Chapter 65: The Ambush
In the virtual command sanctum, the high-level executives from Biotechnica and Militech were monitoring every detail of the operation.
"Target is pinned within the structure. 'Manticore' gunships are in attack position, weapon systems locked," the operator reported coolly.
"Good. Maintain suppression. Bleed their ammo and their nerve. Force them to break cover," the Ops Commander ordered, his voice calm, projecting absolute control.
The Biotechnica observer's gaze was fixed on the tactical feed, specifically on the molten-slag effect of Rebecca's plasma pistol. A flicker of undisguised greed crossed her features. "That energy weapon... its operational principle and destructive power... it must be acquired for reverse-engineering. At all costs."
However, the next event was entirely outside their tactical projections and data models.
From a shattered window in the gas station below, with no warning, a blinding, brilliant-white arc of voltaic energy erupted! It didn't fly straight. It moved like a living tendril of lightning, leaping with unnatural speed and precision at the Manticore that had just achieved target-lock!
There was no deafening explosion. Only a high-pitched, tearing ZZZRAK!
The arc of raw electricity coiled around the gunship's chassis. Visible energy danced across its armor. In an instant, its external sensors, comms-array, and even the maneuvering flaps on its engine nacelles overloaded, bursting in a shower of small, dead sparks.
The Manticore's massive frame froze mid-air, as if seized by an invisible hand. Its thrusters died. The lights in its cockpit went black.
It had suffered a total, catastrophic systems-kill. A dead, heavy piece of scrap, it entered a flat spin, trailing black smoke as it plunged toward the distant desert floor. Seconds later, a dull thud echoed back, followed by a massive fireball as its fuel and munitions cooked off.
A stunned silence fell in the command sanctum.
"What in the hell was that?!" The Ops Commander shot to his feet, his holo-image flickering. "What kind of weapon was that?!"
"Unable to identify attack-vector! Anomalous energy signature! Not conventional kinetic or explosive!" The analyst's voice was sharp with shock. "Readings indicate a high-intensity, localized EMP effect! It... it instantly fried the Manticore's core electronics! That's... that's pure, high-grade electronic warfare!"
Before they could even process this, a second, adjudicating bolt of white light lanced out from the same window.
The pilot of the second Manticore, reacting on pure instinct, yanked his controls to evade, but the arc was faster than his meat-reflexes. The voltaic blast grazed the gunship's engine bay. The same scene played out: arcing energy, systems-overload, sparks. The gunship went dark, its systems dead, and it tumbled end-over-end, crashing into the sand.
"This..." the Biotechnica observer was stunned. "They have that level of heavy ordnance? That is not street-merc gear!"
The Ops Commander's face was grim. The loss of two advanced gunships was a critical failure. He snarled his next order: "Send in 'Scalpel'! And push all automata and drones forward! I want them! Alive!"
He now understood. The waters surrounding Maine's crew were far deeper than they had anticipated. This only hardened his resolve to dig out the source of this technology, no matter who he had to kill to get it.
Inside the gas station, Maine carefully slotted the heavy Galvanic Rifle back into its custom-made harness on his back, his own heart pounding. If not for this holy relic from the Boss, they would have been shredded.
"Thank the Boss for that toy," Falco breathed, watching the second Manticore burn. "We'd have never gotten past those AVs."
"Don't space out! We got bigger problems!" Kiwi's voice, sharper and more stressed than ever, cut through their comms. "Multiple high-velocity signatures, closing fast! More than one! I'm reading—Gods, I'm reading Sandevistan signatures! And active optical camo! They're inside!"
Almost as the warning hit, a shimmering blur—a distortion in the air, accompanied by a faint, high-frequency hum—moved faster than the human eye could track, flashing into the ruins.
The blur didn't go for Maine or Dorio, the obvious heavy-hitters. It went for Pilar, the techie, who was fumbling to reload his smart-gun behind a half-collapsed counter.
A cold light flashed—the unmistakable, monomolecular glint of Mantis Blades, striking for Pilar's throat!
Pilar didn't even have time to register the threat, only a sudden, icy wave of killing intent.
"Look out!" Maine's roar and his hand-cannon's BOOM were simultaneous. He'd caught the faint, optical-camo distortion at the last second, and, trusting pure, street-honed instinct, had fired three rapid shots at the empty air just to the side of Pilar.
The heavy-caliber rounds blew concrete chunks from the wall and counter. One of the rounds passed so close that its percussive force and wind-shear was enough to force the attacker to abort the killing blow.
The blur flickered, the optical camo wavering, revealing a hazy, slender silhouette. It slid backward like a ghost, its cold, red e-optics locking on Maine for a split-second before it instantly re-acquired, the Mantis Blades flashing as it changed targets, lunging for Rebecca, who was still adjusting her stance.
Just as the blades were about to plunge into Rebecca's back, Dorio moved.
She wasn't using her eyes. She was using the new senses Joric had sanctified within her—the ability to feel the micro-disturbances in the air, the cold spike of killing intent. Her massive, augmented body exploded with a speed that defied her bulk. She stepped into the attack, her bronzed, myomer-laced arm swinging like a steel piston, moving to intercept the lethal blades.
KRA-KANG—!