Timestamp: 3333
The passage through the western coast of the United States down to Mexico is one of the most-traveled in the Underground Railroad. What I initially thought was a cake job became one of the more difficult operations I’d ever had to work on for the Prophus. It was also one of the most rewarding.
At first, the stream of tired, desperate refugees from Asia was a deluge. So much so that it attracted the attention of the IXTF and became one of the Prophus’s most active regions. It was there I earned superhero status as the Rayban Ghost.
The farmhouse was gone. The entire damn thing. Gone. Roen stared at the satellite pictures, then back at the surveillance shots Hite took on the ground. There was nothing there; his entire life, as if it had never existed. The only thing in the now-empty field that even resembled any sign of his life was the buildings’ rough outlines, now filled with upturned earth and rubble. Tears flowed freely down his face. The life he had built, the first in a decade that had felt stable, safe, and happy, was now reduced to a mound of black soil.
Roen knew this had been par for the course ever since he became involved in this Quasing war. Even worse, he still had not spoken to his family. He had finally got ahold of Datlow and coaxed the truth out of her. Once she’d sent over the images, he realized it was worse than he had feared.
His only solace was that his family was all right. Jill had contacted Datlow early in the week and Cameron a few days later. If they were still missing, he would have hopped into the station wagon, wooden panels and all, and made a beeline back toward home, Prie and the Prophus and this catalyst facility be damned. If either of them had been injured or worse, he would have never forgiven himself.
He had sworn to stay by their side and to protect them forever, no matter what. It seemed no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t keep that promise. This was the first time in years he had been away from his family for this long, and some Genjix asshole demolished their house. Roen curled his fingers into fists and crushed the images in his hand.
Marco, sitting next to him, looked at the crumpled image. “You all right, mate?”
Roen shook his head. “Genjix attacked the farmhouse.”
Marco paled. “Your family?”
“They made it out, thank God, but everything else is gone.”
“Well, that’s all that’s bloody important. I need your head with you, man.” Marco held up a fist. Roen tapped it with his. He appreciated Marco’s concern. The two were operating much better together than last time in Egypt, partially because both of them were getting too damn old to fight over ego. More importantly, Marco seemed to have become less of an asshole as he got older. Two dust-ups were considered light for them.
“By the way, Roen,” Marco added. “If the operation goes wrong, I want you close to Prie. You’re taking Pri as a last resort.”
“Uh, no,” Roen made a face. “What am I, some sort of surrogate incubator? I’ve already done my tour of duty.”
Marco looked surprised. “I thought you would want it. You know, become a host and be somebody again.”
Be somebody again? Scratch that. Marco was still the biggest asshole ever.
“They’ve arrived at the hospital,” Sheck said. “Chase says convoy of three vehicles, including the Penetra van. Helen reporting an ambulance standing by as well.”
“Move out,” Marco said as the rest of the team ran through final preparations.
The chatter about Prie’s extraction began immediately after the team activated the bug under Kallis’s shoe. Against the advice of doctors, the team had decided to transport him as soon as possible, though he was barely well enough to be moved. Because of his delicate state, there were concerns that the long drive to Seattle would be too dangerous. Instead, they had arranged for a small plane to arrive at Ontario Airport, where he would be transferred by air to the regional IXTF headquarters in Seattle.
The team had originally thought the IXTF was going to move him down highway 84 by convoy and had planned accordingly. Activating the bug had saved them. It gave them just enough time to scramble and adjust their rescue plan. Now, they had a distance just over three klicks from the hospital to the plane to work with. It left very little room for them to maneuver. The only saving grace was that they knew the exact route the IXTF team was taking to the airport. Roen had to give it to Kallis; she left little to the imagination when it came to detailing their plans. Roen’s team had stayed up all night to implement a contingency plan, stealing a Plymouth Voyager minivan, an old pickup truck, and jerry-rigging a series of low-grade IEDs.
They buried the IEDs on the only stretch of gravel road and now the team was in position waiting for the convoy to arrive. Chase and Helen would tail the convoy in the minivan while Elias manned the pickup truck hidden behind the gas tanks a little off to the side. The rest of them had to hide in a barn way off from the ambush point, just far enough away from the Penetra van’s range.
Marco, Sheck and Roen waited just inside the door for their signal. While they had elected to be covered from head to toe in their standard-issue combat gear, Roen wore his typical hood and Rayban glasses, preferring to armor only his vital organs. He was also designated the tactical lead during this operation, simply because everyone else had an accent, which would give them away in a heartbeat. Well, everyone except for Chase, who was from Dallas, but that guy couldn’t lead children to an ice cream truck, let alone a last-minute multi-faceted ambush.
“They’re pulling onto 33rd now,” Sheck said.
Marco pulled the ski mask down over his head while Roen knotted his hoodie tight to his face. He adjusted the Rayban sunglasses and shouldered his rifle. He caught Marco staring at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You look like the bloody Unabomber,” said Marco.
“That was kind of the point,” Roen said. “I think I look cool.”
“Look a bloody fool more like it.”
There was a long pause.
“You’re the fool,” Roen retorted lamely.
There was a sound of a crash, which was their cue. The three of them charged out of the barn, sprinting across the field. Elias had rammed the lead Penetra van with the pickup truck, effectively blocking the ambulance’s path. The IEDs, buried on the left side of the street, went off on the two rear vehicles. The trick more or less worked. One car was flipped onto its side, but the explosion missed the back car. Helen resolved that a second later by ramming the minivan into it.
“Try not to kill anyone,” Roen yelled through the comm, knowing he sounded like a broken record. He had told the team half a dozen times today already, but he especially meant it this time, because he had just met most of these IXTF guys a few days ago. He had shaken hands and drank beers with them. Killing them felt wrong.
It didn’t stop him from doing his job, though. He clocked the first IXTF agent who climbed out of the rear car – Martin the vegetarian – in the face, hopefully knocking the guy out. The next guy, a perpetually chuckling older gentleman named Nate, raised his pistol at Roen before Marco clubbed him with the butt of his rifle.
On his left, Roen saw Sheck run up to the Penetra van and the ambulance and shoot out the tires on both. Marco charged over to the overturned car in the middle as another of the IXTF agents tried to crawl out of the driver’s side window. He hauled the man out – Valentine, the rookie of Kallis’s team – and threw him on the ground, knocking him out with a punch to the temple.
To his left he heard a gunshot and then another. Roen saw Kallis standing there, blood streaming down the side of her face. She was aiming somewhere behind Roen. He looked back and saw Chase fall. Cursing, Roen charged her, covering the distance between them as she turned her attention to him. One shot went high left; the second missed his face by sheer luck when he lowered his head and tackled her. He felt the bullet scorch the air as they collided.
Roen had thought he could take out the smaller woman easily, but Kallis was no slouch. She hooked her arms around his waist and twisted left upon impact. Both of them fell and rolled on the ground. Roen got to his feet just in time for her to kick at his face. She missed and nailed him in the neck instead. He felt his throat constrict as he stumbled backward.
Kallis scrambled for her pistol, which had fallen to the side. Knowing he wasn’t going to beat her there, he dove forward and tripped her as she ran. The two exchanged blows. He could tell right away she had a Marine Corps Martial Arts Program background. Back and forth they went as she pressed. Roen defended as he examined what was going on in the rest of the fight. His team had secured all of the IXTF’s vehicles by now. Elias and Helen were opening the ambulance doors. Marco was approaching Roen and Kallis, rifle drawn.
“No,” Roen yelled, shaking his head. The momentary distraction earned him a kick to the groin that doubled him over, then a combination of punches and kicks to his head and body. He ate the first few strikes and backpedaled, studying her cadence. He had to admit; she was good. Better than he gave her credit for. But not good enough.
He slipped outside her guard and tried to force her to the ground with an elbow lock. Kallis escaped and rewarded his efforts to peacefully incapacitate her by flurrying his face with punches, causing his head to bounce forward and backward like a speed bag. Finally, fed up, he growled, palmed her face and chopped her legs from under her.
“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” He spat blood from his mouth onto the floor. “Stay down.” Then he felt the adrenaline dump, and the pain in his groin made its presence felt. He hunched forward and clenched his body. He wasn’t going to walk right for a few days. She thrashed at him while he kept her pinned down.
Marco had the rifle trained on her face a moment later. Kallis froze, and Roen let his grip on her face slacken. He stood up and limped backward, gasping. “Holy cow, that hurts.”
She took one look at his sunglasses and hoodie, and spat on the ground. “You must be the Rayban Ghost. I knew your greasy fingers would show up here. My men…”
“…are all still alive,” he said, “which is more than I can say for one of mine. Now stay down before I even the score. On your stomach!” He tried to keep his voice low and guttural, but he knew he was walking a fine line. He took out sets of plastic binds and tied her arms behind her back. She squirmed as she glared at him. The rest of the IXTF agents were bound in a similar fashion.
He turned to Marco. “Did we secure the package?”
Marco nodded, pulled out a pistol and handed it to Roen. Roen took it and pointed it at Kallis. “How’s Chase?”
Marco shook his head and Roen swore. “Get ready for transport then,” he said, his eyes never moving away from Kallis.
The death was on Roen; he knew that. He was the one who had pleaded with the team to try to avoid casualties. It still hurt every time Roen lost a guy. It felt personal this time, because he had tried to accomplish Prophus goals without injuring good people. Now, Chase had paid the price. Tao would have called him an idiot for being so soft.
You should have focused on your people and your objective first.
That’s what Tao would have said, and he would have been one hundred percent correct.
It seemed his noble efforts weren’t lost on Kallis either. “Rayban Ghost, you held back there. Why?”
“You noticed?”
“Been in enough fights to recognize when a man is pulling his punches.”
Roen knelt over her and tapped the ground with the pistol. “By the way, you owe the Eureka Animal Shelter another ten grand for the lives of your men.”
He looked over at the ambulance and saw his guys wheel Prie around the corner. Then Marco and Sheck came back to retrieve Chase. He grimaced as they picked up his limp body and took him away.
“We’re all saddled up,” Marco said through the comm. “On our way back to base.”
“Giving you guys a five-minute head start,” Roen replied. “Use it wisely.” He checked the time. Pretty soon, someone was going to notice this mess on the airfield. He needed to make sure his guys were as far away from here as possible. He looked over at Kallis squirming her way to her side. With a grunt, she bent her knees forward and wormed her way so she faced him lying down sideways.
“So, Rayban,” she said. “Are any of my guys hurt?”
“Not my concern.” He checked the time again. In the distance, he heard the faint howling of sirens. He had to get moving.
“You’re a bastard, you know that, Rayban Ghost,” Kallis called. “I’m going to hunt you for the rest of your God damned life.”
“Oh no, not that.” He shrugged, scanning the perimeter. “Guess it’s a burden I’ll have to live with.”
Her eyes widened. “A heavy burden?”
Roen gave a start and realized his mistake too late. He took off at a sprint, heading the opposite direction of the sirens.
“Hey, come back here, Rayban!” he heard her scream. “Rutherford!”
Roen stumbled, cursing himself for making such an idiotic mistake. In his self-loathing for losing Chase, he had turned one mistake into two. This one could have serious consequences as well, not just for this mission, but for a long time.
Well, no matter, it had happened. Roen had to move on. Even if he had accidentally given himself away, what’s the worst she could do? They had Prie now. The attack on the catalyst facility would happen in a couple of days, and by week’s end, he’d be out of her reach forever.