Burnout cleared the wall with a quick flex of his hydraulic legs. He landed behind some trimmed azalea bushes and fell to his belly, listening intently for the telltale sounds of alarms or guard animals.
Nothing but the distant chirping of birds and the chatter of squirrels.
Burnout had seen a number of Secret Servicemen, and he knew that if this took too long, many of them would die and he might be prevented from getting to Daviar.
That was why his plan was based on speed.
"I'm masking our auras," Lethe said. "And doing my best to make us invisible in the physical as well."
Burnout didn't respond with physical speech, but Lethe seemed to understand his answer. Good.
"When I was here last, she was in her office," Lethe said. "That window, straight ahead. First floor, next to the arboretum."
For the most part, the mansion was a huge red brick structure with a shingled roof, but just ahead, across a short section of groomed lawn, Burnout noticed the elaborate greenhouse. The walls were in style with the rest of the house, but the roof was made of glass or some other clear composite. The glass was held up by the huge limbs of stone trees. Very ornate and beautiful.
And very likely, complex on the inside. A great place for a confrontation.
Burnout scanned left and caught sight of the elf woman, Daviar, through the panes of a tall window straight ahead. It was multi-paned and most likely bulletproof, but even plexan could be defeated with the right weaponry. Burnout didn't hesitate for a second; he sprang to his feet and launched himself into a full-out run, straight for the window.
In the thirty meters between the hedge and the house, Burnout accelerated to nearly sixty klicks per hour. He pulled the Predators and fired into the window as his legs hurtled the two of them toward the window. And Daviar.
Bullets ricocheted off the glass at first, then they cracked it. Burnout emptied both clips into the clear polymer, forming a nearly perfect circle of cracks. Then he launched himself head first into the house.
The glass exploded in a shower of glittering shards as Burnout burst through and rolled on carpeting, snapped himself up and lunged for a startled Nadja Daviar. She pulled away from him, faster than he expected, nearly reaching the door.
But his ravaged metal body slammed into her, and she crumpled beneath his weight. Alarms sounded throughout the mansion, relentless and annoying. Burnout pushed himself to his feet just as three guards in dark suits and sunglasses rushed through the door.
Burnout lifted the elf, Daviar, holding her in front of him with one large and gruesome hand encircling her neck. "Back off! Or she dies."
The woman straightened and regained her composure. Remarkably fast. "Please," she said. "Tell us what you want, and I'll make sure you get it."
Burnout allowed himself a smile. "Yes, you will."
"What do you want with me?"
"First, tell these suits to kindly leave the building."
Nadja nodded toward the security team.
"We can't just leave you in here with this thing," said one of the suits.
"You can and you will, Mister," Nadja said, her voice ringing with authority.
The suits retreated, and when they were gone, Burnout turned her toward him. She was the picture of unmarred flesh, so fragile in her unblemished beauty. And he was a tableau of gore-covered metal and bundled Kevlar III fibers. So very little flesh left, even his outer coating of vatgrown skin had mostly peeled away or rotted off.
Opposites, they stared at each other for a brief moment.
Then Burnout spoke. "There is only one person who can save you, and I suggest you get him here. He must come at once. And he must come alone."