Induction (The Age of Man Book 1) Page 16

  Mortars continued to rain down on the attackers as they dashed wildly across the open killing field. Shell after shell turned the once vicious Crusaders into pieces of flesh and bone scattered across the pocked ground. Unfortunately for the invading army, heavy explosives were out of the question. Dante would never risk damaging the prize that he so desperately sought. The Crusaders were not, however, without response. James watched the insurgents toss canister after canister of nano-paste at the enemy positions before them. While their weapons were hardly accurate, when one of their tubes of goo did find its mark, it consumed the surrounding position almost instantly, melting it into oblivion. Metal, concrete, flesh, all gone in a matter of seconds.

  Without the danger of an actual air force carrying out combat operations in the area, the elite air infantry divisions of each army had engaged each other overhead. They fought well above the charging ground troops, trying to gain air superiority for their side. Each air warrior wore a distinctive exosuit equipped with millions of tiny pores through which concentrated blasts of chemical ignition allowed the pilot to have exquisite maneuverability and control. The combatants blasted around the inferno, firing at each other and throwing incendiaries and other explosive devices down onto the soldiers fighting below. While the government’s troops were better equipped, the Crusaders made up for their technological lag with a fearlessness and ferocity that caught many of the defenders of the Atria Plant off guard.

  James was tightly hugging the outer wall of the compound when another battered corpse came crashing out of the air. He looked down at the twisted body of the broken Crusader and for the briefest moment felt pity for the man, but it passed as fast as it had come on. He pulled the corpse towards him, searching the downed pilot for supplies to help him finish breaching the plant. As he looted the fallen soldier, his allies nearby tried to breach the door into the ground floor of the Atria for the third time. They squirted their nano-paste onto the metal frame with reckless abandon, but as quickly as the top layer of metal melted away, the same purple neutralizing agent he’d seen at the Toxic Truth came leaking out of the door. Realizing that they’d have to dart back through the killing field to a secondary access point, James wasted no time in salvaging whatever pieces of the exosuit looked to still be in working order.

  Despite the fact that he lacked any formal training in the flight technology, the suit itself was fairly user friendly and intuitive. Pulling the chest plate over his upper torso, he felt the jagged edges of the blast holes peppered across the front. Apparently the suit’s former owner had taken a full salvo directly to the chest prior to plummeting out of the air. The armor was alarmingly loose on James, just barely sealing properly. The young rebel stood there for a moment with the suit on, trying to brace himself for the vertigo of flight, and then, as if by magic, he willed himself off the ground and the suit sprang to life. He hovered there near the wall for a few seconds trying to get used to the fine balance of the armor, but the damaged front of the chest plate kept threatening to send him cartwheeling forward. He had to compensate by willing the back thrusters down to almost nothing, putting strain on the rest of the suit. After a moment of equilibrium, he tried ascending, but put too much energy into the command, causing the armor to blast upwards into the sky like a rocket leaving Earth. Before he could even begin to slow the thrusters down, he was well above the cloud line and extremely dizzy from the rough takeoff. His rifle had been hurled out into the fray during the launch, leaving him weaponless as he lurched through the clouds a mile or two above the battle. He tried willing the suit back down, but still couldn’t manage to find the sweet spot necessary for smooth transitions. As the ignition cut out, James began free-falling down towards the compound. He closed his eyes to lessen the dizziness and brought the suit tearing out of the plummet, causing it to arc violently back up. Enemy pilots, noticing the wild maneuver, began unloading their railguns at him as he rocketed around the sky like a drunken crow. As the purple tracers continued racing by him, he once again fired upwards, then plummeted back down. James finally managed to stabilize the suit, hovering somewhere above the facility. One of the Special Branch pilots pulled up next to him, firing another salvo. The thrusters roared as he began swerving again, this time with a little bit of intent behind the erratic movements. The young rebel started roughly circling down towards the roof of the main compound, where he could see dozens of black-clad guards firing off of the upper level of the building down onto the attackers. He pulled up out of the dive right as the Special Branch pilot who had been chasing him yanked down in front of him. Having lost his rifle in the initial takeoff, James sent the suit thrusting straight at his pursuer. He lurched forward, forgetting to compensate for the faulty frontal thrusters, which sent him head over heels into the other pilot, who didn’t have time to dodge the desperate charge. The two men crashed into each other and locked, tumbling down towards the roof and gaining speed as they went. Both tried engaging their suits to slow their descent, but couldn’t quite pull up through the rapid spinning. They slammed into the roof, sending other soldiers running as they did. Above them, nano-paste grenades rained down from another team of Crusader pilots who went blasting over the roof.

  James scrambled to grab a fallen rifle and kicked off of the enemy pilot who had landed slightly beneath him. He engaged the remaining functional thrusters of his armor, sending him grinding across the roof towards one of the openings. The boy slammed into the wall of the staircase and again went crashing to the ground, though this time under the safety of a shielded ceiling. He righted himself as fast as he could and began pulling off the severely damaged exosuit, which had begun sparking in an alarming way. The metal was hot from the friction, but he managed to remove it without scalding himself too badly. From the throbbing pain in his lower chest, James assumed that he’d broken at least two of his ribs in the crash. He pulled a morphine tablet out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth. If one could say anything for the Crusaders, it’s that they were never stingy with the dispensation of their medication. As James washed the opioid down with the water in his canteen, he could hear people screaming up above, where one of the grenades had splashed some of its payload onto the hapless defenders, causing agony unlike any of them had ever known.

  All around him, people were rushing up and down the stairs, hardly even taking notice of the newcomer. Acting as casual as he could, he started down the stairs, passing medics and reinforcements that were making their way to the upper deck.

  “They’ve breached the west port. The entire first floor is overrun!” said a soldier, pushing by him towards the roof.

  “We have to hold them in the courtyard. Too many are getting through,” replied his comrade, racing up behind him.

  James looked down at his new rifle as he continued his descent. If he couldn’t free Haley and escape, he could at least make sure that they wouldn’t be captured alive ever again.

  At the landing of the sixth floor, he made his way through the metallic door into one of the numerous lobbies of the building. For the first time since entering the facility, two soldiers acknowledged him and realized that he wasn’t there to help, but as quickly as they noticed him, he raised his rifle and fired, sending both crashing to the ground lifeless. A woman in a white lab coat standing nearby screamed and tried running, but James was faster. He caught her in a matter of seconds and slammed her roughly against the wall.

  “I’m looking for someone,” he said, holding his forearm against her throat. “And you’re going to help me find her.”

  The woman hesitated for a moment, eying the rifle in his hand, then nodded her head. Everyone in the production plant knew about the mystery woman being held there, as Dr. Nightrick had done virtually nothing to suppress the fact that he was keeping a prisoner following the battle in the Brukan Desert. With his new captive in tow, James proceeded down to the fourth floor. He kept the muzzle of his rifle pushed up against the woman’s back, trying to be as subtle as possible while they shove
d their way down the crowded stairwell. Walking through the door into the fourth floor lobby, they found a small holding force blocking the way. Despite the fact that they were on high alert to hold the landing, the defenders were hesitant to fire toward the captive Neuro Corp employee. James, however, wasn’t hesitant to fire at them, and as ruthlessly as ever he silenced another three men.

  “Please…please don’t hurt me,” sobbed the woman. “My name is Lauren Ingell and I’m…I’m just an employee here.”

  “As long as you take me to Haley, you’ll be just fine. Now shut up and get us there,” he responded, prodding her along with a nudge from his rifle. As they proceeded down the hall, the sound of gunfire grew louder and louder. The battlefield no longer had a true front line. It was chaos everywhere, with enemy combatants frantically trying to silence each other with little order or decorum.

  When the duo finally arrived at the makeshift prison, they found the oak door ajar. James looked around the empty cell, inspecting the damaged dresser and the mess strewn all about the floor. On the nightstand next to Haley’s bed, he spotted the book he’d given her. He stared at it for moment before turning to walk back out. As he did, his foot caught against the fallen chair in the center of the room. He looked up, finally noticing the crude noose hanging from the rafter above him.

  “That has to be some sort of sick taunt,” he said, more to himself than his terrified captive. “Nightrick must have moved her when the battle began. Do you have any idea where Nightrick would be?”

  “If I had to guess, he’s probably in the command hub with the rest of the war council. The commanders have been leading the defense of the Atria from there.”

  “Fine, then that’s where we’re headed,” he replied, taking one last look at the dangling sheet.

  Nightrick glanced up at the large screen across which Turing continued to project the latest figures into the command center. Behind him, the war council sat at their long conference table, trying to manage the factory’s defense without an actual army to command.

  “Turing, how long can we keep our grip on the second floor?” asked the doctor as he stood transfixed on the live feed from the fallen first floor.

  “In the best case scenario, we have perhaps thirty minutes,” replied the AI. “If it is any consolation, Doctor, I am receiving verified reports that the army has routed the opposition in the north. The coalition is in full retreat and taking massive casualties.”

  “Obliteration awaits the CLF. It’s just too bad that none of us will be alive to savor that triumph,” said Nightrick, shifting his attention towards the glowing AI hub near the front of the table. “We need to buy more time. Turing, how much of the volatilizer has been synthesized?”

  “Approximately fifty liters, Doctor.”

  “That’s plenty. Have the technicians begin adding our supply into whatever organics they can get their hands on. Seal the vents leading to the upper levels and then dump the gas down onto the first floor. I want it flooded. No survivors.”

  “Dr. Nightrick, you understand that that constitutes a war crime under the Darion Conventions?” said General Bismuth from his seat at the conference table. “We can’t allow ourselves to begin using chemical weapons like that or we’re no better than they are.”

  “Oh, that’s a war crime?” replied Nightrick, turning to address the general. “But I suppose all of the torture and brainwashing that we’ve done hasn’t quite met the criteria? And how much exactly have the Crusaders, or any other faction for that matter, followed those guidelines? I seem to recall numerous instances of chemical weapon use on their part. I’m not going to put us at a disadvantage because you don’t want to get down into the mud with them. War is the crime, General, but if you’re going to get into one anyway, make damn sure that you win it.”

  “Doctor, I have identified James Mercer fighting on the sixth floor,” interrupted the AI. “It appears that he entered through the roof.”

  “He’s here?” said Nightrick. “Well maybe this won’t be a total loss after all. How exactly did he enter through the roof? Have we lost the upper levels too?”

  “No, sir. It appears that he crashed and somehow made his way down in the commotion.”

  “Then you’ll have to excuse me,” said the doctor, stepping away from the table. “I have work to attend to. Hold this plant at all costs, General. And, Turing, see to it that you bathe every inch of this facility that we lose in gas.” The doctor turned and walked back into his lab. As he did, the heavy metal doors engaged their emergency lockdown mechanisms behind him, slamming shut and temporarily isolating him from the command center. “Turing, what the hell is going on now?” he asked, eyeing the freshly sealed barricade.

  “Crusaders have breached the second floor, sir,” said the AI. “We’re on full lockdown. They’re charging straight towards the command center. I believe that they are intent on capturing the war council.”

  “Quite an analysis. So much for thirty minutes,” replied Nightrick. He picked up one of the rifles that he’d left in his workspace and checked the ammo count before setting it back down. “Well, Turing, one way or another, this ends here and now,” he said as the first breach charge detonated out in the corridor.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dante made his way down the long hall with Dr. Reya and his personal guard close behind. The facility now looked less like a place of production and more like an apocalyptic nightmare. Half the building was burning and almost nothing had been left untouched by the ferocious fighting. Since the initiation of the attack, reports had been streaming in of friendly fire amongst the Crusaders, but to look at Dante, one would never be able to tell that anything was wrong. His face was stone solid, almost on the brink of a smirk.

  Fighting on the first floor had all but ended. Just bodies and Crusaders inhabited the area now. Dante continued his march forward, occasionally sparing an unsympathetic glance down at a wounded soldier writhing on the ground. He paused for a moment to consult his entourage. “Dr. Reya, what’s the status of the breach?”

  “According to our techs, the command center should be open within two minutes,” she responded, consulting her datacuff. “And, thank God, the emergency lockdown protocols that they initiated on the chemical storage bays are holding for the moment. We should be able to douse the flames before they detonate anything serious if we can finish taking the war council in a timely fashion.”

  “Good, then Dr. Nightrick has no place left to retreat to,” said Dante with a satisfied grin. “Once we’ve taken him, the war is over. Then we can concern ourselves with purging the insubordination from our ranks. I have a strong feeling that Saul has strayed from the flock and betrayed us. I offer him new life and he spits in my face.”

  “Possibly,” said Dr. Reya. “Based on the reports I’m getting so far, the guards you placed on him before the invasion died before even making it into the compound. Apparently the sector that they were crossing experienced particularly heavy shelling from Special Branch. There’s a strong chance that James is dead, to be totally honest with you.”

  Dante shook his head. “He’s alive. We should have kept him closer than we did. The boy is lucky that the storage bays are so far out of our way, not that I imagine he’s particularly concerned with reaching them now that he’s free of his escort. When Saul is located again I want him brought to me.”

  Dr. Reya nodded. “As you command.”

  The band of Crusaders continued forward to the staircase leading up to the second floor, sending scouts forward to ensure the path was cleared. As the group awaited their return, a thin, milky cloud began to trickle out of the air ducts nearby.

  Dr. Reya frowned, staring at the fumes for a moment before realizing what was happening. “Gas!” she cried, pointing towards the vents overhead. “They’re flooding the floor, run!”

  As panicked soldiers scattered throughout the first floor desperately scrambled to pull their gas masks back on, many of the others weren’t so lucky. People push
ed and shoved each other aside trying to race to the exits, causing numerous men and women, particularly the wounded, to be trampled. As the gas continued to pour in, many of the victims went blind, clawing at their eyes in their final moments.