In the cold of the Canadian Rockies near Lake Louise, Burnout stood as still as a statue, taking in the scene. He stood on an icy slope overlooking a small airstrip that had been chiseled out of the mountain. Forty-two minutes earlier, Burnout and Slaver had descended from the helicopter, coming down on hoist wires into a small clearing nearly a kilometer away. The rigger had remained inside the hovering machine, waiting for the completion of the mission-the death of Ryan Mercury.
Now, the late-evening sky was moonless and dark, but not to Burnout. His eyes self-adjusted to the low light. The few sodium lamps outside the mirrored glass buildings next to the airstrip flared brightly on his cybernetic retinas, streaking his vision with cold blue-white.
The perimeter was marked by a three-meter-high wall, topped with looping monowire, security cameras, and rail-mounted drones that tracked back and forth, no doubt wired into a closed-circuit simsense rigger who could activate their weapons with a thought. Periodically, one of six guards walked the perimeter inside the fence. The guard was always leashed together with some sort of animal. A dog or a parani-mal. Something with a good sense of smell, no doubt. The guards had light body armor under their uniforms, and carried pistols and Ares Cascades.
"Burnout, capture one of the guards." Slaver's voice came as if from a great distance away, like out of a dream across a windy lake. But Burnout heard, and it was all the prompting he needed. He moved. Quickly and quietly, picking a spot where the sec cameras would have a harder time seeing.
He knew he was normally an easy target for astral creatures, but Slaver had supposedly masked his aura as much as
possible. No matter. There was nothing more he could do about it now. No hesitation, he told himself. No second thoughts. Just the quick fluidity of this mechanical body.
He passed down through the pines, crossed the short clearing like a ghost of metal, and reached the wall. He jumped as he came close, using all the strength of the hydraulic jacks in his legs. He cleared the wall and the mono-wire and the track with ease, landing without a sound on the other side. Looking around for a microsecond, he honed in on a guard walking away from him. Target lock.
Then Burnout was moving toward him, taser in hand. The dog saw him first, spinning toward Burnout just as he loomed up behind the guard. The taser made a tiny springing noise, and the beast fell with a small yelp.
The guard didn't even get that far. He moved as if in slow motion, his hand not yet reaching his weapon.
Burnout's palm came across the guard's mouth, clamping down tight before abruptly pulling back. Jerking the man off his feet. Burnout had to stop himself from snapping the man's neck. Slaver had said capture, not kill.
The man's pupils widened when he saw Burnout, and he tried to call out. His cries were muffled, and he stopped completely when Burnout placed the barrel of his silenced Predator II to his face. A quick, hard punch to the gut knocked the man's wind out and left him gasping while Burnout sealed his mouth with his stash of fiber tape, then bound his hands and feet with the same.
Two more things. First, the dog. A quick twist broke its neck. Second, escape. That might be a little tougher.
Burnout glanced around. No disturbances, no trace of alarm. He jacked up the gain on his hearing, but came up with nothing more than the sound of a helicopter motor clicking as it cooled and the amplified hum of his own microhydraulics.
The guard thrashed a little when Burnout picked him up and slung the man's bulk over his shoulder. Made holding difficult. Burnout was not happy. This human must be controlled. Burnout quietly set the guard on the ground, then grabbed the man's foot with one hand. He used his other hand to place a hard sideways punch to the guard's knee, snapping the bone in several places.
The guard's scream was nicely muffled. Very effective tape. And he didn't squirm so much when Burnout slung him up to his shoulder the second time. Burnout jumped back over the fence with his human cargo. Then he raced off into the trees. No sound from the drones. He had made it out.
"You broke his leg?" Slaver asked when Burnout dumped the guard in the snow.
Burnout just nodded.
"Was that necessary?" But Slaver didn't let Burnout respond. He knelt down next to the guard, putting its hands on the man's face. The man's chest heaved as Slaver scanned his mind with magic. The screams of agony stuck in his throat.
After a few minutes, Slaver looked up. The guard had passed out. "Mercury is no longer here," he said. "He left with Nadja Daviar. They went to Washington FDC."
He rose and dusted himself off. "Now kill him and let's go," he said to Burnout.
Burnout bent down and grabbed the man's head with a iron-grip. He was already unconscious, so this wouldn't hurt. Besides, this was the most effective and humane way. A sudden brutal twist snapped the man's neck, severing his spinal cord. He was dead instantly.