CHAPTER

  SIXTY-ONE

  BANSHEE

  Bayou motioned for Gi to tighten up the distance. She and Halo were on opposite sides of the highway. The Wulf eased up between them, scanners actively searching for more targets. They’d passed through part of New Jersey south of New York City. Every town was demolished, most looked like they had been in ruins for decades. Moving up toward Newark, they finally found an intact bridge into the city.

  “This is some shit, LT.”

  “Cut the chatter,” Bayou ordered, but she had to agree. There was no city, not anymore. What had been lower Manhattan was a giant smoking crater. Water filled the streets. Skyscrapers slanted sideways as if leaning into a strong breeze. Many had fallen. This hadn’t been the result of any dirty bomb.

  “Rad levels near normal,” G-force said from inside the transport.

  Everything seemed covered in the strange-looking violet vines Joe had warned her about.

  “At least these aren’t shooting at us,” Priest said from somewhere high above.

  Soon after landing, they had come under attack, but scans here showed no enemy, or no living human enemy. It had taken half an hour to identify the shooter, a bushy vine with exploding seed pods of some kind. They fired sharpened thorns that Halo had gone out and recovered. Sensor analysis showed it was coated with a powerful neurotoxin. The system identified the poison as a modified version of one occurring naturally… in scorpionfish.

  “How many people in this city?” Halo asked his suit’s AI.

  “Twelve point three million prior to the attack.”

  One of the densest population centers in the world, and now it was a smoking ruin.

  “Bayou, I don’t know what’s affecting the wildlife, but I think we all know what made that big-ass hole.”

  She had her own thoughts but wanted to hear her team’s assessment. “Let me hear it, Halo.”

  “That thar’s a kinetic blast hole, Lieutenant. See how it pushed up the land along the edge and how the buildings are all pushed away from the ground zero? The damage is mostly from the heat and the overpressure of the blast wave. Had to be orbital bombardment.”

  “Shit.” She agreed but had been hoping that she was mistaken. “Priest, Gi, you concur?”

  They did. “That means two things,” Bayou said as she began calling the TriCraft’s pilot.

  “We have a potential enemy up there,” Halo said, pointing up.

  “Yeah, and we have to go get proof,” Bayou said, finishing up the call to Packer, the pilot.

  “We’re going into that?” Priest asked, his voice showing none of its normal confidence.

  “We’re RDT specialists, boys. It’s what we do. Mount up.”

  “Hoorah,” they each mouthed with little real enthusiasm.

  The Wulf could float and even traverse in water or mud if needed. Today it was required. They were riding along what was called Hudson Street the previous month. Now it was essentially part of the Hudson River. Water depth was nearly twenty feet. Chelsea was gone, as were most of the other areas Bayou had once known. They saw people staring at them from some windows. Small children waved at them, their haunted eyes wide with fear. There was no way to get them out, and that wasn’t Banshee’s mission. The doors to the apartment buildings that were still standing were down at street level. Street level was underwater or covered in yards of dirt and debris pushed up by the blasts.

  “We could shoot out some windows on each building,” Priest said, obviously looking at the same thing Bayou was.

  “We going to drive all over the city doing that? Then what, Bishop? Then what…”

  “I’m just sayin…”

  “Can it. We know our job. This city has its own rescue ops.”

  Angling the Wulf into a side street, Gi fought to control the momentum. Underwater obstacles kept grounding the big transport.

  “Must be the 4:00 rush hour,” Priest said.

  Increasingly, the streets were clogged with tangles of the thick, violet-colored vines that seemed to thicken even as they moved past. They saw people in windows much less often now. IR scans were showing up negative as well.

  Bayou was riding in the second seat, where she flipped on a set of external microphones. The dual shotgun mics could pick up sounds from miles away on the battlefield; she wasn’t sure how effective they would be here in the city. There were strange ambient sounds, but for the most part, the city was filled with an eerie silence.

  They had been trying to angle over from midtown toward Queens and see what was left of the Alliance HQ on the site of the old U.N. building. So far, none of the routes they had taken had panned out. Faint sounds came over the speakers.

  “Gunshots,” Halo said.

  Bayou was working with the boom mics to get a fix on it.

  “We’re going to check it out?” the Korean asked uncertainly.

  She got the coordinates and nodded. “Move us closer at least. Maybe we can put some drones up to give us a look.” She turned to look at Halo.

  “On it,” he replied, already moving to the back, where he began opening cases.

  Minutes later, they were bobbing up and down at the corner of a low-rise apartment building, trying to understand what they were watching.

  “Can you get closer?”

  “Sorry, Boss, not without them seeing it. Their equipment is nearly as good as ours.”

  Half a dozen serious looking boats were anchored next to what looked to be a basic warehouse. The faded sign high up on a wall said it was one of the many New York Sanitation Department collection sites.

  The fact of that location drawing so much interest was unusual, but not the most striking thing about the scene. Bayou had thought first that these were the Navy’s light attack craft, but the armament let her know she was wrong. Civilian authorities. Must have a rescue mission that went sideways. She was about to order her team on toward Queens when more gunfire erupted. This time, it was obviously occurring between the boats.

  “Look at the insignias on the boats.”

  Bayou followed where Bishop was pointing at the display. She could see it didn’t look right, but his eyes were better than hers. “Not NYC,” she said questioningly.

  He shook his head. “Maryland, at least one other is from Harbor Patrol out of Newark.”

  She looked at him, momentarily perplexed. “Gi, move us back under that fire escape. Priest, get up top. I want you on overwatch.”

  She busied herself querying her battle computer on what was actually at this address.

  “Shit, it’s a disaster relief center,” she said moments later.

  New York was better prepared than most of the large metroplexes for a large-scale disaster. That included a lot of pre-stocked warehouses full of supplies, equipment, and even emergency medical centers.

  “Those places have food and supplies for millions, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, Halo. Won’t last the city long, but apparently the next-door neighbors are in a better position to get to them than the city’s own rescuers.”

  “No need to prep yourself as long as you know where your friend’s stash is, right?”

  “Not our fight. It sucks, guys, but I don’t…”

  The Wulf lurched to one side and began moving out toward the open intersection. “Sergeant!” Bayou called, her voice full of nervous energy.

  “It’s not responding. Something seems to be pulling us,” Gi answered.

  She switched on external cameras, and the reason was immediately clear. The vines were a roiling mass in front of them. “Probably wrapped our axle.

  We will be exposed in thirty seconds, people. Priest, you in position?”

  “Ran into a little trouble, Bayou. Give me five.”

  “Overwatch, you have three,” she responded.

  Minutes later shots rang out high above followed quickly by two bodies hurtling down beside them. The Wulf was now emerging into a clear line of sight with the raiders at the warehouse.

  “Those attack boats can inflict some serious damage on us, ma’am.”

  She knew the Korean Sergeant was understating the obvious. “I have control. Exit and find cover.”

  Halo popped the side hatch on the opposite side and hurried out with G-force close behind. Bayou heard small arms fire hitting the outer hull as she pushed the throttle hard forward and tried to go with the pull of the vines. The strong electric motors whined as they jetted water out the twin nozzles at incredible force. The Wulf gained speed only to slam to a stop as the vine caught. The weapons fire increased in volume.

  “Banshee, light those fuckers up,” she ordered.

  There was an embankment of dry land on the far side of the road. She knew if she could get the Wulf to it, the tires would generate enough traction to break free. Unfortunately, she soon realized the vehicle was moving in the opposite direction. Toward the shooters.

  Priest was up top of the adjacent building lying on his belly facing the warehouse over seventy feet below. Several other bodies lay behind him. Seemed the excitement here had pulled out a lot of interest in the neighborhood. He centered the scope on the uniformed woman manning the old style .50 cal on top of the attack boat. The first trigger pull removed her arm at the shoulder. The spray of blood nearly covered the boat’s windshield. He then moved to the closest boat to Bayou. Men there looked to be readying an RPG. The grenade might not sink the armored transport, but it wouldn’t do it much good. He stitched a line of rounds along the hull until he found the fuel cell. By the size of the explosion, it was probably hydrogen.

  G-force and Halo swam to opposite corners of the building. Halo was going to signal the new guy to break in and move to the opposite side. That had been his plan, but when he looked for the Korean, he saw nothing. Shit, he’d been right there. Using the butt of his rifle, he broke through the panes of glass and crawled over the brickwork. The building reeked of mold and wetness. Smells he remembered from a flooded fishing camp back when he was a kid. He heard noises in the building; some of these apartments were probably still occupied. Judging by the smell of death and rot, many of them weren’t.

  Bayou stopped fighting the pull and let the Wulf transport be towed to wherever the damn vines wanted it. Instead, she recentered on the original threat. Only four of the boats remained, and they were in the process of scattering. Now that they had a common enemy, they’d apparently decided the military presence was the bigger threat.

  “You, in the transport, cease fire and stand down! That’s an order! This is an official police matter!”

  They were on the loudspeaker and all official sounding. Did they really think that would work against an elite military squad? Bayou saw a carnage round slice straight through the boat she had suspected was the loudmouth behind the announcement. The torso of a man still clutching something white in his hand toppled over the side of the boat and into the water. This wasn’t Banshee’s fight, but they were in it, anyway. Besides, maybe providing one warehouse of supplies to this neighborhood was the one honorable thing they could achieve in this clusterfuck. We are here to make a difference. She brought the auto cannons online and picked out the first, second, and third targets. She hit the red fire button and let the combat command system do the rest.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-TWO

  Gi moved in closer, seeing something no one else on the team had. His training in the ROK special forces had not been as diverse as the other members of Banshee, but he had excelled in what there was. Underwater combat held a particular lure for him. He’d grown up on an island just north of Incheon. The former DMZ ran right through one part of his island. Even though Korea had reunified over twenty years ago, there was still a lot of animosity. Some of that turned into underwater turf battles with the boys from the northern side. Many of the lessons of youth were learned at the hands of others. That was life on the peninsula.

  He passed under one of the attack boats as it burst into flames. He felt the force of the explosion above. The damn vines kept reaching out to him as he swam by, and he saw more than one figure snatched from the surface by the ropey tendrils. He emerged from the water by the door of the warehouse. He’d seen two men enter in an inflatable craft before most of the shooting started. As he slid silently under the raised door, he heard Bayou open up with the transport’s mounted weapons.

  A mezzanine walkway encircled the large open space. Lines of shelving stacked nearly to the ceiling filled almost every inch of space. Rounds were pinging off the girders and wall cladding. G-force slipped silently from the water and knelt to scout the surroundings. His HUD showed a clear trail on IR, four pairs of footsteps going in several directions. It also showed something else, the presence of an explosive material. It was a version of the highly effective octanitrocubane called OCX-9. A bit of it could bring down the entire block.

  He didn’t bother to try and determine what they were up to. Steal what they could and destroy the rest. Destroy and deprive the locals. It could be something else entirely. He didn’t care; he was a killer, and that became his plan, end this threat and get the hell out. He spotted one man moving near a wall unit, storing something that looked like portable energy cells. The guy was wearing body armor, so Gi’s options were limited. Slipping back into the water, he swam over just beneath the man and pushed himself out, driving a knife up and through the man’s unshielded inner thigh. He pulled back sharply on the blade, catching a major artery, and the man went down screaming. Sergeant Dae was already back under the water.

  His HUD gave an indication of two more targets back in a far corner of the building. He radioed Bayou even though she would be watching the feed. The sounds of battle outside seemed to slow, the exchange of weapons fire growing less intense each second. He analyzed where the next target was and realized he couldn’t get to him the same way. The mezzanine was comprised of metal grating; he could swim under it to within three meters of where the other police officer was working. He could tell by the symbols on the bottom of the crates that this guy was stealing drugs and medical supplies. Gi fired two rounds up through the grating, catching the man in the chest and the face. The officer’s armor worked, but the man still went down from the impact. Gi then shot him at point blank range, the MK4 dialed up to maximum yield. The back of the man’s head came off along with half the helmet.

  The kill coincided with a pause in the battle outside. His battle AI alerts went off, followed closely by impacts on his armor. He was taking fire and in a bad position. One round clipped a power feed, and half his suit went offline. No movement, no sensors. He kicked and dove to the bottom. He tried calling the other team members, but his primary comms unit was dead.

  A twirling twist of violet and green wrapped around the useless arm of the suit. The vine pulled with an unbelievable force. Oxygen warnings went off; the O2 recirculation system was one of the parts offline. With the working left hand of the suit, Gi grabbed onto a shelving unit and locked the suit in place, then punched the emergency eject. The blast wasn’t large, but he barely had time to grab the rifle as he was rocketed upward. Now he had no advantage over the enemy.

  He tasted metal and salt and something else in the water. Also, men talking, someone moaning. Gi fixed the positions in his mind and assessed the battle space. He could get one of them but could see no way to kill both. If they were using any sort of combat discipline, each would cover the other. That was okay. Not all of his tricks required him to be wearing battle armor. He kicked across the space, deep underwater, to get a new firing position. A shadow passed over him along with a brush of current that hadn’t been there. He was no longer alone down here, and what was up above was not just the twisting weirdly colored vine.

  In the dim light Gi couldn’t see what was in here, but with the amount of blood and bodies, he had a good idea. Sharks were opportunistic feeders, and right now downtown New York City, and this block in particular, had to be a feeding bonanza.

  Without the battle armor, he felt more exposed, but also more agile, more natural. He slipped silently out of the water and up onto the metal walkway. The suit’s base layer had a super-hydrophobic coating that literally repelled water. He paused only briefly to let all the drops cascade down and back into the water.

  Lying flat on the edge of the walkway he activated the camo mode of the inner suit to match the dull gray metal. Both of the other men were actively sweeping rifles around searching for a target. It wasn’t military precision, but it wasn’t bad. All he needed was one of them to move a few steps toward him, and he could try something reckless.

  A dark shape moved in the water beneath where he lay. Gi watched through the metal grating as it slid by effortlessly. As the shark neared a wall, it spun rapidly, making a small splash on the surface. That was enough to get both of the enemy looking and then moving toward him.

  “Coming in,” he heard one of his teammates say as Gi slid his backup earbud in. He wanted to warn them, but they would see it. They knew the risk. Besides, even a shark couldn’t harm an armored operator. He kept his attention focused on the lead man. He wore a black suit; a civilian version of the battle armor Gi had abandoned meters below. The official police badge shone brightly on the man’s chest.

  Uncoiling instantly, G-Force sprang up on his hands, launching a kick into the man’s chin that sent him up and over the railing.

  “Holy shit!” Gi heard in his earpiece as he went after the other. He ignored the rifle and instead slipped out one of the two blades he always carried. Move like water, he thought. The other man was watching his partner, no doubt now becoming fish food.

  Gi used the opportunity to launch himself from nearly a dozen feet away. Too far for any practical attack. He closed the gap, hitting the man in the face with an elbow, then drove the knife blade into the hilt at the base of the neck. It was the one of two known vulnerabilities built into the civilian battle suits. Blood spurted out of the man’s mouth as he dropped to his knees in surprise.