They landed on the roof, with Jake craning to get a glimpse of the drunk-looking swaying of November Ajax. He wanted to gloat over the success of his plan a little. But all he caught was a glimpse before Scrapper’s weight caved in the roof and they were falling through the shattered interior floors toward the ground level.
When they hit, the pilot was still smooth and cool. But it took Jake a minute to get his breath and focus his eyes after the jarring impact. She was looking at him. He could see the surprise on her face even though she was trying to play things cool and hide it. She wanted to know how he knew that would work. But she wouldn’t ask, and Jake wasn’t going to tell her.
She saw that in his eyes, or perhaps he was imagining it. In any case, she charged forward and Scrapper plowed through the rubble around the bottom of the building out into the street. A warning flashed on the Conn-Pod HUD: RESERVE POWER AT 12%.
“Told you we needed that!” she yelled.
“It worked, didn’t it?” he yelled back.
“How long before Ajax can reboot his systems?”
Jake thought it was interesting that she thought he would know. Maybe she’d figured out by now that he knew a little about Jaegers. He also admired her cool, for wanting to be sure how much of a head start she could expect before the Jaeger was back in action. Before he could figure out what to say, November Ajax’s enormous foot slammed down in front of them, kicking up a huge blast of sand and bits of concrete.
“About that long,” Jake said.
“Power down and exit your Conn-Pod,” November Ajax’s pilot boomed. “This is your final warning.”
Jake was surprised when the girl spun Scrapper around and ran off. She had more guts than he’d figured, to do that on twelve percent reserve power with no chance of actually getting away.
Their dash for freedom didn’t go on for long. November Ajax raised one fist and fired a set of grappling hooks, trailing cables across the empty space. They clamped onto Scrapper’s fuselage, and as soon as they had attached, an electric pulse surged through the cables.
Inside Scrapper’s Conn-Pod, Jake felt his hair standing up. Circuits were sparking and smoking all over, including the suite of scavenged electronics controlling the gyroscopic cradle. It jammed as the Conn-Pod went dark. The only light was what filtered through Scrapper’s visor and down from its head into the torso.
Slowly Scrapper tipped over backward and crashed to the ground, leaving Jake bruised again and the pilot hung up on her back in the cradle. She looked mad. Jake couldn’t decide whether that was to cover fear, or whether she was just really feeling more anger than anything else. People fronted all kinds of stuff when they were about to go down for serious crimes.
A series of heavy thumps sounded in the confined space. November Ajax was tapping on Scrapper’s hull.
Jake looked at the girl and shrugged. They’d made a good run. Did themselves proud. But they weren’t ever going to get anywhere against a full-sized Jaeger.
He levered the hatch open and climbed out, raising his hands. The girl followed him, looked up at November Ajax and screamed, “Look what you did to my Jaeger, you dick!”
3
ILLEGAL JAEGER WORKSHOP BROKEN UP IN SANTA MONICA
LA WORLD STAFF
Working in coordination with local law enforcement, a Pan Pacific Defense Corps security detail located a black-market Jaeger workshop in the former PPDC cargo facility located on the Santa Monica waterfront. The area, devastated by a Kaiju attack near the end of the Kaiju War, has suffered from high crime and mass out-migration in the years since the closing of the Breach. More recently, according to PPDC staffers, it has become a hotbed of illegal trade in Jaeger parts and other related technological components.
The workshop in question contained one completed Jaeger approximately forty feet in height, as well as hundreds of parts that PPDC and local forensic technicians are still cataloguing. It is believed that the homemade Jaeger and the workshop may have ties to the underground mech racing circuits that have gained popularity within the criminal underworld of the Santa Monica slums. Officials cannot confirm or deny this at this time.
The suspects attempted to escape in the Jaeger and damaged several PPDC vehicles before being apprehended by November Ajax, the PPDC’s designated patrol Jaeger for the Southern California region. PPDC staff would not confirm reports that November Ajax was damaged during the struggle.
The names of those arrested are being withheld pending confirmation of their identities.
Jake held it in as long as he could, through the ride in the back of the van to PPDC to the regional HQ where they were processed into a holding cell. But eventually he couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“Should’ve let me pilot,” he said.
“Like this is my fault?” Amara snapped back. He’d just learned her name, when she gave it to the security officer who booked them. “You compromised my command center.”
“Command center—?” That term was a little more elevated than Scrapper’s makeshift Conn-Pod deserved, Jake thought. He shook his head and looked away, trying not to laugh. “I’m not talking to you.”
She didn’t say anything. Jake sat, trying not to look at her or say anything either, but in the end he couldn’t help himself. He had to know. “Why’d you build it?”
“What happened to the not talking?” She glanced over at him long enough to register his displeasure, then looked back at the doors, as if she was planning her risky escape.
“You said you weren’t gonna sell it, so what? Rob a bank or something?” Jake had heard of that. It was a good way to have your robbery caper end with a missile strike instead of police sirens, but some
