“Halt!” she heard the white bodyshells shouting at the mob. “Proceed no farther or you will be shot!”
“Fuck off or you’ll be scrapped for parts!” someone yelled back from the mob.
Voices erupted in agreement as the people tried to push forward.
“This is your last warning!” the bodyshell in charge of the Council response barked.
“Right back at you, bub!” another cry came.
“Turn around and go home or we will open fire!”
No one was able to reply before gunfire shattered the atmosphere. Some trigger-happy cop got nervous and opened fire before the order went out. Before anyone knew what was going on, both sides exploded into action. Guns from the mob were raised as bullets ripped over the civilians’ heads and tore into the white bodyshells. With panic stamped on their faces, the troops opened fire on anything that moved.
Tera dropped down from Gauge’s shoulders as everyone around them ducked. The bullets whizzed around them; a few rounds ricocheted off the concrete highway ramp. So much noise flooded into Tera’s auditory receivers that she feared they’d be overloaded.
The massacre only lasted a few seconds before the mob rushed forward. A few bodies lay on the ramp — some writhing while others lay perfectly still — as the crowd closed the gap between them and the troops. Before long, the soldiers didn’t even have room to swing their guns around. The mob was upon them, slashing, bashing, and tearing at the bodyshells. Even those without weapons worked together to grapple the cops while the others broke them down to debris.
All of a sudden, it was like the dam broke. The amorphous form of the mob stretched forward as the Council’s line was shattered. Tera and Gauge followed the countless rioters as they pushed their way off the ramp and into the Pavilion.
The sounds of battle didn’t fade away as they left the ruined police line behind, however. A large explosion shook the ground and for a moment, the mob halted. The whine of gunship engines grew louder over their heads as they saw a Union aircraft bombarding the Council troops down below.
Ethan couldn’t stop himself from whispering thanks to whatever deity was watching over him as he climbed into the maintenance hatch. He knew it wasn’t divine intervention or random luck, but the map of the Pavilion Gauge gave him. Even after everything he’d seen and experienced, he was amazed at how much data the People’s Union had gathered on the enemy. Years of underground espionage built to this moment — and it seemed to be paying off.
The commotion from the battle was still ear-shattering, even from within the subterranean duct. Every now and then an explosion would rattle the tunnel and Ethan had to catch himself before he fell. The gunshots came as constant as the whispers of wind and Ethan was already starting to tune them out.
Just keep moving, he reminded himself. I just have to keep moving.
According to Gauge’s map, there was a hatch to the surface in just a half-mile. He just had to keep looking up in the pitch dark tunnel to make sure he didn’t overshoot his mark. From there, it would only be a short sprint to the storage facility. He wished the data they already had was enough to bombard the structure, but Gauge was clear: if they didn’t want to risk wasting all of their ordinance, the beacon had to be placed. Otherwise, they could lose their whole payload on a vacant plot of the Pavilion and the attack would be for nothing.
Ethan had no idea how much time passed as he crawled through the maintenance duct. He felt like his mind was on autopilot, like he was back in the simulation, but had no control over his actions. When he saw the glow from the hatch above, however, he returned to reality and made his way to the surface.
The battle’s volume doubled when he was out of the tunnel, though it came from behind rather than around him. For the most part, the area he emerged in was devoid of life. He ducked low when he saw a few white bodyshells rushing to the frontlines, but they were so occupied with their mission that they didn’t notice him. Staying low, he turned to the north and saw the squat little building Gauge had described to him.
There it is, he thought. I’m almost there.
It was only a hundred meters or so away, but it felt like a mile. At any point during his approach, a Council soldier could spot him and put an end to his mission. Everything depended on him. The pressure was almost enough to make his head explode.
The sound of metallic footsteps reached his ears and he darted behind a short wall on the side of the street. With a peek, he watched a small group of Council soldiers rush past him. One glance to the right and they would see him, but chance was in Ethan’s favor. They ran south, away from the wall he ducked behind. Once they were out of sight, he continued his painful approach toward the storage facility.
He sprinted the last ten feet or so, unstrapping the radio beacon from his chest. He pulled the wax sheet off the back of the device, exposing the adhesive that coated it. Crouching low, Ethan searched for a place to stick it.
He remembered what Gauge told him: put it somewhere too obvious, and they’ll find it and destroy it before the signal can be sent. He needed to put it someplace it could go unnoticed for at least ten minutes.
Ethan followed the outer wall of the storage facility until he came to a doorway.
