Jessica ran past the downed agents, desperate for fresh air. Cassidy looked over at Nevis, her hologram cast against the top of the tunnel because of Amman’s collapse.

  “Damn it, Cassidy,” she said. “You can’t do this. Dorne lied to you.”

  “Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. I’m not rogue, Captain. But I am going to determine what’s true for myself.” He raised his foot over Amman’s wrist. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He brought the foot down, smashing the projector and banishing Nevis from the tunnel.

  Cassidy looked back at Garrett and Jazz. Garrett bent over, removing the spent gas canister from the pack and placing it on the floor before picking up the bag.

  Jazz smiled and shook his head. “What do you have, ESP or something?”

  “No, but I have been with the Initiative for seventy years. You learn a thing or two. Let’s go.”

  They moved away from the gas and the downed agents. They would wake up in an hour or so, but if Cassidy was still in the spire at that point he deserved to be killed.

  Returning to the elevator, they found Jessica waiting with a big smile on her face. “You called it, Cass.”

  “That’s hardly cause for celebration,” Cassidy replied, beginning to tear off the hazmat suit as quickly as he could. “They let us in so Nevis’ people could jump us. They know we’re not friendly, and Nevis is probably calling in the cavalry and reaching out to Praan as we speak.”

  “You said the hard part would be getting inside. We’re inside.” She took her phone out of her coat pocket and started tapping on it. “And now we have override control of the security system.” She smiled, digging an earpiece out of her coat pocket and shoving it in her ear.

  Cassidy did the same with his. “Overlord, do you copy?” he asked.

  “We copy,” Shell replied.

  “Are you in position?”

  “We are.”

  “I’m passing security control to you,” Jessica said. “Do you have our beacons?”

  “Bright and clear,” Brie answered. “I even color-coded them so I could tell you all apart.”

  “What color am I?” Jazz asked, getting his earpiece in.

  “Green.”

  “Can I be purple?”

  “You’re green.”

  Cassidy looked at Jazz, who shrugged. “I like purple.”

  “Here,” Garrett said, handing Jazz his shotgun and two extra magazines. Jazz shoved the mags into the belt around his waist and changed into dark fatigues that weren’t much different than the clothes the agents wore.

  Garrett collected his rifle and two extra mags, and they moved to the stairwell to make the quick ascent back to the maintenance lobby.

  “Underdog, someone just tripped the sensor on the access door,” Shell announced.

  “Why didn’t you shut it down?” Cassidy asked.

  “No time,” Brie replied. “I’m sorry. I locked it behind them.”

  “Do we have a camera feed?”

  “Patching you in.”

  Cassidy pulled his needlegun and dug his phone from his pocket, looking down at the camera feed. Another squad of agents had made it into the lobby, and they were turning toward the stairs.

  “Incoming,” Cassidy said, pointing his rifle at the door.

  “I got this,” Jazz said, moving ahead as the door burst open. He fired his shotgun, the shells ripping into the armored agent and throwing him back into the others. Charging up the rest of the steps, he reached the top before the agents could return fire.

  Cassidy watched Jazz emerge into the lobby through the camera feed. He blasted another agent with his shotgun before rushing a third, hitting him hard enough to shove him into the wall. He ducked and fired again, hitting the fourth. The remaining agent was about to shoot him when Jessica put a needle through his skull.

  Cassidy exhaled as he shoved the phone back into his pocket and finished climbing the stairs, regrouping with the others outside the elevators.

  “Do you think Praan’s really having a party?” Jazz asked. “Somehow, I don’t see him sitting around slurping caviar while we’re down here busting UDF agents.”

  “I do,” Cassidy replied. “He’s surrounded by former Marines and more agents are incoming. He won’t want to look like a bad host in front of his guests.”

  “I wonder who a guy like Praan invites over for dinner,” Garrett said.

  “Maybe that’s what we’re here to find out,” Jessica replied. “Overlord, do you have the elevator?”

  “It’s on the way,” Brie replied.

  “Do you have eyes on the rest of the spire?” Cassidy asked.

  “Negative. There are no cameras outside of maintenance.”

  “That makes sense. Anyone he doesn’t know or trust comes through that door.”

  “Not anymore,” Jessica said.

  “How are your knees holding up, old man?” Jazz asked.

  “Well enough after the last swig of Piss,” Cassidy replied. “I’ve probably got two hits of the concentrate left. I’m saving it for later.”

  The elevator cab arrived, the doors sliding open. The interior was almost fully gold-plated, with ornate handrails and a Persian rug on the floor, cut to fit.

  “Ouch,” Jazz said, looking down at it. “That’s probably a priceless antique.”

  “Which floor?” Brie asked.

  “As high as we can take it,” Cassidy replied.

  “Copy that. Here you go.”

  They started to ascend.

  Chapter 47

  The maintenance elevator didn’t take them all the way to the top of the spire. It didn’t take them up very far at all. Of course, there was little reason for a large portion of the outside help to enter the private residence of Bizrathi Praan. He had hundreds of employees for that. Maids, janitors, technicians, nannies and whatever else he needed. For the few occasions when he did bring in people from outside who needed to reach the top of the spire, it was easy enough to guide them from one elevator to the next, placed on the opposite end of the tower to make it harder for any random visitor to go up to the main residence.

  Cassidy and the others already knew about the limitation. It was part of what made their ingress more complicated and challenging. With both the UDF and Praan himself aware they were inside, he expected the scion to move his security detail into position to cover the arrival of the elevator.

  To add to the complication, the occupied floors at the first stage of the climb served as residences for that same security detail. There was no way to know how many remained in the quarters until they arrived. Any of the guards who had been asleep up to the moment they had gassed the UDF agents had probably been woken and urged into action to defend the segment of the spire from invasion.

  Cassidy guessed that would put the bulk of the opposition on the top floor of the barracks, closest to the elevator. They couldn’t do much about that. With the element of surprise lost, they would have to fight their way out of the cab and onto the floor if they were going to have any chance of reaching their objective. Under normal circumstances, that kind of full-frontal assault would probably end in a bloodbath of failure, to the extent that there would be little point to continue.

  But these weren’t normal circumstances.

  Brie had control of the Spire’s security systems, and as long as she kept Praan’s people from taking it back, the group had a lot more control than the other side was probably accounting for. They exhibited that first measure of control as the elevator neared the top floor of the barracks.

  Jessica squatted to unzip the tool bag and remove an assault rifle. “Jazz, here.” She handed it up to him.

  He took the weapon in his right hand, “Here, hold onto this for me, but don’t pack it up,” he said, passing her the shotgun with his other hand.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied. “Cass, are you ready to move?”

  Cassidy put his hand on top of his wrist, using the stim ring to inject himself with more of the cocktail. A warm chill slipped through him as it spread into his system, removing the minor ache he still felt in Hall’s knees. “I am now.”

  Garrett and Jazz moved to the front of the cab, their rifles up, eyes aligned on the sights. Cassidy noticed both of them shudder slightly in a subtle but tell-tale sign that they had used their Slivers to release some of the stimulants stored in their bodies. It would bolster both their strength and reaction time. And would steady their nerves. If they were nervous at all. Cassidy couldn’t tell with Jazz, and Garrett seemed almost excited.

  The lift stopped quickly, jerking slightly. The elevator doors on the floor parted halfway, revealing they were still between floors with just enough space to allow Garrett and Jazz to shoot out into the hallway through the gap.

  Their rifles spewed hot metal as soon as the doors cleared. Looking past Jazz and Garrett’s shoulders, Cassidy could see the steady stream of automatic fire pouring into the guards in the corridor. They were lined up in a formation that allowed them to achieve a high density of coverage without risking friendly fire. Some crouched. Others stood to fire back, but they didn’t have a prayer.

  Their aim was too high, and they weren’t ready to shoot as the bullets from Jazz and Garrett’s guns tore into them. The defensive line toppled within the first few seconds.

  “Brie, close the doors!” Cassidy shouted over the staccato barrage of fire and the cries of the wounded and dying.

  “Copy,” she replied.

  The elevator doors closed and the cab dropped a couple of feet, giving Jazz and Garrett time to drop their nearly empty magazines from their rifles and slap in fresh ones. Garrett nodded to Cassidy. He was ready for round two.

  “We all go in,” Cassidy said. “Brie, get us a foot over the edge.”

  “Copy,” Brie replied. “Here goes.”

  The elevator rose again, stopping higher this time. When the doors slid aside, the remaining guards in the hallway fired too low. Jazz and Garrett didn’t. They cut down another six guards before the rest retreated to cover in doorways or back around corners at the end of the corridor.

  Cassidy and the others rushed out of the elevator and onto the floor. Needlegun in hand as they walked quickly down the corridor, Cassidy maintained a clear line of fire past Garrett’s shoulder. But he didn’t get off a shot. Whenever a guard popped out to shoot, Jazz put a bullet in their head before they could squeeze off a round, his advanced Sliver spotting the movement before normal eyesight could even register it. They could hear the running footsteps of the last two guards as they fled down the adjoining corridor. It didn’t necessarily mean they had given up the fight.

  “Doorway sensors are buzzing on the floor below you,” Brie announced.

  “Copy,” Cassidy said. He and Jessica turned around, their backs to Jazz and Garrett while they waited for the guards to burst through the door to the stairs. They didn’t have to wait long. The newcomers were dressed in nothing more than basic utilities and carried only sidearms. They were gun fodder, no doubt roused from their sleep in the barracks and sent to fight a battle they couldn’t win.

  “Hold your fire,” Cassidy said, lowering his needlegun and rushing toward the guards. Behind him, Jessica sighed in frustration. He didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to engage these men in such an unfair fight.

  Not that it was fair anyway, only less lethal. The security guards were all Marines. Hall’s body wasn’t up to hand-to-hand combat, but Cassidy was a Marine. And a lot more. He pulled his coat in front of him to deflect the first few rounds that came his way before throwing himself at the nearest guard. He slapped the gun from his hand and ducked below his left hook. He grabbed the guard around the waist and used his momentum to push him back into the guards behind him, knocking three of them to the floor. He crouched low, sweeping his leg around to take the feet out from under another. He brought the butt of his needlegun down on the man’s temple, knocking him out cold.

  Jessica reached him just as the three men Cassidy had bowled over regained their footing. She kicked the gun out of the nearest man’s hand before dropping and punching him hard in the groin. He cried and went down, rolling into a fetal ball, out of action at least for the moment. She used his shoulder for a spring board, leaping high enough to wrap her legs around a guard’s throat, the force of her body hitting him enough to topple him over backwards. She came down on his chest and cracked him in the side of the head with her rifle butt.

  Hall’s body wasn’t fast enough for Cassidy to get to her before a pistol round bounced off the back of her jacket, the painful force of it laying her face down on the man she’d just knocked out. Cassidy hit the shooter from the side, bashing him into the wall and breaking his nose with a hard, stim-enhanced punch. He pivoted from there, grabbing the gun of another guard and dragging it aside as the gun fired the bullet into the wall. He turned, getting his hands on the man bringing him over his shoulder to the floor. A kick to the head kept him there.

  “Clear,” he said, the six guards who had come through the stairwell door all down for the count. “You okay?” he asked, giving Jessica a hand up. She didn’t get a chance to answer.

  “Whenever you two are done screwing around, we’re good to go,” Jazz called out.

  The wisecrack elicited a grin and a shrug from Jessica. She turned and Cassidy watched her walk back through the carnage. Downed guards lie splayed across the quickly staining carpet, the route from one elevator to the other free of obstacles other than dead bodies. Cassidy sprinted to where Jessica, Garrett and Jazz stood. As he ran past them, they joined him in a run to the elevator at the opposite end of the corridor.

  “Brie, we’re ready for the second elevator,” Cassidy said. “Bring us up.”

  “Copy, Cass.”

  A few seconds later the elevator doors opened, the cab already there, waiting for them. They hurried inside.

  “We’re in. Take us up.”

  The doors closed and they ascended once more.

  Chapter 48

  “Cassidy,” Shell said over the comm, her voice quivering. “Traffic patterns are changing in a hurry around the Spire. There’s a mess of police activity moving in, along with UDF rotos.”

  “Are any of them headed toward your position?” Cassidy asked.

  “Negative,” she replied. “Not yet, anyway. It looks like they’re forming a perimeter to keep the civilian rotos away from the scene.”

  “Standard operating procedure,” Cassidy said. “Nevis will prevent the bureau from getting too aggressive with their less clandestine operators until she’s certain she can’t contain us. They’ll stick tight to the scene, ready to move in, but she’s got the final word.”

  “She can’t contain us,” Jazz said.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Cassidy replied. “We aren’t there yet.”

  He was sure Praan would have additional guards stationed on the top floor of the employee residences—the apartments of the maids, housekeepers, cooks and other service staff who kept the Spire in order. If whoever was maneuvering the guards was smart, they wouldn’t try to ambush them at the elevator again. Better tactics would be to use the layout of the residential section to their advantage and ambush them on their way to the next elevator.

  “Cass, do you want me to pull up early?” Brie asked.

  “Yes,” Cassidy replied. “Drop us off on the penultimate floor. We’ll take the stairs from there.”

  “Cass, that’s going to cost us time,” Jessica said. “This is staff housing. There won’t be much security here.”

  “Any other time, I might agree with that assessment,” Cassidy said. “But Praan’s throwing a party.”

  “So?”

  “So he probably doesn’t want a heavy contingent of security making his guests uneasy. Which means he’ll have moved them to this level. If anyone’s still up top, they’re UDF. I guarantee it. Brie, do it.”

  “You got it,” Brie replied. “In five, four, three…” She trailed off as the elevator slowed to a stop. Even though they expected nothing in the way of a welcoming committee, they held their weapons at the ready when the doors opened.

  Cassidy and the others stepped out into the corridor. Just as he had expected, the floor was devoid of visible security. A stairwell was off to the right, but he didn’t want to use that particular one. “Shell, according to the blueprints we’ve got two additional staircases in the residences, correct?”

  “You have a sharp memory,” she confirmed. “You’re correct. There’s two more access stairwells on opposite sides of the floor.”

  “This is where we split up,” Cassidy said to the group. “Garrett, you’re with me. We’ll sweep back and meet in the middle.”

  “What if we run into opposition?” Jessica asked.

  “Take it out,” he replied. “And call it in. If we can catch them in a crossfire it’ll be safer and easier for us.”

  “Copy that,” Garrett said.

  “Shell, keep us apprised,” Cassidy said.

  “Copy,” she replied.

  He glanced at Jessica, who offered a soft smile before she and Jazz moved forward to the first intersection. Cassidy and Garrett trailed behind them, turning left when they went right. The corridors were clear, the activity in the staff residence minimal.

  “Cass, I’ve got door sensor activity ahead and on your left,” Shell said.

  “Copy,” he replied.

  He held his needlegun in his right hand, using his left to keep it steady as he neared the corner, leading with the weapon as he came around it. An older woman in a maid’s uniform froze when she saw him, the drink she was holding falling from her hand.

  “It’s okay,” Cassidy said, lowering the weapon. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She stared at him, and then turned and ran back to one of the doors that lined the hallway, shoving her way inside and slamming it shut behind her.

  “Twenty coin she’s going to call security,” Garrett said behind him.