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On the third floor, the Ahmen ran towards the explosion, satisfied that his patience had paid off. He had been in Tower’s office, knowing that the security cameras were not active in that room. He waited for either stairway door to blow, because he had rigged them to do just that. Everything was going according to plan until a second explosion, not one of his, blew the hallway door off its hinges and right into him. It threw him back ten feet and onto the pile of dead Jericho men. He lay on his back, his body stunned from the shock of the explosion. He rolled to one side, forcing himself to his knees. His shotgun lay nearby, and he grabbed it as he stumbled down the hall to the stairs as the smoke swallowed him like a gray cotton ball. He couldn’t see his hands in front of his face. The taste of blood filled his mouth, and he felt the warm trickle of blood draining from his ears.
The radar heads-up display was working, giving him a wireframe display of his immediate location. He could see the walls of the hallway and the door that led to the stairs. He fired his shotgun and followed the blast through the doorway and down the stairs. Two more shotgun blasts followed, hoping to connect. The wireframe showed only stairs, no Snakeskins down below.
He looked back at the door and the stairs leading up to the roof just as Connor flung his broken body full into his chest, sending them both tumbling down the concrete stairs.
Kipling heard Connor’s scream in his helmet. Burke and Mitchell had followed him onto the second floor. He had cracked his head on the railing, falling back from the explosion. His reactions alone triggered the launcher as he blacked out for a moment. He was slow to react to Connor’s actions. Burke and Mitchell vaulted back onto the stairs as Connor cried out again, this time not in anger but in pain.
Kipling heard gunfire, followed by the boom-boom of shotguns as the doors to the second floor flew open. Burke had Connor over his shoulder while Mitchell walked out backwards, firing his MP5 into the smoke of the stairway, spraying lazy circles in the air as he covered as much area as he could before slamming the door.
By now, Kipling was on his feet and moving forward just as he heard more micro-wire trip alarms ringing. Not one, but two, then three, then four. The bastard was on the run now, past them and down, opening the doors they had sealed on each floor. Shit, he could be anywhere now.
They carried Connor to the elevator and put him inside, propped in a chair. He was still conscious, but barely. One arm was broken, and he took a shotgun blast on his thigh. The armor couldn’t absorb it all, and he was slipping into shock, bleeding internally from the blast. They punched the basement level three and let him ride down alone. Kip did not know why Danielle hadn’t shut down the elevators, but now he was glad they were working.
There was thick smoke on the second floor, as Kipling led his team in pursuit of the Witch Doctor. Lots of smoke. They were all on radar wireframe, weapons at the ready. Kipling could feel his advantage slipping away. The bastard held all the cards and was dictating the action. He was reacting, something he hated. Somehow, he had to get on the offensive. First, he had to find the enemy.
“Listen, as much as I hate to do it, we must split up,” said Kipling, over the radio. “We’ve got to flush him out into the open and we’re running out of time. Burke, you’ve got the north stairwell. Mitchell, the south. Start on the roof and go down, flush out each floor, make sure he’s not behind you. I’ll clear the second floor and meet you both in the lobby.”
Kip checked his on-board status. He had five minutes of air left. He’d need a replacement oxygen cartridge soon. He had one left in his belt. He reminded the others to watch their oxygen as well. Even with another supply, Kip had only twenty minutes to wrap this up.
The Snakeskins split up on the run. Kipling made his way down the hallway of the second floor, kicking in the office doors as he went. All the while, the blueprints of the Archer Building flashed through his mind. He knew he was missing something. This made no sense. Why seal yourself inside a tomb like this? What was his game? He had no answers, no response to the Witch Doctor’s tactics. What he knew for sure was that he was running out of time and running out of men.