\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1896504-Untitled-Chapter-III---part-3
Item Icon
by Fury Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Novel · Action/Adventure · #1896504
2042: The Global Elite's agenda is nearly complete. There is but one problem: Sarah
***




“I have both Commanders Northwood and Mazor on this already, as well as a squadron of AKs.” Dirke spoke into the air. The com link in his jawbone instantly relaying his voice to the secure channel he had established hours ago to Gentech HQ. He walked toward the large window overlooking the airfield as he listened to the voice on the other end of the call.

“You don’t assume I understand that? We have been over this all morning. I have been very explicit in what I need from you. The question remains however, despite our extended narrative, is whether or not you are going to give to me what I require. Or do I need to cash in some favors from our mutual friends over there?” Dirke paced along the span of the window watching a small patrol vehicle move northward along the fence line across the airfield.

“I recognize that what I am asking is a great deal but you have known me for a very long time and you should know by now that when I say I am more than a little concerned about something you should be concerned even that much more than I. Now what is it going to be?”

Dirke was pushing hard but he knew the stakes. A Rebel augmentation program must not be allowed to continue even if it meant devoting Gentech’s entire assets at finding and destroying it. If that is what it takes, then so be it even if its existence was unconfirmed at this point.

“I already relayed to you I do not have hard evidence but that is precisely my point. If this program has managed to proceed unnoticed then we have some very significant problems facing us. Not just from what they may have cooked up for us but it also begs some serious questions about just what Gentech Intelligence has been doing with all those tens of billions I helped pitch your way.”

Dirke watched as the patrol vehicle came to a stop at the base of the defensive tower midway along the fence line. The two guards stepped out of the vehicle and approached the hatchway door. “What were two enlisted soldiers doing accessing a technician’s hatchway?” Dirke thought momentarily before he spun back toward his desk, obviously becoming increasingly irritated by the conversation he was having.

“Goddamn it that was a long time ago. Where the hell do you get off bringing that up to me now? What has that got in common with the subject at hand?”

Dirke flopped himself into his chair and placed his face in his hands as he leaned over his desk.

“Fine. We will proceed your way but should results fail to manifest themselves quickly, I expect you to commit your full support behind me when I go to the board. Agreed?”

Dirke folded his hands together and stared down at his desk. He didn’t like Gentech Intel mostly because he hated the man who was put in charge of it. He was an old university roommate who, by chance of being in the “click” had weaseled his way into Gentech early on. While not a scientist by training, he was smart enough to see a good thing and cement himself in the mix. Dirke considered it a sleazy way to live one’s life and had always resented him for the way in which he had become a part of Gentech’s founding team. Now he had to deal with him whenever anything was considered “sensitive” in nature and these days everything was “sensitive” in nature.

“Excellent, we have an understanding then. I do expect you to observe your obligation. And please bring Fuller up to speed – I abhor abiding his insubordination. I will not placate him much longer.  And just as well… he is a bit disconcerting to put it mildly.”

Dirke disconnected the communication stream with a tap of his fingertips on his jaw line. “I am indeed getting too old for this.” He mumbled aloud.



***



Sarah’s breathing slowed to an imperceptible level. The patrol guard’s hand appeared above the opening as he reached up to grasp the first ladder railing in view. She watched as he climbed the remaining ladder steps along the rear wall, his back toward Sarah. While not yet in hyper-thought, Sarah’s mind was racing. If she killed them, it would be noticed. The guards would surely be wearing a bio-sensitive monitoring device. The devices allowed base central operations to have situational awareness of all on-duty personnel. Any significant rise in blood pressure, heart rate or breathing – or equally the cessation of same - would raise an alarm. The technology gave them an advantage against furtive incursions. She knew that killing was a last resort only. Patience was needed. Let them do whatever they came in to do and then get back to the mission at hand. Unfortunately, Sarah had never been good at patience.

“Ok, what are you boys doing? There is nothing to do here.” Sarah thought to herself as her eyes glanced around the alcove devoid of machinery.

His boots made a sharp metallic sound as the guard stepped off the ladder railings and onto the metal platform supporting the main turret base. Turning toward the room he looked around silently as he flicked on his flashlight and made a visual scan of the surroundings. With his right arm, he swung the RDX assault rifle into position in his hand from where it had been hung across his back while he climbed the ladder.

He moved the flashlight spotlight slowly across the walls approaching Sarah’s position. The brightness of the flashlight’s l.e.d. momentarily blinded her as it came to rest in her little corner. She tensed, knowing he was now looking directly at her. She tightened her leg muscles, preparing to leap across the alcove and slice his throat should he give any indication he saw her. Her pulse rate increased as she gripped the battle blade handle tighter.

“Let’s make this quick.” She heard him say to his partner as he turned back toward the rear of the alcove. She let herself breathe a bit; he hadn’t seen her.

Sarah’s vision re-adjusted to the dimness of the alcove as she watched him turn away. Her eyes caught the movement of the second guard’s hand on the ladder rails as he too made his way up the final steps and onto the alcove platform.

“It’s got to be somewhere he might actually be looking; we can’t just leave it in the middle of the floor.” The second guard announced matter-of-factly as he flicked his flashlight on as well.

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“Well the tower ladder is the only way down and onto base without going ghost through the wire fence. Assuming he isn’t flying over the fence, he would have to get in here and climb down to the hatchway.”

Sarah, puzzled by the conversation, watched as the second guard pointed toward the ladder from which they had both just climbed into the room.

“Yeah, we went over this already. Let’s just hurry.”

The second guard paused and tapped his chin with his fist. “Ok, so continuing on… assuming that he manages to get up here in the first place, my next step, if I was him, would be to simply look down the hole to make sure no one was down there ready to blow my head off.”

“Ok, so what, tape it to the ladder?”

“Well, let’s assume he’s going to be leaning over, looking down...” The guard placed his right hand along the wall and peered over the entrance edge down the ladder from where they had just climbed, “…kinda like this…” he continued. “There’s got to be some place around here he would see it.”

Sarah watched as the guard pointed his flashlight toward the opening. He then traced it slowly along the myriad of electrical and network tubing lining the ladder shaft and up along the walls into the alcove.

“What the hell are they doing?” Sarah was very puzzled by the scene. Then, the thought crossed her mind of contraband being placed for one of their buddies to “find”. “Drugs, maybe?” she wondered silently. “Jesus, I get to deal with the two junk peddlers now?”

Sarah rolled her eyes slightly upward. The day had started out so well. Now, here she was stuck while two drug smugglers tried to figure out the logistics of product transfer. She so wanted to just kill them where they stood and get on with her mission. She was burning daylight and on top of that was growing increasingly hungry. She had planned on having a meal ration before she entered the base but with these two idiots here, her snack was on hold – indefinitely apparently. She turned her head back toward the outward facing opening she had climbed through moments before. Perhaps she could exit without detection?

“Look, right there.”

Sarah turned back toward the two deviants as the first guard, turned his flashlight back toward the ladder opening to peer down at whatever his partner had his flashlight focused upon.

“That could work.”

Whatever they were interested in, it was below Sarah’s line of site. Regardless, whatever it was she just wanted them to get it done and get out.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s the best we got and we’re out of time. I’m sure someone’s noticed our little pit stop already.”

Sarah watched as the first guard reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper.

“Here, hold this.” He told his partner as he handed him his flashlight and knelt down on the platform. He reached over the opening, obviously struggling to reach something.

“I can’t reach it. Hold on.” the guard grunted as he lay on his belly, extending the top half of his body over the opening, his right hand still grasping the folded paper.

“There, almost got it.”

Sarah watched and realized this was not a drug handoff. This was something completely different. What were they doing? What was so important about that piece of paper and who exactly was it intended for?

“Done. Let’s get the hell out of here. Remember – if anyone asks, I had to piss.” He stated hurriedly as he grabbed his RDX and struggled to his feet.

“Right behind you.”

Sarah watched as the two guards, their RDX rifles slung across their backs once again, scrambled hurriedly down the ladder opening. Within seconds, they were halfway down and out of Sarah’s view. A few seconds more and she heard the hatchway door below open and close quickly. They were gone.

Sarah stepped forward from her cramped position along the wall. The suit had worked flawlessly. Even with a direct spotlight on her and in these tight quarters, the guards had failed to notice her presence. She was relieved to be sure. While she had no doubt she could have taken them easily had things gone differently, if even one round from the RDX rifles had hit her, it would have been game over for this mission. And this had been planned for a long time. It was the single most important mission in her life and could very well mean the future win or lose for not just her and her fellow rebel forces. It could very well mean the end of the resistance across the continent.

Sarah walked silently toward the ladder opening and peered down the thirty feet to the concrete floor below. In the dim light, she could see the hatchway door closed shut. Her eyes began to look for the white paper. Sarah began to realize this looked more like an Intel drop than anything else. But for who and what was the data? Had she managed to get so lucky as to actually witness a drop? She was not naïve enough to think she was the only operative who’s target was this particular base given the nature of the personnel found onsite. It was entirely possible the drop was intended for someone within her rebel intelligence group or perhaps one of the bands with whom they were loosely associated. But then again, it was also entirely possible it was not. The question in her mind was whether to leave it alone or destroy it. This was not part of her mission, but targets of opportunity were rarely forfeited.

As she looked down the ladder tube, Sarah caught glimpse of a white edge protruding out from behind a control junction box a few feet below the ladder opening. Kneeling down, her long arms allowed her to easily reach and extract the note from its not so clever hiding position. Whoever they were, they certainly weren’t the best spooks on campus she thought. Anyone could have seen that just by chance alone.

She stood up and backed away to lean against the tower wall once again. She struggled to unfold the paper with camouflaged fingers. “Damnit.” She muttered in frustration. Before the suit, she would have not guessed just how hard it is to work with small objects not only while gloved but invisible at the same time. The human brain isn’t easily trained to coordinate with invisible hands and fingers she had quickly realized. But despite the difficulty, within a few seconds Sarah had managed to unfold the paper and began to read.

“What?” she whispered aloud as she read the contents of the note again. She stood silently for a moment trying to piece together what she had just read - twice. Then she began to laugh in surprise and amazement.



PJ

DIRKE BL 4 3 FL WW

8-7-4-7-6-8-5-6-2-1

BIGGER THAN OUTSIDE

SPCLD



Sarah read the note a third time, still smiling from ear to ear. “How the hell would he know I’d be here of all places?” Sarah rhetorically asked aloud. She had no doubt now from whom and for whom the note had been written. There were only two people that called her that. And this message in particular was from her father; rather her adopted father. He had called her “PJ” for as long as she could remember. When she had first arrived in their home after the “big” as she used to call it, she wouldn’t speak to anyone. Eventually the man that would soon become her adopted father coined “PJ”. It had most likely been out of sheer frustration over getting her to reveal her name to him or it could have been the ragged set of pajamas she had been found wearing. But no matter the source, the nickname stuck and from then on she was “PJ”. Sarah smiled reliving the origin. Her augmented memory could easily recall those days as if they had only occurred last week.

Sarah had no idea how he could possibly know that she would wind up in the alcove. Yes, as part of rebel Intel he knew of her mission before she had left. “But how he would know this tower?” she struggled to comprehend.

Logically he may surmise that tower was her best chance in to the base. He had been a mathematician by training, a teacher by profession but after the declaration of hostilities, he began to work in rebel intelligence. His training in advanced mathematics allowed him to grasp signals and encoding analysis quickly and with a commanding stature, he soon rose to senior level in the resistance. But of all those accomplishments, this had to be his most surprising feat to date. To Sarah’s joyous surprise, he had somehow managed to get a message to her in-mission. She smiled once again.

“So, those guards…” she began to realize the implication. The guards must be embedded rebel assets. They had put their lives at risk to get the message to her not just from the threat of the Alliance, she thought, but from her as well as she recalled her thoughts of aspirating their throats. She was suddenly glad she had managed to maintain a little bit of patience for once.

She thought back on their conversation to which she had been privy. They were obviously told of an incursion, but apparently not by whom. That fact was clear as evidenced by their repeated references to “he”.

Sarah looked down at the note once again. It was easy to decipher the target “Dirke” and his location in building 4, 3rd floor. She guessed a bit on the WW but given her mission briefing she concluded it was meant to imply a westward facing window. That part she knew already… she also knew exactly the translation of the code “Bigger than outside”.

At a very young age, and not too long after the “big” she had once informed her new parents, after her first real day of freedom trouncing around in the woods alone, that “outside” must go on forever everywhere. It was “so big” she had exclaimed. Her father had taken her understanding of the now biggest thing she had ever realized to tell her just how much he loved her from that day on. “Bigger than outside” he would say, “You are my very special PJ.” She would answer with a big two-arm-wrap-around-his-neck hug. Sarah smiled and was suddenly homesick once again.

That left one line of the message as yet un-deciphered. “Hmm…” Sarah thought for a moment before she realized what it must be. She turned and strode the few steps back toward the ladder opening. She stepped out onto the first railing as she looked down the shaft. Quickly, she made her way down the ladder looking around the room as she descended.

Aside from a few various tools and technician equipment, the tower base was empty. As she reached the concrete floor, she stepped away from the ladder and approached the hatchway. To the right was a small keypad with a red light glowing at the top. For some reason, she had not expected that – but thinking back on it, she should have. Why would they not have a locked door? Of course they would.

Sarah smirked. Growing up, he had always been there to help her when she needed help the most – and given her unique situation, she had needed help more than most. And now even as an adult he had managed to find a way to help her once more. She missed him tremendously.

Sarah opened the flap in her cam suit and unzipped the front enough for her hand to find its way to her zippered pocket on her vest. Before she continued, she had one thing left to do – settle her now loudly grumbling stomach. If the suit was to hide her, her stomach mustn’t be the one to give her away.

She quickly pulled out a ration bar and re-zipped her cam suit. Her hand lifted her hood back over her head once again creating the illusion of the floating noggin. The bars weren’t the best money could buy – even if you could find such a product somewhere. But they were homemade from the crops that were grown by the resistance themselves. Heirloom and free of genetic manipulation, the ingredients tasted wondrous in her mouth as she took her first bite. Very high in calories, it would provide her body with the needed energy for the next hour, enough to get her through the next few scenes. But she would need to stop once she had made it back to base camp for some serious caloric intake, she thought as she chewed the bar and casually looked around the room.

In the decades prior to the Second American Revolution, during the time in which there were many of those awakening to what was really happening in the world, food had become a powerful control tool for the Elites. Surprisingly, while most people believed, at the time, the genetic manipulations were in direct correlation to increasing corporate profits, there was rather a more direct relationship to the coming oil crisis which was to begin in the early twenty teens. Corporate profits were a pleasant side effect which produced ever increasing revenues from which to continue funding for genetic modification research known as GMO or genetically modified organism.

It was not just the fact that the heavy machinery used in agricultural planting, tilling and harvesting all ran on oil; it was also the fact, unbeknownst to most average consumers at that time, that the agriculture pesticides used to produce such bountiful crops were all derived from oil as well. Within the circles of the Elites, this was common knowledge to understand that as the oil ran low, so would the abundant crops. The goal in GMO research would be to create strains of highly resistant crops, ones that could be used to support five hundred million inhabitants of the world without the oil based pesticides.

The advent of the first severe oil shortages in 2013 was a devastating year. Food prices had rocketed to hyper-inflationary levels. Mid sized farms were completely devastated in six months. Most privately owned fields were abandoned that year, left to wither in the heat of the dry summer. Those that survived were the large corporate backed farms, using, of course, GMO seeds. They had been the only ones who could afford the price. Last year’s seeds were useless. The genetic soft kill built right in rendered the seeds sterile after a year, forcing the purchase of new GMO seeds yearly – a boon for the large GMO seed producers. It was a corrupt system that played God over the world’s food supply and controlled by the same few who now controlled Gentech. If you controlled the food, you controlled lives.

Heirloom seeds - ones without genetic manipulation had gone underground. Those who had foresight enough to stock them had the means to keep their family and friends alive during the very early years of the “Rapture”. Today, those farmers who had managed to escape into rebel controlled lands were only allowed to grow with heirlooms to mitigate the risk of cross contamination with GMOs. But ‘allowed” was a strong word. Sarah had not met a single one who would even consider using anything else. So enforcement was merely implied.

As Sarah took her last bite of her ration bar, she felt lucky that there had been those that had educated themselves and foreseen the shadowing of the future enough to stash away nature’s finest achievements – and that had helped save a million lives already including her own. And if she had her way today, might just mean the end of this bloody war for good.

Her stomach silent, Sarah turned toward the hatchway and the keypad mounted to the right. As she punched in the numbers embedded in her memory, she took the note, balled it up, put it in her mouth and swallowed… “Dry.” She thought as the control pad’s light turned green. She heard the electro-magnets embedded in the hatchway door unlock. “Showtime.” She whispered pointedly as she reached up and pulled the cam suit hood down over her face.

Sarah pushed the lever toward her left and opened the hatchway door just enough to slip herself through and onto the pavement outside the tower. Quickly she shut the door behind her and moved immediately to her right as she looked across the airfield to the hangars beyond. She backed up along the tower base, her back toward the wire fencing as she watched the guards pace outside the hangar door two hundred yards away. She knelt down and began to scan the perimeter of the airfield for movement. She then turned her head toward the core base complex of buildings to her left of the hangars. Just behind the air control tower, she could see the third floor corner window of building four. That was her next stop.

Sarah tensed her leg muscles as she prepared to sprint across the airfield. She knew she could walk but the sugar high of her ration bar was hitting her bloodstream now and she wanted to get this done… she had had enough patience for one day she thought as she leapt forward, her immensely powerful legs accelerating her to full speed within a second.

         Sarah barely felt her feet hit the pavement as she sprinted. Even without the cam suit, she would have been hard to follow at her speed. Sarah could hear the wind rush past her as the force of her forward movement split the air apart creating a vortex of wind behind her. She focused on the guards pacing in front of the hangar door, directly in her path and completely unaware of the fury bearing down on them. Sarah smiled, “I’ll come back around for you boys later.”

         As she reached the edge of the airfield, fifty yards from where the guards still paced obliviously, Sarah suddenly changed direction toward the core base complex. “Oh, Dirke…” Sarah tried to beam her thoughts into the universe, “Karma is coming for you...” Sarah smiled from her internal joke. She had long ago inscribed her battle blade “Karma”.

Sarah could see the edge of the first core complex building approaching fast. A single story building she had picked out earlier as her mind had planned her assault. “Waypoint 1: Single story building immediately north of hangar two.” As Sarah got within ten feet of the building, she gritted her teeth and propelled herself through the air. Her leap had been perfectly timed with her momentum and it landed her precisely where she wanted to be; the roof. Without skipping a step, she continued her sprint, across the roof toward her next point of entry, “Waypoint 2: Air vent duct north east corner of Waypoint 1.”

Sarah could see the metal air duct vent directly in front of her as she kept her mind focused on the roof obstacles in her path. As her feet expertly avoided the various hazards, her rhythm continued unabated. As she approached the vent her eyes already made contact with the next point. “Waypoint 3: Second story building east of Waypoint 2.” Sarah exerted minimal effort as she leapt onto the vent. In two strides she leapt once again across the small alley way and up to the second story roof of the adjacent building; the vent giving her additional height from which to manage the jump.

As she landed on the roof, she allowed her momentum to roll her forward and come to a stop in a crouched position; her right hand supporting her upper body against the white gravel of the roof. Sarah glanced around quickly assessing her position. From her previous vantage point outside the base she had not been able to see her obstacles at this level. She had risked it somewhat in assuming the roof would provide a launch point to her next point of access to building four.

Her quick scan revealed nothing out of the ordinary… at first. Then she noticed it; a lone security camera on the south side of the building. It appeared to be focused on none other than the very quadrant in which she had landed. “Shit.” Sarah whispered under her breath. Her heart made a powerful beat as she realized her land and roll could very well have been detected. The roof was covered in small, white, pebble like stones which had been disturbed by the force of her landing. She had heard the sound as they had scattered upon impact. Sarah stared at the camera. She was breathing heavily from her exertions and her muscles were tense from the adrenaline. “Move…” she gritted through her teeth, “Move!”

Sarah knew that if she had been detected she had precious little time before the base was locked down. Once it was locked down, the opportunity to get her prey outside its perimeter would be decreasing with each passing second. She had to move, fast.

Sarah stood and began to sprint toward her next waypoint: a mid-air covered walkway between the building upon which she stood and building four directly east. She would use the walkway to build the momentum she needed to reach the window and enter the room… Dirke had better be there she thought as she ran.

Sarah watched the roof of the covered walkway loom in front of her and the large green shimmer of the target windows at the opposite end. As she ran, she thought she heard an alarm begin to sound. A flood of adrenaline raced through her bloodstream and she felt herself begin to enter hyper-thought… but it was too early to allow that. As Sarah had discovered long ago, she mustn’t stay in hyper-thought for too long and she would need every second of it once she penetrated the room behind those windows. She focused her will; determined to stall the transition for a few more seconds as her foot made contact with the roof of the walkway. A metallic clank echoed down the alleyway with each impact.

By now, Sarah could hear the alarm emanating from the windows in front of her. She had definitely been discovered and that knowledge sent another powerful burst of adrenaline into her body. “Shit!” she exclaimed out loud. “Move! Move!” She felt her body respond with increased intensity. But while her physical speed increased yet again, her mind began to perceive the world slowing down, “Not yet…” Sarah doubled her efforts on holding back the inevitable veil of time-bending forces struggling to take hold of her mind. She knew the dangers of long hyper-thought. And as well, she knew she still had to make it in to the room, capture Dirke, return via her entry path and make it back across the airfield to disappear into the woods. The longest she had stayed in hyper-thought had been three minutes and it had ended in her falling unconscious. Her mind had shut down from the sheer exhaustion of processing the amount of sensory data hyper-thought delivered. To make it back into the woods would be pushing two minutes at best, three on the outside. At this point, every second out of hyper-thought increased her chances of staying free, not to mention alive, by exponential amounts.

Her teeth clenched tight, Sarah heard her footsteps landing loudly on the thin metal of the walkway roof as she ran toward the large greenish window. If anyone was in the walkway, she would surely be giving herself away. But at this point and by the sound of it, she had managed to do that well enough already.

She looked up; the window appeared large in front of her and one story above. “Now!” she yelled silently as her right hand reached under her cam suit and drew her sidearm; several rounds from her 12mm pistol should suffice she hoped.

As Sarah drew her sidearm and sighted the large window, she made one last stride before hurdling herself through the air once again. With arm outstretched and the window large in her sights, Sarah pulled the trigger in rapid succession. The resultant concussive noise from the weapon’s barrel proved to be the last straw in overcoming her tenuous grasp of real time. It sent her crashing into hyper-thought. Suddenly the world slowed to a crawl and Sarah could see the rounds she had fired a millisecond before moving away from her at supersonic speeds. She could make out two separate rounds on near parallel paths, one right behind the other. The shockwave in front of each projectile caused the light to bend in odd patterns around them distorting the image of their glass target.

Sarah could hear the alarm distinctively now as she slowly floated through the air, her arm still outstretched in front of her. As her momentum continued her path forward, she began to pull her arm back to stow her sidearm once again. As she did so she watched the first of the projectiles smash into the window in a violent collision. The bullet fragmented upon impact sending tiny shards of metal in all directions. The window buckled inward as concentric rings of force moved outward in waves from the point of contact. Sarah’s hope fragmented as did the bullet as she realized the window had not shattered. The bullet had failed to penetrate the hardened glass.

She had but one chance left before she would hit the glass herself. If she broke through upon impact, the suit would most likely be destroyed. Crystal fingers of razor sharpness would rip it to shreds as she passed through the window.

Sarah’s eyes watched as the concentric waves of energy continued to course through the giant pane of glass, reverberating off the metal edges of the window housing to echo back again across the surface. The second bullet made impact a millisecond later. Sarah watched desperately; hoping to see the glass begin to crack. Instead, she watched again in defeat as the second round shattered as had the first, adding its own metal fragments into the chaos.

Once again, concentric waves of force permeated the window surface, emanating in all directions from point of contact. Sarah watched as her autonomous system closed her eyelids as it blinked her eyes. And for what seemed like an eternity, she was surrounded by darkness with only the sound of the alarm disturbing the peace. Defeat engulfed her mind as she continued to float weightless and unimpeded; hurdling toward her now assured fate.

As her eyelids began to open once again, a stream of light lit up her vision. And as her eyelids slid further upwards, she refocused on the quickly approaching pane of glass. The concentric waves had now mingled with the residuals of the waves from the first impact, creating a montage of crisscrossing lines of force, traveling to and fro the length and height of the pane. But now, there appeared smaller vibratory waves, intermingling as they passed the larger rings. Together they created a pandemonium of reflections Sarah found oddly beautiful. At once she felt as though she was staring into a still pond in which she had just thrown a handful of pebbles.

Sarah tensed herself for impact; helpless as her momentum brought her ever closer to the destruction of the cam suit. She would not have time for a third shot and she now regretted not unloading the clip in its entirety. Perhaps she could have gotten lucky with even a single round penetrating the hard, reinforced glass.

As her impact drew near, Sarah began to notice the smaller vibratory waves multiply in all directions; creating a harmony as they traveled at lightning speed. Something was happening; chaos was begetting order; dissonant vibrations coalescing into synchronicity. Almost suddenly, the glass began to vibrate in sync across all lines of force exponentially rising in crescendo in a single voice. Sarah had dared not hope in that last second before contact but here hope had demanded itself. As Sarah watched, the surface of the glass became as tiny points of vibrating bees, crowding across the expansive surface. She could hear the high pitched hum growing louder as she approached and with a sudden sound of a thousand crystal champagne glasses, the pane shattered outward spraying Sarah with millions of tiny glass pebbles. Perhaps Fate was doing far more than merely smiling this day.

Sarah had instinctively pulled her arms up to cover her face as she had realized the bullets had failed to penetrate the glass. Lacking the time to stow her sidearm, she held it in her right hand as she passed through what would have been the plane of contact. She felt her feet make contact with the carpeted floor of the room and once again she allowed her momentum to carry her through what now seemed to her a five minute roll forward. She came to a stop resting upon her right hand, her weapon clutched tightly within.

Still in hyper-thought, Sarah looked up to see a tall, older man in mid stride racing toward the large double doors to her right. “Dirke, I presume?” Sarah called out loudly. As she watched the man’s eyes begin to fill with fear as he looked back toward her, Sarah launched herself toward him with predatory instinct and precision. Her prey was bolting and that realization lit something up in her brain and she reacted decisively.

© Copyright 2012 Fury (dthames at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1896504-Untitled-Chapter-III---part-3