United as One
Page 60
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THERE’S A PLATOON OF CANADIAN SPECIAL OPS camped in a patch of woods three miles south of Niagara Falls. They’re about fifty strong, built to move fast but also equipped with some serious firepower, including surface-to-air missiles. The warship we’ve come here to commandeer isn’t visible from where they’re stationed. They’ve made it a point to stay out of sight, for obvious reason. However, they’ve got a few scouts skulking around Niagara Falls, broadcasting back grainy footage of the warship hovering, Skimmers combing the nearby wilderness, vatborn troops on the ground inspecting the dormant Loralite stone.
They feed us all this intel as soon as we land and otherwise don’t interfere. I could get used to Canadian hospitality.
If things go bad on the warship, this small team of Special Ops will cover our retreat. Our survival, according to their commanding officer, is their only priority. They’ve been apprised of our “strategic value.”
All this is thanks to General Lawson. I guess sometimes it isn’t so bad to have the government in your corner.
In Lexa’s ship, parked now alongside the Special Ops Humvees, I buckle an improvised vest across my chest. A cloaking device is hooked up to the front, plugged into a battery pack hastily stitched at the small of my back. This is what’s going to get me on board that warship.
“You sure I can’t come?” Nine asks me for the twentieth time.
“I can only carry two,” I reply. “Six needs to come in case I screw up our invisibility, and Adam is obviously crucial to—”
“Flying your stolen warship,” Adam interjects with a shake of his head. I glance at him, catch him running a hand through his black hair. He looks skeptical. In fact, most of my friends have looked skeptical since I unveiled my plan to commandeer the warship. Adam continues on. “You know, I’ve only flown a warship in a simulator. It’s also not a one-person job. Not if you want weapons on line.”
“I have faith in you,” I reply. “Worst-case scenario, we crash the thing into the falls. One less of them to worry about.”
“How many Mogadorians will be on that warship?” Marina asks, directing her question to Adam.
He gives me an uncertain look before answering. “Probably thousands,” he says. “To get control of the ship, we’ll need to make it to the bridge.”
“And the bridge is where?” I ask Adam.
“Assuming we get in through the docking bay, it’ll be at the opposite end of the ship.”
“Thousands,” Marina repeats.
“At least we’re lucky that some are patrolling the surrounding area. Spreads them a little thinner,” Adam adds, although he sounds apprehensive.
“It’s an army,” Marina says. She shakes her head. “That’s crazy, John. Stealing the cloaking devices from under their noses was one thing, but taking on this many alone . . .”
“We won’t be alone.”
With the vest strapped securely to my chest, I open up a zippered pocket on the front. Immediately, Bernie Kosar shrinks down to the size of a mouse. With a glance at his fellow Chimæra, Dust does the same. We left the rest of the Chimærae at Patience Creek with instructions to watch over the human Garde. I crouch down and pick up both Chimærae, depositing them safely in my vest pocket. Marina raises an eyebrow at me.
“So you’ve gone from thousands-against-three to thousands-against-five,” Marina replies. She clears her throat. “John, I know what you’re feeling—”
I cut her off with a wave of my hand and meet her eyes. I know that the odds seem bad. I know that I’ve seemed cold the last couple of days and maybe a little crazy, and I’m sure the vibe I’m giving off hasn’t gotten any better since the dark dream I shared with Setrákus Ra last night. I can tell from the way they’re all looking at me that I’m coming off a little unhinged. But even if that’s true, I know I can accomplish this. I can feel the power coursing through me.
One warship isn’t enough to stop me.
“You have to believe in me,” I tell Marina, keeping my tone measured, hoping that she can feel my certainty, see it in my eyes. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve got it under control.”
“Look,” Six says before Marina or Nine can register any more protests. “Adam and I will focus on getting the cloaking devices off the Skimmers without being noticed. Like the plan was originally. And John will concentrate on holding off the Mogs. If he happens to kill a couple thousand of them in the process, all the better. If not, we bail.”
THERE’S A PLATOON OF CANADIAN SPECIAL OPS camped in a patch of woods three miles south of Niagara Falls. They’re about fifty strong, built to move fast but also equipped with some serious firepower, including surface-to-air missiles. The warship we’ve come here to commandeer isn’t visible from where they’re stationed. They’ve made it a point to stay out of sight, for obvious reason. However, they’ve got a few scouts skulking around Niagara Falls, broadcasting back grainy footage of the warship hovering, Skimmers combing the nearby wilderness, vatborn troops on the ground inspecting the dormant Loralite stone.
They feed us all this intel as soon as we land and otherwise don’t interfere. I could get used to Canadian hospitality.
If things go bad on the warship, this small team of Special Ops will cover our retreat. Our survival, according to their commanding officer, is their only priority. They’ve been apprised of our “strategic value.”
All this is thanks to General Lawson. I guess sometimes it isn’t so bad to have the government in your corner.
In Lexa’s ship, parked now alongside the Special Ops Humvees, I buckle an improvised vest across my chest. A cloaking device is hooked up to the front, plugged into a battery pack hastily stitched at the small of my back. This is what’s going to get me on board that warship.
“You sure I can’t come?” Nine asks me for the twentieth time.
“I can only carry two,” I reply. “Six needs to come in case I screw up our invisibility, and Adam is obviously crucial to—”
“Flying your stolen warship,” Adam interjects with a shake of his head. I glance at him, catch him running a hand through his black hair. He looks skeptical. In fact, most of my friends have looked skeptical since I unveiled my plan to commandeer the warship. Adam continues on. “You know, I’ve only flown a warship in a simulator. It’s also not a one-person job. Not if you want weapons on line.”
“I have faith in you,” I reply. “Worst-case scenario, we crash the thing into the falls. One less of them to worry about.”
“How many Mogadorians will be on that warship?” Marina asks, directing her question to Adam.
He gives me an uncertain look before answering. “Probably thousands,” he says. “To get control of the ship, we’ll need to make it to the bridge.”
“And the bridge is where?” I ask Adam.
“Assuming we get in through the docking bay, it’ll be at the opposite end of the ship.”
“Thousands,” Marina repeats.
“At least we’re lucky that some are patrolling the surrounding area. Spreads them a little thinner,” Adam adds, although he sounds apprehensive.
“It’s an army,” Marina says. She shakes her head. “That’s crazy, John. Stealing the cloaking devices from under their noses was one thing, but taking on this many alone . . .”
“We won’t be alone.”
With the vest strapped securely to my chest, I open up a zippered pocket on the front. Immediately, Bernie Kosar shrinks down to the size of a mouse. With a glance at his fellow Chimæra, Dust does the same. We left the rest of the Chimærae at Patience Creek with instructions to watch over the human Garde. I crouch down and pick up both Chimærae, depositing them safely in my vest pocket. Marina raises an eyebrow at me.
“So you’ve gone from thousands-against-three to thousands-against-five,” Marina replies. She clears her throat. “John, I know what you’re feeling—”
I cut her off with a wave of my hand and meet her eyes. I know that the odds seem bad. I know that I’ve seemed cold the last couple of days and maybe a little crazy, and I’m sure the vibe I’m giving off hasn’t gotten any better since the dark dream I shared with Setrákus Ra last night. I can tell from the way they’re all looking at me that I’m coming off a little unhinged. But even if that’s true, I know I can accomplish this. I can feel the power coursing through me.
One warship isn’t enough to stop me.
“You have to believe in me,” I tell Marina, keeping my tone measured, hoping that she can feel my certainty, see it in my eyes. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve got it under control.”
“Look,” Six says before Marina or Nine can register any more protests. “Adam and I will focus on getting the cloaking devices off the Skimmers without being noticed. Like the plan was originally. And John will concentrate on holding off the Mogs. If he happens to kill a couple thousand of them in the process, all the better. If not, we bail.”
