Protector of Men Ch 46

"Kesia, we need to get in," Cover told her. She was fumbling around the computer interfaces, trying to get them available for upload. It was slow business without someone to help her.

"Sorry," she answered quietly, moving over to their chairs. Kemp stood watch quietly, knowing that soon, she'd have to help. Kemp was a bit nervous to put in the needles; she was still afraid of them herself. Kesia strapped in the two men's arms and motioned for Kemp to come.

"Just all the way in," she advised her, stepping back into her operating chair. Kemp nodded quietly, her eyes wide in fear. Slowly she began to insert the needle, but she finished with a quick thrust. Shade grimaced as he uploaded into the matrix.

She was running as fast as she could. She didn't care anymore if the guns accidentally discharged, and jammed them back into her belt. Suddenly the need for a holster was much more pressing than before.

The car was only a few yards in front of her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she approached the vessel – it was a POS, but it was a car. That meant she'd be able to move faster, and time was of the essence.

The door was locked, but she punched a hole through the window and unlocked it quickly. Vanity was not a question now – it was survival. The only question now was how to hotwire the machine. Zandra had remembered the upload, and got to work.

"We're in," Cover told Kesia. He then hung up and looked out the door. He sighed.

"We have to find her quickly," he told Shade. Shade nodded in agreement.

"Be careful."

It was taking too long. Zandra worked feverishly, but the wiring wasn't working. The model was too old – the wires were beginning to fall apart and there was rust on its interface. Beads of sweat soon formed on her brow as she toiled away at the machine. She looked outside. Smiths were running. She worked harder, her fingers tripping over each other as she clipped some, tied others. It was taking too much time.

Cover and Shade were in the garage, and hurrying. They took the first car they could find – an old Pontiac GTO. It wasn't the best, but it was fast. Shade had to admit that he didn't mind, and felt a little bad that Cover was going to drive. But someone had to be the gunner. Shade pulled out his gas gun – an obvious pick from him. It was powerful, deadly, and different. Cover started the engine and they were on their way, Shade leaning out the window every few moments.

"Be on the lookout."

Zandra gave up on the car. There wasn't enough time for her to get away by hotwiring, it was just taking too long. And the Smiths were fast – perhaps even too fast for her to handle.

She abandoned the vehicle and looked around her for an escape route. The roads were too open, too dangerous for her to just run down. She'd need an alternate route. Her eyes stopped on a fire escape ladder on a building near her. Rooftops? That sounded good.

She took one last look at the coming onslaught before fleeing. There were four of them, and it looked like they were running to her. They were still a ways off, but they were coming quickly. No time to waste, she told herself. She ran to the building and up the rungs of the ladder, the Smiths gaining.

The view was much different on the roof. Zandra had a hard time feeling as tense up there, nothing barring her from just reaching up and touching the sky…

But there was no time for that. The Smiths were climbing up the ladders already, Zandra only twenty feet ahead. She'd have to get moving.

Luckily, the roof was flat, and fairly large. She'd be able to get a good running start before she'd have to leap to another building. The task seemed a little daunting, but Zandra threw away as much fear as she could muster. As long as it was all in her head, then confidence was 99% of the battle. If she couldn't believe, then she would have already lost. But she not only believed, she knew. No one could deny her talent.

The loose concrete crunched under her feet, and went sailing in arcs behind her as she ran. One of the Smiths was finally up, and gave chase once he realized that she was getting away. He wouldn't let her escape yet – not when he still needed information! He had been so close to knowing, so close to finally getting to Neo, fulfilling his duty and having the slate wiped clean…

The edge was getting closer; Zandra was preparing for the jump. Just like the upload, she told herself, building up her energy. Just like before. There were now three up on the roof, and more coming. Almost there.

She closed her eyes as she vaulted herself off of the building and into the air. Up, up, higher in the air she flew as the Smiths pursued her. She felt exhilarated by the wind whipping her hair behind her, causing her clothes to ripple and cascade, the rush of it leaving her breathless as she sailed towards the next building. In a moment she had landed, and rolled before continuing to run. She smiled unconsciously as she continued to flee. It was almost enjoyable.

This building wasn't as hospitable though. Its raised ceilings gave her quite a workout as she ran up and down the steep inclines and away from Smith. But he held on, and was still pursuing.

"Will we be there soon?"

"Be patient."

But Cover wasn't being entirely patient himself. He kept fidgeting in his chair, and it was clear to both of them that the present situation was dire. If they didn't find Zandra… she would definitely be dead. They didn't want to think about what they'd do to her before that.

They were almost to the building, and driving fast. It would only be a few minutes until they arrived.

Zandra could sense that they were coming; whether it was hearing or something more, she did not know - or care. What did matter was that they were coming, and if she didn't tell them where she was, they'd drive right past her. Now she could see them driving down the street next to the buildings, coming quickly. She'd have to do something drastic.

She stopped running for a moment to observe her surroundings. Five Smiths approaching from one direction, the car from another. A little longer, she pleaded, just a little more…

Smith was becoming confused. Why was this girl standing there? Was she really this naive to think he wouldn't capture her? She should be running, he raged, I am dangerous! He growled at her while approaching, which caught Zandra a little off guard. It was disconcerting to hear six identical men growl at her while in pursuit.

There was only one thing to do – only one thing she could do. Zandra turned to the left and threw herself off of the building. She let the wind take her as long as it would.

Smith watched in silent wonder. What is she doing?

And then he saw the car.

Shade and Cover continued in silence as they advanced on the building.

"Do we know where she is?" asked Shade. Cover didn't respond, but Shade already knew the answer. He dreaded the search that they would have to do. There were still agents buzzing the place, and with this new guy, they wouldn't know what to do. Everything was a mystery.

Zandra continued to soar through the air. Much of her cares were cast out in the wind, and by now she had let it decide her future. If Smith followed, then he would follow. It was out of her hands now. She tentatively opened her eyes for a moment, wondering how long the ecstasy would last, and found herself fifty feet in the air, soaring towards Shade and Cover. They wouldn't see her coming.

She landed with a crash onto their hood, and looked at Cover. He detected a hint of mischief on her breathless face. Shade stared with his mouth half-open. She was simply kneeling on the front of their now-dented car, as if in the starting position for a race. Her hair was in her face, but not obstructively so. Shade was blown away.

"We're getting you out," Cover told her, braking. She nodded, then looked around. She was searching for Smith, but didn't find him. Cover blindly steered the car around and started heading back towards the garage. Zandra decided to move, and instead kneeled in front of Shade. Shade was silent, his eyes unblinking.

Smith had given up for the moment. He led his rage subside; he'd need it later. Zandra would have her time, and so would he. Smith would just have to wait until the right opportunity.

"I'm sorry," he said to another Smith, and promptly killed him.

The agents were just as aggravated. The three had failed both of their temporary missions: to eliminate the exile, and to get rid of the rebels. Smith was becoming a problem again. One that they didn't enjoy working with. He wasn't only a rogue, but an older version of what they were – and he was evading them successfully. It made them look bad. They'd need more help. It was time to create history.