She leaped to one side and rolled as Chris fired, the whoosh of the rocket-propelled grenade almost lost to the thundering beat of the ‘copter’s rotors. The explosion wasn’t. The grenade hit the Tyrant square in the chest—and in a burst of incendiary light and deafening sound, it blew the monster into a million smoking pieces.
Even as tattered shreds of flesh and bone hailed down over them, Brad lowered the ‘copter back toward the ground and the four S.T.A.R.S. ran for it. The rails hadn’t touched yet as Jill dove into the open cabin, Chris and Rebecca and Barry all throwing themselves in after her.
“Go, Brad, now!” Jill screamed.
The bird lifted into the air and sped away.
TwEntY-OriE
THE CALM, FEMALE VOICE FELL ONLY ON inhuman ears.
“You have five seconds, three, two, one. System activation now.”
A circuit that ran the length and width of the estate connected.
With an earth-shaking thunderclap of motion and sound, the Spencer estate exploded. Devices went off simultaneously in the basement of the mansion, beneath the reservoir, behind a plain, uninterest-ing fireplace in the guardhouse and in the third level of the basement laboratories. Marble walls tumbled down over the disintegrating floors of the fine old mansion. Rock collapsed and concrete blew into a fine blackened dust. Massive fireballs rose up into the early morning sky and could be seen from miles away in their few brief seconds of brilliant life.
As the incredible peal of booming sound rolled across the forest and died away, the wreckage started to burn.
EPILOGUE
THE FOUR OF THEM WERE QUIET AS BRAD piloted the ‘copter back toward the city, and though he had a million questions, something about their silence didn’t invite conversation. Chris and Jill were both staring out the hatch window at the spreading fire that had been the estate, their expressions grim. Barry was slumped against the cabin wall, looking down at his hands like he’d never seen them before. The new girl was quietly moving among them, treat-ing their wounds without saying a word. Brad
kept his mouth shut, still feeling crappy about taking off earlier. He’d been through hell since then, flying around in circles and watching the fuel gauge slowly drop. It had been a total nightmare, and he had to take a piss like nobody’s business.
And then that monster—
He shuddered. Whatever it had been, he was glad it was dead. It had taken all of his nerve not to fly away the second he’d laid eyes on it—and as far as he was concerned, he deserved a little consideration for man-aging to kick the launcher out the door. He glanced back at the silent foursome, wondering if he should tell them about the weird call he’d gotten over the radio. Right after the rookie had screamed something about a heliport through the static, a clear, solid signal had come in, a male voice calmly giving him the exact coordinates. The guy had been listening in, which was weird—but the fact that he knew the location well enough to give Brad directions was downright spooky.
He frowned, trying to remember the mystery man’s name. Thad? Terrence?
Trent. That’s it, he said his name was Trent.
Brad decided that it would keep for another day.
For now, he just wanted to go home.