At a thousand feet above, the flock of banshees made their return journey to Bridgehead. Brooding was the recombinant leader as he drifted through the skies, sour from the successful mission; he was operating on auto-pilot as he let his body perform what his superiors programmed. He neared the city and detected something stringent in the air. Quaritch leaned forward on Glorious to achieve a better view, but all was obscured with more smog than usual. Far below, he faintly espied random pillars of smoke. The recombinants landed first on the tarmac, and everything was in a state of confusion. In the distance, sirens blew, and gunships by the dozen took off in the direction of the sea with helibuckets dangling.
"What happened here?" asked Warren.
"Don't know," his commander replied.
"There's no one here waiting for us."
"What do we do, sir?"
"Wait," Quaritch said while detaching his queue. "Someone will show."
"Look. There's a convoy coming."
Quaritch squinted to where Lyle pointed. Speeding across the tarmac and heading straight for them were a dozen or more heavily armoured vehicles, with one being a long, compartmentalized truck the size of a semi.
Lyle grimaced. "Why the hurry?"
The leader had no answer, but he didn't like the looks of it. Suddenly, Gloria shrieked and took off with the entire flock ensue; that's when Quaritch knew something was wrong. The black motorcade broke from formation and formed an immediate ring around their group. Doors shot open, and HAF soldiers came rolling out with machine guns trained on their bodies, shouting, "On your knees! Hands behind your heads!" The troopers were ready to shoot them all dead if the colonel didn't get the rest of his team to comply and fast. "Do as they say," he ordered, and the giants were subdued.
Back on the Dragon, the platforms were lowered, and Walker marched off with her hostage when she, too, was surprised by aggressive HAF soldiers who surrounded them at gunpoint. Kiri heeded the shouts, amazed that both her and her recombinant captor were receiving the same treatment. SKEL suit troopers came and confiscated Walker's knife, rifle, pistol and vest. They were forced back up and warned with deadly barrels to "Get moving!" As Kiri was escorted past the ring of vehicles, she caught, through the slivers, the rest of the rekoms. Quaritch had chanced to cast his eye left at that moment and felt irony's bite when their gazes met. The women were shoved towards a parked transport that had twelve giant gullwing doors running down both sides of the body, resembling a beetle taking flight. They were thrust inside.
"What the damned hell are you motherf*****s doing?!" shouted Bridgette as the door came down upon them. The two were now alone inside a cramped cage lit by a porthole. "This is great," she huffed, slumping down on her back next to the adolescent.
Kiri shook Walker's shoulder to get her attention, then trembled her head with an exaggerated shake of her open palms—the best way she could ask, "What is happening?"
"You're mute?"
Kiri bobbed her fist.
"Well, how do you like that? We go and kidnap a kid who's disabled." The woman sighed in a grumble. "You know…that was a really brave thing you did? I'm sorry about what happened back there—we were just following orders. Which turned out great, as you can see." Kiri was visibly surprised by her statement; however, they were interrupted by the sound of more gullwing doors latching, followed by the bedlam of angry men hurling oaths and ramming walls in their demand for answers. Walker stood up and peered through the metal mesh window wrapping around the cell's top that gave her a view into the other compartments. "Hello, boys."
The men turned. To Quaritch's misfortune, their cells were abutted. "Walker. Fancy meeting you here. Come often?"
"What the hell is happening, Colonel?"
"You think I know?"
"Girl's with me, too."
He swore and faced away, saying over his shoulder, "Guess she's also VIP."
Gripping the mesh, Johnny gulped. "They're taking us out—rounding us up like cattle to be sent to the butcher!"
"You need a hug there, Johnny?" Warren droned.
"Maybe."
"If they wanted to shoot us," Quaritch spoke up, "they could've easily done it out there on the tarmac. Whatever this is, it'll sort itself out."
"Sir?"
"What is it, Corporal?"
"This transport has twelve sections. Big enough for a Na'vi."
"What's your point, Lyle?" he gruffed.
"Who was it built for?"
Quaritch didn't entertain the answer as Wainfleet's observation began a panic.
"This is a setup!" shouted Fike.
"It was their intent to do us in all along!"
"We're done for."
"All of you! Stay calm!" Quaritch bellowed. "I don't want any of you losing their s***!" But the colonel, himself, was far from calm and was using anger to mask his own fear—fears that somehow, this was all happening because of him—because of what he did to Spider—his failure to bring back Augustine; and then, the thought that only just hit him, the fact that he had let a traitor live. He was so distracted by the girl that he forgot he had a duty to kill Sully. Quaritch palmed his brow, squatting onto his tail in shock, trying to figure out what exactly happened back there. For some reason, he thought moving on without killing Sully was his directive. Miles stared at the metal sheet that divided him from the girl; it was too thin; there was not enough space between them. He stood up and distracted himself with the sights beyond the porthole—the most distance he could win. There was something very, very off about that child.
The transport lumbered onward, and the other occupants peeked through their glass ports, trying to deduce where they were going, but all they could glean were the bustlings of a high-strung city.
"What's that stench?"
The smell of death agitated the recombinants, who were already unsettled by Johnny's slaughterhouse analogy. Quaritch took in the air that reeked of processing and rotting fish and recognized where they were. He kept his composure while still reminding his team to stay calm despite the better instruction of his own instincts. The vehicle parked in an open space; and, outside, they saw workers in safety vests backing away from the truck, followed by the sound of very shrill beeps. Suddenly, a quake shook the vehicle, and the whole of their transport began descending deep beneath the ground with plates overhead closing like a second eclipse; the katabasis began. Questions were fired out, but all the prisoners could do was watch lines of fluorescent lights ascend past their eyes.
Lower and lower, the demons sunk into the underworld with their prize, Persephone; only this time, karma stripped Hades of his sceptre, and he and his minions were to be delivered alongside her as sacrifices for some unknown god.
The lift halted, and white lights flared on, invading the narrow spaces of their dark compartments. When the engines started again, the transport rumbled down a massive tunnel filled with activity. The recombinants gaped at the unfathomable vastness of the subterranean world—a secret city beneath a city, populated by construction workers, miners, military and other drones contributing to the colony. Whoever governed this domain and what its purpose was, Vrrtepeyktan did not know. They travelled down a slim road, passing a new sight horrifying in its scale. Behemoth pipes lined the wall like some half-buried organ that would surface on judgement day to be played in one last hurrah. Sea water rushed through the cylindrical bodies, causing a dreary rumble to moan throughout the underworld.
For a long while, they were driven down the tunnel network, passing through checkpoints, each more despotic than the last, until some began questioning if they were still within the perimeter of Bridgehead. Finally, the journey came to an end. The gullwing doors raised, and ready and waiting were the servants of Hades, commanding their captives to vacate the cages. Each giant emerged from the vehicle into weak, stale air. They stood on soil, but the smell was hardly perceivable past the stench of industry present in the dugout cavern. Without carbon dioxide shots, the captives were struggling to breathe as they waited for titanic, hermetically-sealed gates to finish opening. From the pried maw came SKEL guards in EXO packs, wielding either rifles or cattle prods to press them forward. The recombinants were transferred to the new unit's custody, and the gates behind them were sealed shut.
The detainees found themselves in a bleak prison compound. Guards directed the group into a double file, and as they shifted into their positions, Quaritch nudged Wainfleet so they would control the back. They were given the order to move, and the train shuffled down an ominous white hall. The colonel studied the recombinant-sized assault weapon in his escort's metal grip, and with a distinct inhale, he captured the attention of his corporal, then used a motion of his eyes to prompt Wainfleet to take note of the guard to his right. Lyle twitched his ears in lieu of a nod that he understood the plan. Up ahead, Quaritch spied an opening to a new hall. After walking past, he noted the space had very few guards. They were three steps away from it when the Marines engaged.
In a flash, two SKEL suits were rammed against the wall, with the culprits seizing their weapons and using them to shoot the guards directly behind. On Quaritch's signal, him and Lyle bolted for the desired corridor, where they pulled the emergency, sealing off the entrance. Instantly, sirens blared, and red lights oscillated as the recombinants careened down the hall, firing off their automatics and hitting every trooper in sight. Up ahead, their escape route was slowly shutting. The two fugitives launched themselves through the slit and glided on their chests with weapons still spitting.
"Stairs right!" the colonel shouted, and both momentarily ceased fire to break for the new section. The giants bypassed a flight of stairs with one leap to reach the bottom, where Quaritch then peered around a corner to spy the new floor. Using hand signs he relayed to Lyle his plan of attack, the last finger signalling "Now!" They rolled into the hall, and each fired down a side until the path was cleared.
Pandemonium breaking loose, the warden of the underworld reached for the radio to demand for the roll-out of specialized backup.
Guards were on alert when they were suddenly jumped. Metal bones swung for the recoms, but the blue Marines ripped off their EXO packs. The compromised humans were then tossed across the floor, suits and all, toppling anyone left standing. The sounds of another wave echoed off the walls. "We charge for those doors!" Quaritch commanded. They built up speed and, with all their muscle, flew at the blockade. It wasn't locked. The overpowered attack swung the Titans into a harmless utility room. The colonel spun his head around the storage space, then smacked Lyle's rear, prompting him to protect their entrance. The sniper readied himself at the doorway and sent a stream at the oncoming enemies.
After shaking a crushed bucket off his foot, Quaritch went to work scanning the robotic floor cleaner he had stumbled over; it resembled a Zamboni.
The hall ahead was being clogged with guards, firing from around their formation of bullet-proof shields.
"More are coming, sir! They got shields and are gaining ground!"
In reaction, Miles stepped back from the floor cleaner and fired a test round into it. The bullets dented the plating but did not penetrate. Cackling in delight, he turned the robot and set the wheels to turn 90 degrees so it could be driven sideways; he then carefully worked it towards the door. When Lyle saw what he was doing, he moved for a corner, giving his colonel enough room to roll out their mobile barricade.
Flashes exploded off the robot, jostling from the abuse as it shielded the two crouching recombinants pushing it forward. The guards retaliated by shooting for the wheels, but even when the rubber flew off the metal hub, and the friction caused sparks to fly, the recombinants didn't stop. When Quaritch sensed they were close enough, he shouted the command, and the two rammed the vehicle ahead, sending it barreling through the glut. Screams pealed through the hall, and the recoms fell upon the injured men, grappling, shooting and hurling those that remained. Once the area was swept, the two rebels stood in triumph, but there was no time to revel in victory; they had to get moving.
They ran around another corner when Lyle, with his lightning-fast reflexes, swung his weapon to knock his commander to the floor. A round of explosive light shot over their heads, and Quaritch recognized the unmistakable rattle of a GAU-90 30 mm cannon chewing through its belt. The chaos stopped, and the two levelled to a crouch to witness the great AMP suit at the end of the hall. A door slid shut behind them, and they were trapped.
"I got both cornered," the driver spoke. "Do I exterminate?"
"Take them alive if you can," the radio replied.
The bigger giant stomped towards the pair of recoms as the escapees lowered their weapons and raised their hands. "You remember these suits, Lyle?" Quaritch said while setting his palms behind his head.
"Hard to forget, sir. Died in one."
"What do you remember most about them?"
"Their reaction time was slow."
"Couldn't agree more."
The AMP came closer, its cannon bearing down as a gaping black hole, ready to spit fire at any moment.
"Their auto-stabilizing gyro function was also s***," Lyle added.
"You just didn't train long enough," Quaritch joked in the face of the threat.
The AMP ceased its march, only a trigger pull away from obliterating the men if they dared move. Miles remained calm, and in his peace, his tail was obedient to his mental command. The instant Lyle felt the tip touch his back, he sprang into action; he dove left and Quaritch right, both barely missing the raging shell storm. They leapt onto the AMP suit's arms, clambered to the cockpit and roared down at the stunned driver. The AMP threw aside its assault weapon to reach for the recombinants, but they ducked behind the body to avoid the grabs, throwing the suit off balance and sending the driver into an unrecoverable teeter. The recombinants jumped off right before the giant hit the floor in one thunderous boom. When the driver finally made it back onto his metal feet, he was greeted by the sight of his GAU-90 30 mm cannon. Quaritch and Lyle waved with their free hands, then launched the projectile.
The underdogs came over and could not resist a loud and triumphant high-five when a succession of shots sailed through the air. The Deja Blu leader vaulted the fallen AMP and ducked low as sparks flew off the metal. "Remain down, were heading—!" He was midway through his command when he realized Lyle wasn't with him. The commander peered under the mechanical arm and spotted his teammate on the other side, flat on the ground and in a pool of blood. Miles would've roared, but he was struck silent. The unrelenting assault forced the colonel to pull away. He had no weapons to fight back, no way to enact revenge; the lone fighter had no option but to retreat. He evaded the fire and made it around a corner, only to fall directly in the path of two more AMP suits. One snatched his queue, and Quaritch was raised off his feet with a ghastly yowl.
"Got one. What do we do with him?"
"Throw him into solitary confinement for now. We gotta let the higher-ups decide how they want to euthanize these things. I'll collect the other one."
Like an animal, Quaritch was dragged off by his braid until he was hurled into a new pen. He slammed against the back wall, and the transparent door zipped shut. Eventually, the recombinant pulled up onto his elbow and stared vacantly at the emptiness beyond his cell with defeated eyes. The shouts of guards waned, the sirens were shut off, and the stamps returned to a paced walk as the complex fell back into the Skypeople's control. Quaritch slid onto his hind and rested against that wall, silent and not giving over to any emotion, his face locking into a blank expression.
The warrior had failed to protect his brother—failed to protect his family—from the cold justifications of their utilitarian overlords.
Elsewhere, in the unfeeling complex, a new cage opened, and a limp recombinant was thrown inside.
Kiri and the Deja Blus gathered around the bleeding Lyle.
Brown immediately took the reins, informing the others to give him space as he went to work. He stripped off the soiled shirt, which revealed three holes in the damaged shoulder. Kiri was standing on her toes, trying to gain a view over the huddled men, when she identified the red fkxile resting over the clavicle.
"It barely missed his heart."
"He gonna live?" demanded Sean.
The medic kept silent as he removed his own shirt, folded it into a compress, then used his knee to press it hard against the wound, applying as much pressure as he could to stop the hemorrhage.
Lyle's mind revived to react to the agonizing pain. His whole body trembled, his mouth sputtered, his eyes danced across the looming heads that were blurs in his racing mind when he beheld the Na'vi girl, and something about her made his quivering pupils focus.
"Can't you do more?" Angel begged.
"All I can do is stop the bleeding," Brown insisted, but the medic knew, based on the trauma and their lack of tools, that Wainfleet's chances were bleak.
Kiri nearly jumped when she felt someone grab her, and her bioluminescence vibrated with power as she stared down at a bloody hand gently cupping her ankle. Kiri saw into the man, his eyes so intense with fear that she was the audience to the biopic flashing in them. She didn't pull away; instead, she stood and let his pleading fingers linger.
Not once did Lyle's eyes leave Kiri as all the others focused on the dying man.