you."
With an enraged roar, Pick lashed out against the Centurion holding him. His fist connected solidly with her nose, sending the bone into her brain and killing her instantly. The second raised his gun and fired, bullets ripping into Pick's shoulder and sending him sprawling backward onto the ground with a spray of blood. He lay there, stunned, before realizing that his com device was still on. Risking the last moments he might have, he yelled into his mic, "MAX! The Familiars have taken Junction 3! One Centurion dead! Send medical assistance ASAP! Do you copy?"
He abruptly shut up as the butt of a rifle collided with his forehead.
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Max glanced at her unit, then whispered into her mic, "Eddie, Pick, word has come in from Sector 2B that more enemy soldiers are moving in your direction. Do you copy? Over." She waited a few seconds before repeating, "Pick, come in. Pick?!" After a moment or two, she heard crackling, and some in-and-out speaking that she could barely understand.
"Famil—Centur—dead—sen—SAP—opy—"
"Shit!" Max slammed her fist against her gun angrily. "Zack, Jondy, I need you to abandon your current position and head to Sector 3A with your unit. I'll send some of my soldiers down to take care of your position."
"Roger that, Max," replied Jondy dutifully.
Max sighed and looked at Alec, who was listening to his earpiece with an alarmed look upon his face. "What?" she asked.
Alec waved his hand at her as a signal to be quiet and pressed the earpiece more snuggly into his ear. After a few moments, the color drained from his face and he turned to Max to say, "The black hawk and one of the apaches took off. White and the Centurions got past everyone. So far, thirty reported dead and seventy wounded. Brin and Zane and Eddie and Pick have been overtaken. Several medical teams are missing and the rescue squads have been taken as prisoners. Jondy and Zack are headed straight into an enemy perimeter. White is headed this way with ten people with him—we don't know if they're Familiars or Centurions. We've got to leave, Max!"
Max's heart dropped as she looked first at Alec, then at the X5s and one or two X6s in her unit. They were all staring at her, waiting for a response. The X6s looked absolutely terrified; unlike the X5s, they had never been used on the field and weren't used to this kind of warfare. Their eyes were wide and their faces sheet white, a stark contrast to their dark camouflage fatigues. Max licked her lips and quietly said, "All right, people. We're the last hope." She looked at each of them, her eyes grave. "Move out."