"Untie the stern line."
Nina-who felt only slightly more comfortable in a boat than in a car-searched around until finding and letting loose one of the thick cords keeping the vessel attached to the dock. The rope had barely released when Gordon thrust the throttle. The twin Mercruiser engines propelled the thirty-foot Sleekcraft away from the marina on the west side of Key Biscayne.
Gordon wore his straw hat, Nina had ditched the previous night's sun dress in favor of more comfortable garb: camo BDUs and a black tank top. Not quite right for a hot South Florida afternoon, but about as casual as Nina would get again anytime soon. A baseball cap provided some shade and layers of protective lotion covered every square inch of her body, a reaction to the patch of burning red on her neck from the day before.
In any case, Gordon steered his low-profile, high-performance boat to the south. Nina walked gingerly toward the front trying to find her sense of balance as the boat bounced. She stumbled, practically falling into the forward V-berth.
"Easy does it," Gordon suggested. "You gotta get your sea legs."
Nina righted herself into the passenger seat. The salt water spray from the bobbing bow fell across her face in a loose veil. She found it slightly refreshing.
In fact, slowly-as they passed the southern tip of Key Biscayne and turned east into the Atlantic proper-she began to appreciate the cooling blast of wind and water vapor.
For the first half an hour, she spied other sea goers ranging from long sail boats to a freighter headed north, a military patrol ship watching the waterways and a pair of dueling cigarette boats engaged in a test of speed. However, Nina soon saw herself and Gordon as the only human beings within miles.
Knox closely kept watch over the gauges and readings on the dash, occasionally consulting the folded slip of paper Ernie provided last night.
Still, the further they went the more Nina grew apprehensive. Part of that came from the real worry of sea monsters, but most from her anxiety over the investigation. Clandestine meetings, hacked computer systems, and conspiracy theories did not sit well in her gut. Nina Forest wore a soldier's uniform, not a spy's cloak. While she had an eye for tactics and an instinct for fighting, she did not trust her ability to sift through deception. Apparently Nina's concerns surfaced in her expression. Gordon asked, "What's wrong?" She lied, "Nothing." "You're wondering why Ashley chose you. Are you the right person for the job?" She sighed. "So you're a mind reader now? Is that it?"
"I wondered the same thing," he rubbed salt in the wound. "You have a reputation as a tremendous soldier. But you'd think Ashley would turn to Jon Brewer or Shep to dig this up. Whatever the reason, it's not because of your talents, but because Ashley has faith in your ability to get the job done. She sent you to me so that you'd have help with the spooking around. She knew I have the contacts."
Nina confessed, "She told me she knew everything that happened during that year I can't remember. If I do this, she'll tell me."
"Ah, so there is a big secret or two. Is that it? I suppose she has faith, then, in your motivation. The good news is I don't think our conspirators are going to be too hard to find. A few more pieces of the puzzle and we…" Gordon's voice trailed as he checked the instruments on the dash, thought, and slowed the Sleekcraft. "A few more pieces of the puzzle and I think everything is going to come into view."
The high-powered boat stopped and drifted on calm seas. The bow slowed its bobbing; their wake faded.
"This is it," Gordon checked his wristwatch and added, "Right on time, too."
Nina grabbed a pair of binoculars from the starboard settee and raised them to her eyes. She revolved in a complete circle, scanning the horizon in all directions for any sign of activity.
"There's nothing out there."
Gordon glanced at his watch once more and suggested she, "Look again."
A vibration shook the Sleekcraft. Fifty yards off the port bow the water bubbled and foamed. A groaning klaxon echoed. A spout of water shot like a geyser, followed by a mammoth beast jumping from the sea like a killer whale performing at Sea World.
Black and gray, two eye-like windows at the front, sixty feet long with a bow shaped like a hammerhead shark that hovered in the air for a long second then slapped the water's surface with a heavy splash. The spray fell across Gordon and Nina like a sheet of rain.
The submarine sat on the surface where there had been nothing seconds before. Its sleek body resembled an alligator floating with its spine poking above the surface and its eyes scanning for prey. It made Nina think of a smaller version of Captain Nemo's Nautilus from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea; a book her father had read to her nearly thirty years ago.
Gordon said, "Barracuda fast attack sub. First one went into service two years ago."
Nina knew of the vessels and rattled off, "Crew of twelve, used primarily for coastal patrol, designed specifically to combat underwater hostiles. Oh, and it runs on something called a magnetohydrodynamic drive that makes it quiet and fast. The military has about a dozen."
Knox added, "And Intelligence has a couple, too."
He turned on the twin Mercruisers again and guided the boat closer to the new arrival. As they closed the distance, a pair of hatches on the smooth skin of the man-made beast popped open. Four men in black wet suits stood on the deck. Gordon maneuvered the Sleekcraft alongside and threw the stern line to one of the seamen who held it secure to allow boarding. Gordon told Nina, "You go ahead. I'll wait here." "Huh? These are your friends, aren't they?" "It's your mission, Captain. I'm just here to help. Are you afraid of going in there alone?" Nina narrowed her eyes and then swung her leg onto the sub, refusing a helping hand from one of the crewmen in the process. Gordon called, "Ask 'T' where they were!" She glanced back at him before eyeing the dark portal leading below. Nina crouched and lowered herself inside.
Two decks comprised the small sub. Nina did not know about the lower level but the upper one felt cramped and humid. It was, in essence, a long tube. She saw two wheelmen sitting at helms in the two 'eyes' that were actually darkly tinted windows. Consoles and monitors lined the walls manned by crewmen who leered as she entered their world.
A small, raised platform with a chair sat in the center of the cramped chamber. A white man in a dirty shirt with a Captain's hat occupied it, chewing on a toothpick. When she took a step in his direction he pointed her toward the rear of the deck and a heavy door amid pipes and wires and valves and storage compartments. Nina knocked. The crew laughed. Nina did not wait, she turned the knob and entered.
The room probably served as the Captain's quarters but someone else had usurped that privilege from the boat's master. He sat behind a desk with a big grin revealing one gold tooth. He wore his hair in long dreadlocks and dressed in a blue, short-sleeve shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal a scar across his black chest. A shoulder holster displayed an ivory-handled revolver.
Papers, curled maps, and a laptop computer cluttered the desktop. Closed metal cabinets and a chart table occupied the rest of the space but enough room remained for a metal seat in front of the desk.
Nina still felt the leers of the men on her back. Without looking, she reached and closed the door. The man at the desk found that very funny. He laughed and spoke with a Jamaican accident, "Hello! Gordon did not come himself?"
"He's outside…waiting."
"That is too bad. You tell Gordon that 'T' sends his best. You tell him that he still owes me fifty continentals and I will not forget, no matter how he tries to avoid me. Understand?"
"I will," Nina said trying hard to hide the feeling of being trapped in a floating tomb.
"This is what you came for, I think."
The man with the gold tooth-'T'-opened the lap top. The black screen of the hibernating computer came to life and showed line after line of numbers.
"Tell Gordon that his suspicions are correct. These are back up files from two tracking stations in New Jersey, understand? Something did trip the alarms way up there but no one seems to know nothing. Well, except for you and I now, I think."
She peered at the data tables, easily translating date and times while assuming the rest to be coordinates.
"I'll tell you what it says so that you can get off this little boat of mine before the men start going crazy. They have been at sea for a month so it would be best if we speed this along, understand? One something trips the wire in New Jersey not long before the assassination. Then not long after, another something trips the wire again on the way out."
Nina said, "But this doesn't tell me what that something was. I'm just saying, this is all a bunch of numbers. Nothing concrete."
"Oh, now I would not be saying that, I think. It tells you that there was an unidentified flying object that slipped its way into our air space and then out again, all on a heading that would have taken it first right toward D.C., and second right away from D.C., if you start drawing lines on charts and whatever. But what it really tells, I think, is that someone who was operating the switch for all this high tech mumbo jumbo decided not to report these numbers."
Nina wondered, again, why Ashley entrusted her with this job.
'T' popped open the laptop drive, slipped the disc in a jewel case, and handed it to Nina.
"And there you are. Now as much as I enjoy a visit from such a lovely woman, I think you should be leaving now. I have a trip to make to Trinidad with a hold full of weapons for the resistance. Quite a problem for the Hivvans, I think."
She stood but paused, remembering, "Gordon wanted me to ask where you were."
The man with the dreadlocks smiled again and stooped to grab something. He handed an unlabeled bottle of red liquid to Nina who accepted the unknown substance with caution.
"Wine from the Rhone Valley. Tell him that our friends at Camelot are waiting, but with all that has happened here in the last month I think they may be waiting a long while for us."
She studied the bottle for a moment then hardened her face, opened the door, and marched past the leers of the sailors again, climbing from the humid, shadowy confines of the submarine's interior to the warm, sunny deck.
Nina jumped into the Sleekcraft where Gordon Knox waited.
"I think your friend gave us some good stuff, but I'm not the expert. He says it's evidence of a second plane or ship of some kind entering our air space then leaving again."
Gordon powered on the engines and moved them away. Nina heard that klaxon again and the fast attack sub slipped below the waters.
"Good, that's what we needed," Knox increased speed to hurry for shore. "But there's a lot more work to do."
"Yeah, like your pal Ernie is going to have to come forward and tell us who his friend is. Maybe then we can figure out exactly what happened. I mean, this data doesn't change much about what we know, it only makes things more complicated."
"Ah, but it does tell us that there's a cover up going on," Knox pointed out as the Sleekcraft gained more speed. The nose bobbed so fast that Nina had to hold on tight. "That means there's more here than meets the eye." "So now what?" "So I think you're right. We're going to see Ernie again." — Much to Nina's dismay, traffic nearly cluttered all five of the northbound lanes on Interstate 95. Dump trucks, pickups, commercial vans and 18-wheelers hauled citrus, seafood, fuel, and other goods between the docks, warehouses, and train stations.
Scooters were a popular choice for couriers and individuals commuting to the fishing wharf or industrial centers. Most everyone moved along at a comfortable seventy miles per hour, a few slower and a few faster with lumps of like-minded drivers attached together to form herds of a sort. Gordon, much to her surprise, kept his foot light on the accelerator as they cruised with the flow on their way for Ernie's home in Miami Shores, a suburb north of downtown.
She glanced out the window, noting the Miami skyline. Several signs of battles fought dotted that cityscape, but not nearly the type of wounds other metropolises showed. She wondered if the early years of Armageddon would have been different had other people joined together with the same tenacity as the people in Dade County. She recalled her own home-Philadelphia-and how chaos, conflicting orders, and panic turned neighborhoods into isolated islands, law enforcement into small groups, and the chain of command into a joke.
Gordon grabbed her attention saying, "We get to Ernie's, he gives us the name of his contact, and then we have someone to corroborate this data." "So what? What does this mystery ship have to do with the assassination? I'm just saying, it could be a coincidence." "Someone is covering it up," he reminded. "That means it's something more." "Will he help us? Is he even home?"
"He'll help us. He owes me big time. If he's not home…if he's not home…" Gordon peered first in his rearview mirror, then a side mirror before finishing, "…then we wait."
She asked, "Problem?"
"I don't know, but I think I just saw something silver flying around back there."
He did not have to say 'Witiko' for her to understand but the overpasses of the Dolphin Expressway disrupted their view as they drove through the sprawling arms of a concrete cloverleaf.
With their attention distracted to the sky, neither Gordon nor Nina noticed the black Suburban loitering on the grassy median alongside the Interstate. Chief Hobbs sat behind the wheel with sweat gleaming on his forehead; Ray Roos occupied the passenger's seat watching traffic through dark sunglasses.
The Witiko Skytrooper Gordon and Nina failed to spot-the one with the portable rocket launcher-landed on the roof of an old office building to the east of the thoroughfare, joining another of his breed. The first alien nodded his head toward the SUV. Roos responded by pointing his finger at the aliens
The Skytroop with the rocket launcher reacted to the gesture. As he watched the target car-the black BMW 540i-drive northbound, the alien opened a small panel on a heavy gauntlet and sent a signal.
It began.
They came from the shade alongside the ramp connecting 395 west to I-95 northbound, following the curve of the on-ramp toward the interstate. An old, half-drunk hitchhiker wearing a tweed sport jacket over a Hawks jersey stood at the end of the on-ramp with a cardboard sign reading 'Atlanta or Bust'. The first blur went by him so fast that his sign flew from his hands; the second blur knocked him off his feet.
The Suburban watched the attackers race forward and then the SUV joined the pursuit from a safe distance. The Witiko Skytroopers rocketed away from their perch…
…Fast. Faster. The urge to find and destroy so complete, so compelling…an intense addiction that muffled the hatred for those who had enslaved them.
Like guided missiles, they burst onto the crowded freeway ignoring anything they had not been programmed to kill. A small passenger car-an obstacle-powered by a makeshift steam engine got knocked spinning across three lanes of traffic and over the concrete barrier into the southbound lanes where it sheered the side of a commercial van. That van careened over the west guard rail, disappearing toward Northwest 20 ^ th street below.
A man dressed in a suit and tie wearing a white helmet road an electric scooter with his briefcase tied to a rear luggage rack. One of the living guided missiles rammed his ride, propelling the man off the seat into the air while sending the scooter bouncing away where it smashed the windshield of a speeding Toyota that, in turn, skidded and rolled end over end…
…Gordon glanced in his mirror and saw a sedan rise up as if shoved from behind and nearly fly toward his car. He shifted the manual transmission down a gear and slammed the accelerator, speeding from seventy to eight-five in a heartbeat. The tumbling car fell onto and crushed its roof in a veil of sparks. A chain-reaction ensued, sending more vehicles sideways, skidding, and crashing into one another.
Nina panicked at the sudden jolt of speed.
"What? What is it?"
"We've got a problem," he calmly relayed as he steered the car from the left-most lane to the center of the five, between two big trucks, then to the left again. "Get your rifle and open the sunroof. You're going to have to keep them off us."
Even though her fear of the moving, weaving, and speeding car caused a shake in her hands, she did as instructed, pulling her M-4 from the rear seat while opening the sunroof with the push of a button.
Gordon swerved right again to avoid a flatbed tractor trailer hauling a piece of construction equipment. As he did, Nina saw his face change. His eyes, in particular. They grew sharper, but she also saw a grin poking at the sides of his mouth under that bushy mustache.
"Hey," he said without taking his eyes from the road. "Find something good on the radio, will you? This shit goes great to music."
She ignored his request, offering only a grunt of disapproval as she hauled the upper half of her body through the open sunroof with her assault rifle ready to fire.
Nina's ponytail got caught in the wind of the rushing automobile and fluttered in front of her face as she looked rearward. Traffic in grouped bundles seemed to fall away from either side of the car as the BMW raced at an insane speed.
Their adversaries appeared, running along the freeway on four legs faster than most cars ran on four wheels. They could have been earthly lions-perhaps slightly larger-save for the armor plating covering their heads in a flesh akin to iron.
She could not believe an animal could run so fast. She watched as one side-swiped a compact car, flipping it sideways.
Nina fired first at the beast to her right as it came close enough to nearly nose the BMW. Her bullets hit the monster square in the forehead. The rounds bounced away, unable to penetrate its natural shield. However, the beast scrunched its head and neck to absorb the impact, causing its pace to slow. That one fell behind, at least for the moment.
She turned her gun on the second and let fly several volleys, only vaguely aware of the cars passing in the background. Her first shots ricocheted off the highway pavement, possibly into bumpers and windshields, she did not know.
The BMW banked hard to the left. Nina saw why as they zoomed by a slow-moving cement truck. That bigger vehicle caused the closest attacker to hurriedly adjust its path, darting across two lanes to the far side.
Nina turned her barrel to the first Speed-Lion as it caught up again and fired, hitting it once more on its front end. Its eyes-featureless red bulbs-glowed hotter in what had to be frustration or anger. Yet still, while the bullets did not hurt the beast the impact of the shots caused it to decelerate. It faded a good fifty yards back, taking out its frustration on a motorcyclist that it sent-bike and all-over the bank and off the Interstate.
Nina again changed her focus just in time to ward off the second attacker as it cut across the lanes and tried to side swipe the BMW. One of her bullets hit the flank of the creature where a splash of crimson liquid squirted forth, but either the damage did not hurt the thing or the impulse to pursue and kill overrode any pain. Nonetheless, its swipe at the BWM's side was temporarily chased off.
When Nina pulled the trigger again, she heard a depressing 'click' from an empty magazine. Standing there in the roaring wind and taking pot shots at beasts that ran like race cars had caused her mind to lose track of munitions. However, Interstate 95 entered another cloverleaf and a mass of additional vehicles joined the northbound parade. The new traffic forced the Speed-Lions to adjust their course, buying her a few seconds respite
Nina descended into the cabin of the car and secured a fresh clip. Gordon's hands gripped the steering wheel tight but his expression remained almost child-like in its fascination. She figured him to be 'high' on the adrenaline of the situation, having seen similar looks in the eyes of her men during firefights.
Amidst the roaring engine, the shifts from third to fourth gear and down again, and the squeal-inducing lane changes, Gordon found time to speak.
"Well, looks like we know how high up this goes."
Nina spoke in a melodramatic voice, "You mean, like all the way up to Evan?"
"Oh now honey, if you're just figuring out that Evan is involved, you're way behind. The question has never been if Evan is involved," he rocked the car to the left to pass a station wagon full of day laborers. "The question has been, who's in it with him? I think it's safe to say that Dante Jones, the Witiko, and Internal Security are up to their eyeballs."
"Internal Security?" Nina pushed a fresh magazine into her rifle.
"Oh c'mon. Here we are in the largest city in The Empire on the busiest road around in broad daylight. Where are the choppers? Where are the patrols? Where is Internal Sec-"
The steering wheel spun in Gordon's hands as the entire vehicle was shoved to the right by one of the Speed-Lions nudging the rear quarter panel as if to say 'don't forget about us.' Nina shouted anxiously while Gordon struggled to regain control. They skidded across four lanes of traffic heading hard toward a concrete retaining wall.
He pointed the wheel in the direction of the slide and lifted his foot from the accelerator. At the same time Nina watched the wall grow bigger… harder, the smell of frying rubber shot in through the air vents, the out-of-control sedan cut off two half-ton trucks that blared air horns then slammed into one-another Gordon caught the slide, the rear-drive car fishtailed as he pointed north again and hammered the gas with a fury, throwing Nina back into the passenger's seat.
Nothing more needed to be said. As the car straightened…as the scenery around the freeway again turned into one big blurred tapestry…Nina climbed her way to a stand with her top half sticking out the sunroof and her gun sights searching for targets. The car crossed lanes again-this time in a controlled fashion-and took station in the center of the highway as the road cleared of traffic for a stretch.
Nina spotted the creature that had hit them, ten yards behind. She unloaded burst after three-round burst at the beast. It seemed to shrug its shoulders so as to increase the protection of its armored mane. Then it hopped straight up and over a slower-moving gold and silver Rolls Royce. The shots Nina fired at the Speed-Lion hit, instead, the windshield and front hood of the luxury car. A red splash from the driver's seat exploded onto the inside of the Royce's shattered glass and the vehicle spun round and round like a top, seeming to fall away from her as the chase continued forward at break neck speed.
The four-legged hunter landed on its feet in full stride. Nina did not have time to weep for the innocent killed by the crossfire. She fired again at the same enemy as her ride turned hard to the right, following the bend in the road as they traversed through another cluttered combination of on and off ramps. She hit the Speed-Lion in the face but, once more, only managed to annoy it. However, it did retreat with a jump across the center concrete barrier into the oncoming southbound lanes as if searching for shelter from the pestering bullets.
Meanwhile, Gordon realized they had long since passed the exit for Miami Shores, but that did not matter. There would be no going to Ernie's house. He needed no more evidence than the Witiko Skytroops he spied shadowing them and the creatures pursuing that Ernie had been compromised. Suddenly Miami burned too hot even for him.
Nonetheless, before he could do anything about that, he had to get them out of their current situation. No small task but- — he swerved into the far right lane to bypass a pair of motor coaches then maneuvered the crisp-handling sedan to the center of the road again.
No small task but he figured he could turn this problem into an opportunity; the type of thing he always did either for Trevor Stone or for his masters in the old world. The little piece of insurance he took from Omar before saying goodbye to Pennsylvania would give him-if it worked-the one ace he needed.
In the driver's side mirror he saw one of the creatures move off to the southbound lanes. Nina's shots did not damage the monsters but the creatures did not enjoy being shot, either.
Gordon glanced to the passenger's side exterior mirror.
Oh shit.
The second attacker had avoided Nina's watch and neared for the kill. It raced alongside the sedan bounding forward with its iron-ish head and ruby eyes bobbing up and down like a galloping race horse. Gordon thought fast. He turned a problem into an opportunity.
Knox jogged the wheel to the right as if threatening the beast with a collision. This encouraged the Speed-Lion to instinctively move…just enough.
The monster that could run as fast as a Ferrari slammed into the rear end of an 18-wheeler full of foodstuffs. The trailer crumpled and the cab jackknifed. As the mess faded quickly from view, Gordon saw the truck topple over but no sign of that attacker.
One down.
Nina admired Knox's handiwork from her view in the sunroof. On the other side of the highway, the remaining Speed-Lion sped along pre-occupied with dodging oncoming traffic and considering a new avenue of attack.
Above the honk of horns, the gush of wind, and the constant race-car growl of the BMW's engine, Nina heard a noise. A hiss, maybe.
She glanced around until finding the source of the new sound. It came from an object several hundred feet above and behind. There against the backdrop of a beautiful blue sky she spied a light. No, not a light, a flash. A silvery flash reflecting the south Florida sun.
The Witiko Skytroop's jetpack roared at full throttle to keep pace with the pursuit…then he stopped and hovered in mid-air and took aim with his one-shot rocket launcher. The alien's hovering body wobbled as the projectile fired. A plume of gray smoke spat from the orange flames at the tail of the missile as it swept down, locked on the speeding car.
Nina's eyes widened and her pulse quickened but she could offer no defense against the descending rocket. Like all such Witiko weapons, this one moved relatively slow, lumbering through the air. But she also knew it to be very precise. Despite the weave and bobs of the car between traffic, the guidance system in the nose of the thing remained focused on its target while the igniting liquid fuel caused it to dive bomb on perfect course for her destruction.
Her mouth hung open.
This is it.
She heard the rumble of the rocket's flames, she saw the red-tipped nose where a deadly charge waited to finish its mission, she could nearly read the alien symbols on the outer casing.
The car drove faster and faster but the missile lunged for the kill and — darkness shrouded Nina and the car. She heard the clap of an explosion and felt a shake from the shockwave. Then a burst of light again as the day's brilliant sunshine enveloped them once more.
Nina saw a cloud of smoke and a sheath of concrete debris billow skywards from the pavement of the Ives Dairy Road overpass that crossed atop the Interstate at exactly the right moment. The missile-interrupted in its journey by luck-detonated there a few yards above its intended target. Instead of destroying the fleeing car it destroyed concrete.
As the life-saving overpass faded fast behind the speeding BMW, Nina stood in the open sunroof breathing out gasps of air. Her heart thudded fast and those gasps turned to a laugh of relief-not humor-as she understood she still lived for no reason other than sheer chance.
Her moment of rejoice was chased away by the zing of bullets mere inches from her nose. She turned to her right and saw a second Witiko flying parallel to her over lanes of southbound traffic some twenty yards away with his Gatling-gun whirring.
She huffed a determined grunt, raised the M-4 to her marksman's eye, and squeezed the trigger. The first round of shots went wide, but the second hit the alien's jet pack. His controlled flight turned into something akin to a pin-poked balloon. His body barrel rolled over and over while streams of hissing vapor escaped from a ruptured line in his rockets.
Gong.
The out-of-control Witiko slammed into the backside of an exit sign straddling the southbound lanes. His broken body stuck there for a second, then dropped like a dead sack to the lanes below where it crunched beneath the wheels of a garbage truck.
Over there in that same area, the pursuing Speed-Lion raced along with its eyes on the BMW but still hesitating to attack.
Nina felt a tug on her BDU pants. She lowered into the cockpit of the car.
Gordon told her, "Get buckled up. I want to get off this highway. I want to find somewhere quiet and isolated, like a dead end or something."
"Oh," she sarcastically remarked. "You mean like a trap?"
"Yeah," his eyes gleamed at the suggestion. "A trap. Now hold on!"
Gordon swung the car onto an exit ramp that descended east off the Interstate. The Speed-Lion saw the move and cut across both the southbound and the northbound lanes of 95 in pursuit. Instead of following on the concrete ramp, it leapt the guardrail and descended a grassy embankment a few dozen yards behind the fleeing automobile.
Gordon nearly lost control as he moved them off the ramp onto a neighborhood street, racing by one of the new "In and Out" convenience stores on the corner where the off-ramp met the avenue. That store sat directly in the path of the fast-moving beast.
Instead of slowing…instead of going around…the Speed-Lion crashed through the rear wall of the market and disappeared from view as the black sedan accelerated to escape. The front plate glass windows with neon beer signs and poster board advertisements for homemade cigarettes exploded outward as a monster-sized bullet fired through the entire store. The Speed-Lion never missed a step, erupting from the tunnel it had punched through the market and falling in
behind the BMW.
Gordon hammered the gearshift down and accelerated at full power as the car and the creature that chased it caught up with a herd of migrating automobiles across two lanes heading east and two more heading west. Instead of fast-moving Interstate travelers the chase found itself in the midst of crawling neighborhood drivers moving between sidewalks filled with pedestrians, family shops, and street vendors. A red light held the lanes at a standstill as the action raced toward an intersection.
Nina closed her eyes as Gordon side-swiped a rusting SUV waiting for the green and sped through the stoplight.
The Speed-Lion leapt in the bed of a waiting pick up then soared across the intersection through the air, landing at a fast gallop.
Far behind the chase near the blasted-through remains of the "In and Out" convenience store, the black Suburban that had observed the battle on the Interstate from afar swerved off the ramp and onto the side street with Hobbs driving and Roos impatiently tapping his knee. The remaining Witiko-the one that had fired the unlucky rocket and who controlled the slaver device on his wrist-flew above the Suburban's roof.
In the meantime, the Speed-Lion tried to close for the kill but Gordon expertly swerved through the gridlock using the mess to block the enemy's approach. Frustrated, the creature bound over a hatchback, crushing its roof, then tried running on the sidewalk to avoid traffic where it tossed pedestrians aside.
"Here," Gordon whispered more to himself than Nina, "this will do."
He slammed the brakes, released, and steered hard to the left, skidding sideways as they left behind the markets and vendors of the main drag and sped between neglected warehouses and a defunct U-Haul dealership. The enemy followed first at a distance but then closer as the lack of obstacles allowed it to reach top speed.
The black SUV and flying Witiko Skytrooper also fell in behind.
Gordon kept the gas pedal to the floor, topping eighty miles per hour on a street designed for less than half that in the old world. Rusted cars, bent street signs, and trash-filled parking lots blurred in the side windows.
"Gordon," Nina noted their path and warned. "Dead end."
Ahead they saw the silhouette of a raised highway, no doubt I-95 but no on-ramp invited a merge; no exit presented itself. Instead, a concrete barrier wall separating the quiet street from the confines beneath the Interstate offered a sudden stop as the only option while the right side of the road dropped off steeply into a drainage ditch and the left side was dominated by a featureless, cinderblock exterior belonging to a building whose purpose had died with Armageddon.
Gordon laughed under his breath. Behind them the Speed-Lion slowed as it sensed its quarry to be trapped.
"Gordon!"
His hands worked fast as he depressed the clutch, turned the steering wheel, and pulled the emergency brake. The BMW 540i's ass-end swung around while its front felt glued in place. Nina's head banged hard off the passenger's side window to the point that she saw stars. The tires erupted in torched rubber.
Everything stopped.
The car ended facing precisely the way it had come. The engine idled. The monster that followed slowed to a trot then held its position a dozen yards in front of its prey, blocking escape and pacing side to side., as if something had tugged on its leash.
"Just as I thought," Knox said as he spied the approaching Suburban.
"W-what?" Nina held a hand to the bump on her head.
Gordon reached across her lap to the glove compartment. There he found a small sack holding a shiny metal sphere about the size of a baseball and sporting a red button.
Knox told Nina, "Get out with your hands up, but leave your door open."
"Huh?"
"Just do it. You'll know when it's time to jump back in."
Gordon exited with his hands held high, although one of those hands palmed the device he had taken from Omar Nehru before abandoning Pennsylvania.
The Suburban stopped alongside the pacing Speed-Lion. A chubby policeman stepped from behind the wheel with a revolver pointed in their direction. The Witiko Skytroop with the slaver device descended and hovered a few feet above the pavement with his jet pack hissing and his legs bent as if auditioning for the part of Peter Pan in a stage play.
Gordon waited for the other door to open. When he saw who got out, he nodded his head in a manner that suggested admiration for how well they had all been deceived.
"Now looky here," Ray Roos said. "If it ain't Gordon Knox holed up in a corner."
"Ray Roos," Knox volleyed. "I always figured Evan had a friend working at the estate. Jones couldn't do it by himself. Got to admit, never guessed it was you."
"Oh, now, Mr. Knox, we all do what we have to do."
"Like what Jones was doing at I.S. Central in D.C., the day Trevor was killed?"
Roos smiled, "Now, c'mon Gordon, you don't think I'm going to stand here and read you the whole laundry list, do you? Things only work like that in James Bond movies."
"Of course not," Gordon admitted. "But you've already given me what I needed to know for now. I'm sure it will all come clear in a few days."
"Well, now, see that's the problem, Gordon. I let you sneak away up in PA 'cause I had to do things the boss' way. But now, well, I'm just going to have to get this over with. But which would you prefer: a couple of bullets or this thing over here to rip you up?"
The pacing Speed-Lion's eyes focused not only on Gordon and Nina, but also on the men standing to its side. Gordon could nearly feel the rage the beast felt for those who had entrapped it; enslaved it. Nonetheless it would follow the command from the Witiko to kill. Unless, of course, that command failed to transmit. "Hey Ray, do you know how that slaver-device thing the Witiko has works?" Roos-unimpressed-shook his head, "No." Gordon smiled. "Omar figured it out."
Gordon hit the button on the silver ball. An unheard, unseen blast of radio waves cut the control between the Witiko's wrist and the implant in the monster's skull. It reacted immediately to its freedom and grabbed the nearest meal-the chubby policeman-in its gaping jaws. Hobbs' revolver discharged harmlessly in the air.
Knox and Nina reacted nearly as fast. He got behind the wheel and she grabbed her rifle from the car.
The Witiko Skytroop swept a shocked Ray Roos up in his arms and ignited his jetpack to full power, rocketing them away from the ambush-gone-bad, dodging shots from Nina's assault rifle as they disappeared over the nearest building.
"Get in!"
She followed Gordon's orders, closed the passenger side door, and the BMW drove off, leaving the hungry Speed-Lion with its meal and Gordon and Nina with a better understanding of their enemies.