The Glorious Becoming (70 page)

The trek back to the surface was anything but clean. Even with
Cairo
’s primary focus back on Confinement, a solid concentration of their defense force was trailing Scott and his escapees. Scott had been blocking out the fact that he was killing human beings for the sake of the task at hand, but his stomach was gradually reminding him of the fact.

Perhaps it was fatigue, or perhaps
Cairo
was regaining its footing, but the crop of guards and operatives that were converging on them were getting decidedly more apt. Skidding around corners and firing behind them over their shoulders, every member of the escape team sans Ju`bajai was firing relentlessly. Not even that was enough to save them all. Another one of the Numbers—Two—had taken a clean shot to the neck from either a sniper or an extremely lucky operative. The slayer was killed instantly, leaving Scott with only One and Four remaining of his backup. Others, while not shot fatally, had taken more than their fair share of close calls, grazes, or non-fatal wounds. Even Scott had been clipped, his armor being pierced several times along his thigh and shoulder. No pain was associated with any of the injuries—adrenaline was in full swing. Auric, One, Four, and Centurion had taken the brunt of the beating, being positioned between the pursuers and the unarmored Esther, Jayden, and Ju`bajai. Bloodied and battered, they still moved.

Then the shot Scott had been dreading took place. He didn’t see where it had come from or who had released it. He only saw Centurion stutter-step awkwardly, a mist of red puffing from the side of the Ceratopian’s neck. In the next second, the colossal alien lost his footing and toppled backward.

Scott slid to a halt.
“Cover him! Cover him!”
This was the crux of their operation—the whole reason they were there. Attempting to stagger to his feet, the fallen bodyguard was suddenly the focus of all EDEN firepower.
“Veck, cover him now!”

Leaping in front of Centurion, Scott raised his assault rifle and opened fire. Auric, One, and Four joined him on the front line while Jayden and Esther fired from behind them. Moments later, Four threw down his assault rifle and pulled out his sidearm. He was out of E-35 ammo. The rest of them weren’t far behind.

Scott’s mind raced.
We’re one turn from the elevator. Just one turn!
Going to his comm, he queued up Rashid. “We need immediate assistance! The package is down, I repeat, the package is down!”

“On our way!” the fulcrum answered.

A shot struck Esther in the shoulder. The scout cried and fell back. Jayden pulled her behind cover.

This was it. This was their mission. Sparing Centurion a glance, Scott watched as the alien struggled to scramble away. Every motion Centurion made was strained. Scott fired on.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Rat-tat-tat-click-click-click-click-click!

He was out of ammunition. “Sidearm, sidearm!” Jayden tossed Scott Esther’s handgun. Scott snatched it and fired. “Boris, do something. Do
anything
!”

The technician was frantic. “What can I do?”

“I don’t care what you do, just do it now!” It was a panicked response. There were no blast doors anywhere. Scott knew there was nothing Boris could accomplish to help them. “Faraj, hurry it up!”

“On our way, captain!”

Surging to his feet, Centurion staggered in adrenaline-filled lunges. The discombobulated alien beaded for the corner. Then, in a fall as long and thundering as a toppling oak, the Ceratopian collapsed forward. The ivory floor shook beneath their feet.

Veck! Veck! Veck! Veck!
“Pull him to cover!” Scott fired on as One and Four withdrew. Grabbing the massive alien, they strained to pull him to the corner. He barely budged.

A new awareness struck Scott—a connection. It was Ju`bajai. The next statement his mind registered made his face pale.

The Ceratopian is dying.

“No,” Scott said, his voice breaking. “No!” This was their everything—their evidence, their purpose, the thing they’d gone to
Cairo
for, that they’d killed for. This was Svetlana’s life. One turn away—they were
one
turn away!

Behind them, Rashid and the lone slayer who’d stayed with him on the surface emerged. Both men joined the defense.

On comm, Esther addressed Scott. Her voice was cracking. “Scott, Centurion’s not moving.”

“I know, Ess!”

A shot struck the slayer with Rashid. He stumbled backward then fell. A kill-shot. Moments later, Auric’s knee was taken out. The German screamed and collapsed.

Gunfire was peppering them. One by one, they were falling. And Scott had nothing. “God, save us.” It was all he could pray. “God, please save us.”

Centurion’s hand lurched upward—the giant’s palm pressed against the floor. Releasing a low, rumbling growl, he slowly pushed up.

Eyes widening, Scott said, “Get up. Get up, you tank, get up!”

As One returned to Scott’s side to fight, Four remained behind to aid the Ceratopian. Blood spurted from Centurion’s mouth in sporadic coughs. But the alien rose.

Scott got on the comm. “Pilot, fire up that transport and back it up to the elevator,
fast
!”

Centurion hobbled forward with Four’s assistance. Esther, out of the fight but not wholly incapacitated, propped Auric on her good shoulder. The rest of them—Scott, Rashid, Jayden, and One—were rapidly emptying their ammunition. Slowly, the group backed to the last turn.

The pilot didn’t affirm. Why didn’t he affirm?
Scott queued him up again. “Pilot! Are you getting this?” Nothing. “Boris?”

Finally, there was a crackle of reception. When Boris spoke, his voice was stoic and low. “Our pilot is dead.”

Scott and Rashid looked at each other. “Why is our pilot dead, Boris?”

The reply Scott received was through Boris’s signal—but the voice wasn’t Boris’s. It was Natalie’s. “Because I took his gun, and I killed him.”

“Are you
kidding
me?” Scott asked off-comm, shooting a glare to Rashid. “Who was watching her?”

The Turkish fulcrum cursed over the gunfire. “That would be the pilot.”

“How did a single woman disarm a Nightman pilot?”

“Because he’s a
pilot
,” snarled Rashid.

Moving back around the corner, Scott checked the progress of Centurion and the injured. The Ceratopian was limping into the elevator. Auric was being helped right behind him. Everyone else was ready to go. “Natalie,” Scott said as he engaged the elevator upward, “we’re on our way to you. Don’t shoot us.” He got no response. “Are you copying this?” Still nothing. “Veck,” he said under his breath. As much as Scott was frustrated at Rashid for leaving a pilot in charge, he knew the fulcrum wasn’t solely to blame. Scott had ordered immediate backup for Centurion’s extraction. The pilot and Boris were the only two left to watch Natalie while they were gone. That she’d disarmed a Nightman, pilot or not, was a testament to the level at which they’d underestimated her.

“How’s he holding up?” Scott asked, looking at Centurion. The Ceratopian was wheezing painfully. By the look of it, the shot to his neck had been solid. That Centurion was still kicking was a testament to the strength of both the species and the specimen. He had bullet wounds at virtually every unarmored point.

No one answered Scott’s question. No one knew.

The moment the elevator door opened, Four assisted Centurion outside. Far ahead, their Vulture transport awaited. Boris was clearly visible standing atop its open ramp—the form of Natalie was right behind him. She had a gun to his neck.

I thought a critically-injured Ceratopian was worst-case scenario. I was wrong.

Behind him, whispering in his comm from a hidden corner of the elevator, Jayden asked, “Sir, do you want me to hang back?”

Hang back? Why would I want you to...

...hang back...

Scott’s realization of what Jayden was asking was both sudden and awful. Jayden was offering to hang back to take a shot. Nothing about the way the Texan had asked the question was eager. It was asked out of necessity. If the situation became critical, was killing Natalie Rockwell actually on the table?

“Hang back, Jay, but not in the elevator. I don’t want it going down on you.”

Yes. On the table, it was.

Slinking to a dark corner to the side of the elevator, Jayden crouched and raised his rifle.

“Please stand down, Nat,” Scott whispered to himself. “Please.”

As they approached the Vulture, Natalie pressed her sidearm to Boris’s head. “No closer,” she said over the comm.

Lifting his hand, Scott signaled his team to stop. Natalie had already killed the pilot. He knew she wasn’t bluffing. “Let’s talk, Nat.” Even at their moderate distance, Scott could see her glare of revulsion.

“Who are you and why are you here?” she asked pointedly.

“I don’t have time to explain everything,” he said, holding a palm out. “But I can tell you this: we came to extract this Ceratopian with the purpose of uncovering a conspiracy in EDEN Command. My team was sent here to locate and take back the target.” Not two minutes ago, EDEN guards had been trailing them close from behind. At any second, that elevator would go back down.

As if on cue, the elevator doors closed.

Scat. I should have broken the panel.

Natalie was unwavering. “You’re a Nightman.” Scott wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. “Did Thoor send you here?”

“Yes. Yes, he did.” Forget minutes. Their time left could be measured in seconds. “Natalie, we need to get on that transport.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Quietly through the comm, Jayden said, “Sir, she’s completely behind Boris. All I’ve got is her head.”

Inside his fulcrum’s helmet, Scott was sweating. Reaching up, he unclamped it and took it off. He wanted Natalie to see his face. “Please. I am begging you. We need to get on that transport.”
Don’t make me kill her. Please, God, don’t make me kill her.

Jayden’s voice was shaking. “I don’t want to take it, but I can take it.”

Scott’s eyes were brimming. “Natalie, please, for God’s sake,
please
move.” The elevator would be down by now. And loading with operatives to come up.

“Come in, Lo,” Natalie said in her comm. The Australian affirmed.

God, forgive me. Please, God, forgive me.
“Take the shot, Jay,” Scott whispered. “Take it, now.” Closing his eyes, Scott braced. He couldn’t watch this.

Jayden’s breathing grew extreme.

Through streaming tears, Scott said, “Take it, take it, take it, take it.”

“I’m takin’ it.”

Scott looked down. “Oh my God.”

Suddenly, Natalie gagged. But no shot accompanied it. Eyes flying open, Scott looked up at the transport.

Natalie dropped her weapon—not to her side, but to the ground. Mouth open in agony, she buckled over and grabbed her head. Shrieks burst forth.

What in the world?
As Scott and the escapees froze, an urge struck him in his mind. He sensed that he needed to run to the ship. Now.

Ju`bajai.

“Stand down, Jay!” he hollered. The Texan already had; he was running full-speed to Scott. “Everyone, go, go, go!” Scott and the escapees, Jayden included, bolted for the transport. “Boris, what’s your plan?” He was the closest thing they had to a pilot. Leaping over the dead body of said pilot, Boris dove into the cockpit.

Scott’s gaze swiveled until he saw Natalie. She was right there in the middle of them, still clutching her head. “Let her go!” Scott instructed the Ithini. “Whatever you were doing, stop! Someone get her off the—” His request was interrupted as bullets ricocheted around the rear door. EDEN had caught up with them. Scott, Rashid, One, and Four dove to block Centurion from the volleys. Behind them, the gargantuan Ceratopian crouched as best he could; his frame blocked almost the whole bay. Natalie was pinned inside. “Wait—stop!” he yelled in a last-ditch effort to maneuver her out. But it was too late. Rashid’s palm slammed against the bay door button. As bullets dinged all around them, the door slowly rose.

Esther spun to Natalie, who was being pushed aside frantically by the close-quarters chaos. “Scott, she can’t come with us!”

“You think I don’t know that?” The Vulture’s hull popped with bullet fire. “Lower the...” The door? What kind of order would
that
be? Put themselves in the line of fire again? They’d just made it to the Vulture. Sticking with his original plan, Boris was engaging the autopilot. They were escaping.

In the midst of the calamity, Scott looked at Natalie. Her hair was mussed in every direction. Panic was flashing in her eyes. She looked totally lost. Yet even seeing that, Scott knew what would happen if they threw her from the ship. Not only would they be exposing themselves to more casualty or death, but EDEN would likely gun her down from afar. In the heat of a firefight, how were they to know she wasn’t one of them? And just like that, his decision was made. “Up! Up! Let’s go!” They’d just taken a hostage.

The Vulture’s engines kicked in—it lifted from the ground, its navigational computer piloting with perfect precision. Scott didn’t even know where they were going. “I hope to hell you have a plan, Boris!”

The technician’s hands were fast on his kit. “You cannot pursue when you cannot see.” A button was pressed, and the entire outer grounds of
Cairo
were plunged into blackness. The hangar, the airstrip, everything.
Cairo
went dark.

Cairo
Command was screaming. “21-79
Alpha, cease takeoff immediately!”

“Checkmate, good bye,” Boris replied through the comm. He clicked the channel closed.

From her cramped side of the troop bay, Natalie lifted her comm. “Logan!”

The Australian’s voice crackled through. “Natty! Where you are?”

“I’m on board their—”

Esther snatched the comm from Natalie’s grasp with her good arm. She slammed it to the floor and aimed her pistol at Natalie’s head. “Bad Venus.”