The downpour had let up enough that Vartan could chance the drone. As the Messiah’s column plodded south through the wet and mud, he activated the flying bomb.
Using thumbs, he directed it up, the camera penetrating the early-dawn gloom with ease.
After it rose above the admin dome, he sent it scooting north to the science dome. Studying the image, he let it circle the building. Peered into the windows, finding all of the rooms dark.
Didn’t mean the foe wasn’t still hidden inside, but somehow, he doubted it.
Damn it. They were spread too thin. The smart play would have been to have someone up in the admin dome hatch with the long-distance mic. Someone to keep watch.
Instead he’d been called down to make bombs.
So what to do? Somewhere the Supervisor’s killers were loose in the compound, armed to the teeth, and prepared to unleash a blood bath.
Got to find them.
Vartan blinked against his fatigue as he sent the drone high, turned its camera down. He had to believe they’d try for the radio.
“Come on, think, damn it. Where would they be?”
What would have prompted them to leave the safety of the science dome, head out into the teeth of the storm?
What was the old adage? That the best time to attack was before the crack of dawn?
When else would the supposedly unsuspecting Unreconciled be as vulnerable? Their sentries dozing? Groggy with sleep? Most still in their beds?
He switched the flight path, taking the drone south to focus on the approaches to the admin dome. Saw the first furtive figure burst from the shipping container, making a run for the admin doors.
“Gotcha!” Vartan’s thumbs sent the drone plummeting as two other figures charged out in the wake of the first. Now it was just a matter of timing.
As the camera angle zoomed, he fixed on the first figure in line. She ran with that swinging stride of a woman. Long black hair was soaked, matted to her back. Had to be the Supervisor.
A feeling of giddy glee filled him.
He was descending too fast, applied lift, and watched the drone shiver as it struggled to slow.
The trick was to get all three as they reached the doors.
As the image continued to zoom, Vartan applied more power to the fans in an effort to achieve a hover.
Wasn’t working.
Too much weight with the magtex? The batteries too old? Some complication with the rain?
As Vartan fought the controls, the straining drone must have given itself away. In the camera, the Supervisor looked up. Must not have seen the dropping drone against the storm-dark sky. Seemed to be searching.
Desperate as he was to get them all, the drone was falling too fast. He set his index finger on the switch. Was about to press when the Supervisor threw herself face-first into the mud.
The image vanished an instant before the boom of the explosion echoed through the soft patter of the rain.
Vartan stared at his finger. Tried to remember if he’d pushed the button. Couldn’t. God, he was so tired. So defeated.
I just want this all to end.