David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

“No chance to shut him up,” Nina said, sitting upright. “They know we’re here, but with any luck, they think we’ve got a whole army with us to go along with the air support. We’ve still got some element of surprise and distraction. Time to use it.”

The Jeep picked up speed as the building loomed in their view. Two double doors were no match for the head on greeting they provided at eighty miles an hour. The Jeep smashed through a metal railing and launched down into the warehouse floor. It slid and then Nina braked hard and spun it in a one-eighty, slamming Caleb’s side into two more astonished guards and pinning them against a rack of steel replacement girders.

One, still alive, managed to raise his MP5 and before Nina could recover and reach for her Beretta, he fired.

But Caleb was directly in his path. He instinctively held out the Spear tip and closed his eyes. Heard the gunshots, then what sounded like his own cut-off scream, but felt no pain.

“Holy crap,” came Nina’s voice. Caleb blinked and opened his eyes, registering the fate of the shooter: the MP5 had exploded as it fired, sending shrapnel backwards; his face was blackened and bloody, and the ruined gun fell from his limp fingers.

“I guess no instruction manual needed,” Nina commented as she unhooked her belt and withdrew her Beretta. “Now let’s move. Out my side, on three.”

Caleb looked past her, seeing several dark-clad forms running from shelter and hiding behind crates and piles of equipment.

She counted to three, kicked open the door and went out low, rolling, then shooting at two guards who came charging out of cover. By the time Caleb was out, she had fired three more times, and there were four bodies on the floor.

She ran to the edge of a stack of piping, aimed through it and fired again, taking out someone hiding on the other side. Reloading, she glanced back. “Move it, darling. Or else just stroll out there and draw their fire. We’ll see how well it protects you.”

Caleb crouched and moved to her side. “I think I’ll err on the side of caution for now.”

Nina shrugged. “You know, anything happens to you, I promise to take the Spear and do what has to be done.”

“I appreciate that. Just come back and give me a proper burial after you save the world.”

“No problem.”

Caleb winced as gunfire erupted from the back of the warehouse, and impacts ripped through the canisters and sparked off the floor. He looked to where the dead guard’s operable MP5 had fallen beside the broken one.

“Just the same, I’m adding to my arsenal.” He slid the spear point-down under his belt, hooking an edge, then scampered back for the weapon.

When he returned, keeping his head low in the barrage of incoming fire, Nina said: “You, a gun? Ever actually use one?”

“Yes.”

“Other than a BB gun?”

“Yes, one of these in fact.”

Nina gave him a disbelieving look after another burst of gunfire, which she answered. “And did you actually hit anything?”

Caleb peered around the edge, sighting. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“Oh just pull the trigger and aim that way.” She nodded to the left as she crouched and took off to the right.

Darting out of cover, he aimed and fired. A momentary panic as two black-clad guards stood up and leveled guns at him from twenty yards away, but then red splotches exploded on their foreheads and they went down, just as fast.

Caleb held down the trigger, struggling to maintain control against the recoil. He sent a long burst that took out lights, shattered crates and ricocheted off metal girders and frames. Two screams as the bullets punched through soft cover, and another as a guard took off and Caleb’s uncontrolled sweep happened to catch him in the shoulder.

Three more guard-soldiers ran out, charging him. Two fell to Nina’s expert marksmanship before they could take aim, the third ducked for cover. Caleb could hear him slinking around the side of a massive crate. He aimed for the far side, then saw a flash in his mind.

Behind his position: men had circled around outside. A team of six, guns drawn, running fast.

Crap! He thought. No time. He dropped to his knees, spun and let loose a screaming volley of fire out the open doors into the swirling snow that obscured the men running inside. All four, bunched together, caught the slugs square on and spun back, falling. One made it inside only a few steps before the last few rounds stopped his progress.

Now he’d hit something, Caleb thought. But he knew it was all for nothing. The last soldier, hiding behind the crate, would have sensed his opportunity. He’s out, aiming, and Nina’s not in position.

Caleb dropped the gun and reached for the spear the instant he heard the gunshot. He winced and dropped into a ball. The bullet sailed overhead, striking the pillar beside him. Then he turned, raising the Spear point as another gunshot went off. The Spear shook in his grasp, and then lit up as if struck by lightning. Electric charges crackled along its outline and darted outward.

The guard froze, so mesmerized by the light show that he didn’t see the sleek form pulling out of the shadows behind him; the figure that raised then lowered something at his head. A thwump and he went down, out cold.

“Quit screwing around,” Nina quipped. “We’re almost out of time. And reinforcements are coming.”

More bullets. More chunks of debris exploding around them. Caleb cringed and rushed to her side, where her back was up against a large section of concrete piping. “Do you have another option?”

She grinned as she leaned across him and squeezed off two shots. “Honey, you must know better than to ask that. Don’t forget, Montross obsessed about this facility for half his life. He and I went through a hundred different scenarios of how we could get in here. Studied every diagram, blueprint and schematic of this place. Someone takes a shit on level two, I can tell you which pipe flushes it out.”

Caleb made a face. “I’ll keep that in mind. So, anything that will actually help us?”

She fired again, then turned back around and shot straight ahead, seemingly at the wall. Sparks flew as the bullet impacted metal; then she grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Come on. Air duct, ventilation shaft 24B. It’ll take us right through to the central weaponry lab.”

She hauled him forward toward the broken grate that was now swinging open.

Caleb had to shake his head. “I’m suitably impressed.”

Just inside the grate, after closing it behind them and retreating into the shadows, Nina turned him around and planted a firm kiss on his lips.

This time he didn’t fight it, except a quick pullback to ask, “Now what? I have nothing else to show you.”

She locked her eyes on his. “No, but there’s something I’ve held back that you need to see.”

“Really, we don’t have the time.”

“Just take a sec.” And she pulled him close, closed her eyes and as soon as their lips touched, he saw it.

A jungle in Mexico, a touristy hacienda at the edge of a cliff overlooking a jungle of trees and vines. Inside: a young girl, auburn hair, green eyes, maybe nine years old. Sitting on a floor of blood amidst two decapitated bodies: a man and a woman. Staring, numb and unable to cry, as the two drug hitmen sling her parents’ heads into the bag and prepare the ransom letter.

A flash: and she’s escaping, darting out a window while one of the hitmen chokes on his own blood, a dinner knife stuck through his trachea. She runs…

…arriving at the American embassy the next morning, where she promptly draws them a map, and includes sketches not only of the remaining killer, but his boss. And the location of the drug kingpin’s hideout.