Chapter 94 - Blood Across the Marble
Before we could reach the Navy Yard’s lower aviation depot, the war for Washington found us.
We emerged through an auxiliary ventilation grate into the shadow of the Capitol building. Above us, the grand white dome was silhouetted by the eerie glow of fires burning on the National Mall. Black-clad squads of the Iron Clad consortium were advancing through the streets, clearing out the remnants of the Capitol Police and National Guard units using heavy armor and tactical drones.
"They're consolidating their perimeter," Vance hissed, crouched low behind a marble balustrade. "If they link up their ground relays, Tartarus will begin its secondary bombardment. New York, Chicago, and San Diego are next on the targeting list."
"We need that helicopter," I said, scanning the avenue.
Between us and the secure subterranean hangar stood a full platoon of Iron Clad mercs, supported by an armored personnel carrier with an automated 30mm turret.
"We can't fight an APC with small arms," Jake muttered, terror creeping back into his voice. "Elena, that cannon will tear us in half."
"Then we don't fight it," I said, pointing toward a parked fuel truck that had been abandoned by civil defense workers near the curb. "Vance, you have two thermite grenades left in your pack?"
Vance grinned—a grim, blood-flecked smile. "You want me to turn that tanker into a fire wall?"
"I want you to blind the APC’s infrared optics," I said. "Jake, you run with Vance. On my signal, you drag the safety pins on the secondary charges. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Jake said without hesitation. "Just tell me when."
"Go!"
Vance and Jake broke into a dead sprint across the asphalt, ducking beneath the shattered husks of civilian sedans. The 30mm turret on the APC began to traverse, its hydraulic whine cutting through the night air like a buzzsaw.
I broke cover in the opposite direction, firing single shots into the APC’s optical sensor glass to draw its fire.
*THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!*
High-explosive 30mm shells pulverized the marble steps where I had just been standing, sending jagged shards of stone whistling past my ears. The concussive blast picked me up and threw me through the shattered front window of an office building. I landed on broken glass, my breath knocked completely out of my lungs, stars bursting behind my eyelids.
Through the shattered window, I saw Vance toss the thermite canister directly onto the hood of the fuel truck.
A white-hot inferno exploded into the night sky. The intense, magnesium-fueled chemical flame blindfolded the APC’s forward cameras, turning its digital targeting sensors into a wall of white static.
"Now, Jake!" Vance roared.
Jake lunged forward, throwing the secondary satchel charge right beneath the APC’s drive-train before diving behind an iron trash receptacle.
*BOOM!*
The underbelly explosion severed the armored vehicle's left tracks, flipping the multi-ton vehicle onto its side with a catastrophic shriek of tearing steel.
I scrambled to my feet, spitting blood, my rifle raised. The surviving Iron Clad infantrymen were disoriented, coughing in the blinding chemical smoke.
I swept through them like an avenging ghost.
Three rounds center-mass. Pivot. Double-tap to the next. Sweep low, clearing the blind spots. Every movement was economic, stripped of hesitation, honed by years of surviving where others fell. Within forty-five seconds, the avenue was silent save for the crackling of the burning fuel truck.
Jake crawled out from behind the dumpster, his face black with soot, coughing violently. He looked at the smoking wreck of the APC, then at me.
"Are you even human?" he whispered, his eyes wide in awe and terror.
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"I'm what grandfather built me to be," I answered, changing my rifle magazine with a fluid, mechanical click. "And he's about to regret every single lesson he ever taught me."
***
