The Prometheus Trap (The New Prometheus Book 3) Page 5

  Which meant she really only had one option, and that was to hunt through the building for them while doing her best not to get killed. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to suffice for now.

  Frankie blew out a deep breath and adjusted the grip she had on her rifle before continuing on through the building. The footprint of this and other support buildings was huge. Because they acted as weight bearing pillars for the city above, they were built big and strong, filled with apartments, public spaces, atriums, conference rooms, shopping areas, and more. They were self-contained cities almost. You could live within one and never have to leave. But, they were also magnets for crime and gangs, meaning that life within these blocks was often tough and occasionally brutal.

  Without a net connection, Frankie was unable to download a floorplan. Instead, she chose to make her own map, her mind automatically recorded her movements and mapped them as she went.

  She spotted a few cameras as she moved, but decided against taking them out. They’d see her do it and broken cameras would mark her path as she went just as well as working ones. She was also under no illusion that she would not find all of them anyway. It was inevitable that any hidden ones would probably be missed; some of them anyway. Besides, she wanted to conserve her ammunition.

  As she walked, she could hear the occasional bout of gunfire coming from far off within the building, or the sound of a circling flyer outside of the outer walls. They were hunting her.

  A few corridors later, Frankie saw that the passage she was in came to an end up ahead and opened up into a larger space. She paused for a moment, listening intently, but heard nothing.

  With a frown, Frankie moved forward, getting a bad feeling about this as she went.

  The space turned out to be a wide spacious balcony above an open shopping area. Below that seemed very quiet. Wide stairways led both down to the shops below, and up to another balcony above her. Leaning on the chrome hand rail up ahead was a curious looking woman. She wore a fitted black bodysuit, similar to Frankie’s own stealth suit, except this one was deep black and very shiny, like polished black marble with a high sheen.

  It looked more like a fetish cat suit than a stealth suit, but that was all no doubt cosmetic, and it would act like high-tech armour just as Frankie’s did.

  The woman wore heels and had her peroxide blonde hair combed tightly back away from her face. She was good looking, too, with a striking appearance to her that Frankie would not soon forget.

  Frankie also couldn’t help but notice the sword strapped to the woman’s back and the side arm strapped to her leg.

  Frankie paused and glanced about, spotting another figure on the balcony above her silhouetted by the lights behind, who was clearly carrying a long rifle and watching them.

  The blonde stepped away from the handrail that looked over the shops below, her movement in the corner of Frankie’s eye bringing her attention back to the woman in black.

  ‘So, you’re Frankie Gene?’ she said, looking her up and down, appraising her. ‘Hmmm,’ she said. ‘I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, but it’s really not.’

  Frankie aimed her gun more squarely at her. ‘You can stay right there,’ she said.

  The blonde stopped. ‘Right here?’ she asked, sarcasm leaking from every word.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘To you? I’m death incarnate, but you can call me Hellion,’ she said.

  ‘Is that right?’ Frankie said.

  ‘You did well, back there in the atrium. I thought we’d get one of you for sure, but it looks like we underestimated you. You’re good, I’ll give you that.’

  ‘You did this?’ Frankie asked, feeling the anger rise within her.

  ‘But of course. Shit, you’re a little slow on the uptake, aren’t you,’ Hellion commented.

  Frankie frowned. She still felt in shock from the ambush and worrying about her teammates; she really didn’t want to be trading insults with some dominatrix.

  ‘It seems like you pissed off some people, Frankie. Pissed them off enough for them to hire me to deal with you and your little team,’ Hellion continued.

  ‘Oh, fuck off,’ Frankie said and squeezed the trigger on her rifle. She’d had her dead to rights, a clean shot, but Hellion moved quicker than Frankie had given her credit for, darting to Frankie’s left, her sword in her hand, crouched and ready. Frankie adjusted her aim and fired again.

  Hellion’s blade moved in a blur of chrome, spitting sparks here and there as it smashed Frankie’s bullets from the air before they hit their target.

  A second later, Hellion was on her, swinging her sword in, but Frankie could be quick, too, and used her own gun to parry the swing, before smashing the butt of the rifle into Hellion’s face.

  Knocked back, Hellion spun and stopped in another ready pose.

  ‘Not so slow, after all,’ Hellion said.

  ‘You’ll find I’m full of surprises,’ Frankie replied.

  Hellion relaxed and rose to her full height once again. It was partly her heels, but also because she was simply quite statuesque, that she stood nearly a whole head above Frankie.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure, but then, so am I,’ she said. More movement behind Hellion caught Frankie’s eye. She looked to see a thin man wearing a long black coat with shades hiding his eyes and his long dark hair slicked back pushing Dion out of a door. This man pointed a gun at Dion’s head and stopped a short distance into the balcony space.

  ‘Stop, get down on your knees and don’t do anything stupid,’ his captor said to Dion.

  Frankie cursed under her breath.

  3.06

  Dion looked over at her. He had bruises on him and wore an embarrassed expression on his face. His hands were behind his back and were likely bound with cuffs of some kind.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dion muttered.

  ‘No need to be sorry, Dion, it’s not your fault. Are you okay?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said, his expression toughening. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he said bravely.

  ‘Shut up,’ said the man with the gun behind him, hitting Dion on the side of the head to punctuate his words.

  Frankie turned her gaze back to Hellion, staring at her and channelled her hate and rage through her eyes.

  ‘You look pissed, Frankie. Good,’ Hellion said.

  ‘You won’t g…’

  ‘…get away with this?’ Hellion interrupted, finishing her sentence. ‘Don’t be so clichéd, and of course I will. It would be naïve of you to think otherwise.’

  ‘Now, where were we?’ Hellion said, whipping her sword about in a manner that displayed her skill with it before she lunged forward, slashing at Frankie. Frankie parried her again, accidentally catching the blade in a nook in the gun. Frankie twisted the rifle, taking Hellion by surprise, putting her off balance, and took the opportunity to deliver a savage kick to the woman’s side.

  Hellion went flying backwards as shots suddenly rang out from above and in front of her. The sniper above her and the man with Dion were firing at her but had missed. Frankie turned and ran, keeping her movements unpredictable and moving from side to side, somehow managing to dodge all the shots fired at her as she ducked into cover and kept on running. She slowed down a couple of corridors in after taking a few random turns to lose them. She looked around as she continued walking, keeping an eye out for any more trouble. Things were worse than she had thought, it seemed.

  She’d been right. It was an ambush and appeared to be under the control of this Hellion, a private contractor working for the Corporations. If she had to guess, she would probably say it would most likely be Psytech throwing their weight around again. Going with a private contractor was an interesting choice, though. They probably wanted to limit their accountability and wanted some new ideas, but this was all conjecture on her part.

  Needless to say, this Hellion was a capable fighter and possessed some skills that Frankie had not seen before. She guessed Hellion was likel
y a full body cyborg like herself, which would explain her speed and abilities.

  That was bad enough news, but the revelation that they also had Dion in custody was going one step beyond.

  The situation had just become worse, and as she found herself at another junction, she looked left to see the outer edge of the building.

  They could really do with some help: some reinforcements in here, but it could be hours before they were noticed as missing. She needed to get a message out somehow. Frankie moved down the corridor, past apartment doors, and towards the window up ahead.

  If she could just get out the building, she thought, she could jump to the street. She’d dropped that far in the past, so she could do it again, and if she got some distance between her and the building, then maybe she could re-establish a connection to the net and call the base. Get some help over here, she thought. She wouldn’t be long, and she’d return to the building as fast as she could. That wasn’t abandoning her friends. That was just being practical.

  ‘You okay there, missy. You look troubled,’ said an elderly sounding voice from nearby.

  Frankie looked up, bringing herself back to reality after having lost herself in her mind.

  ‘I’m fine, ma’am. You should stay inside,’ Frankie said to the woman. She wore a wrinkled dress and cardigan with her silver hair in curls about her head.

  ‘Did I hear some guns a moment ago? Was that you?’ she asked.

  Frankie looked down at the large rifle she was holding, and then back up at the woman. ‘I had something to do with it, yes,’ she admitted.

  ‘You youngun’s, always going about shooting everyone. What’s the world coming to?’ she muttered.

  ‘I agree, but I work for the government. There’s some criminals in the building which we’re trying to deal with. It really would be better if you stayed inside, okay?’

  The old woman nodded. ‘Of course, dear, I understand,’ she said.

  Frankie smiled and continued on down the corridor, making her way towards the window. She stayed a short distance away and waited. There was a flyer circling the building; she could hear it even now, so she waited for it to pass by once more, giving her the best chance and longest time possible to get out. The flyer swung by, its rotors hammering away as its spotlight swept the building.

  Frankie shook her head. They really were pulling out all the stops to capture them. This was crazy.

  She edged closer to the window as the flyer swept past, and moments before it disappeared, she grabbed the window, heaving it up and open.

  The cool air washed over her as she looked out, her view no longer obscured by the dirt and grime on both sides of the glass. She went to lift her leg up and over, and suddenly saw two mechs on the street below her, and another a little further up the road, patrolling the base of the building.

  A glint of light off metal flashed in the corner of her eye, catching her attention. Frankie looked up to the rooftop of the building opposite and noticed a large gun emplacement up there that was angling its cannon right at her.

  ‘Shit,’ Frankie hissed and jumped back inside. She took two steps from the window at a sprint, running right towards the old woman who was still standing in her doorway when the window behind her shattered and exploded into the corridor as the high calibre rounds slammed into the building. Frankie grabbed the woman and dove into her apartment with her while the hallway outside was ripped apart.

  She lay on the floor with the woman for a few more seconds until the gunfire ceased, expecting at any moment for the gunman to sweep to his right and shoot blindly into the building, hitting her in the back. But it never came. Frankie sat up.

  Had she dodged them all? she wondered. Suddenly, a small flashing red icon caught her attention and a muted stinging sensation on her thigh started to register. She looked down to see her stealth suit sporting a rip on her left leg and the half inch wound beneath it. Her synth skin had been torn away to reveal the pink and grey Ballistic Polymer below. It was just a minor flesh wound, and wouldn’t really affect her at all, but it was a timely reminder that she was not invincible.

  ‘Are you okay,’ Frankie asked the old woman.

  ‘I think so. Wooo! What a ride. Thank you, young lady. I think you just saved my life,’ she said as Frankie helped her back to her feet.

  ‘Anyone else would have done the same,’ Frankie said, deflecting the compliment.

  ‘Who was that?’ she asked.

  ‘The Corporations. They want me dead.’

  ‘You’re fighting them?’

  ‘We’re trying to,’ Frankie admitted.

  ‘Well, you tell them, from me, to go take a running jump,’ she said.

  ‘I will be sure to do that.’ Frankie smiled.

  ‘I mean it,’ she said in a more serious tone. ‘You go out there, and you sort them out,’ she said.

  Frankie looked back at the old lady, meeting her steely gaze. ‘I will, I promise.’

  The woman looked right back at her as if searching for any glimmer of deception, but smiled after a moment. ‘Good,’ she said seriously, before her tone lightened. She picked up a tin from her kitchen surface, opened it and offered it towards her. ‘Cookie?’ she asked.

  Frankie couldn’t help but laugh, the mundanity and kindness of the gesture seemed so out of place in what was a rather desperate situation.

  ‘Thank you, but no, I’ll pass,’ she said.

  ‘That’s okay, dear,’ the old lady said with a smile, picking one out for herself and taking a bite. ‘You pop back anytime, now. You’re always welcome,’ she said.

  Frankie thanked the kind old lady and set out once more into the building, being careful to avoid being seen by the cannon operator on the nearby rooftop.

  Once she was safely away, Frankie paused once more and wondered what her next move should be. Her situation had not really changed; the only difference was that the exit she had hoped to use had turned out to be blocked. But getting out of the building still seemed to be the best option for her. So, if leaving out the sides of the building was not possible, that left either up or down. Her reinforcements were up on the mid-level, above the block, so it seemed like the obvious way to go. Of course, she thought, it’s likely that both of those directions would turn out to be guarded as well. If these guys had gone to the trouble of surrounding the building to try and keep her and her team inside, then they’re unlikely to have left the only other two ways out unguarded.

  But, maybe it would be easier to fight her way through corridors. Maybe she could try to fight these guys on her terms a little more. She didn’t have much of an option, really. What else was she supposed to do? She either needed to find her friends or somehow get the word out that they needed help. Hiding somewhere, the only other option, would accomplish none of those things. Sure, she’d likely live longer, maybe, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. It might be the safe thing, maybe even the smart thing, but she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if her friends died while she cowered in a corner somewhere. No, she needed to do something, anything, and trying to get out made the most sense to her. After all, it was likely what her friends were attempting to do right now anyway, so there was a better chance of her finding them and teaming up if she were out there herself.

  With that in mind, she started to walk through the floor, following signs to the nearest stairwell. It took her a few minutes to find it, but she didn’t want to rush. She moved slowly and methodically, always ready for another enemy to appear around the next corner.

  Eventually, she found one of the central access areas, which contained a bank of four closed elevator doors and, just beyond a closed fire door, a stairwell that rose through the entire building.

  She scanned the room but saw nothing to worry her. Satisfied, she moved forward and up next to the door, listening for any movement. She heard nothing, though, so she eased the door open and crept slowly out onto the landing area just beyond it. Before her, a flight of stairs led down, while another led
up. She paused and listened again, but beyond the usual noise she had heard the whole time, there was nothing out of the ordinary that should worry her.

  Seeing the stairs going both up and down did give her a moment of indecision, though, wondering if up really was the right way to go. But there probably wasn’t a right or wrong way, she thought. Both were likely just as dangerous as each other, but up would bring her closer to the help she needed.

  Settling on going up for the second time, Frankie moved to the stairs going up and started to take them, one step at a time, keeping her back to the wall and her gun trained on the next corner. She reached the next landing, putting her halfway between floors and edged around the corner. The flight of stairs and the landing above, from what she could see, was also clear.

  Frankie moved forward, but paused when she heard the distinctive sound of footsteps above her moments before a man stepped into view.

  The man was bald, he had cybernetic implants where his eyes used to be, and wore a smug grin just beneath them. He wore a loose long leather jacket, which he proceeded to remove as he smiled down at her.

  ‘I knew I should have gone down,’ Frankie muttered to herself.

  ‘Babe, you can go dow…’

  ‘Don’t you say it!’ she barked at him.

  ‘Ho, feisty, aren’t cha. Hellion was right, this should be fun,’ he said as he dropped his jacket to the floor and raised his hands up and out to the sides as two more arms on either side of his torso, below his two typical ones, folded out, giving him six arms in total.

  ‘Well, that’s handy,’ Frankie muttered.

  3.07

  They were all clearly cybernetic in nature, even the pair that Frankie considered to be his original arms. She wondered how much of him was organic and how much was synthetic. Was he like her, with only his brain remaining, or was there more of him in there, in that armature.

  His arms all moved, and it took her a moment to realise what they were doing. She found she’d been that mesmerised by the additional four arms appearing and moving independently out from just beneath his shoulders that it was only when four of his arms withdrew a weapon from the webbing he wore, that she suddenly snapped out of it and realised this was a little more serious.