Daniel Suarez - Daemon

Back in the gaming pit, The Major was already gone. His voice came through on a nearby guard’s radio. “Perimeter-9! Do you copy?”

Ross watched eight armed guards piling black bags onto the floor for transport. Two were staring at him with hard eyes—stun guns ready.

“I guess I should have seen this coming.”

Philips squeezed his shoulder. “I won’t let them do this to you, Jon. I have friends in Washington, too.”

Suddenly the howl of racing engines echoed down the corridor behind the nearby ballistic doors. Everyone turned to see shadows streak along the corridor wall, then twin black motorcycles roared into view beyond the closed bulletproof glass doors. They raised robotic blade arms menacingly. The blades on the lead bike were already stained with blood.

Everyone stepped back away from the doors. The Korr guards raised their weapons, clicking off their safeties. Ross pointed toward the far glass doors. “Let’s get to the roof. Now!”

Philips stared at the machines beyond the sealed Lexan glass. The most exotic thing that the Daemon had spawned yet. “Jon, I’ve seen the word ‘Razorback’ listed in decrypted Daemon intercepts. This could—”

A spiraling green light stabbed forth from the face of the lead bike, beaming through the ballistic glass into her eyes. She screamed and slammed her palms against her face, staggering back.

Ross rushed forward and grabbed her. He pulled her behind the guards, who were also dazed by the light. “Don’t look at them! They have blinding weapons!”

Then the ballistic doors slid open with their familiar hiss—and the roar of the advancing Razorbacks filled the cavernous gaming pit. Followed by gunfire and—almost immediately—bloodcurdling screams.

Ross pulled on Philips’s arm. “Run!” The engine roar was deafening now as Ross guided Philips down the adjacent hall toward the open security control room door. There was only a smattering of gunfire now as the roar of the engines zigzagged across the room behind them. Smashing furniture. Ross risked a quick glance back behind them. Blood was spattered all over the walls and floor near the ballistic doors. A Korr guard was running toward him, firing blindly over his shoulder as a Razorback raised twin, bloody blades and screeched after him on the polished concrete, green laser spiraling. Ross turned away as a series of metallic ringing sounds, screams, and sharp thwacks accompanied the roar of engines.

Ross reached the security control room door, half dragging the blinded Philips across the polished floor.

“What’s happening, Jon? What’s happening?”

“Keep moving!” He took another glance behind them as the same Razorback accelerated down the hallway in their direction. Ross looked away just as a laser light played across his face.

He pulled Philips inside the control room, then dropped her on the floor and raced back toward the open control room door. He kicked the hollow steel door closed just as the Razorback screeched to a stop in front of it. He put a shoulder against the door and slammed it shut, locking it.

Almost instantly a series of massive dents deformed the door, accompanied by the thunderous roar of a powerful engine. The pounding continued, deforming the door surface as Ross backed away from it.

He felt Philips clutching for his leg. “Jon, I think I’m blind!”

He glanced toward another door leading out the far side of the control room. He knelt next to her and shouted over the engine noise. “Nat, we can’t stay here!”

She gripped her face, tears streaming down from between her fingers. “My eyes, Jon! They’re burning!”

He grabbed her roughly. “Nat! Nat, listen to me!”

She stopped. The Razorback’s pounding vibrated the floor.

“It could be temporary.” He looked back at the door. “If we don’t leave here now, we’re going to die!”

The sound of deforming metal reinforced his argument.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Where are we?”

He shouted over the deafening roar of the Razorback. “Security control room!”

She nodded. “We can make it to the back gate!”

He helped her to her feet, and they headed to the door on the far side of the small room.

One of the Razorback’s steel falchions pierced through the door and wrenched free as the engine roared again.

She stopped him. “The perimeter doors. We need to trip the breakers back on.”

“I’ll get it. Just go! Follow the left wall.” He pushed her through the door, then turned. Jagged holes had been torn into the sheet metal of the other door. Part of it was broken away, and he could see one of the Razorback’s gnarled, twisted blade arms through the slits. It paused for a moment, then he heard a ping sound, and the twisted blades spun free like disposable razors, clattering onto the concrete floor in the hallway outside.

Ross rushed to the breaker boxes. He stole a glance at the bank of camera monitors on the control board. One showed the Razorback in the hallway outside, reaching around to its side. A metal click-clack , and the arms rose with fresh, gleaming blades.

“Son of a bitch…” He opened a panel marked Perimeter and tripped all the breakers back on. He raced back to the far door, looking behind just as the Razorback smashed the door in. He turned away as its laser painted him, and it roared across the room. Ross slammed the new door behind them, and the pounding started almost immediately.

A Bell Jet Ranger chopper hovered inches above the cluttered roof of Building Twenty-Nine. The helicopter was electric blue with a bold yellow logo for Golden Gate Heli-Tours. The Major rose from his kneeling position and scurried toward it at a crouch. A crewmember wearing a Korr flak vest pulled him inside. The Major leaned toward the helmeted pilot, who nodded in his direction. The crewman handed The Major a closed-circuit headset, and The Major slipped it on.

The pilot’s voice came over the headphones, “What’s the situation here, Major?”

“I need to get topside. We’ve got a Daemon operative escaping into the city and a federal officer in pursuit. Where’s my kit?”

“Case on the floor, sir.”

The Major pointed at the crewmember and copilot in turn, but spoke to the pilot. “These people, off.”

Both men looked to the pilot, who simply said, “You heard the man. Take the next chopper out.”

They unbuckled themselves and with a hesitant look jumped down onto the roof.

The Major shouted. “Go!”

The pilot yanked on the stick, and the chopper ascended rapidly, making corkscrews of the columns of black smoke.

Merritt accelerated down an Oakland retail strip. Damaged vehicles littered the way. On the motorcycle, he was able to slip past the bottlenecks of wreckage and whipped past several damaged patrol cars to take the lead in the pursuit. Up ahead he could see Loki’s pack of cars, and he could see the silver BMW itself, protected by its personal guard detail. A minivan suddenly bucked up and tumbled out of the way as a horrendous crash came to Merritt’s ears.

This guy was a psycho.

A city motorcycle cop raced up on Merritt’s right. Merritt shouted over to him and held his badge up on a chain. “FBI!” He used military hand signals to indicate the target.

The motorcycle cop nodded and brought his big bike racing ahead past Merritt.

“Hey!”

Suddenly twin sedans streaked in from side streets, crushing the motorcycle cop between them with a horrific crash.

Merritt averted his head as he powered through the flying debris and smoke. He emerged on the other side to see nothing but flames behind him.