Phoenix Rising (Book Two of The Icarus Trilogy) (55 page)

The former Crow started into a sprint towards the warriors.  They wouldn’t expect an act of aggression from the Hammerhead who was supposed to be fighting with them.  As he neared the three men in the sleek armor he saw one of them balk.  It was then that Roth knew that the game was up; they knew Percival had to be killed for them to complete their mission.  The former Crow raised his weapon and prepared himself for battle.

Roth was able to get off three shots with his pistol, well-aimed but shaken by the impact of his feet against the ground.  They struck the metal chest plate of the EOSF soldier on the left and staggered the man.  That was enough for the former Crow, so Percival chucked a grenade at the soldier.

“Incoming!” he could hear one of the thugs shout.  The two unaffected men were able to dive out of the way, which was expected, but the man Percival had shot stood there as the grenade bounced to his feet.  The Hammerhead was about to consider his job well on its way before he noticed the man regain his balance and drop to his knees.  Percival watched as the man grabbed the grenade and then threw it back towards him, which caused the Hammerhead to skid to a halt in the makeshift path.

The explosive ignited halfway between the two warriors and Roth knew he had his hands full.  Percival stood there in the steel meadow for only a second before he realized that the other two corporate soldiers had brought their rifles to bear and had only to pull their triggers to end the former Crow’s life.  The would-be hero dived to the right through a haze of bullets and landed hard against a broken slab of concrete.  It hurt, but he felt lucky to be alive.

The Hammerhead sat up and put his back against the hull plating which had saved his life and defended him against the deadly bullets coming from the EOSF.  He considered his options and realized he had very few at his disposal.  He looked down at his pistol, hit the release and counted the shells remaining.  He only had four; not nearly enough to deal with the three soldiers and the three others that were likely coming to support them.  Roth didn’t take another second to grab the RPG launcher from his back and loaded it with an incendiary grenade.  He only had one explosive after that one, but it didn’t much matter.  This was the way it had to be.

Percival supported the weapon over his shoulder as he popped out of cover.  The two thugs that had started to fire at him while he dove were now only twenty meters away.  They skidded to a halt as they realized what Roth was about to do, but an oil slick caused one of the soldiers to slip and fall, who in turn stopped his partner from being able to stop and turn.  Roth breathed out and blessed his fortune before pulling the trigger. 

The grenade screamed towards the two men and Roth could almost hear the soldiers echoing the sound before the explosive landed by the fallen soldier’s left arm.  A plume of flame erupted from the ground and Roth watched their limbs scatter in all directions.  He felt no pride in the act, only comfort that his task was almost complete.

Roth looked past the flames and noticed the three men by the transports running to support their still-living teammate and breathed out deeply.  That was when the bullet landed in his left arm.  He had forgotten about that other soldier and sincerely wished he hadn’t.  As he staggered backwards, Percival saw the man starting to advance to his position.  The former Crow grunted as he fell back down behind the hull plating and considered his options once more.  He had four pistol bullets and one frag grenade for his launcher.

He sighed as he attached the last of his grenades to the end of the launcher.  He had hoped to save it for the next group of opponents, but he couldn’t risk wasting his last few rounds on a long-distance target.  The former Crow breathed out, gathered his courage, and then rose above the safety of the hull plating.

The EOSF soldier had started to approach the lone combatant warily and when Roth decided to make his way out of cover the soldier noticed the launcher immediately.  Percival only had a moment before the corporate soldier would dive back to cover, but that was all he needed.  As the last of the trio threw himself to the ground Percival aimed for the false earth beneath the man.  The grenade flew towards the patch of dirt and Roth could tell that the EOSF soldier knew that he was already dead.  The grenade struck the ground beneath him and fragmented itself when the soldier was only half a meter above it.  For a split-second Roth could see a hundred tiny shards of metal strike the man, which caused the soldier to rise a few centimeters back into the air.

Roth turned, knowing that the soldier was already dead, and looked for the good doctor.  He had hoped the woman had made her way to the Entrance already, but he noticed that she was still a good twenty meters from safety.  He panicked as he realized the EOSF could send a stray bullet towards her and his promise to Jenkins would lie broken at his feet.  It was unacceptable.

The former Crow dropped the launcher, sprinted towards the woman and felt the wind whipping at his face.  He had never initiated a full sprint with the kinetic motivators without his helmet on and for a moment he wished he hadn’t.  The wind pulled at his cheeks and caused quite a bit of discomfort.  Roth shook the thought from his mind, knowing that a little discomfort meant nothing.  He had to catch up; he had to protect her.

That was his mission.

-

Laurence had made his peace with the world.  If he was going to die, he was going to die on the right side of this war.  He had given up his freedom, his life and his daughter so very long ago.  The undercover agent had subsumed his wishes and dreams just so that humanity may have theirs.  It was a worthwhile pursuit; it was the most noble thing Laurence thought he could do.

He had to do something to make up for his crimes.

Laurence had seen too many atrocities,
committed
too many atrocities, for him to think that his life was his own anymore.  This was his penance; this was how he was going to make his life worthwhile.  Even if it did mean staining this hallway with his blood.

The infantryman looked around the north hallway.  Beds and desks and benches were riddled with bullets; some were blown apart by grenades.  He knew that Abrams was just beyond the corner, but the woman wouldn’t be able to fight in this coming battle.  The most she could do was throw a grenade as they retreated and hope one of the superb corporate soldiers was dumb enough to rush into his attack.  Laurence knew he couldn’t count on the woman, no matter how much he respected her.  She was no longer the soldier she had been.

Even so, he couldn’t have asked for better soldiers than the two that stood beside him.  Goldstein, that fellow revolutionary, was a decent shot if he actually tried for anything.  Laurence still didn’t have a handle on the man, but he trusted the former merchant with his life.  They were of the same cause.

To Laurence’s right was the giant.  Feldman had abandoned that useless machine gun of his and had taken up his sword once more.  As the older EOSF traitor looked over his comrade he had to marvel.  The behemoth was intimidating by any standard and Laurence knew that Feldman could destroy a man without a second thought.  It was disturbing to know that he could; it was comforting to know the giant was on his side.

“Shylock, what are the odds we’re getting out of here?” he asked the man to his left.  He didn’t bother to turn his head; he had been in too many trenches.  Laurence knew that enemies often attacked when their opponents were distracted, intentionally or unintentionally.  The older man heard a groan to his left and then a sigh.

“Don’t call me that anymore.  It’s too late for code names.  And just so you know, probably nil.  Smart money’s on them,” Goldstein said in his exasperation.  The former merchant would have wished for any other circumstance.  He hadn’t expected the EOSF to come knocking at their door.

“Not up to us to figure out our chances, gentlemen,” Feldman said to their right.  The giant could feel the blood seeping out of his side, but he wouldn’t let the two revolutionaries know anything about that.  No reason to lower morale just because he was going to die.  “Let’s focus on the task at hand.”

“Always so morose,” Goldstein said as he shook his head.  The merchant had never understood the giant, but he still looked on the titan fondly.  “Never thought you’d end up like this, did ya, Laurence?”

The EOSF traitor had to laugh at that.  Goldstein knew nothing about him; he didn’t know that warfare had been Laurence's life up until his guard duty on Eris.  He couldn’t blame the former merchant for that, but he still found it amusing.

“Oddly enough, Shylock.  I didn’t expect much different,” he said before breathing in deeply.  He had always known he would die in war.  It was only right.

The three of them were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a silhouette against the glass of the doors.  All three of them prepared for the worst; Laurence and Goldstein raised their weapons to eye level and Feldman brought his blade to the side.  They were about to spring into action before Charlotte burst through the door, chest heaving and ankle bloody.

“Oh, Jesus,” Laurence said before he lowered his weapon and rushed to the woman’s side, vaulting over pieces of cover like they were nothing; it didn’t seem like the soldier suffered from his age in the slightest.  The traitor found his way to the woman in seconds.  “What happened?”

“EOSF…. Outside….. have to…” she said between breaths, but between the pain and the exertion the doctor couldn’t string one sentence together.  The older revolutionary swept the woman up into his arms and then rushed back to the other end of the hallway.  She continued to make noises, but Laurence would have none of it.  It only mattered that he got her to safety.  As he ran he thought about his daughter; she’d be about the same age.

When he found his way to his fellow revolutionaries, Laurence motioned for them to get back beyond the corner of the hallway and into cover.  They weren’t going to have a conversation out in the open.  He set down the doctor by the corner and then looked her over while the other two men crouched down to hear what she had to say.  Laurence could tell that she was in pain, but there was no time to let her recover.

“What happened, doc?” Goldstein asked urgently.  Abrams saw the commotion and hurried over, interested as to what happened to the woman, and perhaps what had happened to the two Crows sent to save her.  Charlotte breathed out sharply and then let her head fall back against the corner, unable to completely ignore her pain.  Laurence stood above her and wished he had put her behind cover, but he didn’t have time for that.  For the moment he kept watch on the end of the hallway, expecting the worst.

“Jenkins and Cortes….. they…. They died….  I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said as she lowered her head to look away from her former patients.  The guilt from the deaths of her saviors was hitting her hard and she didn’t know if she could fully deal with it.  “The Hammerheads…. Three of them came….” she said, doing her best to let her fellow revolutionaries know what happened.  Abrams came to the woman’s side and set her left hand against the woman’s shoulder.

“It’s fine.  We understand,” she said softly, trying to console the woman.  Cortes’ and Jenkins’ deaths were a shock, but they were just two of many.  They would have to grieve later.

“There’s,” Charlotte said before swallowing in air.  “There’s EOSF coming,” she said, hoping that Roth would make it back before the corporate thugs.  She turned to look down the hallway in desperation but found herself filled with hope as she noticed a single silhouette against the windows of the door.  She let herself smile as Percival burst through the door with his pistol drawn. 

He had made it.

“Shit!” Laurence said as he noticed the intruder.  He had hoped that all of the Hammerheads had already died, but it seemed like this last one had followed the doctor from the clinic.  The older revolutionary had hoped Cortes and Jenkins had taken care of the situation, but he didn’t blame them.  War was unfair for many reasons.

As Charlotte turned her head from the doorway and heard the older man curse, her heart sank.  She hadn’t told them.  She hadn’t told them that Roth was one of them.

And now she was too late.

                -

Percival Roth burst through the entrance of the North Hallway and hoped that he would make it to the Crows soon.  He only had the four rounds left in his pistol clip and that wouldn’t be much help against three fully armored corporate thugs.  At the very most he could take out one.

He raised his head as he started to run through the hallway and what he saw was enough to break his heart.  Roth could see the broken, bleeding woman, his ward, lying at the feet of an EOSF thug.  Percival didn’t have time to curse as he realized that he had failed; he hadn’t counted right, after all.  There was at least one more EOSF soldier than he had realized and the man had made it to the North Hallway before him.  The would-be hero could see the man’s weapon pointed at the defenseless woman and felt an overwhelming rage.  Ryan Jenkins had died saving this woman; Hector Cortes had died saving this woman.  Percival Roth had delivered her into the arms of the enemy.

Roth wouldn’t have it.  He raised his pistol and promised to himself that he was going to remove the threats to this woman; this innocent doctor that his rival and idol had loved so dearly.  He had four bullets; enough to take care of one EOSF thug.  It was right.  It was just.  It was the universe telling him that this was how it had to be.

“No…. no!” Charlotte yelled from her position at the end of the hallway, but Roth chose to ignore the woman.  The good doctor didn’t want another death on her conscience, he knew, but this one couldn’t be avoided.  Roth was going to die for her.  It didn’t matter what she wanted.  He wasn’t going to let Jenkins’ death be wasted.

                -

Laurence raised his rifle and rushed towards the man.  He wasn’t going to let that last corporate slave kill the woman that two men had died for.  It just wasn’t going to happen.  It went against the revolutionary’s very code.  There would be nothing wasted.