Control Point (3 page)

Cheatham sagged in his safety harness, punching at the release. “I’m stuck, sir.”

Britton could see the girl continuing to gesture. The wind, whipped into dusty funnels by the breaking rotors, coalesced into human shapes, plunging among the assaulters, who cried out, firing as they fell back to the roof’s edge. The air elementals spun among them, their flexing tornado forms spinning shreds of tar paper, broken gravel, and spent ammunition casings. Dawes squeezed off two shots that punched through one of the creatures harmlessly before it swatted him with a gale that knocked him flat against the roof’s lip. He slammed against it hard, the thickness of his body armor protecting his spine and saving him from going over the edge.

They had landed to take on two Selfers. Within moments, they faced a small army.

Britton knew that to stop the elementals, they’d have to take out the girl.
Whether Harlequin wants it or not,
he thought,
we’re in the fight now.

“TOC! We’ve got sentient elemental conjuration up here! We’re pinned down!” Britton shouted into the microphone, yanking his pistol from its holster.

“Goddamn it!” Harlequin said. “I knew this would happen!” Britton heard more gunfire, then a deafening explosion from
the direction of the shooting. He looked over Cheatham’s shoulder to see the boy wreathed in a tornado of flame. Bullets pocked the wall around the Selfer, tore holes in his chest and legs as he thrust his hands forward and arced the burning funnel towards Dawes with such force that bricks went flying. The blast flew wild, but the edge caught Dawes as he dove to the side. The intense heat ignited the helicopter’s side, the metal sparking white as it burned away in patches, mixing with the dripping remnants of the windscreen. The fuel tank kicked outward with a bang, the blast catching Dawes as he sprawled on the roof. Cheatham’s flight suit smoldered, but the Kiowa’s shell shielded him from the blast. The tar paper vaporized, the gravel beneath heated white-hot, the stones exploding like gunshots.

One of the SOC assaulters had rappelled to the roof and leveled his carbine at the girl. She glanced at him, and the lingering flames erupted, spawning three man-shaped figures. They launched themselves at him, pounding with flickering fists. He screamed as his helmet melted, the covering of his armor burning away, ceramic plates beneath turning white-hot. Young and Hertzog turned the fire suppressors on them, drowning the elementals in foam. The creatures stayed on the assaulter, burning him even as they diminished under the flame-retardant chemicals.

Dear God,
Britton thought.
It’s the girl. If I don’t stop her, she’ll fry the whole team.

Britton finally punched out of the restraints and fell out of the helicopter, his shoulder striking the roof hard enough to jar his teeth. He aimed his pistol at the girl, squeezing the trigger as a rock elemental stepped between them, the bullet whining off the shifting stone.

The misshapen head drove forward. Britton dodged, but it only moved him into the elemental’s arms, which pinned his own, squeezing hard. Britton dropped the pistol and gasped for breath, his ribs flexing. His vision began to gray.

Harlequin’s boots landed on the roof with a thud.

The Aeromancer lifted his arms, and dark clouds spun around his hands, pulsing with angry electricity. Lightning burst forth in a dazzling arc, tearing off the elemental’s head and missing Britton by inches. Electricity pulsed through the
thing’s shoulders, grounding through the gravel so that Britton only felt a slight twinge of electric current. Rock flowed up to form a new head as the elemental turned to face the new threat, releasing Britton, who sucked down air, cradling his battered ribs.

One of the air elementals, its vaguely human outline marked by swirling dust, leapt over the helo toward them. Harlequin extended a hand, and a gale swept into it, its shape blurring as it was blown apart, scattering dozens of bullet casings swept up in its funneling form.

“That’s one you owe me, Lieutenant,” Harlequin said, as Britton scrambled to his feet and retrieved his gun. “I told you you’d just get in the damn way.” He leapt into the sky, turning toward the girl, only to be caught by another air elemental that had formed itself into a spinning funnel. Harlequin spun into its recesses, cursing, battered by gravel caught in the funnel’s center. The air elemental contracted on itself, spinning the Aeromancer dizzy, and both swept over the side of the roof.

The rock elemental, its head restored, stormed toward the rest of the assault team, who battled the small army of elementals. Goodman turned the machine gun on the creature, funneling the heavy-caliber rounds until they ripped a sizeable hole in its torso, almost tearing it in half. The elemental stumbled, then paused, head inclined as the rock flowed to seal the gap. Goodman cursed and fell back.

The SOC bird descended toward them. The Pyromancer, a blazing human torch, balanced on one skid. The other SOC assaulter stood on the opposite side of the helicopter, sheltering from the magical flames in the cool night air. Britton could see him trying to sight the girl, but the running fight between assaulter and elemental obscured his target.

I can do this,
Britton thought.
She’s not a girl, she’s a monster.

But when Britton rolled out around the helicopter’s nose, leading with his pistol, all he could see was a teenager, tears tracking through her makeup. Even as she concentrated on sustaining her magic, she looked terrified.

The SOC assaulter lay dead in his melted armor. The boy sat against the metal door, he thrashed, spouting random gouts
of flame. His chest and gut were a ragged collection of entry wounds. The girl stood beside him, sobbing.

Britton knelt, sighting down his pistol, blowing out his breath and taking his time.

You can do this,
he told himself.
You have to do this.

He fired by the book, easing the trigger backward, not anticipating the recoil, letting the gun go off.

But he couldn’t. He pulled his shot at the last minute. The bullet broke low and left, clipping the girl’s side, sending her spinning in a circle.

He felt a hammerblow to his shoulder and pitched forward, skinning his nose. He rolled over onto his back, firing two more shots into another rock elemental that had one fist raised. The bullets sparked as they ricocheted off the thing’s chest. Britton tried to roll to one side, knowing it wouldn’t matter, waiting for the crushing impact of the blow that would smash his skull.

But the blow never came. When Britton opened his eyes, the elemental had collapsed into a pile of gravel, cascading over his boots. He kicked out from under it and got to his feet in time to see the remaining assaulters blinking in amazement as the elemental onslaught suddenly broke off.

Then the screaming reached them.

Dawes, burning brightly, clawed the air. His carbine was a melted mass. Young doused him with foam, cursed, and dragged him by one boot toward a puddle of rainwater. Britton ran to his Kiowa for the medkit. He was intercepted by Cheatham, who had freed himself from his restraints and carried it. In a moment, the fire was out, and Britton and Cheatham were kneeling beside Dawes, spreading burn gel over his wounds.

Harlequin, recovered from his battle with the air elemental, returned to the roof and landed beside them. He reached out toward the boy, and the flames vanished as the Pyromancer’s magic rolled back.

Britton stared at Dawes. He was wounded, but he would make it.

“What happened to the girl?” Britton called to Young. The master sergeant pointed at the bullet-riddled metal door leading into the school.

Maybe she’s still alive,
he thought.
I’ve got to get to her before Harlequin does.

“Come with me,” Britton said, racing to the door. “The rest of you get Dawes stabilized.”

“Wait,” Harlequin said. “I can’t help you while I’m Suppressing this little shit. Let me get this secure, and I’ll smoke her out.”

No way,
Britton thought.
I’m not letting you kill her.

“She took a round in her gut, sir. Her elemental army has disbanded,” Britton said, moving to the door opposite Young. “If she’s not dead already, she’s in no shape to fight us.” If they had any hope of bringing her out alive, they had to move quickly. “Go with a flash-bang,” he said to Young, “just in case.”

Young nodded. Britton tried the door handle. The knob turned easily, still cool. Young yanked the flash-bang from his vest and threw it through the door. It thumped and clattered down the stairwell as both men turned away from the blinding flash that followed.

“Go! Go! Go!” Britton shouted, kicking open the door and covering with his pistol as Young rolled around the door frame, leading with his carbine.

Blood, turning tacky on the concrete, trailed down the stairwell. The girl sprawled against the white cinder-block wall, panting. She clutched her hip where the bullet had bitten a sizeable chunk out of her. Her black skirt adhered wetly to her thigh. Britton had never seen so much blood in his life.

“Cover her,” Britton said as he went to her. She moaned weakly, half-conscious. “Dan!” he shouted into the commlink. “She’s hurt bad. I’m bringing her out. I’m going to need a trauma bandage and a ton of gauze. Clotting powder if you’ve got it.”

The SOC bird landed as he burst onto the roof, setting the girl down. Goodman and Cheatham went to her as Britton raced to Dawes. The SOC assaulter ran to the helo and returned with an emergency blanket. Young helped Britton to lift Dawes as gently as they could. “It’s going to be all right, man,” Britton said. “You’re going to be fine.” Dawes whined from the clear side of his mouth. The other half of his face was a melted ruin.

The teenaged Pyromancer had expired from his wounds. His eyes stared sightlessly from his pale face.

Britton swallowed hard and helped to lay Dawes in the Kiowa. He turned back to the wounded Elementalist. “Dan, how’s she do—”

A gunshot cut him off.

By the time he had turned, the assaulter had already thrown the blanket over her, covering her face. Harlequin’s pistol smoked.

“You son of a bitch!” Britton screamed, hurling himself at Harlequin. The SOC assaulter leapt between them, pushing him back.

“ROE are clear, Lieutenant,” Harlequin said. “She’s a Probe. She attacked a government agent. She’s dead. End of story. We can discuss your attempted assault of a superior officer later.”

“You bastard!” Britton screamed. “She was wounded! She wasn’t a threat!”

“She’s a Probe,” Harlequin repeated, “and now she’s a dead Probe. Calm the hell down, Lieutenant, your men are watching.”

Britton whirled, taking in his team. All were covered in burns and cuts. Goodman looked sick. Young was pale. “Sir,” Cheatham said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Dawes needs help now. We’ve got to get him out of here.”

Britton nodded. The girl was dead, Dawes was alive. First things first.

“TOC,” Harlequin spoke into his microphone. “This is Aero-1. Element has brought order to chaos. Two enemy KIA. I’m leaving one for mop-up. The other was a confirmed Probe, and SOC will take custody of the remains.”

“Negative, Harlequin. We’re going to need all the bodies for our after-action,” came the commander’s voice.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harlequin said, not sounding sorry at all. “Regs are clear. We’re to take custody of any Probe remains. If you have any objections, feel free to take it up the chain. For now, I have my orders.”

There was a pause. “Roger that,” the commander finally replied, sounding furious. “Element status?”

“SOC Element has one KIA,” Harlequin said. “Support Element has one WIA, and one busted chopper. You also might
want to get the fire department up here before what’s left of your Kiowa gets cooked. They might still be able to save the school.”

Harlequin looked around at the rising flames. The fight had been finished quickly, but the flames were spreading in spite of the fire retardant soaking the roof. “Not to worry, sir,” he said, reaching for the girl, “the SOC bird will exfiltrate full element and get the wounded to the cash right away.”

Harlequin gathered the girl’s shrouded body in his arms. “I’ll meet you on the ground.” He leapt skyward.

They squeezed ten into a helicopter meant for six, stacking themselves in the open bay, Dawes resting on top. Britton shuddered at the cooked-meat stench.
He was under my command. It’s my responsibility. Harlequin warned us to stay away.
Why had he even bothered to come? He hadn’t been able to save either kid. It had been useless.

The Kiowa lumbered under the extra weight, circling the burning building and descending toward the Combat Support Hospital among the trailers.

“Fucking Elementalist,” the Pyromancer said. His uniform was perfect, not a strand of his jet-black hair out of place. There was no sign of the blaze that had raged over his body beyond a faint smell of smoke. “Fucking Probe.”

“She was just a kid,” Britton said.

“Then she should have turned herself in. She ran. She went Selfer.”

Britton shuddered as a he recalled the sound of that single gunshot. “Yeah, I just saw how you treat Probes when they’re subdued. Would it have been any different if she’d turned herself in?”

The Pyromancer looked at Britton as if noticing a bug. “With all due respect,
sir
.” He spit out the word. “Selfers like her hurt a hell of a lot more kids than we just did. She knew the law. She had a choice. She deserved what she got. She killed one of ours and hurt one of yours.”

“The boy hurt my man, not her. Jesus. Anyone can come up Latent at any time. It’s not like she chose this. But Harlequin still shot her in the head while she was lying helpless on the ground. What the hell is wrong with you people?”

The Pyromancer shrugged. “Rules of engagement. That’s lifeblood in this business. Maybe you should memorize them, seeing how it’s your job to carry them out.”

Britton didn’t want him to have the last word. “Still, those kids did pretty good, considering they haven’t had a day of training, and you do this for a living.”