The Spire Read online

“Very nearly sir,” it replied pleasantly.

  “No, you’re done now. We have to move."

  The medical drone didn’t hesitate, instead removing its injector from underneath his flesh and between his bones. Its other hand left his flesh as well. “I calculate that only ninety-five percent of damage was mended. This means that there is a greater chance of a repeat break."

  “It’ll have to hold. Get in,” Miller commanded his team.

  Natalia hopped into Walter’s SUV, with Tommy taking the driver’s seat for the family vehicle. Miller moved himself into the passenger seat as the drone entered into the back, joining both Eva and her young daughter.

  “Everyone buckle up back there!” Miller shouted over his shoulder, as he made certain to place the chest strap behind himself.

  Tommy was already selecting their destination and inputting the appropriate defensive drive mode into the autopilot system. The vehicle planned the route, shared it with the second SUV, and then immediately burst forward, the electric motors in each wheel assembly producing incredible torque. They kicked up sod and mud as they peeled off of the lawn, skidding onto Independence Ave. The vehicles flew down the road, jumping onto and off the sidewalk as needed to avoid crashed cars or other vehicles that were trying to move down the street. Miller took ammunition from the storage compartment in front of him as he and the rest of his team reviewed sensor data from both of the vehicles.

  Both SUVs flew through the intersection at Independence and 7th. They were between the Hirshhorn Museum and the FAA Building when Walter called out the sight of three very late model trucks coming around the corner. A sound similar to the rapid striking of sledge hammers assaulted their ears. Eva screamed throwing Maria to the floor of the vehicle and laying on top of her. The drone hopped the second row seats, leaving the third as it did, and crouched on the floor next to them, placing itself between the girls and the hostile gun fire, using its mass as a makeshift shield.

  Two of the trucks had men standing in their beds, guns laid on top of the cab, firing at their SUVs. The armor of the team’s vehicles could easily absorb or deflect that fire, what worried Miller was the third truck, which had an old school Browning M2 Fifty Caliber Machine gun on a mount, likely bolted to the flatbed. The SUVs detected the fire, identified the threats, and immediately began swerving away from it, forcing them to miss the turn and continue down Independence toward the Washington Monument. The three trucks continued to give chase, the heavy caliber and high velocity rounds hammering into the rear of Walter and Natalia’s vehicle. Within seconds the rear windscreen began to splinter and threaten to give way. The SUVs accelerated to fifty miles per hour, the three trucks giving chase.

  At fifty five miles an hour, Walter and Natalia’s SUV slammed on the brakes for the two wheels on the right and increased power to the two on the left. The vehicle spun around, adjusting braking and power between all four wheels as necessary to swing the rear around as fast as possible. The front weapon system projected intense laser light directly into the eyes of all three drivers, blinding them and causing them to swerve. Miller watched as the vehicles spun out or flipped, sending the men standing in their bed areas flying out into the streets. He saw the gunner of the .50 cal hit the ground, face first, bending backwards at a spine-shattering angle and then a moment later his truck rolling over him. Both vehicles continued down the road at the same speed with the second SUV catching up while still going in reverse.

  “Nat, Walter, what’s your status?" asked Miller.

  “A few penetrations, nothing hit us and we still have functionality.”

  Miller nodded and his system began to flash a threat warning. They were just passing the Department of Energy Building when an aerial transport, with a long wing at front and back, each ending in a jet engine, blew past overhead, just barely over the rooftops. The vehicle was buffeted by the disturbed air produced by the jet wash.

  “We’ve got Marine VTOLs, look like V-24s,” Natalia said over the squad com.

  Tommy grinned, “Never thought I’d be happy to see the Marines.”

  “Usually they’re the ones happy to see us,” Walter replied.

  “They’re heading to the Washington Monument, probably to support the Secret Service at the White House,” Miller guessed.

  The threat warning system went off again, this time as a flight of three transports neared them. He tagged them as friendly to the system, but it kept blaring at him.

  “We’ve got a fast mover hugging the deck,” Natalia said.

  Miller watched through the nearly translucent roof as the sky exploded into a million pieces of metal, fire, and men. Kinetic kill missiles ripped through two of the transports while the third had its two right engines sheared off as a missile tore through the wings supporting them. That third transport clipped the top of the Department of Agriculture, flipping over as a result, and landed full force onto the road fifty yards in front of the family SUV.

  The vehicle reacted far faster than any person could, throwing itself into a sharp right turn that hadn’t completed by the time the blast struck the side of it, shattering all the reinforced windows. The fact that they didn’t blow inward, sending deadly shrapnel onto Eva and Maria, was a testament to the quality of the manufacturing that went into them. The vehicle tipped onto its right side, and if not for the two wheels continuing to turn appropriately, adjusting their speed as needed, and the weight of all the batteries in the base of the SUV, it would have flipped. It spun to a stop. The paint along the parts of the hood surrounding the front weapon system had begun to peel from the intense heat.

  A moment of near silence passed, only the sound of rapidly cooling metal breaking it.

  “Holy Shit,” Tommy said, his eyes wide and staring directly at Miller.

  Miller snapped around, not even noting the sensation of pain that his nerves fired up to his brain. “Are you okay?” he asked of his passengers. Maria, who until this point had held her fear in check, was wailing, tears streaming down her face, staining her mother’s blouse. Eva looked at him, for once at a loss for words. She just nodded her head and then planted her cheek on Maria’s head. “Perdona me mijita. I’m so sorry,” she softly murmured.

  Miller turned away. “Natalia, Walter, check in.”

  There was no response. Miller immediately looked back trying to see through the left windows, quickly realizing with the damage to the glass that he was not going to see anything. He checked his camera system and noted that half of them were destroyed. “Natalia, Walter, Report!” he barked into the squad com.

  “Walter’s pinned in the car,” Natalia’s voice grunted back.

  Tommy already had the SUV completing its previously unscheduled turn until they could see the other vehicle in their front windscreen. They pulled next to it and Miller, who had spent forty years in the Navy, had participated in operations from Afghanistan to Iraq to the Taiwanese expeditionary force into South Eastern China, raised his eyebrows in surprise. One of the jet engines from the transport had rocketed directly into the driver’s side door, pushing through at an angle into what was the forward storage compartment, where a few decades earlier would have been the engine.

  Miller and Tom were out before the car had come to a complete stop with the doors swinging shut immediately upon their exit. They bounded over to the engine, their rifles hanging across their chests. They could see Walter through the missing door window. Natalia was stretched over his lap inspecting his pinned and bleeding leg, and Walter was busy gritting his teeth trying not to pass out. Miller looked at Natalia, “Your med software decide if we can release the pressure? Don’t want him bleeding out."

  She nodded, “Yeah we can, but good luck moving that mother. It’s at least a thousand pounds.”

  Tommy ran a gloved hand through his hair looking at the engine, essentially fused into the frame of the car. “Can we pull it out with the winch?”

  Miller shook his head. “It’s in there pretty damn good. It’ll likely just move the SUV
with it. Hell, we might put even more pressure on his leg.”

  “Go get the cutters from the back of your vehicle,” Natalia ordered.

  “Take too much time and it might not matter given how much pressure the engine is putting on the door" Miller stated.

  As all three of them stood there, trying to figure out a solution to the situation, Walter broke the silence, “Oh for the love of fuck, move my god damn chair back!”

  All three of them looked at each other, the realization of what he just said dawning on them. Miller nodded to Natalia who reached to the center console and pulled up Walter’s seat controls. A low hum awkwardly filled the air as the four of them waited in silence and the seat moved backward. Walter let out an elated sigh grabbing at his leg as it came free.

  Miller followed Tommy around to the passenger side of the car, helping Natalia remove him from the wrecked vehicle. “Move him to the SUV,” Miller indicated. “Medical Unit,” he prompted, using verbal commands. “Prepare to treat a broken leg.”

  The back hatch lifted upward, the third row folding flat in synch. The bot inside the SUV had already shifted to the flat surface, crouched on the leather. Walter was laid flat on the space, as the medical unit began to scan his leg. “I am sorry to inform you that, due to the extensive fracturing, any assistance I provide at this time will be only temporary. You will need access to a complete medical bay." With that the bot administered local anesthetic and began to apply a temporary cast made of thin yet resistant material.

  “Is Walter okay?” Maria asked, still wrapped in her mother’s arms. She began to squirm to get a better look.

  Miller nodded and watched as Walter shifted to get a view of her. “Aw heck honey, this, it’s just a flesh wound, nothing to be worried about.” A sheen of sweat covered his forehead and his skin was slightly pale, weakening the assurance he had just given.

  She smiled timidly, and for a moment, Miller was reminded of his daughter when she was Maria’s age. He shook off the thought and moved on saying, “Everyone pile in; we’ve been stationary too long.”

  Natalia hopped in the back, staying close to Walter as Tom and Miller returned to the front. “What was the situation near the Capitol?” Miller asked.

  Tommy shook his head. “It was bad. Most of the insurgents went there because of the Senate hearings. It also had way lighter security than the White House. We don’t want to back track, so we should go around the wreckage and continue along our original path."

  The car began to shake again, the roar of another jet engine washing out their voices. Miller looked out the window and watched as a Glaive combat drone dove toward the Washington Monument, its onboard machine gun chattering away at some group of unseen soldiers. “Our path takes us that way, likely an active combat zone,” Natalia warned.

  Miller nodded and watched as the drone pulled up tightly, a maneuver that would have caused a human pilot to lose consciousness. It was a move he knew well. He had seen Chinese combat drones pull the same turn over his men back during the war. It would be only a few more seconds and then it would be performing another strafing run. The attacks came so quickly that even if no one was hurt by them, the mental wear and tear could destroy a soldier. He watched as this American drone finished its turn and began an attack on the very men and women it was designed to protect. However this time, rather than begin a smooth curve to take it over the deck, it instead suddenly angled downward, slamming into the ground between the White House and the Washington Monument.

  Tom let out a whoop, “Bout time our boys got some damn help! Looks like the IT guys were able to take back control of some of the drone’s functions."

  “We need to move,” Miller said, taking Natalia’s warning into consideration but deciding that everywhere was an active combat zone right now. He punched in the course and the car jumped forward, turning sharply onto Twelfth Street and then again onto Jefferson. Vehicles and debris from the crashed transports littered the road way, and they swerved almost maniacally on and off the pavement, avoiding whatever was in their path, very rarely ever slowing.

  To their right, they could see the signs of battle near the White House, the smoke and a towering fire ball that rose above nearby buildings. Because the electric motors were so quiet, the sound of heavy caliber weapons chattering back and forth penetrated into the vehicle. As they neared the Washington Monument, the sound of gun fire intensified and when they came around the corner to turn onto Wallenberg Street they were greeted by the sight of half a dozen Marines, holed up behind a public restroom as they received fire from the nearby Sylvan Theater. Three of the soldiers were propped up against the restroom barely able to hold their weapons as the other three fired around the corner at the theater, hoping to keep their attackers at bay.

  “Our boys are in the shit,” Tommy stated, his tone making it clear that he wanted to get involved.

  For a fraction of a second Miller contemplated continuing on their path. It was clear as of this moment, and he absolutely had to keep the girls safe, but the idea of leaving his fellow soldiers out there to die, when he and his team had been rescued by men just like them several decades ago, was something that went against the very fiber of his being.

  “Everyone hold on. Tommy, Natalia, get ready to move. Walter, keep the car mobile and secure. No matter what happens Maria and Eva make it out of here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes sir!” Walter confirmed.

  Miller pulled up the virtual controls of the car and took over. He turned hard right, jumping the curb and sending them all bouncing into the air for a moment. Walter let out a howl of pain from the back and Miller empathized as his ribs protested the SUV’s movement. The car came back onto solid ground, its wheels tearing into the sod and sending it flying in their wake. He drove the SUV past the restrooms and quickly covered the distance between the two structures, but not rapidly enough. Within a moment bullets were ricocheting off the front armor and wind screen as trees and bushes ripped past. These hostiles were far faster at identifying threats than the last group he had encountered, shifting a portion of their fire from the trapped Marines to his vehicle.

  “Ready!” he shouted as the structure grew. Just before he crossed perpendicular to the cluster of buildings, he slammed on the brakes, slowing the vehicle to a roll, and ordered the doors to open. He, Tommy, and Natalia bailed out and, as quickly as they had opened, the doors snapped back down. Virtual control transferred to Walter, and he drove the vehicle from his place in the rear, laying on his back. He spun it around the structure, hoping to keep the attention of the attackers there while Miller and the team closed the short distance to one of the side buildings.

  Walter’s voice rang in his ear, “We’ve got three hostiles behind the theater. They’re ignoring me and advancing on your location.”

  Miller arrived at the side of the building, along with the other two, all of them taking up position beside the door staying crouched along the wall. “We’re dealing with professionals, treat them as such,” he said to the other two. Tommy grinned and then crossed the door, getting ready to open it from the side opposite.

  Natalia swung the stock of her rifle in an arc to the right and up into the window, shattering it and sending a shower of glass onto the ground, the setting sun reflecting off the pieces as they fell. She pulled a cylinder off her vest, snapping off the cap and depressing the button beneath it. She pitched it through the open window, the sound of aluminum slamming into a metal surface. A moment later the flash bang exploded, blowing out the remainder of the glass and pushing on the door. Tommy reached over for the handle and pulled it open. Miller flowed in, with Tommy following behind in a well- choreographed routine, checking their corners as they did.

  The room was filled with a variety of landscaping and theater lighting equipment. A man in full black body armor, kitted out from head to toe, stumbled against a spot light, his palm slapping the side of his head trying to regain hearing as he blinked away tears. Miller fired a triple burst from
his rifle directly into the man’s chest, sending him careening into the wall. Tommy was behind Miller, immediately shooting another man in the face who was rising up from behind a riding lawn mower.

  Miller and Tommy never stopped moving, both advancing toward the two men they had just shot. Miller placed a bullet into the face of the man he had put down a moment earlier. While it could have been seen as unnecessary, the enemy’s body armor may have prevented the penetration of the three round burst and distributed their energy enough to prevent critical internal injuries. Tom shot his target again for good measure. Both had lost enough friends earlier in their careers to enemies that weren’t really out of the fight, so when possible they would never take the chance.

  Miller pulled up a video feed from Natalia’s contacts, watching her sweep around the corner of the groundskeeping building and sneak a quick view of three men advancing from the stage toward their location, weapons raised. Natalia’s threat software identified all the weapons they held and tagged the man with the Squad Automatic Weapon, as he was just finishing chambering the first round of his extremely large magazine.

  “Tommy down!” Miller threw himself behind a tractor, and Tom did the same as the wall facing the theater erupted in shards of plaster and dust.

  Natalia didn’t hesitate, dropping to a knee and placing several rounds into the man with the SAW. He fell backwards, his friends quickly located her and shifted their fire in her direction, the nearest guy grabbed a handle on the back of his fallen friend’s gear and began dragging him back toward the theater. Miller and Tommy jumped up and quickly got lines of sight through the broken windows. They both fired into the man shooting at Natalia, a spray of red fountaining into the air as one of the barrage of bullets found his unprotected jugular.

  The other two men continued back toward the theater itself. Tommy and Miller shifted their aim to the last pair. They fired at the same time; the man pulling his wounded friend dropped and an instant later so did Tommy. Miller spun, falling down beside him.