Gathering Storm (27 page)

Running straight for the
closest alarm that Monq had installed, she broke the glass with her
elbow and pushed the big yellow button to set off the gas, then
braced to be stripped of enhanced abilities.
Get ready to be an average elf.

Initiating Monq’s
Equalizer released the gas, but also set off the alarm, which was
ten times louder than it needed to be and sounded like a giant
goose was honking once every three seconds. With frayed nerves and
juices flowing, all she needed was the irritation of a sound like
that.

While she still had speed
to call on, she raced down the hall to the media center which also
contained the intercom equipment. At that point she didn’t know
that the Ralengclan had scrambled communication signals, rendering
cells, wireless, and cybernet useless. She was going for the
intercom because it was the most efficient way to communicate an
emergency to Jefferson Unit occupants. The fact that it was
the
only
form of
communication still operational, since it was entirely independent
of externalities, was good luck.

The intercom system was
WYSIWG. The wired mic was built into its own base and sat in a base
in the middle of a table. She picked it up and started to speak
into it, but got nothing. Pulling away, she found an ON switch on
the back and tried again.

“This is NOT a drill.
Repeat. This is NOT a drill. We are under attack. All non-essential
personnel, stay in your quarters. All others report to your
stations. And Monq! Shut off that FUCKING noise NOW!”

Elora dropped the mic and
ran for the hallway to the west end stairwell. Helm was crying so
loud he was practically screaming because of the sound of the alarm
and she didn’t blame him. She felt like doing the same thing
herself.

Before she reached the west
end stairs, two things happened. The alarm stopped.
By all the gods, living and dead, thank you,
Monq.
And the hallway filled up with
twenty-three teenaged trainees who had just descended two floors
from their quarters on the second story. Quickly.

That was two bits of good
news. First, the fact that the boys were there meant that the west
end stairs were clear for Elora to get to Sublevel 2. Second, after
the alarm went off, Helm stopped crying.

The bad news was that she
had nearly two dozen kids standing in front of her, none of them
bullet proof and none of them where they were supposed to be – safe
in their quarters behind locked doors.

“Do you not understand
what all those drills were for?” The trainees could see that Elora
was furious, but they were unfazed. And, come to think of it, not
the least panicked by the fact that Jefferson was under attack.
Elora’s odd response was to observe that Black Swan recruiters
obviously knew what they were doing.

Kris Falcon crossed his
arms over his chest and raised his chin. “We know what drills are
for.”

“Never mind. Come with
me.”

Helm had grown heavy and
so had her own center of gravity. She glanced at her watch and
quickly did the math in her head. Three hours and seventeen minutes
meant the effects would wear off at half past midnight.

The good news was that she
had to assume the Ralengclan didn’t have any more advantage than
highly trained, super fit
male
commandos would in any dimension.

She stood at the top of the stairs
descending to Sublevel 2 and gestured for the kids to go down
before her, keeping a watchful eye on the elevators and the
hallways.

“Hurry. Wait for me in the
armory. Go. Go. Go.”

Sublevel 2 contained the
research labs, Monq’s suite, training simulators, firing ranges,
and, most importantly, weapons. It would typically be quiet and
deserted on a week night after dinner, with Monq being the only one
who was quartered there. On that particular night, however,
Deliverance hadn’t come to take Angel to the vineyard. Angel had
waited around for a while after dinner and finally decided he might
as well get some target practice in.

Just like Elora had suspected, he was a
natural with guns and liked shooting so much that it was
recreational for him.

When the alarm went off, he reasoned that
sooner or later people would make their way to the armory. So
that’s where he was waiting when Z Team rushed in.

“Hey,” he said.

The four of them gave him
strange looks. The one with the tat tails curling up his neck said,
“Hey? He’s not even looking at us like something he just scraped
off his boot.”

People could accuse Angel
of a lot of things, but being slow wasn’t one of them. He figured
that if Storm had a deal with these guys, he’d better preserve the
deteriorated state of relations. So, he said, “My mistake. Thought
you were somebody else.”

When Elora and the kids broke in, they found
the four knights who had been left to defend Jefferson Unit and one
knight-in-pretense. Her eyes took in the scene and locked on Angel.
“What are you doing here?”

“I
was
doing target
practice.”

Zed Company had the full
complement stash opened up, all cabinets and the vault that
required top security clearance to open the combination, and were
outfitting themselves like it was a world war. Monq ran in looking
unsettled.

Elora moved toward him.
She held Helm out to him, but Monq shook his head. “Take him!” Monq
shook his head again. “Monq! We’ve got two jobs here. Fighting or
babysitting. Which one do you want?”

After one second of
consideration, Monq reached for Helm, whose displeasure with the
new arrangement was equal to Monq’s if not greater.

Glyphs spoke up. “You kids
need to get cover and stay out of our way. We’ve got work to
do.”

Falcon looked at Glyphs.
His body language screamed defiance. “We don’t take orders from
you. We take orders from her.” He jerked his chin toward
Elora.

“Yeah?” Glyphs looked at
Elora and sneered. “Well, you’d better stay out of our way, too,
Red.”

Elora gaped at him,
wondering if she’d imagined the lip curl, but didn’t have time to
deliver a lecture about the courteous and respectful regard knights
are expected to extend to one another. She called after Z Team as
they were leaving the room. “Don’t be in the wrong place at the
wrong time because we’re sealing passageways.”

They didn’t acknowledge
hearing her in any way.

She turned back to
Monq.

“Okay. Take Helm and all
these kids to Fire Testing. Get inside and lock up. It will act
like a bunker until we either get rid of the threat or help comes.
Go right now.”

Monq motioned to the
vault. “The new stuff is top shelf on the right in little bubble
size vacuums. You’ve got to be extremely careful with it. They look
like poppers, same size and shape. And they perform the same way
except that, instead of making a big pop, each one will take out
everything in an area of about fifteen feet. Make sure you’re
twenty feet away just in case. Throw it hard. The vacuum case will
break open and the popper will detonate.”

“So it requires somebody with a pitcher’s
arm.”

Monq started to say, “Or you,” then
remembered her extras were temporarily sidelined.

“Monq. Your mission is that baby. Do you
understand?”

He nodded and turned to
go. “Come on, boys.”

They didn’t
move.

Elora stopped arming
herself when she realized the kids weren’t moving. “This is SO not
the time for rebellious acting out. Go with Monq!”

Bo spoke up. “All respect,
ma’am. We’re Black Swan. That means we may not be knights, but
we’re not hiding either. If you want to call that ‘acting out’,
then so be it.”

“Monq. Go on. I’ll deal
with this.”

Elora talked to Bo while
she was making weapons choices and shoving things into a pack. When
she was satisfied, she handed the pack off to Angel. She knew he
was good with guns and packed accordingly.

“Here. See what goodies Santa brought you
and figure out a way to make yourself useful.”

“Yeah. Batch me up one of
those goodie bags, too, mama.”

Elora wheeled around to
see Fennimore. She grinned. “You’re a sight.”

“Why, thank you, darlin’.”

“You got our girl locked down?”

“She has sworn on our unborn children to
stay put and keep the door locked. No matter what.”

“One less worry.”

“It is. I’ll go with him.”
Fenn’s eyes slid to Angel, whom he believed to be Storm. “We’ll
sort out the east end.”

Elora jerked her eyes to
Angel who nodded as if to say, “Don’t worry. I got this.” Then he
opened his mouth and said, “Don’t worry. We got this.”

She nodded and handed them
a pack with the C9. “This is the new stuff. Just one will seal a
passage, safe distance twenty feet. Whichever one of you has the
strongest, most accurate arm, throw them like poppers and make sure
you’re clear.

“These are the same aliens
who came for me in Ireland.” She gave Storm a look to let him know
it was a shared memory. Then she said to Fennimore, “They’re
wearing black. They’re trained, but not like us. I’m their
objective.”

“How many are
there?”

“Don’t know. I had to get the baby out of
harm’s way and couldn’t stay to count.”

“Okay. What’s the plan?”

“Two prong ambushes. We’re
going to try to lure them to S3, seal them in and shut off heat and
air from the main controls on S1.”

“How are you gonna do
that, Elora?” Fennimore looked dubious.

“I’m going to get on the
intercom and tell them to come and get me. They probably won’t be
dumb enough to send everybody down there, but they
will
send
some.

“So here’s what I want you
to do. Get down there first and blow every elevator from the
inside. I don’t know, maybe you can throw the popper just before
the doors are closing?” Angel and Fennimore just looked at each
other. “We need all seven out of commission. Don’t leave
any
operating. Then seal
off the east and west stairwells so that their only route is by way
of the Hub stairs. Give me a time frame?”

Fennimore looked at Elora
hard while he was concentrating on calculations. She could almost
see his brain circuitry busy running scenarios. “I think we can do
it in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll give you twenty including time to get
above S3 and out of sight. When you think that all the rats that
are going to eat have taken the bait, blow the stairwell.”

Angel said, “Suffocation.
Not exactly a warrior’s death fantasy.”

Elora grinned. “It’ll take
a while, but… yeah.”

“What’s the other part?”

“After we’ve culled the
eager beavers, I’ll get back on the mic and tell them I’ve moved to
the Courtpark.” She handed Fennimore a pack. “Make sure there are
no civilians in the stairwells before you light ‘em up.” She
paused. “Z Team’s out there. Rogue.”

Fennimore pressed his lips
together. “Just what I’d expect.”

“Twenty minutes.”

He took his pack and
strapped an automatic over his shoulder. “You take care or Storm
and I will be answering to that crazy ass elf.”

Her eyes darted to Angel
and back to Fennimore. She smiled. “See you later. And, Fenn, if
it’s the other side, you tell that elf that…” She misted up and
didn’t finish.

Fennimore put his big hand
on her shoulder and shook his head. “Tell him yourself.”

CHAPTER 20

“Harder. Wait. Oh. Ow. Ow.
Ow. Ow.” Rosie stopped and looked at Glen with concern. He said,
“No, baby. More pressure on the penis, but easy with the
balls.”

“Oh.”

Rosie could have accessed
her parents’ memories and learned a few things about sex.
Instantly. But she felt like she owed them privacy where some
things were concerned. So she’d decided to figure it out on her
own, trial and error, like everybody else, and Glen didn’t seem to
mind. It was one area of her life where she wanted
all
her experience to be
her own.

If he was a kiss and tell
sort, he would have said that Rosie was a fast learner, eager to
please, and so greedy in bed that she was relentless.

Beautiful.

Glen sat with his back
against the headboard on the verge of being stroked to permanent
nirvana. Rosie’s eyes were lit with wonder, which was a huge turn
on. Having her in his bed was a huge turn on. Knowing he was the
first to ever touch her was a huge turn on. The fact that she
believed she could claim him just by calling dibs, strange as that
was, it was also a huge turn on. Really, everything about Rosie
from her voice to her smile to her touch had him walking around
hard when he needed to have his mind on running Jefferson Unit
instead of in his pants. Or hers.

There was so much to do
that any time he took for himself felt like slacking, but that
didn’t mean he was
always
going to say no. Who in his ever fucking right
mind could say no to Rosie?