Redemption Protocol (Contact) (85 page)

She dimly sensed someone cutting part of her suit away.

“She's hurt down this side. We need to deal with it before we move her.”

Stephanie's face filled Weaver’s vision. Weaver tried to recoil in horror. Stephanie's left eye was missing and the skin of her left cheek was a mass of blistered sores. Stephanie practically spat her words.

“Apparently you are the most valuable thing left in this place.”

Weaver squinted up at Stephanie. Stephanie’s face distorted as her lip curled in contempt.

“What kind of idiot doesn't keep their helmet on?”

Weaver frowned at Stephanie's disfigurement.

“What happened to your face?”

Stephanie looked furious as she rose up out of Weaver’s sight.

“This is her. She's the one we need. Let's go.”

“One minute. We don't want to lose her.”

Weaver's head swum. She felt like she was groping around a dark room for the light switch. It occurred to her that Stephanie was in danger.

“Go while you can Stephanie. Havoc's right behind me.”

Stephanie's awful face reappeared. Her blisters wept down her cheek.

“Nice try. We dropped John hours ago. He's dead. The bastard deserved it.”

“He's here, honestly.”

“Shut up.”

“I'm trying to help you.”

“Shut up! Try to help yourself you stupid bitch. God knows what they'll do to you when they get you back to the ship.”

Weaver’s head fell back, exhausted from the exchange. She felt cold. A draft blew down her right side.

“Her vitals aren't good.”

“Let’s get her in the bag.”

Weaver didn't like the sound of that. She was worried from side to side like meat on a butcher's slab. A transparent bag was drawn up her body and under her head. A clear disc was zipped over her face. Someone grabbed her ankle and dragged her forward a little. Her head bounced off something.

Towering over her were two United Systems commandos and Stephanie. Weaver felt like a child lying on her back and looking up at three skyscrapers. She thought she was going to pass out.

“Stephanie, run.”

The demonic face swooped down toward her.

“I told you to shut up you stupid little––”

Blood spatter covered Weaver’s bag.

Weaver tried to focus. Two of the skyscrapers toppled outward. Stephanie took a step back.

“It can't be,” Stephanie protested.

Weaver watched Stephanie's face. She'd tried to tell her.

Why didn't people listen?

 232. 

“Weaver, can you hear me?”

“Nope.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.”

“Good. That's good.”

“Thank you.”

“We're getting you out of here.”

“I know.”

She loved Havoc’s chestnut eyes. He smiled at her.

“You have a beautiful mind, Weaver.”

He must be scanning her. She tried to give him a knowing look but her face wasn’t working properly.

“I know. I'm unique.”

His eyes shone, interested and curious.

“You
are
unique, Scientist.”

“You don't want me just for my mind, do you, Soldier?”

He chuckled as he moved out of her vision.

Stephanie's voice came from the side.

“Don't fucking move or I'll kill you both!”

“I'm just going to adjust these fluid bags, Weaver. They need to go in the container before I move you or they'll freeze. Ok?”

Her eyes tracked slowly sideways.

“Yep.”

“Don't fucking ignore me!” Stephanie shrieked.

“Ok, I'm putting them in now.”

“Bring that bitch back to my shuttle.”

“We’re nearly there, Weaver.”

“I'm counting to three, John. One.”

Havoc's voice sounded flat and disinterested.

“Stephanie, don't.”

“Ha! Now you're listening.”

“I won't say it again.”

“Two.”

“Alright, Scientist, I'm going to sit you up for a second.”

Weaver felt herself float up then Havoc leaned her gently against a broken seat. He was very tender with her. Stephanie came into view. She was pointing one of the big United Systems commando guns at Havoc's back. Havoc ignored Stephanie as he watched her, concern in his eyes.

“Ok, we’re nearly ready to go.”

She blinked slowly.

“Erm, Stephanie is pointing a gun at you.”

He checked her eyes.

“I know. Don't worry.”

“Quite a big gun actually.”

“They gave you a heavy shot of trxcilrene.”

“Not a big as yours.”

“It will wear off soon.”

She giggled and tried to put her hand over her mouth.

“Oops.”

“You might feel cold and maybe a little scared. There’s nothing to worry about, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I'm not fucking joking, John. Listen to me! Three! Fucking three! You're both fucking dead if you don't bring her!”

“Ok, I'm going to lift you now. I'm going to give you a sedative to help you sleep while I move you. You need to rest.”

“Die you bastarddd!”

There was an explosion from behind Havoc.

Havoc stood and turned, clearing the view for Weaver as he did so. Stephanie sat with a shocked expression. She had a big hole ripped out of her suit like a gingerbread man with a bite out of him. Her gun hit the floor with a clang. She panted hard.

“Help me.”

Havoc looked down at Stephanie.

“Anti-tamper. United Systems commando weapons are slaved.”

Stephanie grimaced. Tears beaded in her good eye and rolled down her cheek.

“Help me.”

Havoc’s demeanor was cold.

“I told you to stop.”

“Help me, John.”

Havoc regarded Stephanie. Weaver frowned. At least Havoc wouldn't do what he’d done with Ekker. They’d spoken about that. Havoc lifted his gauntlet.

“All your intel.”

Stephanie glared at him. Havoc’s face was impassive. He didn’t care. Stephanie lifted her arm and tapped her hand against his.

Havoc shook his head and tutted.

“I said all of it.”

A look of pure hatred flashed across Stephanie’s features. Weaver found it frightening. Stephanie tapped Havoc’s hand again as she coughed a mouthful of blood down her front.

“Now help me, John.”

Havoc lifted his arm and shot Stephanie in the face.

Weaver blinked.

Havoc crouched down in front of her.

“Ok. It's time to go.”

Weaver felt numb. She couldn't summon more than mild disapproval as she whispered to him, fading.

“You just shot your ex in the face.”

Havoc nodded.

“Sometimes you just have to move on.”

~    ~    ~

Weaver felt Havoc swing her up in his arms. He stepped down over some debris, maneuvering her carefully. She felt cold. All she was wearing was some torn thermals and a plastic bag. He'd given her a sedative. She knew she'd pass out any second.

She looked up at him. Her voice was sluggish.

“I'm cold, Havoc. I don't feel right. I feel ill.”

She felt warm air blowing into the bag. His massive arms cradled her close. He looked down at her and smiled.

“Don't worry. I've got you.”

Reckoning

 233. 

Havoc deposited Weaver in one of the two remaining cabins in front of the Colosseum by the library.

The United Systems shuttle stood next to the cabins. Weaver would probably find that odd when she woke up. Havoc had crashed the shuttle system and overwritten it with an Alliance protocol so that Weaver could fly it. He exited the lock and strode away from the cabin.

It was time for him to do what he’d had to do since he’d discovered Forge's new identify. He felt it in his bones and in his blood. He approached the orbital missile battery. The sky burned on the horizon. He gazed at the approaching dawn. It felt right.

He turned his attention to the orbital missile battery. He chuckled. Stone would love this. What he was about to do was pure Dutch McDaniels.

Sixteen missiles each provided orbital lift for sixteen delivery packages of eight destination warheads. One hundred and twenty eight warheads in each missile. Except, in one missile: fifteen delivery packages, one hundred and twenty warheads and one John Havoc. A rhyme played in his mind, 'As I was going to St Ives, I met a man with seven wives...'

A quick exit, they called it. It either worked or it didn’t. He’d been a dead man walking for eleven years. Might as well get it over with, one way or the other.

He released the most accessible missile so it lifted partially out of its launch tube. He accessed its guidance and crashed it with a little mild overcoding. Flight stability was the key. He opened a panel as he updated the missile’s manifest. Stacks inside the missile revolved and lifted. A delivery package emerged.

He lifted the delivery package off its rack and lowered it to the ground. He opened the container and lifted out its full complement of eight warheads. He regarded the cramped space. He replaced the empty container back on the rack. Disappointingly, it looked as small as it had on the ground.

He lifted his head and looked at the horizon. His wife and kids were out there. Maybe he would see them soon. He shook his head to rid himself of such nonsense. He had to get there first. Might as well get it over with.

He realized why he was hesitating.

This was his point of no return. If he launched himself upward he was dead. He would never have hesitated before. He looked at the Colosseum. At the shuttle. At the cabins. His gaze lingered on the cabins.

He looked back down at the empty package.

 234. 

Weaver opened her eyes in unfamiliar surroundings. She felt a lot better. She was in a cabin. An Alliance cabin.

She’d been woken by vibration – lots of it. Despite the dampening effect of the shocks the cabin rattled around her. There was a thundering boom. What was going on? She pushed herself up on one arm. She was wearing new thermals, carefully cut to allow three dressings down her right side. She felt a twinge of embarrassment.

“Havoc?”

No answer.

The cabin shook. Booming noises rolled over her like salvos from a ship of the line. She sat up and activated the wall screen. The orbital missile battery opposite only had one missile left. There was a terrific crack as a detonation at the base of the launcher blasted the giant missile forty meters into the atmosphere. As it shot upward the bottom of the missile lit and the flame grew rapidly into a bulbous teardrop of explosive combustion. The missile seemed to hang in equilibrium for an instant before it shot away.

Smoke drifted from the battery. There were no missiles left. They had all been fired. It didn’t make any sense.

“Havoc?”

She was in the cabin by the side of the Colosseum. She had no idea how she’d got here. She remembered the cockpit of the Alliance shuttle exploding and not a lot else. There was a shuttle next to the cabin that she’d never seen before. It had United Systems markings on it.

Despite the terrible feeling growing in her stomach, she forced herself to work methodically through the options. Well he's not in the Colosseum, she thought. He can’t get in there without me. So he’s either outside, doing something out of sight, which is not impossible, or... She looked at the cluster of bright dots high in the atmosphere.

She cast up to the Alliance platform via the cabin relay.

“Disc six, Alliance platform. Anybody there?”

“Weaver?”

“Touvenay? Are you ok up there?”

“We lost the
Intrepid
. The EOS
Brilliance
destroyed it. They tell us they may seize our disc.”

Weaver reeled.

“Why would––”

“But that isn't our biggest problem.”