Inferno (Talon #5)(20)
Both of us turned away as the boom of an explosion rocked the night and sent smoke billowing from the door. Before the smoke had even cleared, Tristan rushed to the frame, kicked in the crippled door and tossed a flashbang into the room.
Shouts of alarm came from inside, just as a retina-burning flash pierced the darkness, followed by a muffled boom of energy. I lunged through the frame and saw a pair of dazed, reeling soldiers just before Tristan and I slammed into them. My soldier didn’t resist as I snaked an arm around his throat and sent him into unconsciousness.
Lowering the limp sentry to the floor, I looked up at Tristan, who nodded grimly as he released the second unconscious guard. That took care of this car, but the one with our objective in it was surely going to be more of a challenge. Any soldiers in it had certainly heard the explosions caused by charges and flashbangs and would know that they were under attack. They’d be ready for us.
Swiftly, we moved to the other end of the car. As we pressed to either side of the frame, Tristan nodded at me, and I quickly pushed open the door.
A hail of machine gun fire rang out. I jerked back as a storm of bullets peppered the frame, sparking off the railings and metal walls. Apparently, the guards had decided to take the initiative and not wait for us to kick in the door. From the sounds of the weapons, two soldiers stood to either side of the frame, firing M16s in sharp three-round bursts at us. Tristan and I pressed back behind the doorframe, sparks flying around us, and waited for an opportunity to move. I had a flashbang in hand, but the soldiers were giving us no chance to counterstrike. If I poked any body part out of cover now, I would get a bullet through it.
There was a roar overhead, a swooping of leathery wings, and a curtain of fire suddenly appeared between us and the soldiers. It blazed against the darkness, blindingly hot and intense, and the storm of gunfire ceased amid loud cursing and cries of alarm. The shadow swooped up and out of sight, too fast to be seen clearly, but for a few seconds the soldiers gaped after it, stunned. Long enough for me to pop out and hurl the flashbang at their feet.
The force of the explosion threw one soldier into the wall, where he collapsed, motionless. The other staggered back, reeling, and Tristan leaped over the space between cars, kicked him in the stomach and followed with a savage right hook to the guard’s temple that knocked him senseless.
The way to our objective was clear. Quickly, we ducked through the door, wary for more soldiers lying in ambush, but the car was empty save for a narrow wooden table in the middle of the floor. A lamp sat atop it, bathing the table in a dim orange glow, and in the center of the light lay a long case of glimmering metal.
Tristan let out a breath, reached out and pulled the case toward him. It was almost certainly our objective, but we had to make sure. The case was padlocked shut, but a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters took care of that problem. The latch released with a click, and Tristan yanked it open.
“Oh, yes,” he murmured as the lid fell back. A long, long black barrel lay gleaming in the cutout foam padding, much larger than a standard rifle barrel and three times as thick. It was obviously meant to be fired from a stand or tripod, as it would be far too heavy for a single person to lift, much less aim. The rest of the weapon had been disassembled and lay in pieces in various foam cutouts, but Tristan stroked the length of the barrel with an almost maniacal glint in his eye. “Hello, beautiful,” he purred. “Would you like to come home with me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Romeo, ask it to dinner later. We gotta move.”
Almost at the same time, a bang came from the door at the far end of the car, and angry voices echoed through the barrier. More guards were on their way.
“Shit.” Tristan closed the case with a snap, then hauled it off the table. It was almost too big for a single person to carry, but he set his jaw and started for the door. “Let’s go.”
We left the car, hurried to the ladder and together managed to drag the prototype case onto the roof. Wind buffeted us, cold and savage, and the tops of the empty train cars stretched on in either direction.
“All right,” Tristan panted, holding tightly to the case as he scanned the sky. “Where the hell are those lizards? We’re sort of sitting ducks out here.”
“They’ll be here—”
“Freeze!”
I looked up. Three soldiers had ascended the roof of the car from the other side, and a pair of M16s were now pointed in our direction. One of the men, the one out front, looked to be a captain or sergeant, for he was dressed differently than the near-identical soldiers behind him. I raised my hands as he approached, the two guards flanking him, to give me a hard smile.
“Well, well. End of the line, it seems.” His voice had a trace of a Southern accent, breathy and somewhat smug. “I guess I’ll have to give you props for this ballsy little heist. Though, for the life of me, I don’t know where you thought you were going to go, unless your plan was to sprout wings and fly away.”
Tristan snorted, managing to turn a laugh into a rather painful-sounding cough that didn’t fool anyone. The officer’s eyes narrowed, and pointed a black handgun at my face. “Put down the case and step away, now,” he demanded. “Nice and slow, and keep your hands where I can see them.” When neither of us moved, his voice turned hard. “Boy, don’t make me shoot you,” he said as the soldiers behind him took aim. “It’s over. There’s nowhere to go. Your choices are either death by jumping or death by lead poisoning. Or you can surrender now and live awhile longer. Personally, I’d take the last option.”