Matthew Costello - Rage

“Great. Then you can get to them, get the resources? Right now?”

Just as quickly, his smile faded. He looked from Portman to Elizabeth. “We got the override. But what we don’t have is the program-and certainly not the damn range-to reach all the Arks.”

Everyone went quiet for a few moments while Raine played catch-up and began to understand why Lassard was racing to get this thing down before he left.

“But the Authority does? You need to use the Capital’s system to reach each Ark, to communicate with them?”

Lassard nodded. “Right. So now, if we can plant a hard drive with my control program in their system, we can-for a short time-operate from here using their computers.”

“At least,” Elizabeth added, “until they discover it.”

“You mean,” Raine said, “plant it tonight?”

“Your number one goal is to get Marshall out.” She took a breath. “But as you do, you have to try and plant the drive.”

“Captain Marshall,” Lassard said, “well, he knows how the Capital’s computers work. Not the most complicated system. Just need to find a main terminal. Link this”-he spun around and pulled out the drive, now altered, from the one Raine had brought back from the Dead City-“and once we get a signal, we can get the Arks rising.”

“And at the same time, our cells can get into position. No way will the Authority be able to get to all of them.”

Lassard held out the drive in his hand.

Raine took it.

“Want me to lighten your load a bit?” Portman said. “Take out one of the grenades?”

Raine gave the hard drive a heft.

“No. I think I’ll keep everything you’ve given me.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Now, it’s getting late, Dr. Cadence,” he said with a grin. “And you promised me a shot, some pills?”

She nodded, and went over to her medical case.

“All set? I’ll lead you to the buggy. It’s a Monarch. Fast. Reliable.”

Raine nodded. Loaded down with his pack of bombs and weapons, he looked at the others, studying him.

Their hope for the future, recently arrived from the past.

He felt the injection that Elizabeth had given him doing its work. Though it was now near two in the morning, he felt ready.

How long before it wore off? How long would the shot last?

“All set. Thanks. Portman, Lassard.”

Portman nodded. “Just bring our leader back.”

Raine nodded.

“I will do my best.”

Then, with a tug at his sleeve, he turned to follow Elizabeth out of the hideout, through the tunnels of Subway Town, and out to the cold, moonlit night again.

The Monarch screamed through the night, a class of vehicle made for the rough terrain and speed. Driving with no lights, the engine adequately muffled, Raine could drive to the outskirts of the Capital with just the reflected moonlight to worry about-and the car’s black matte paint minimized that.

And, possibly because this was a route used by the Authority, no bandits appeared along the way to attempt to stop him.

He felt the chemical cocktail in his veins. His fatigue had vanished, though he knew you could only push a body so far. Drugs could mask when you’d reached that tipping point. Mistakes could be made. So as he drove, he reviewed the steps in the plan again and again.

He knew one thing: he didn’t have time to critique it. No. The time for evaluation of the whole plan was past, and he certainly hadn’t been any part of that. The only thing to do now was think on each component. Think of them as separate entities, separate challenges.

Self-contained exercises.

Get to A, take care of B, and then move on to C.

And on and on, until it was completed.

All the while being careful to not fall into the trap of thinking about when it was over. When you might be safe.

So he stayed with reviewing the individual pieces of the plan, keeping them in their separate boxes, never once letting himself attempt to answer the big question…

Will I survive this night?

The night progressed, and then he saw it, straddling the great gorge ahead, leading up to a higher plateau.

A goddamned aircraft carrier.

It was like something a Greek god had dropped from the sky.

The USS Gerald R. Ford was one of the country’s last carriers before the hammer fell. It had been state-of-the-art and named for a President whose biggest accomplishment was holding the country together when the shit hit the fan.

I wonder how much confidence that inspired in the sailors aboard her?

A road led up to the carrier, to where there’d be guards and electronic defenses.

But not the way he would gain entry.

The carrier’s nuclear reactor powered much of the Capital. Whatever insanity brought it here, left its hull battered and dented, had somehow left the reactors working fine.

The Capital might have backups. Generators. Elizabeth didn’t know how many, or how long they would take to kick in. But as best they could figure it, taking the carrier’s power out would bring down their defenses… if only for a short time.

Raine stopped the Monarch.

He had smeared some grease on his face back at the Resistance hideaway. He had on a black jacket, his pack also dark.

From here he’d be on foot. He grabbed his weapons and started moving.

Climbing down, Raine stumbled in the darkness, handholds slipping as rock crumpled.

He’d always hated the mountains. Whether because he was clumsy or just couldn’t get a good read for handholds and places to wedge his feet, he always felt out of his element on a mountain patrol. Here the rock was jagged, with razorlike slivers, slowing his progress even more.

Bad place to make a mistake.

Of course, this made the idea of trying to get in and out before dawn seemingly more impossible.

And was there any guarantee they wouldn’t drag Marshall out before morning? That he’d find an empty cell, the Resistance leader dead before telling the Authority butchers anything?

He forced himself to hurry, even though that made him tear his hands on the rock. Nothing deep-just bloody scrapes-but it still made him realize that his body had taken more abuse over these few days than all the combined tours of duty from the past.

At the bottom, he looked up to see whether any guards monitored the gorge floor.

But all he saw was the incredible flat bottom of the carrier hull.

He started walking to the other side. The drawing he had been shown appeared accurate, though the light was even more scant here, with the ship blocking the moon.

In one drawing the carrier had been lodged on the other side of the gorge at about the two-thirds mark. And there was a place in the hull where they dumped garbage out, whatever leftovers and junk were created by the garrison of Enforcers inside.

And how many Enforcers?

No intel on that.

Could be five. Ten. Twenty. A hundred.

He reached the other end of the gorge floor and started the difficult climb up.

He could see the opening in the hull. Though there didn’t seem to be any nearby rocky perch that would allow him simply to slide in, there was an outcrop close to the opening. He’d have to jump.

Shit.

Yet, he still felt awake, alert. Muscles responding well. He could do this.

He looked at the rock, calculating his move. He could throw the pack in. Might create too much noise, though. Worse, he might even lose it. And he had to remember that even though the hard drive was wrapped up, it was fragile.

No. He’d have to jump with the pack. Making life a little less easier.

He made his way cautiously to the rock, as close to the hull opening as he could get. A ship the size of a city was above him, and he was about sneak into it like a wharf rat.