Project Northwoods (97 page)

Zealot wheeled about with a wide haymaker smash, but missed as Morgan darted to the side, slamming her weapon down on the back of his helmet. She carried through the blow, giving him the opportunity to shoulder-ram her backward. The heroine hit the ground and rolled to a stop. She looked up, blood dribbling from a broken lip. He took two bounding steps as he reached out to grab her. Morgan’s hand weakly stretched out but faltered as he wrapped his hand around her head and lifted her into the air. She sneered at his unflinching mask.

“Your mother was a useless whore,” he growled. He let go and smashed her in the head with his other hand, sending her flying. He took a breath. “Where was I?” Turning back to Ariana, he found the girl still crawling away. He stretched out his hands. “Come back here, dearest Elisa…”

“Get ready, Marsh!” Cleese shouted just before jerking the helicopter around in a sharp arc.

The search drone shot past much too close for comfort as Marsh leaned out of the moving chopper. It would only be a moment before the drone pivoted to face them, but a moment was all he needed.

“Insert heroic cliché here,” he yelled, squeezing the trigger.

Ariana flipped onto her back just as a fireball lit up the sky, distracting Zealot. In the orange light, she saw that the palm containing the blue liquid had cracked somehow.
Maybe Morgan tried to pull it out of there
, she thought, seeing the medicine and then… feeling its presence. Even though Zealot’s suit fucked with her head, she concentrated on it, willing it to change.

Zealot turned back to her. “Fireworks for the conclusion,” he cooed. With a hiss, the former medical cocktail entered his blood stream. “Now, it’s time…” he stopped. He twitched for a moment, then fell to his knees. His arm spasmed, and he unleashed a bloodcurdling roar. “What’s… happening?” he screamed at her.

She struggled to get to her feet as the man in the metal suit grabbed the offending gauntlet and ripped it off his body, bloody wires trailing behind it.

Mast kicked at Thanatos, shoving the two combatants away from each other as the helicopter blades pinwheeled between them. The second it was clear, they leapt once more at each other, the agent taking the mercenary down. They exchanged body blows before Thanatos yanked Mast upright. The woman in white cocked her arm back to strike, but her attention diverted to something approaching them from behind.

Thanatos released Mast and they dove to the right, dodging the blades in a roll. The two rose, and Mast connected with an uppercut, staggering Thanatos before she leapt in with a right cross, stunning her further. While she was stumbling backward, Mast planted a kick onto the mercenary’s kneecap, sending her to the ground. She knelt down and yanked Thanatos upright, slipped around to her back and held her in a half-nelson. It didn’t take long to hear the whirling blades approaching.

Mast whipped around, bringing Thanatos in front of the horizontally flying blades. She released the SERAPHIM, leapt into the air, and kicked her opponent into the path of Athena’s vengeance as she fell to the rooftop. The slick, meaty noise of a body being split in two was followed by a metallic crash as the blades lost their momentum.

The agent stood up and turned to the aghast Athena. Mast removed her final gun from its holster and strode toward the mercenary.

Athena screamed, long, sharp, and piercing. Mast was buffeted backward and nearly sent to her back. The rooftop erupted, gravel, ventilation systems, and shell casings whirling upwards. A shield of detritus swirled around Athena as she gestured outwards, blowing shrapnel at Mast. Stones bit into her face as the agent continued forward, fighting against the unnatural gale.

Zealot was tearing at his mask and armor, ripping chunks of metal off himself. Patches of pale skin in one spot contrasted with the nasty blackish-red lines working their way toward his heart. He roared in confused agony. “Pitiful bitch!” he cried, clawing at his face as Ariana grew closer. With startling speed, he got to his feet and tackled her, pinning one arm beneath her body. “I won’t die by the likes of you!” he hissed, thick rivulets of saliva gushing down his chin.

He was choking her, pressing his handless arm against her neck. “How do you like it?” she gasped, reaching up to his exposed neck and digging her nails in. He gurgled and pressed harder in response to her nails suddenly slick with blood. Ariana’s world was starting to go black.

His blood… she was acutely aware of his blood for the first time. Flowing out of his neck, down her hands. As the tacky gore slimed over her palm, she knew it, truly knew it, how it functioned… down to the plasma, blood’s mostly-water core. And as coffee dissolved into his system, cells exploding and dying at the introduction of this new, toxic element, she knew she could help the process along.

She wrested her other hand from beneath her body and jammed a thumb into his eye, Zealot screamed and staggered off of her to bring his stump to his face. Ariana scrambled backward, trying to free herself of the effects of his armor. Zealot recovered and leapt at her, but she darted backward and planted a kick on his nose, shattering it and sending a gush of blood onto the pavement.

A chunk of the helicopter whipped at Mast, and she rolled to the side. The wind was too strong to run or see clearly in, forcing the agent to move slowly through the smaller debris, arm up to protect her eyes as gravel tore into exposed skin. An air conditioning unit was the next impromptu missile to sail toward her. She dodged, only to be hit by the door to the roof access stairwell. The blow staggered her before she resumed her path.

One right after the other, the bodies of her agents snapped toward her. She dodged the first by rolling to the right, the second by leaping over it in a barrel roll. The next she had to collapse to her back and jump back up, only to be struck by the fourth. The fifth and final corpse she simply batted out of the way.

From behind the shrinking shield, Athena sneered and waved over the remains of the search drone, hurling it at Mast. It was too big to dodge around, but the hole in the middle from Zombress’s attack was a tempting alternative. The agent stepped to the side, braced herself, then leapt forward in a dive, clipping her head and raking her back against the jagged edge of the sparking husk as she did so. She got to her feet and continued forward with her gun up.

She fired once, twice, three times, and each time, something deflected her bullets. Athena smiled and sent another chunk of the helicopter sailing toward her.

Ariana scrambled upright as Zealot got to his knees, looking at her. Blood streamed down his face as he smiled, teeth pink. “This… this won’t bring any of them back…” He laughed, coughing up something. “All who walk the path of villainy… die like fucking dogs… like your mother… like Tim…” He licked his lips. “Like weak, impotent…”

With a scream, Ariana reared back and held her hands toward him, willing the rest of his blood to transmute into coffee. Zealot’s eyes went wide and he gurgled, going lax as he twitched before his body simply stopped moving. Tears rolled down her face as she looked at him, face frozen, almost peaceful in its permanent shock.

She was on him, beating his head over and over again with one functional fist, crying. “Bring him back! Bring him back, you motherfucker!”

Someone wrapped their arms around her and pulled her away. She fought against them, reaching toward the corpse if only to punish it more. “It’s over,” Morgan whispered, pulling her away from the man who had taken her life away.