Pulse

SIXTY-FOUR

Wind tore through the rear compartment of the Crescent as the rear hatch opened. It was cold enough to blister skin and powerful enough to suck a man's breath away, but Rook and Queen didn't feel its effects from within their thermal jumpsuits, face masks, and helmets. As the rear hatch continued to open, Rook looked over at Queen.

"You sure that's going to work?"

Queen looked down at the weapon she and Rook had rigged during the flight from Gibraltar. They had raided supplies from the both the onboard armory and medical suite. With advice from experts quickly assembled by Deep Blue they were able to create a high-power dart gun capable of firing three rounds full of Alexander Diotrephes's serum, which they had yet to test. Any number of things could go wrong. The gun could jam. The injection mechanisms could fail. The serum might not work.

"Without a doubt," Queen replied.

The hatch finished opening and the pi 1 ot's voice came over the comm. "Target sighted. Jump on my mark. Three…"

Rook hefted a heavy AT-4 SMAW (shoulder-launched multipurpose assault weapon) over his shoulder and strapped it down tight. It was loaded with a single high-explosive antiarmor rocket capable of obliterating any tank or armored vehicle in service.

"Two… "

He nudged Queen. "Hey, if I don't see you at the bottom…" "You'll see me in Hell." "I would have said—" "One. Go! Go! Go!"

Queen and Rook leaped from the back of the Crescent and quickly reached a terminal velocity of 124 miles per hour. The air pressure pushed against their top-heavy, weapon-laden bodies, threatening to make the fall an uncontrolled tumult, but both kept arms and legs spread wide, controlling the descent and staying on target.

The first minute of the two-and-a-half-minute drop passed in a blur of clouds that covered their face masks in mist. Once through the cloud cover, the mist evaporated, revealing the scene below.

The Hydra twisted and writhed under a constant barrage of Gatling-gun fire, shooting from the side of a small jet black helicopter. A pool of blood covered the field and reflected the sun. A small figure by a ruined SUV launched grenades, which blew gouts of blood and flesh away from the roaring creature. The sound of the roar was so powerful that it covered the distance to Rook and Queen, who heard it over the wind and through their helmets. But what caught Rook's attention as they closed in was the body laying in the grass, fifty yards from the Hydra. The man's size and dark skin made him wince. It was impossible to tell from this height, but his gut said the body was Bishop's. He lay twisted and still. A dark red pool covered the grass to his side.

He wanted to fall faster, but they had long since reached terminal velocity and would greet the ground in less than thirty seconds… far fewer if he forgot to pull his chute. He took hold of the ripcord and waited for the last possible second to cheat death.

Knight held his fire as the two falling specs grew in size. Rook and Queen were taking the express route down. He watched as both chutes popped and unfurled, snapping the two soldiers violently, but only slowing their decent enough to avoid death. After a quick semicircle decent, Queen hit the ground with a roll and came upright in a crouch. She intended to take aim and fire upon landing, but Hydra lunged at her billowing parachute, took hold of it, and yanked hard. Queen was tossed low and fast. She landed in the blood-soaked grass, sliding to a wet stop. She fought past her revulsion of being covered in rank-smelling blood, wiped the grime from her helmet's face mask, and took aim from where she lay. Lining up the Hydra was easy and she pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession. Three small projectiles shot from the weapon's muzzle. The first ricocheted off at an odd angle. The next two pierced Hydra's back and stuck there, dangling limply from its hide.

Hydra turned toward the source of what was merely a pinprick and saw Queen's parachute billow once more. It shrieked and charged the large fluid intruder.

Queen discarded the makeshift weapon and tried to stand and run out of the path of the oncoming behemoth, which now had its eyes on her. But she had become entangled in her parachute lines. She drew her knife, intending to cut herself free, but it was easy to see she wouldn't get loose soon enough. She drew her pistol and fired at the beast as it stormed toward her.

Rook landed hard on the shingled roof of the Snack Shack, denting it. But his momentum didn't slow. He rolled down the roof's incline, toppling head over heels, and fell over the edge. But the ten-foot drop to the grass below was stopped short when the chute snagged on the roof's cupola. He hung, three feet above the ground.

A shriek brought his head up as he swung back and forth on the parachute lines. He looked up and found the Hydra, massive and horrific, bearing down on Queen, who was firing a pistol at it. He had no idea if Queen had managed to inject the Hydra with the serum, and if she had, how long before it took effect. But there was no way he was about to let this thing trample Queen.

Rook unclipped and raised a beige cylinder to his shoulder and did his best to aim while hanging from the parachute lines. Not only did he have to line up the Hydra, he had to lead the last-moving creature. With only thirty feet between Hydra and Queen, he pulled the trigger. The SMAW boomed as a blast of flame burst from its back and a rocket shot from the front. The recoil, not normally enough to phase a crouched soldier, flung the hanging Rook back and up, smashing him against the roof's overhang, knocking the now spent antitank weapon from his hands.

Queen heard and recognized the noise. She dove down and curled into a tight ball, hoping the thick jumpsuit, flak jacket, and helmet would protect her from the blast.

The rocket blazed through the air, leaving a twisted coil of smoke in its wake. It covered the distance in seconds, striking the Hydra in the side before the beast could react. As the rocket penetrated the Hydra's side, it let out a wail — seven octaves of pain — before its body burst. Its bulk came apart in every direction, as its flesh was liquefied by the force wave and then charred by the flames. Fiery entrails rolled across the grass, leaving slick stains behind them. Necks and heads shot free, twisting in the air like loose ropes before landing. A wet crater was all that remained of the Hydra's body.

Rook shed his harness and helmet and ran to Queen. He helped her up out of the bloody soup, which covered her from head to toe. She wobbled for a moment, shook up by the explosion. With Rook's help, she removed the helmet, freeing her clean face and hair. "I'm okay," she said, looking up at him.

"Good," Rook said with a slight smile. Then he remembered the body he'd seen when descending. "Bishop!"

Together, they headed for Bishop. Knight approached from the SUV. The helicopter landed and idled as King and Beck exited. They all arrived by Bishop's body at the same time. No greetings were exchanged. No job well done. One of their own was down and they all wanted an answer to the same question. Was Bishop dead?

King knelt and checked Bishop's pulse.

His hand was angrily swatted away.

King jumped back as Bishop growled and stood. He took aim with his handgun.

"King…" Rook said.

"Two minutes ago he had a chunk the size of my head missing from his side. He's been torn apart, burned to a crisp, and doesn't have a scratch."

Queen shook her head. "He's a regen." She drew her side arm and took aim, as did Knight.

"Is that why he's been so pissy since Tristan?" Rook asked. King nodded.

Bishop's face was twisted with rage as he stood. He grunted, stumbled, then straightened, glaring at them. King placed his finger on the trigger.

"No way this is happening," Rook said, stepping forward, reaching a hand out.

What happened next was so quick, neither Queen nor King could get off a shot. Bishop stumbled forward, reached out, and fell into Rook's arms. He winced, grit his teeth, and clenched his eyes shut. When he opened them he looked at King. "You need to shoot me."

He tried to move away from Rook, but he held on tight, straining against the stronger man's struggle. Bishop let out a growl, yanked an arm free, and swung it at Rook. But he was tired and slow. Rook ducked, caught the arm, and pulled it behind Bishop's back. He kicked out his legs and put him facedown on the ground. Rook put his weigh on Bishop's back, pulling his arm back tight and pinning him.

"You're still you," Rook said. "You're still Delta. Choke it down. Beat it."

Bishop winced. His clenched fists shook as an internal rage like nothing he'd ever felt ate up his insides. "Shoot me!"

The two men struggled for a moment before Rook let him go. Bishop stood in a flash, face-to-face with Rook.

"If you go regen, I'll be the first to die," Rook said. "Now get a fucking grip."

Bishop stumbled, shaking, and was caught again by Rook. But he wasn't alone this time. King helped support Bishop's body, extending him help and trust, and like Rook, making himself vulnerable. Bishop fought harder, taking control of himself. He let go of them and stood on his own. His face calmed. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Control returned. His muscles cooled and stopped shaking. His breathing slowed. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at Rook and said, "I'm sorry. I—"

"Ahh, save it for when your future wife sees your little pecker."

Bishop smiled as his rage subsided further, then noticed the pungent smell of explosives and burned flesh hanging in the air. "Is it dead?"

They looked over the blood- and flesh-covered quad. King counted six unmoving heads, but movement caught his eye. One of the heads was still moving, writhing in a pool of blood. He ran to the back of the SUV and reappeared with a grenade. He strode to the head. It moved, but showed no response to his approach and it wasn't regenerating. Whatever Queen had shot it up with had done the trick. He pulled the pin on the concussion grenade, forced the Hydra's mouth open with his boot, and dropped it inside. He jumped back, shouted, "Fire in the hole!" and moved behind the SUV with the others. The grenade detonated with a muffled and very wet boom. The head burst like a melon, further adding to the rancid mess on the quad.

The Hydra, immortal once, buried for thousands of years and reborn in the present, was finally, and permanently, dead.

Motion in the forest caught King's eye. He spun toward it, taking aim.

"What's wrong?" Queen asked. "Saw something."

The others looked on, peering into the dark woods. Light filtered through the forest canopy as the trees swayed in the wind. Then a shadow moved against the wind. Unnatural. It hung between two trees, thirty feet up, watching them.

"What the…" King placed his finger on the trigger.

Rook recognized the ghostly shape and knew that gray flesh hid beneath the surface of its loose-fitting cloak. Another wraith. He put his hand on King's weapon and lowered it. "Let it go."

"What is it?" King asked.

"Let's just say they were on our side this time around." "What's it doing?"

"Making sure we got the job done," Queen said. She was sure of it. What bothered her about its appearance was that Alexander either had a way to get the creature halfway around the world as quickly as the Crescent, or he had an army of the things lurking in every dark nook of the planet.

The black wraith shoved off, landing on a pine deeper in the forest. It seemed to glide the distance between the trees, like a flying squirrel. It continued leaping from trunk to trunk, until the darkness concealed it.

King looked at Rook. "What about next time? Will it still be on our side?"

Rook shrugged. "Personally, I hope there isn't a next time." Queen nodded. "I second that."

King looked away from the trees and was struck by a terrifying thought. The PDA! Fearing that the valley would implode at any second, he pulled it out and looked at the screen. The timer showed fifteen seconds remaining and was still counting down. He was about to shout for the others to get to the helicopter when his phone rang. He answered it. "Lewis, it's still counting down!"

"What? Oh! No. You're all set. Ridley's PDA must not have registered the change. I stopped the countdown five minutes ago."

King let out his held breath. Thank God.

Aleman continued, "I was just calling to let you know I piggybacked into Manifold's VPN, stole their data, and dropped a worm to destroy their database. Ridley won't be able recover anything."

"Ridley is dead," King said. "Jumped out of a helicopter."

"Well, what comes around… "

"And then some. Got to go." King hung up the phone. The helicopter whined as its rotors spun up. King looked. Beck was there, in the back of the chopper, gun pointed at the pilot. She gave a wave.

He didn't try to stop her, nor did the team. They all knew she'd be arrested and imprisoned, possibly without trial, thanks to Manifold's affiliation with terrorist organizations. But she had been as instrumental in stopping Ridley, Reinhart, and Manifold as the rest of them. She'd earned her freedom.

Frightened campers began to stream out of hiding, gasping and talking loudly. Some pointed at King and Bishop saying, "It's them!" "They came back," and "They blew up the devil!" Kids whooped and cheered. King saw the boy who had flipped him off upon entering the campground. This time he offered a thumbs-up and a smile. King returned the thumbs-up and then turned to the others as the helicopter banked away and disappeared over the trees. "So we've got a forest full of scared scientists, more than a few rogue Gen-Y soldiers on the run, one hell of a mess to clean up, and more than a few wounds to dress." He looked at Bishop. "Well, some of us. What's the game plan?"

Queen reached into her vest and pulled out a vial of brown liquid. "I say we have Deep Blue call in the feds, have them handle cleanup, and get this to your friend."

King took the vial, swished it around, and looked at the liquid. "Sounds like a plan." He paused and then squinted at Queen. "By the way, where did you find this?"