Forever Until Tomorrow (War Eternal Book 5) (16 page)

Lyle fell away, and the door flew inward. Mitchell's rifle belched another volley, tearing into the soldiers, dropping them before they could react.
 

"There are too many," Lyle said. The wounded soldiers were still moving, still trying to fight.
 

Too many? Mitchell didn't accept that. Would never accept that. He suddenly felt a cold chill wash over him. Death. Destruction. Silence. Loss. Billions.

He approached the outer door. The soldiers beyond it were silent. Waiting. There had to be more coming from inside, looking to push them out or keep them trapped and easy to kill. He checked the rifle, noting the counter on the side of it. Fifty rounds. He would have to be judicious.

Four gunshots rang out behind him, Lyle finishing off the wounded soldiers at their backs.

"I need you to open the door," Mitchell said.

"What are you planning?" Lyle said. "You have a look in your eye."

"Just open it."

Lyle moved into position. "I'm starting to second guess the crazy part again."

"Do it."

Lyle yanked the door open. Mitchell pivoted away from the wall, taking quick aim at each of the soldiers. They were like a stone wall, out in the open, their aim disrupted by his surprise assault. He hit one in the face, another in the chest, rushing out into the open air to meet them, bullets chewing up the ground and passing by his ears so close he could hear their screams. The soldiers toppled over like dominoes, their lack of strategy and willingness to die confounding him.
 

Then he was free, through the mess and out into the night. "Lyle," he shouted back, kneeling down to examine the soldiers.
 

Lyle came running out of the room, shooting back into it, at the same time Mitchell found what he was searching for. He pulled the puck from the soldier's belt and threw it into the room, ducking away from the following explosion.

"Oh man," Lyle said. "What the hell is going on here?" He knelt down beside one of the soldiers. "This is Campbell. He's S.W.A.T."

"These are police?" Mitchell said.
 

Lyle looked stricken. "Yeah."

An incoming whine stole their attention, reminding them that they weren't safe yet. Mitchell turned and raised his rifle, getting a bead on the drone. It was diving straight at them, only a few hundred meters away and closing fast. It didn't have another missile, but it was a missile.

Mitchell opened fire. Bullets peppered the drone, finally hitting the central fan. It snapped with a loud crack, and the machine lost control, rolling over and tumbling. Mitchell felt arms around his waist, and then he was on the ground. The crashing drone passed a foot over his head before slamming into the ground and smashing into the building behind them.

"Thanks," Mitchell said as Lyle let go of him. "There are still two more."

Lyle crawled on his hands and knees back to the downed soldiers, grabbing another rifle. The remaining drones were dropping toward them, trying to make up for the failure of the first. Lyle was motionless on one knee, holding the rifle remarkably steady as he tracked them.
 

A crack echoed across the sky, and the first drone plummeted like a stone. A second crack and the other one joined it, crashing to the ground four hundred yards away.

"Nice shooting," Mitchell said.

"I won the National Corps Rifle Competition three years in a row," Lyle replied, getting to his feet.
 

"Lucky for me. Let's not frig around here."

They ran toward the street, making a beeline for the unoccupied black cars, reaching the first in line.
 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Lyle said as they drew near.

"We don't have a choice. They'll send reinforcements."

"Not that way," Lyle said, pointing back down the street to where his car was waiting. "No AI in that one."

They changed direction once more, sprinting for the vehicle.
 

"Odds are they'll send more drones," Mitchell said as they reached the car. "We need to get them off our asses."

"We'll go somewhere that they can't follow," Lyle replied. "I have an idea." The car came to life, and he spun it into a sharp u-turn. "When we get there, you can try to convince me why I shouldn't kill you myself and put an end to this madness."

Lyle's idea was to drop the car on a street corner outside of the St. Louis Metro station, a combination hyperloop and maglev depot sitting right near City Hall. The drive was easier than Mitchell anticipated. No new unfriendlies joined them on the streets or tried to slow their progress.

They didn't speak much during the ride, as they both tried to process what had happened. Mitchell knew there had to be a reason for it. A reason for everything that had occurred. Police who were members of the AIT? Who stood in the open and let themselves be shot? Who shot one another? The suggestion was that they were disposable. Tools instead of people. But how had they come to believe that about themselves? Was the AIT brainwashing them that thoroughly?

He imagined Lyle was wondering the same thing. When he looked over at Lyle, the Marine's face was stone, a look Mitchell recognized instinctively. A man who had a lot to feel and think and say, but couldn't find an approach to expunge any of it. He knew he had been there before, even if he didn't know when or why.

They abandoned the car on the street, keeping their eyes on the air as they crossed over to a massive escalator down into the underground station, spilling out onto a floor filled with hundreds of travelers and eighteen different ways they could move.
 

They had escaped.

Had they been allowed to escape?

"I set up a flag on my stream manager," Lyle said as they reached the bottom. "We're in deep shit."

Mitchell could tell the man was angry with him. That he wanted to blame him. Why not? He was an easy target, and he couldn't prove that this wasn't in some way his fault. He shouldered the blame with an ease he found disturbing. He had lost people before.
 

Billions.

"What kind of shit?" Mitchell asked.

"Those cops that were back there? They've issued a bulletin for your arrest in connection with them." He paused, working to contain his emotions. "And mine."

"Are you serious? What about the rest of the soldiers? What about witnesses? It can't be that simple."

"It doesn't need to be simple. Someone saw us there. Maybe someone saw you shooting the S.W.A.T. guys. I don't know. The bulletin is going out federally. That means FBI, Homeland Security, the whole deal."

"He's manipulating the system."

"Watson?"

"Yes. If he has access to Police computers, he could have sent the team after us. He could be pushing the bulletin out." Mitchell glanced at a small lens on top of a translucent billboard. "He could be watching us right now."

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" Lyle said.
 

"War," Mitchell replied without thinking.
 

"I'm not in the service anymore."

"Once a Marine, always a Marine," Mitchell replied. "Whatever is going on here, it isn't good for innocent people. How many do you think were killed or injured when Evelyn's apartment got hit?"

"Evelyn, for one," Lyle said. He paused. "Damn."

"What it is?"

"I set a hook to alert me to anything coming out of Norfolk, or anything having to do with Major Asher.".
 

"You just got something?"

"Yeah. Hot off the wire. Seems there was a firefight in a hospital there." His eye flicked back and forth as he read. "Six dead, including two soldiers nobody could I.D."

"They went after her?" Mitchell said.

"It sure seems that way. The question is, why?"

"Maybe they want her dead for the same reason I want to talk to her. She knows something that I'm not supposed to find out."

"She wouldn't be able to tell you anything if you were dead."

"You think they tried to hit me and failed, and that Major Asher was plan B?"

"Don't you?"

"It makes sense, but I'm not convinced it's that straightforward. This is the second time they've attacked her, and the second time they didn't manage to finish her off. Is she just that lucky, or is there more to it than that?"

"You think there's another player?"

"I don't know. If my memories were wiped intentionally, someone had to do it."

"You're sure it was intentional?"

"I'm getting more convinced every time someone tries to kill me."

"Me too. It's one thing to hack a car. It's something else to send a military unit into a civilian living complex and blow the shit out of it without anyone batting an eye. Whoever Watson is, he's in deep. I wasn't sure about his connection to the AIT before, but I am now. Two separate attacks at almost the same time? It isn't coincidence, and someone has to be at the top of the stage, pulling the strings."

"I'm sorry you got mixed up in this."

Lyle shrugged. "Me, too. My wife is going to divorce me for this."

"Maybe she would understand?"

"Assuming we figure all of this out and I don't die?"

"Yeah."

Lyle laughed. "You haven't met my wife." He stopped in front of a ticket kiosk. "We need a ride to Norfolk. We can grab a maglev to New York City, and then transfer in Grand Central."

"How are we going to buy the tickets? The second you use your account they'll know exactly where we are."

Lyle produced a card from his pocket. "Why do you think I was gone so long? I had a feeling that if the cab AI wasn't safe, the banking system might not be either."

"I thought nobody uses physical currency?"

"Nobody uses money, but not everyone has access to AR glasses, or wants to wear them. This is a secured link to an online vault where currency is registered. Useless on its own." He turned his wrist over. "There's a chip under my skin that's been paired with it. If you wanted to steal money from someone, you would need to get his card and cut off his hand. That's a little too much blood for small-time crooks, and more professional criminals prefer digital attacks."

"So the card is anonymous?"

"Pretty much. Though now that you mention it, I think New York to Norfolk is going to be too suspicious. We should take the long way around."

"Long way?"

"St. Louis to Chicago. Then a ride from Chicago to L.A. Then a car to San Francisco, and another ride somewhere on the East Coast. Maybe Boston or D.C."

"How long will that take?"

"It would be better if we could fly, but security is too tight on air travel. A couple of days?"

"We don't know if Major Asher has a couple of days."

"They're going to have so much security on that base, I don't think even Watson could get through it."

"You may be underestimating."

"You may be overestimating. We have to take our chances. We take too straight a shot, I guarantee there will be a welcome party waiting for us when we get there. The only question is whether or not it will be AIT terrorists or Federal Marshals."

Mitchell wasn't happy with the idea of taking such a long route, but Lyle had a point. A good point. If Major Asher were in trouble, it wouldn't help to get captured or killed before they could reach her.

"You don't think an anonymous card will stand out?"

"Ten percent of transactions," Lyle said. "Even if they guessed we came here, even if they guessed a pretty accurate range of time, there are three thousand people here at any given moment. That's three hundred similar purchases. They would have to investigate all of them."

Lyle put the card against the kiosk.

"How can I assist you?" the AI asked.

"Two tickets to Chicago," Lyle said.

"Of course. One moment. Do you have an AR transfer id?"

"No. Solid state, please."

"One moment. This transaction has been written to your card. The shuttle leaves on track twelve in thirty-five minutes. Have a nice day."

Lyle put the card back in his pocket. "See? No problem."

Mitchell nodded. He wanted to believe things would be easy, but he wasn't convinced.

Not when he could feel the growing silence of a billion dead souls as if it were an inevitability.