Agent O'Keefe explained that the city would be the backdrop for their training exercise, and he offered no apologies for lifting it directly from the pages of a Phantom Flyer comic book. “In this scenario, your objective is to stop a crackpot robot that calls itself Intellitron from launching nuclear missiles. It wants to wipe out humans so a bunch of godless machines can take over.”
“I thought this looked familiar,” Colt said. “The Phantom Flyer got sucked through a rift and into an alternate Earth where a scientist was working on a new artificial intelligence program for the military,” he said. “One of the robots he was testing turned on him. It's actually Intellitron's first appearance.”
“Who didn't know that?” Danielle said, rolling her eyes.
Colt ignored the sarcasm. “It hacked into the Pentagon and sent something like a dozen nuclear warheads into Russia, which pretty much started World War III.”
“So how do we stop him? Or it? Or whatever it is?”
“Let's hope we get lucky,” Stacy said, butting into their conversation. “It has super intelligence, it can rip a tank in half, and you can't destroy it because it can repair itself.”
As Agent O'Keefe went over some of the ground rules, Colt looked to the sky for caped superheroes. He didn't see any coming, but he noticed that Agent Graves was watching him.
“There's a building called the Omega Foundation just around the corner and down the block,” Agent O'Keefe said as he went over their primary objective. “You have exactly forty-five minutes to break in and shut that robot down before it uploads the launch codes for those nukes. How you accomplish that objective is up to you.”
He flipped a switch on what looked like some kind of remote control, and a cache of weapons and other supplies appeared. There was an FGM-148 Javelin anti-tank missile with a launcher, an M82A1 sniper rifle, three M4A1 assault rifles, an M60E3 machine gun, two Sig Sauer P228 handguns, a satchel with a computer, and four ammunition belts filled with Electro Magnetic Pulse grenades.
“Now remember,” Agent O'Keefe said, “you're in a densely populated urban setting, and CHAOS has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to civilian casualties. This isn't a video game, and I don't want anyone to go in there with guns blazing. You're part of a covert mission, and your assignment is to eliminate a single target. So if you want to pass this test, make sure you keep that in mind. Oh, and I almost forgot,” he added with the hint of a smile. “I thought you might have a bit of fun with this.”
The air shimmered, and what looked like a fifteen-foot-tall robot made out of spare parts from a Sherman tank appeared in the middle of the street. A cab driver slammed on his brakes and veered over the curb and into a hydrant.
“This big galoot is what you call an ABS,” Agent O'Keefe said. “Does anyone besides Romero know what it stands for?”
Colt raised his hand. “Armored battle suit?”
“True enough,” Agent O'Keefe said. “There's a cockpit inside the chest where the driver sits.” He looked down at the watch on his wrist. “Time is ticking, so you better get to it.”
A
s the noise of the city blared around them, Pierce suggested that they assign a field commander to run the mission from the ground. He was quick to volunteer for the position.
“I think we should vote on it,” Stacy said as a rickshaw pulled by a robot with a single wheel sped by.
Pierce sneered. “You heard him, we don't have time. If the clock runs out before we find that robot, we fail.”
“I nominate Oz.” The words spilled from Colt's mouth before he knew what he was saying. But he knew that despite the distance that had grown between them, it was the right choice. Oz had been training in simulators since he was old enough to hold a weapon, and Colt knew if they wanted to pass the test, they were going to need his experience.
“Any other nominees?” Stacy asked, but nobody said a word. “Okay then, all in favor of Oz?” Eight hands went up, leaving Pierce and Oz as the only dissenters.
Oz stood there looking confused, as though he had no idea why Colt had nominated him. “I guess that settles it,” Stacy said. “So what's the plan?”
Oz hesitated as his eyes went from team member to team member. “Okay,” he finally said. “If this scenario sticks to the script, Intellitron has control of the Omega Foundation. That means it's running the defense shields, repulsor rays, elevators, and even temperature control. We need to get Danielle close enough to tap into the operating system so she can shut that thing down before it launches the nukes.”
“As soon as I break through one firewall, it'll build another,”
Danielle said. “I won't be able to type fast enough to keep up.”
“You'll find a way, or we'll fail,” Oz said.
“No pressure or anything.”
Oz ignored her and turned to the rest of the group. “While she's launching a cyber attack, the rest of you are going to create a diversion.”
“What are you going to do?” Pierce asked. “Sit back and take all the credit when we're done?”
“If you have a problem with me, we can settle it after class,”
Oz said. “But for now, we pass or fail as a team.”
“Whatever.”
“Excuse me?”
Pierce glared at him, his teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw.
“Nothing.”
“If anybody gets close enough to take Intellitron out, do it,” Oz said, turning his attention to the rest of the group. “But don't take any crazy risks. We're starting with ten agents, and that's the number I want to see when we finish.”
“Wait,” Danielle said. “I thought we couldn't get hurt.”
“That's not exactly true,” Oz said. “But this is only a Level One scenario, which means the risk of injury is minimal. You can still be eliminated, though, so make sure you don't get hit with a kill shot.”
He divided up the weapons and let Grey drive the ABS. Grey scrambled up the handrails and into the hatch as if he was worried that Oz might change his mind.
By the time the team arrived at the Omega Foundation, police had already set up a perimeter around the building, keeping the growing crowd at bay as best they could. The main entrance to the building was sealed, so Pierce suggested that they go through the sewers. Oz was quick to point out that they didn't have any schematics to know where the tunnels would lead, much less which would open up to the basement level. They did, however, have some heavy weapons.
The street rumbled as Grey moved the ABS into position, taking aim at the front door with a rocket launcher that was mounted on his right shoulder. With the flip of a switch, a rocket hissed before it slammed into the doors. Metal, brick, and glass erupted, and when the dust settled there was a gaping hole in the side of the building.
Pierce shook his head. “That was real subtle.”
“Let's go!” Oz shouted. Bar-Ryak was the first inside, followed by Jomtong, Danielle, Stacy, and then Kethan.
The air filled with a strange buzzing sound. Colt looked up to see three robots with domed heads flying toward them. They were covered in armored casing, and they had organic wings, as though they had been grafted from a dragonfly the size of a rhinoceros. “Scarabs!” he yelled. He remembered them from the comic book, and if this scenario played out anything like the story, the cadets were in trouble.
Pierce raised his M4A1 assault rifle and was about to fire when Oz wrapped his hand around the barrel and ripped it away.
“Do you know what kind of armor those things have? Bullets would bounce off them and into the crowd. Stop trying to be a hero and get inside!”
“Butâ”
“Now!”
Pierce hesitated, but Oz shoved the rifle into his chest and watched Pierce run into the building with the others.
The scarabs were part of the Omega Foundation's defense system, and they had been activated when the wall was breached. Waves of energy erupted from the palms of their hands. The blasts ripped into the sidewalk, sending clumps of asphalt into the air as the crowd screamed. Nervous police officers fired back, sending a hail of bullets into the sky, but they ricocheted off the scarabs just as Oz had predicted.
Colt's heart pounded as the scarabs drew closer, red eyes pulsing as wings pounded and flames shot out from the heels of their jet boots. He was about to head into the building when he spotted a kid with a hoverboard standing behind one of the barricades. Before the kid knew what was happening, Colt grabbed the board, slipped his feet into the bindings, and took off.
“Where're you going?” Oz shouted.
“To create a diversion!”
As Colt raced toward the scarabs, one raised a hand and took aim. At the last possible moment Colt leaned back, and the energy blast ripped through the air where his head had been just moments before. The bolt struck a building across the street, tearing away part of the façade. Someone screamed, and Grey swung the ABS around, moving it to shield a girl and her dog from debris the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. Concrete rained down, bringing the massive ABS to its knees, but Grey kept it from toppling over.
Colt banked hard and pulled an EMP grenade from a pouch in his weapons belt as one of the scarabs reached for him. The grenade was magnetized, so when it came in contact with the robot's exoskeleton, it latched on. There was a flare of light as tendrils of energy spread across the scarab like tiny bolts of lightning. The machine convulsed. Its eye faded and its body went limp as it fell, landing on a garbage truck that buckled under the weight.
C
olt led the other scarabs down a four-lane street, weaving around flying buses and skirting hovercabs. He whizzed past drivers covered in scales and fur. Some had horns, and others had more eyes than he could count. One even had two heads, but there was no time to gawkânot with a pair of ten-ton killing machines chasing after him.
He knew that a moving target was more difficult to hit than something stationary, so he tried to change his elevation, diving below the flow of traffic and then shooting high above. He narrowly missed what looked like a 1962 Corvette, though the hovercar roared through the skyline without any wheels. The driver blared his horn as he cranked his steering wheel to the left. Momentum took the Corvette into oncoming traffic, but the driver managed to swerve back into his lane before he collided with a flying sanitation truck.
One of the scarabs sent an energy blast that missed Colt but hit an animated advertisement for an apparel store. The screen exploded in a shower of sparks that lit up the night like a burst of fireworks. Colt ducked, covering his face with his arms as glass pelted his uniform. The shards cut through fabric and nicked his skin. Simulation or not, he felt pain, and the blood looked real.
There was a break in the buildings, and he took a hard left, pulling in front of a delivery truck at the last second. The scarabs tried to follow, but the truck smashed into one of the machines, sending it reeling into the side of a building. There was an explosion, and people screamed as the scarab fell, ripping through an awning before it landed in a crumbled heap.
Its eyes faded, but Colt didn't stick around to see if it was going to get back up. He raced down an alley that felt like a narrow canyon. An occasional light flickered over a back door or in a random window, but it didn't help much. If it weren't for the glow beneath his hoverboard, he would have been flying blind.
For a moment the fragrance of oregano and basil overpowered the stench of garbage as he rushed past a man sweeping the back stoop of what must have been a restaurant. Colt hoped the red stains on the man's apron were marinara sauce, not blood. The sweeper looked confused when he saw Colt, but when he caught sight of the scarab he dropped his broom, ran inside, and slammed the door shut.
Colt was startled when something jumped from a stack of crates and into the shadows behind a garbage bin. His arms flailed as he tried to keep from falling off his hoverboard. The bindings held tight, and he managed to maintain his balance as his heart pounded and his breathing grew shallow. He looked over his shoulder and saw the red eye of the scarab pulsing in the darkness.
The machine raised both hands, and waves of energy shot from its palms, cutting through the darkness in jagged streaks. One blast hit a light pole, ripping it from the ground before it twirled through the alley and into a wall. The second grazed Colt's rib cage, singeing his uniform before it struck a rusted 1968 Plymouth Valiant. The impact lifted the car off the pavement, flipping it over before it landed upside down.
Metal crunched and glass shattered, but Colt kept going. He thought about ditching the hoverboard and trying to escape through one of the buildings, but he knew the scarab would follow. If any civilians inside got injured, points would be deducted, and Colt didn't want to be responsible for the team failing. Besides, escape was never an option. He was a decoy, which meant he needed to stay out in the open.
It was almost too late when Colt noticed that the alley was about to end. He banked hard to the left until he was practically parallel with the ground. His board scraped the brick wall and sparks flew before he straightened out and cut between two buildings. Moments later he was in a crouch, bursting back into the street.