Bone Rider (40 page)

One of the soldiers managed to stop his own descent and Riley caught the other one before he could tumble into the gorge, but by that time the ridge above them was already lined with more troops in full battle gear, all of them aiming down at the exhausted quartet at the bottom of the cave.

“Hostage?” Andrej muttered hopefully with an appraising look at the coughing soldier clinging to Riley’s arm.

“Are you suicidal?” Kolya asked seriously, and reached out slowly and carefully to push down Andrej’s gun hand until the weapon was pointed at the floor. “Nobody sneeze now,” he added under his breath. It sounded like a prayer.

Misha was trying to sneak between Riley and the threat again. Riley snagged his belt with two fingers and unceremoniously tugged him back. In his head, McClane yelled at him for putting strain on only recently patched injuries with all that grabbing and pulling and saving people, and started to fix the damage frantically. It felt like the little fucker was jabbing him with a million needles. Riley sucked in a sharp breath and let go of the soldier, who scrambled away immediately, groping for his sidearm.

If he falls in now, we’re letting him
, McClane bitched, a thin veneer of sarcasm over a whole lot of panic. He might’ve been willing to die for his freedom, but he really, really didn’t want to die. At all.
Whoa. Shit. Big guy, twelve o’clock.

Riley turned his head and swallowed. The man in black fatigues who’d moved in position right above them on the ridge stood a head taller than the rest and looked like he’d been hewn from stone, all hard angles and rock-solid muscle. Not exactly a spring chicken, but not that far from his prime, and from the wound on his head and the way Misha swore under his breath when he saw him, Riley gathered that he’d been there at the diner and had run afoul of Riley’s rescue party. It certainly would’ve explained the dirty look he was giving Misha.

“I see you made friends,” Riley muttered, trying to hide the fact that he was scared shitless, because
damn
. Those were a lot of guns, and this time there wasn’t even a flimsy wood counter to hide behind.

Misha didn’t look impressed, but then this was probably just a variation of his normal work routine. Minus the helicopter chase and the military involvement, Riley hoped.

“You pissed them off first,” Misha rumbled back, and shifted closer as though he couldn’t help himself. “Is it too late to lose the alien?”

You want me to jump into Clumsy here?
McClane offered wryly.

They eyed the soldier closest to them appraisingly. The soldier looked back, caked in dirt, nonplussed, clearly spooked by the silvery lenses over Riley’s eyes to the point that his gun was wavering uncertainly, and none too happy to be the center of their attention.

“Nah,” Riley muttered, “we’re good.”

“Hey!” the giant called out as if he’d heard McClane’s suggestion or maybe had interpreted their stare correctly, and when they turned back toward him, he was aiming a grenade launcher at them. The missile poking out at the end made McClane curse creatively.

That’s the thing that killed the others
.

“Awesome.”

Riley ground his teeth. They were going to get crispy fried. What a way to go. Misha was plastered against their side now and they didn’t move away because, irrational or not, Misha’s unwavering presence made them feel safer.

“Come up here. Slowly,” the giant ordered. “I know you can understand me.”

What the…?

“Of course I can fucking understand you,” Riley called back, irritated. “I’m—”

“Stop pretending. I know what you are. Come peacefully and we’ll let you live. One funny move and I will kill you where you stand.”

“Like I started this,” Riley muttered. “Give us a minute!” he called up.

Misha made a sound that was a weird cross between a sigh and a groan. “That explains it. He thinks you’re McClane. That’s why the fucker blew up the diner.”

“If I were McClane, I’d be halfway down that hole by now,” Riley grumbled, ignoring McClane’s hopeful,
Still an option.

“That’s because McClane’s smarter than you,” Andrej chipped in helpfully, giving the soldiers a stunningly fake smile. He and Kolya were moving, slowly, trying not to call attention to themselves as they fanned out to the sides so they wouldn’t all be crowded together, one big target. “We’re all gonna die. I hate that alien. Riley, tell him I hate him.”

They’re going to cut us open
, McClane predicted in a small voice, still mending Riley’s body even though Riley could tell he’d have rather just clung to it like a frightened kid.
They’ll never believe you’re not under my control. They’ll think I contaminated you. Maybe they’ll think I laid eggs in you. Or that I’ll burst out of your chest. Or other gross things. They’ll—

“Shut up,” Riley ordered, chilled by the utter belief and gnawing horror in McClane’s voice. No surrender. Got it. “I’m not coming up,” he barked.

He knew he should, knew the only bargaining chip he had for Misha’s life was his compliance, but it wasn’t only him on the line. McClane was scared out of his mind and with good reason. Turning themselves in was not an option. The only thing left to do was to stall until Kolya and Andrej were out of the immediate line of fire and… well.

The giant lifted the grenade launcher. “You really want to go there?”

“You can’t fucking do this,” Misha yelled, fear and fury pressing his voice into a deep roar that echoed through the cavern. “He’s an American citizen, you fucking asshole. He has rights!”

For a second, the giant looked almost sympathetic, but it was such a fleeting expression Riley wasn’t sure he hadn’t simply imagined it. “The man you think he is, is dead,” he said with utter conviction. “Step aside. Put up your hands and surrender, and everybody will get to live. That’s more of a chance than you gave my men.”

“Just leave them be,” Misha pleaded.

It was the wrong thing to say. The giant’s eyes narrowed as he glanced between them. “Can’t,” was all he said, but Riley could tell that Misha had pretty much just dug his own grave by basically admitting he knew Riley wasn’t alone in his body. The giant leveled an icy stare at Riley. “Last chance.”

No surrender
, McClane whispered, clutching Riley so hard it hurt, his terror and fury a suffocating weight that made both of them sluggish and cold.
Kill them. Kill them or die. I vote kill. Kill them all
. There was another emotion there, then, slippery and hard to grasp. Something like shame. Something like defiance. Something bitter and hard like a poisoned bullet. McClane’s voice turned quiet, a soft susurration like sand sliding over a honed blade.
I did it before. I can do it again. At least I’m not alone this time
.

Riley breathed out slowly. He knew they
could
probably fight their way out of this, he and McClane. They could paint the cavern red and then walk out of there and keep killing until no one was left standing. Of course, Misha would almost certainly die in the crossfire. So would Kolya and Andrej. Riley didn’t want them dead. He wanted nobody dead. He wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t a soldier. He had too much blood on his hands as it was. The pilots he’d shot. The soldiers gone down with the helicopters. Too many of J.C.’s men. Misha’s father.

Riley didn’t want to fight anymore. They’d had a good run. Riley figured he could deal with having to die in a hole underground if it meant he got to be with Misha and McClane at the end. It was easier to be brave when you didn’t have to do it alone.

“Misha?”

“Yes?” Misha replied, tense and ready to commit violence, never taking his eyes off the soldiers above.

“Take Andrej and Kolya and go.”

Misha’s head whipped around, dark eyes wide with shock and sudden understanding… and then they softened in acceptance. “I’m not watching you die again.”

Riley opened his mouth, about to protest, but his voice died before he could say a single word. Jesus. The look on Misha’s face.
Do what you gotta do
, it said.
I’m right where I belong.
Scratched, bloody fingers tangled with his, warm and sure. After a second’s hesitation, Riley relaxed and clasped Misha’s hand in his. All right, then. All right.

T
HEY
were going to die and Misha was going to die with them and yet Riley was calm, so goddamn steady and brave in the face of the death, it hit McClane like a slap. Riley wasn’t Rik. He wasn’t wailing or babbling or willing to massacre everyone around in sheer hysteria. He wasn’t blaming McClane for not being good enough, strong enough, smart enough. Not the weapon he was supposed to be, nor the kind of armor that sacrificed itself for its host. The thought that McClane was supposed to protect him at any cost had never entered Riley’s mind.

Riley wasn’t thinking at all. He was….

… grateful that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Amazed by Misha’s devotion.

Happy to be with them, with Misha
and
McClane, because he’d loved Misha for a long time and he’d come to love McClane, too, and there was more than enough room in that big heart of his for both of them.

He was grieving for the people who’d died because of them.

Wondering how much it was going to hurt to be blown up.

Sorry that McClane hadn’t found the kind of host he’d wanted and was stuck with Riley now at the end.

And that… that was just… it was ridiculous. There couldn’t be a better host, not ever, not anywhere in the whole damn universe. There was only one Riley Cooper and McClane wanted him, with all his perfect imperfections, the insecurity and the stubborn pride, the poor conflict-solving skills and the laid-back open-mindedness that made the man such good company for an intelligent armor and weapons system with codependency issues. McClane didn’t even mind that this deal came with an external extension. Misha was a bonus. He made Riley all stupid and warm inside. McClane could appreciate that, because it was how Riley made him feel. He couldn’t imagine bonding with anybody else, anybody who wasn’t Riley. He couldn’t imagine leaving this man behind for anything.

For the first time, McClane understood why the other armor systems had died trying to save their hosts. This was
Riley
and the man who loved Riley with such crazy, bone-deep passion, and they were about to die because of McClane, erased from existence because they refused to abandon each other and McClane.

This wasn’t acceptable.

M
C
C
LANE
heard the soft click and hiss he’d come to associate with a missile being fired and had he had the time, he’d have been surprised that he recognized the pattern, could tell it was the same weapon that had killed his brethren by the wreck of the Widowmaker. Not the same kind. The same
weapon
. The same launcher. The same type of missile that had ended the lives of Jas and System Five, Kir and System Three, Cen and System Two. The same type of missile that had killed Rik, because McClane had faked attachment to his host and then abandoned him.

No need to fake anything this time. Riley wasn’t just a host. Riley was his friend, his partner, his other half.

Riley was
his
… and so was Misha.

McClane leapt forward, out through Riley’s skin, grabbed Misha and wrapped both men in an embrace of living metal. He put everything he had, everything he was, between the people he’d come to love and certain death, and when the warhead hit them and detonated, he absorbed the force and let it tip them over into the abyss.

“S
O
IT
’
S
gone,” the president summed up his general’s report, not even looking down at the folder in his hands. “Dead?”

Nick Young shrugged his broad shoulders. “You read the file, sir. We hit it with the amplified Spitfire. It fell into the ravine. The whole damn cave collapsed on it and almost on us, but we did find that map that indicates there might be an underground river there. If it isn’t dead or buried under tons of rock, it might’ve gotten out. There’s simply no way to tell at this point. We’re still digging.”

They’d be digging for years, at the rate they were going. The whole damn area was riddled with caves and tunnels, the ground too unstable for heavy machinery. Trying to find a dead body in that mess was like trying to find a soggy lentil in a bathtub of pea soup; mental image provided by Chief Cabrera. Thanks, Chief. Talk about disgusting.

The Commander in Chief leaned back in his big leather chair and steepled his fingers. “There was no other choice?”

“It wasn’t going to come quietly,” Young said calmly, not moving an inch. “We could’ve let it go. We could’ve tried to overpower it and lost most of our people in the process. Maybe all of them. Or we could’ve cut our losses and tried to destroy the alien technology. I made the call. I stand by my decision.”

Nobody could’ve known the area happened to be that unstable. Or that the goddamn survivalists had a munitions cache in the cavern next to that one. As though the cave-in wouldn’t have been bad enough without the added explosions.

“We could’ve learned a lot from that creature.”

The president sighed, clearly thinking of all those persuasive arguments Butler had written up when she’d gone behind Young’s back to rescind the kill order. Young could empathize. It had been a very well-thought-out report, neatly phrased, rational, and bluntly honest. He’d read it twice himself and it had made him feel like a moron for blowing up all that potential. Of course, he’d also signed all those letters to the families of the soldiers who’d been killed in the attempts to catch the alien, so his regrets at having pulled the trigger were kept at a minimum. He wasn’t about to say that out loud, though.

“We still might. We will either dig up the body or chase down the entity,” he offered instead. “And in the meantime, we do still have the other alien remains. Lt. Dr. Butler and her team are going to keep studying them. If anybody can figure out how those armor systems work, it’s her.”