Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (53 page)

“Outlaw pilot,” said the Chinese-accented man, “land your aircraft immediately.”

“Okay,” Tiffany said, guiding her targeting reticule directly over the Superwolf she was pursuing. The red missile lock indicator flashed, and she launched one of her short-range missiles ahead. The enemy Superwolf veered, to no avail. The missile struck, and the fighter exploded into an orange plume of smoke and debris.

Superwolves had space in their missile bays for eight missiles: two long-range, four short-range, and two air-to-ground, the latter of which would be of no use to her in this fight. Because the Superwolf she was in had used one of its long-range missiles in its confrontation with the
Pariah
, it only had one remaining, and being that she’d just used a short-range missile, she only had three shots remaining of those. For all practical purposes, she had four missiles of any variety left in this battle: one long and three short-range. She intended to use every single one.

Seconds after the first Superwolf exploded, the second swooped in behind her for an attack run. Tiffany pulled back hard on the stick, bringing her fighter up and curling away as streaks of orange flew past her. Not two seconds later, a short-range missile was fired.

Superwolves were not designed to combat other Superwolves, a characteristic that worked both for and against Tiffany and the pilots she was up against. They had no built-in missile defenses—no flares or chaffs or any other kind of countermeasures. They were designed strictly for the highly evasive maneuvers required to avoid plasma fire from Bakma Courier fighters. In that effect, Superwolves became their own greatest weakness, relying on sheer pilot skill instead of technological countermeasures to avoid missile strikes. And
that
was where the benefit fell to Tiffany.

EDEN short-range missiles, called
trident
missiles, were designed to be highly maneuverable, just like the Couriers they were designed to destroy. Tiffany knew this. If she tried to lose the missile with evasive action, she would suffer the same fate as the pilot she’d just downed. She needed to beat the missile not with changes in direction, but with changes in velocity. Slamming down the throttle, Tiffany sent her Superwolf soaring ahead, the sudden change in speed pinning her back into her seat. The missile matched her, as did the other Superwolf pilot.

Eyes narrowing behind her visor, Tiffany watched the missile draw nearer. “
Come on
!” Her hand tensed on the air brake. She waited for it to get just a little bit closer.

Close enough.

Pulling back on the stick, Tiffany yanked back the throttle and applied the brake, veering just as the missile closed the gap between them. It streaked past her, mere meters away from a direct impact.

The blonde shouted in triumph, banking the Superwolf hard in an effort to shake the pilot behind her. The trident missile looped around to make a second approach. Another missile lock, and for a second time, the Superwolf at Tiffany’s six sent a trident streaking her way. Gritting her teeth, Tiffany barrel-rolled to the left, slamming her stick hard right and hitting the airbrakes again after the last of three spins. The second missile, too, streaked past her to begin its looping second approach.

Enough was enough. Angling downward, Tiffany sent the Superwolf screaming toward the dunes that stretched across the desert surface. The Superwolf stayed in hot pursuit, weaving back and forth as its pilot continually attempted to gun her down with his cannons. Staying one turn ahead of him at each burst, Tiffany increased her speed as she approached a higher dune. All the while, her focus shifted from the pilot to the two tridents now streaking straight toward her from ahead. Weaving right then breaking hard left, the blonde turned into a desert valley at an angle just too sharp for the approaching-head-on missiles to match. They collided with the desert dunes just behind her within seconds of each other—but the rival Superwolf stayed hot on her heels.

Leaning back on the stick and going balls to the wall, Tiffany pointed the Superwolf’s nose to the sky for a straight vertical climb. As anticipated, the other pilot followed. Her hazel eyes narrowing, Tiffany held the stick steady as her Superwolf climbed.

If she could maintain this climb longer than the other pilot—which she was betting everything that she could—she could force him to follow her on an inverted loop pattern that would bring them both heading nose-first toward the ground at the end of the maneuver. She couldn’t go too high or too low, but at exactly the right height to end the loop at a point that was skimming the desert. It was dangerous, but that was the appeal. She didn’t believe the other pilot could do it. If it all worked out, he would either break off at the last minute or die trying to match her. Even if the pilot broke off in the attempt, she would immediately be placed in the role of aggressor. All she needed to do was loop around and get behind him.

Her missile lock indicator beeped again in mid-loop. Eyes darting to her tactical display, she saw two dots appear from the edge of her radar range.
Javelins
. Long range missiles. The other four Superwolves were in firing range. “Geez’um, Petes!” she said, refocusing on the task at hand in completing the inverted loop. She’d deal with the javelins when they got closer.

Pulling the stick back more, Tiffany went inverted. As the ground became her sky, her stomach threatened to upheave. Fighter ace or not, she hadn’t performed acrobatics like these at such intense velocities since the Academy—and she was one of the few pilots even permitted to try them. Behind her, the rival Superwolf stayed on course.

Time to do the deed. Continuing on her angled course to the ground, Tiffany watched as the sky gave way to desert hues of yellow and gold. Within seconds, she was doing a complete nosedive. In her mind, she wanted to scream to the other pilot, “Stay with me!” but the words couldn’t come out. Yellow hues became more defined as the shadowed peaks of dunes revealed themselves. She was getting close enough to the ground to make out details. For a split second, she thought she’d cut it too close.

She hadn’t. Just at the point where an impact seemed inevitable, the blue of the sky appeared at the top of her cockpit. The Superwolf’s nose turned up, and at a distance that couldn’t have been more than thirty meters from the ground, the fighter leveled off and began its ascent.

Checking the Superwolf that’d been tailing her, she saw that it’d broken off shortly after the first downward turn. Yanking the stick to the right, Tiffany hooked her Superwolf around at as close to a hairpin turn as the fighter could manage. As she came around, her opponent—also attempting a quick turnaround—came into view. But Tiffany had the edge. Guiding her reticle over the Superwolf, she launched a trident the moment she achieved missile lock. There was nothing the other Superwolf could do. Despite a quick attempt at evasive action as it came out of its turn, the Superwolf was struck on its underbelly, exploding as its burning remnants rained onto the desert.

Releasing a desperately held breath, Tiffany’s focus returned to her radar screen, where the two long-range javelin missiles were growing closer. Letting loose with a loud, “
Ugh
,” the pilot once again prepared to shake off impending death.

*
      
*
      
*

FROM THE COPILOT’S seat of the
Pariah
, Scott commed Lilan on their secured channel. “What’s going on over there?” No updates had been sent his way since they’d fallen back over the mountain. He and Travis
needed
to know the strike team’s status. Their ability to retrieve them and leave depended on timing and rapid action. This was already taking longer than he’d anticipated.

After several static bursts, Lilan’s voice crackled through. “—busted up pretty bad! Bell is down—” More static ensued.

“Colonel?” Scott asked, waiting several seconds to see if a reply came. “Colonel?” Slamming the microphone down, Scott shouted,
“Veck!”
He looked at Travis. “We need to get back there.”

Shaking his head, Travis said, “I think that’s jumping the gun. They’re gonna call us as soon as things get sorted out—”

“Listen to the comm, Travis!”
Scott’s blood pressure was through the roof. “We’re barely getting anything over these mountains! For all we know, they’ve got the job finished now.”

“That is
highly
unlikely.”

He didn’t want to hear it. Pointing back at the mountain, he said, “Bring us back over the top. It was a mistake to fall back like this.” They’d left everyone in the Fourteenth behind.

Still, Travis argued. “That’s going to completely give us away.”

“They already know it’s us!” That wasn’t even a question anymore. “Get over that ridge and get to our soldiers
now
—that’s an order.”

With bitter obedience, Travis raised the
Pariah
’s nose back up the mountainside.

*
      
*
      
*

“Tom, how you doin’?” Javon asked over the gunfire around them. Though he and Feliks had managed to hold their own up to that point, ammunition was becoming a major concern. Neither man could afford to stop firing without giving EDEN a chance to advance—their suppression had to be constant. They simply didn’t have the resources to maintain that kind of defensive pressure.

On the other end of the comm, Tom was almost hysterical.

Firing off another round then ducking back, Javon shook his head and said, “You gotta calm down, man, I can’t even understand you!”

“I said they comin’ in, man, what do I do?”
Tom finally yelled.

“Can he use the dead man’s hand cannon?” Feliks asked Javon without looking.

It took a moment for the thought to register. “Yeah!” said Javon. “That’s it, man.” He got back on the comm. “Tom, use Don’s hand cannon—give ’em something to fall back from.”

“I can’t use that, man!”

“You got to!”

*
      
*
      
*

Scrambling half-panicked to Donald’s body and with his eyes glued to his cousin’s imploded face, Tom pried the demolitionist’s weapon from his rigid grasp. Scooting quickly back into cover, Tom looked the hand cannon over. Two shots were already loaded—all he needed to do was shoot. Inhaling a sharp breath, he closed his eyes, prepared himself, then leaned quickly around the corner of the dish’s base.

EDEN was in mid-move toward Tom when he appeared. By the time the frantic soldier fired the first of his two subsequent shots, there was nowhere for the oncoming assailants to retreat to. EDEN operatives dove in every direction as the projectile soared at them, striking a soldier at the back of the group dead in the chest. The explosion that resulted sent his comrades flying.

Tom fired off the second shot, this one toward some of the operatives who’d fallen. The shot struck the ground, the flames from its eruption enveloping the desperate operatives who tried to flee on the ground. In one fell swoop—and a vastly unexpected attack—Tom had taken out a majority of EDEN’s second Vulture crew. Dashing back to Donald’s body, he hurriedly collected the rest of his cousin’s ammunition.

*
      
*
      
*

Thrusting his hands triumphantly into the air, Boris shouted, “I have the files!” The technician ripped the connective wires from the back of his hacking kit. “We can go.”

“About doggone time,” David said, lifting his comm to his lips. “Boris has what he needs! How we looking, demolition team? Tom, can you operate Donald’s detonator?”

After several seconds, Tom’s shaking voice replied. “I got it! I can do it.”

“Fall back to the facility, we’ll pick you up—”

“Man, I can’t fall back to that place!”
Tom said.

A second later, Javon chimed in. “There’s no way he can make it here, man, and we’re runnin’ out of ammo to protect him! Y’all’s ship gonna have to pick him up.”

David fought back the urge to scream. “All right,” he said simply. “Scott, you reading this?”

“Yeah,” Scott answered. “We’re on our way back to you guys now. Where can you meet us?”

This time, it was Valentin whose voice emerged. “There is an exit at the back of the facility. We will rendezvous with you there after you pick up Tom.”

“Affirmative,” said Scott. “En route to pick up Tom now.”

Closing the comm channel, David looked at Boris. “Good work, B. Let’s get back to the
Pariah
and get the hell out of here.”

“Sounds good to me!” the technician said. Tucking the kit under his armpit, he followed David out of the room, stopping briefly to search for the helmet that Valentin had taken from him. It was nowhere. “Typical,” he muttered, abandoning the server room for good.

Just farther up ahead, Valentin motioned for Pyotr to join Javon and Feliks in their defense, telling the young slayer, “Help them hold off EDEN until the Vulture arrives!” Pyotr affirmed, bolting down the hall toward the front of the facility. Valentin looked at the injured Lilan, then at Jayden. “As soon as they retrieve the soldier outside, we will—”

The lights around them went out. The three men were thrust into darkness. Jayden leapt up as Valentin looked around in all directions.

“What just happened?” Jayden asked.

A loud, piercing ring emerged as amber emergency lights flashed throughout the halls. Above their heads, a row of ceiling sprinklers descended from their housings. Water rained down from above them. Though protected from the wetness in their Nightman armor, the spray created a veritable fog down the halls. Footsteps emerged from the south as David and Boris appeared. “What is going on?” Valentin asked the technician.

Boris shook his head desperately, wiping his soaked hair back and out of his face. “I do not know. Someone has accessed the facility’s emergency systems.” Flipping the hacking kit open, he tried to access the base systems himself.