NOBLE could smell the smoke residue, the hint of death from a few days earlier. The taste lingered in his mouth—a reminder of everything they’d lost—even after he had boarded the Sea Serpent.
The clatter of metal on metal echoed through the cargo bay as Diego’s men performed last-minute gear and armor checks. They gathered around the gunship, waiting for Noble to give them the green light.
Sliding his helmet over his head, he exchanged one breath of filtered air for another. Smoke was replaced by the rubbery smell of plastic. He cringed, longing for a breath of real air, unfiltered and raw. Soon you will have it, he thought, snapping the helmet into place with a reassuring click. He turned to face his men. Diego paced over to him flashing a thumbs-up.
“Captain, my men have been briefed. They’re locked, cocked, and ready to kill some Organics.”
“Excellent. Let’s get it done,” Noble shouted. He stepped to the side, standing shoulder to shoulder with Diego as the team filed into the belly of the Sea Serpent. Noble counted the helmets. Thirteen Special Forces soldiers, three X-90 pilots, and Kirt—the last NTC squad standing against an enemy army that had traveled billions of miles to get to the planet.
Horrible odds.
No.
Impossible odds, Noble thought, but that’s why we have the RVAMPs. Now, if we could get one good shot. Just one. It’s all we need to take down the entire Organic network. Then we could return to the GOA and search for a new home. He brightened at the idea, stifling the emotion before he let it cloud his judgment.
The last of the footsteps faded as the soldiers disappeared into the belly of the helicopter. Noble hesitated at the edge of the ramp, staring at the RVM device that Ort had bolted to the metal door.
Would it disguise them long enough to get to Cheyenne Mountain? The question was one he hadn’t considered. There were so many other things that had required his attention that the actual trip to Colorado was one of the last things on his mind.
But there was no question he had an obligation to the Biosphere team, to evacuate them and get them to the Sunspot at Offutt. They had provided him with the technology for the RVAMP and RVM devices. If his mission failed, they would be humanity’s last hope. He had to help them get to Mars.
“Sir?” Diego said, pulling Noble from his thoughts.
“Let’s do this,” the captain replied. Without further delay he hustled up the ramp and took the same seat he’d sat in the last time they’d flown to Colorado Springs.
“Command, this is Sea Serpent. Preparing preflight systems,” the pilot said over the PA.
“Acknowledged, Sea Serpent. Lift is prepped and doors are open,” Irene replied.
The chopper lurched forward as the pilot maneuvered them toward the ramp. A bank of lights flashed from the ceiling, casting a red glow over the cabin. Noble fastened his harness strap over his armor and turned to look out the window.
Metal stacked in neat piles ran along the walls of the cargo bay, maintenance workers in red coveralls still working to clear some of the debris. They paused to gawk at the gunship. Noble didn’t know all of them; in fact, he didn’t even recognize the older worker who had stopped to wave. Partially hunched over, the man struggled to stiffen as the chopper neared. Noble craned his helmet to get a better look.
A thump rocked the craft as the pilot pulled them onto the ramp. He turned back to the window just in time to see the worker wince and then salute the Sea Serpent.
The sight sent a chill down the captain’s back. Overcome with emotions, he returned the gesture. The man disappeared as the Sea Serpent moved up the metal lift. The hydraulics hissed beneath them, and the ramp rose until they were out on the open ocean.
Whitecaps crashed against the sides of the submarine. Light blue surrounded them in all directions, making the invasion seem more like some ongoing nightmare than reality. In the distance, a wall of water extended into the sky.
“I’ll be damned,” Noble muttered. “Get us the fuck out of here.”
“Aye aye, Captain. Activating last preflight checks—”
“I said now!” Noble barked.
“Yes, sir,” the pilot responded. “Irene, all systems are a go, prepare for takeoff.”
The roof rattled above them as the blades flared to life.
Noble ignored the whoosh and focused on the turquoise-colored waterfall on the horizon. It was difficult to judge just how far away it was, and he knew if they had been too close Irene would have aborted the mission. Still, the view made him uneasy, the memory of the disaster still fresh in his mind.
Those thoughts vanished as the chopper lurched off the ramp and climbed away from the GOA. And then the submarine was gone; the doors closed and the ship sank below the waves. Relief flooded over Noble. The vessel, his vessel, was still safe. Retreating back to the depths of the sea.
For the next few hours Noble remained glued to the window. The water had receded for hundreds of miles, possibly even farther. They were moving so fast it was hard to calculate.
The chilling view made it impossible to sleep, and even if it hadn’t, Noble would never allow himself to drift off. There were too many threats.
The monitor on the exterior wall of the cockpit revealed clear skies—a beautiful sight, considering the resistance they’d experienced on their last trip to Colorado Springs. Where the hell were all the Organics? Even the beaches were empty. He’d seen the satellite imagery. The coasts were supposed to look like a blue night-light.
Leaning over to Diego he said, “You seeing what I’m seeing?”
The younger man cleared his throat and looked out the window. “Sorry, sir. Was trying to get caught up on sleep.”
After a few moments of looking out the window the soldier glanced at Noble. He looked confused. “What am I looking for, exactly?”
“Organics.”
“Everything down there looks dead, sir,” Diego replied. “Frankly, it makes me sick to even look at what they’ve done to the surface.”
His words made Noble pause. He’d been so busy looking for signs of the aliens he’d ignored the bleak landscape. Dust storms had ravaged the cities. Drifting debris and layers of dirt surrounded the buildings that remained. There were no signs of life. No hints of green or blue. The world he had known was gone.
Diego was right. The view was sickening.
Chinning his com, Noble opened a channel to the pilot. “How far out are we?”
“About two hours, sir. We’re crossing over into—”
The sound of a radar contact chirped before the pilot had a chance to finish his thought. Noble looked back to the display.
The bleep showed up in the top-left corner, at eleven o’clock. That was his side of the chopper, and he twisted to get a look. There, on the gray horizon, a small dot moved across the sky.
“Report,” Noble coughed into his com.
“Contact, sir. It’s on an intercept course.”
“Fuck. I knew it was too good to be true,” he muttered.
Diego snapped into action. “Ramirez, Shultz. Get on those miniguns.”
The two men unstrapped their harnesses and worked their way down the aisle to their weapons stations.
“Captain, we have another contact on our six,” the pilot said. “Moving fast, sir.”
Another chirp from the radar confirmed the pilot’s observation.
“Get on those guns!” Diego yelled.
Both men strapped into their stations. They activated the weapons system built into the interface of each gun with a few keystrokes on the display.
The technology reminded Noble of video games he’d played as a kid. In a way they were, with a central controller that allowed the user to operate the guns remotely.
Through the port window, Noble could see the alien drone gaining. A white tail of exhaust trailed the blue craft as it raced toward them.
“Sir, contact at eleven o’clock is closing in fast. I think it’s going to try and ram us,” the pilot said.
Noble tried to swallow his fear. Their fate was now in the hands of two men he hardly knew.
“Firing,” Ramirez said. The whine from the minigun filled the compartment and blue pulse rounds streaked across the sky.
The drone dove hard, narrowly escaping the first volley of shots. Noble watched the craft disappear under them.
“Lost it,” the gunner yelled. “Can’t get a reading.”
“How the fuck did they find us?” Diego asked.
“RVM makes us undetectable to their scanners, but it doesn’t cloak us. They must have spotted us on a flyover.”
The chirp from Shultz’s minigun cut Noble off.
“Don’t let them get close,” Noble yelled over the gunfire.
“On it, sir,” the soldier replied.
The pilot’s voice crackled over the PA system. “Coming up on a pocket of turbulence.”
Noble gripped his belt and closed his eyes, waiting for it to clear.
“I can’t get a clean shot. And something’s messing with the targeting system,” Ramirez shouted.
Another torrent rocked the gunship. This time it forced the nose toward the ground. Noble’s insides turned upside down. The sudden sensation of nausea overwhelmed him.
“Incoming!” another voice yelled. It came from the back of the compartment.
Shultz responded with gunfire. “Engaging.”
Noble could see the targeting system on the weapon’s interface. A red dot zigzagged across the screen. Shultz squeezed the trigger each time the drone passed through the crosshairs.
“I can’t get a lock!” he yelled. He clicked the trigger again, firing blindly.
“Intercept course imminent. ETA five seconds,” the pilot yelled.
“Die, you son of a bitch!” Shultz yelled.
A wave of blue rounds cut through the sky, several of them smashing into the craft’s hull. The shields trembled but held.
“Prepare for impact!” the pilot shouted.
Shultz let out a deafening scream over the com. He pulled the trigger furiously.
The gunfire was so loud it was difficult for Noble to think. Blinding blue light filled the compartment as the craft closed in. It was just like one of those alien abduction movies he’d seen as a kid.
Shultz let out one last cry, holding the trigger down with his index finger. The rapid-fire shots hit the nose of the alien drone, slowing it before it smashed into the chopper’s side. The impact sent a shockwave through the Sea Serpent.
The metal walls shook, the vibration ringing in Noble’s ears. His harness tugged at him as he jolted forward from the collision. He caught one last glimpse of Shultz, the soldier’s head snapping backward.
A warning siren sounded against the backdrop of gunfire. Then the emergency lights kicked on. They emitted a blinking red glow in all corners of the vehicle. Noble unfastened his belt. Lunging from his seat he dropped to the floor and began crawling toward Schultz. The man hung limply in his harness, his neck at an unnatural angle.
“Damage report!” Noble yelled as another wave of turbulence rocked the chopper. White noised crackled over the PA system, but there was no response.
He cursed and stood, bracing himself against the wall and moving toward the gun.
“Sir, get back in your seat!” Diego yelled.
Noble ignored him. Grunting, he unfastened the harness that held Shultz into the weapons station. His body collapsed to the metal floor as Noble flung the belt over his chest, clicking in.
When he reached for the interface he saw a cracked screen—the targeting system, destroyed.
Great, he thought, looks like I’m going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.
He ducked to get a look out the window to his left. The small port reduced his visibility to the size of a dinner plate, kind of like looking through the periscope.
“Report,” he repeated. This time the pilot responded.
“Sir, our right rotor has suffered minimal damage, but besides that everything appears to be functional.”
Noble knew they couldn’t afford to take another hit like that. He scanned the gray sky, searching for the drones.
“Where are they?” he shouted.
“Both bogies are on our six,” the pilot quickly replied. “They’re about to make another pass.”
Noble moved to the right window, straining to get a better look. There, gliding across the skyline like two shark fins across the surface of the ocean, were the drones. And they were closing in fast.
Swiveling the weapons station into position, he manually pointed the barrel of the minigun in their direction. At least he thought he did. Without the targeting system he was limited to what he could see through the two port windows. With his right hand gripping the handle he eyed the drones, adjusting the gun as they changed course.
“Ramirez, when they move to your side you fucking blast them out of the sky. Got it?” Noble yelled without taking his eyes off the view.
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
He sounded confident; a good sign, Noble thought.
“Entering Colorado air space,” the pilot said.
A chill ran down the captain’s back. They were almost to Cheyenne Mountain. With a new sense of urgency, Noble held his breath and closed one eye. He followed the drones with the barrel, inching just a few hairs in front of them. Then he pulled down on the trigger.
Volleys of concentrated blue rounds tore through the sky. The drones reacted swiftly, fanning out in different directions. The first craft narrowly cleared the shots, but the second wasn’t so lucky. The entire barrage of bullets hit the drone. Its shield pulsated and then vanished. Now was his chance.
Noble pulled down on the trigger again. The minigun spat one hundred rounds per second, almost all of which found their target.
The drone burst into a blue mist, exploding like a water balloon.
Several of the soldiers behind him cheered loudly, but the chirp from the radar and the whine from the emergency sirens reminded him they weren’t out of danger yet.
“Where’s the other one?” Noble yelled. His eyes darted back and forth from the two windows on the sides of the weapons station.
“Sir, you’re not going to believe this,” said the pilot.
Noble chewed his bottom lip, waiting for the man to finish his thought.
“The other drone seems to be backing off,” he said. “Retreating, sir.”
The compartment burst into applause.
“Prepare for landing,” the pilot entreated. “ETA thirty minutes.”
The captain hesitated as he reached for the strap, his eyes falling upon the mangled body next to him. He thought better of leaving his post and turned back to the window. Running his finger along the trigger, he decided he would remain at the station, knowing damn well the Organics could return any minute.