The Impossible Future: Complete set Frank Kennedy (freenovel24 .TXT) 📖

“How much time will we have?”

“Not much,” Hans conceded. “Response time will be damn near immediate. This is a Sanctum, after all. It means we sprint, and we don’t look back for any reason.”

“How far will we have to run?”

“Hundred feet. Minimum. But there are multiple factors. The terminal is L-shaped, and there are two autoloaders between it and the landing zone. Also, the zone is large enough for two Scrams or C Class commercial uplifts. As a result, the Sanctum-owned Scram is usually stationed here. So, we might have to run a little farther.”

Michael grew ill. “And this is easier than going down the lifts and shooting our way out?”

“We’ll only be exposed for a few seconds. Our odds are dubious in either case, but I believe this gives us the best chance to fight on.”

Michael pivoted to Maya. “You ready for this?”

“Another stop on a long road, Michael. I do have an idea, though. Why don’t you boys take flank this time?”

Michael remembered her savagery at Entilles Club; yes, this was a woman who anyone should want at point. Hans did not object.

They took position, weapons chest-high, feet planted, knees bent as though waiting for the starter’s pistol. Hans signaled.

“Oliver’s coming in. Now.”

The lift opened.

The path seemed clear enough. A straight shot through the checkpoint, slight adjustment around the autoloaders, and a sprint for the twin landing lights of the uplift now visible. If they weren’t flanked, if no one came in from above and started firing, if no one shot a rocket or energy slew at them, hope might prevail.

Or so Michael thought as he and his companions made a mad dash. As they bolted through the checkpoint, green flashers and shrill klaxons filled the terminal. This was expected. What they did not foresee was that their motion would not trigger the exit doors. They remained stubbornly unpixellated.

“What do we …?” Michael started to ask the question before he realized the obvious answer, provided by Maya.

She fired her blast rifle into the glass, which cracked but did not relent despite the barrage of flash pegs. Michael had a theory and opened up his Ingmar pulse gun on the doors, accelerating their decimation. For an instant, as the cracks extended and deepened, they turned orange-yellow, as if on fire. And then, collapse.

The delay felt like forever to Michael, though likely no more than five seconds passed. But he knew how deadly this might be.

Though Hans was right about a Scram occupying one half of the landing zone, the inner pad closest to the terminal was empty – until their rescuer came down before them, hovering. The port door pixelated, and an armed Solomon hurried them onboard.

They leaped to safety then followed orders to grab hold of the ceiling hooks. The uplift pulled out. Ten feet. Twenty feet. Thirty.

Was this possible? Michael dared to believe. Yet he knew it was too easy.

That’s when he realized their luck ran out. Perhaps it was the delay at the doors. Perhaps this maneuver was as stupid as trying to shoot their way out at ground level against superior forces.

It was as if all DayWatch rose to meet them simultaneously. F class uplifts built for three occupants – highly adaptable in a city environment – danced, bobbed, and weaved to form a cordon. The vehicles, half the size of Michael’s, featured the DayWatch crest and a glowing yellow orb above the flight deck. Their spotlights illuminated the Sanctum rooftop and splashed inside the Solomon uplift’s hold, the disparate beams telling Michael they were surrounded.

“Go, Oliver,” Hans said. “Up, up, let’s move …”

“Negative,” Oliver said. “We move, and we’re dead.”

Michael heard an engine of a different sound above them. He grabbed the hooks and moved to the open portal. He looked skyward. A Scram blocked their vertical escape, its Carbedyne nacelles casting a blue pall over the moment.

“Who are they?” Michael yelled over the cacophony, pointing north. “Mercs? Sanctum? More assassins?”

“Don’t know,” Oliver said. “But we’re still here, and that’s something. Means they don’t have an energy slew. Otherwise, they could have incinerated us by now.”

“What are they waiting for? They expect us to sit down and surrender? That ain’t happening.”

“We may have no choice,” Hans said. “We don’t know their capability. If it was just DayWatch, I’d say we take a chance but …”

Michael wasn’t having it. “I say we go anyhow. Fight our way out. We unload on DayWatch,” he said, pointing to the visible gauntlet. “We knock out three of those baby-size lifts, and we can slip through. They’re gonna kill us if we surrender, so what the fuck we gotta lose? Am I right, people?”

“May be,” Hans answered. “But I don’t like this. Why aren’t they ordering us back to the roof?”

Michael got a good look at the scene below. “Maybe waiting for that lot to show up.”

Eight figures emerged from the rooftop terminal. Dark armor, helmets fully extended, faces hidden. So, Hans had been right about attempting a downward escape plan. Were the assassins already in the building when the trio agreed to try the roof?

“Same assholes that followed us from the mountains. These guys won’t even line us up before they burn us full of laser holes. Oliver, dude, you gotta fly. If we don’t fight, it’s all been for nothing.”

They stood on the edge of agreement. He saw their resignation, though they understood the odds. The moment they turned on DayWatch, the assassins would unload from below. If they took out a nacelle, this bucket was going down.

“Nothing?” Maya sported her disarming grin at a moment Michael least expected. “I don’t much care for the sound of that.” She advanced across the hold and joined Michael inside the open port. “Who dies first?”

“Not us.”