I slid my G18 around, checked the pressure, and inserted a fresh dart clip into the rifle. Turning, I gave another glance down at the battle. The cable remained connected to June Mai’s Cargador. The rope ladder dragged across the snow.
Our troops, our Gammas, the last of the Stanleys, had formed a ring around the tractor, gunning down Octos and Regios. Pilate was still alive, as were Sharlotte and Wren. Nichola operated the Marilyn Monroe, stomping down ARK soldiers and using the last of her ammo in her armguns. I didn’t see June Mai, but the smoke and destruction under me was downright biblical.
If Sketchy had been in the Moby Dick, another Jonesy, she wouldn’t have been able to both fight the American helicopters and keep hold of President Jack’s Jonesy. Lucky that we’d upgraded to the Heartbreaker. Well, luck or grace. Whichever.
Turning away from the hatch, my legs shook even as my arms ached. That climb had almost done me in. But desperation fueled my feet.
I was in the central corridor, doors on each side. Down the hallway, Regios rounded the corner. Crouching, I took them down with the darts. Aiming my sights, I didn’t think about how outnumbered I was, or there was a good chance one would shoot me before I shot them. I just concentrated on my training. The neofiber needles streaked through their skin and punctured their internal organs. By the time I was out of ammo, they were all dead. Five of them. I reloaded.
What were Regios doing on President Jack’s zeppelin?
Once my enemy was taken care of, I started slamming open doors but found the luxurious rooms empty.
The hallways were equally as empty. Had I taken out all of the security? Or were they in the machine-gun nests? But I didn’t feel any guns working.
Outside the battle raged. I didn’t have much time.
Another empty room.
Another.
Then. I pushed open a door, and I found him, standing in a suite, carpet, pictures on the wall, the flash of gunfire out of portholes, gold-rimmed.
President Jack Kanton’s face fell when he saw me.
“Hello, Mr. President,” I said. “I’m Cavatica Weller. And you, my friend, are going to answer my questions.”
He went for a communication tube, but I was faster. I pushed him back.
He took a swing at me, but I ducked.
And then I punched the former president of the United States in the gut.
He doubled over.
“That was to get your attention.” I raised a fist. “This? This is for abandoning the Juniper.”
Then I punched him in the nose.
The jackerdan.
I’d hit people for less.
(ii)
President Jack blinked at me. “You hit an eighty-year-old man.”
“Damn right I did,” I spit back. “Don’t make me do it again. How many times has an old man like you hit a nice seventeen-year-old girl like me? Smacked us or did worse? It’s time my gender gave as good as we got.”
Blood dribbling down from his nose, President Jack grinned. “I see you paid attention in your gender politics classes. In Cleveland, I believe. That’s what the dossiers said. An excellent student and true leader. Well, Cavatica, you’ve beaten the odds to get to me. I’m assuming you’ve either come for a ransom or a kiss. I’ll pucker up.”
And he did. That jackerdan pursed his lips together and made kissy noises at me.
I raised a hand again to punch him.
He stopped immediately. “Yeah, prolly not funny.”
Not sure what I expected from one of the most powerful men in the world, but it wasn’t jokes nor incorrect grammar.
“It’s pronounced ‘probably,’” I said.
“Not for me. Not for you either. You and I are good ol’ country folks. Now, how about you handcuff me or whatever, and we’ll get this show on the road. I was never much for small talk.”
“Believe it or not, but I didn’t come here to kidnap you. Not for money. Not for notoriety. I came ’cause you are the one person in the world who might be willing to tell me where the secret ARK facility is in the Juniper. You and Tibbs Hoyt are best buddies. I saw you both in the video feed when you announced you were visiting Denver.”
President Jack rose unsteadily to his feet. He smirked. “I don’t suppose we can have this conversation with me sitting in a chair.”
I motioned with my G18 to a chair. Stepped back, locked the door.
“That’s not necessary.” He slumped down into a cushioned seat, ruffling his shirt and making his tie stick out in a funny angle. He seemed more like a drunk uncle than the former leader of the free world. He grabbed a linen napkin and gingerly wiped at the blood dripping from his nose. “You see, one of my security staff turned on us. She is in control of this zeppelin, and I’m pretty sure she’s not too interested in me. No, it’s you she wants. You and your family. I’m just bait.”
“A Severin,” I whispered. He was a prisoner. How much time did I have until the ARK witches on board came for me?
“You got it. First try. I was briefed on the Severin, but little did I know one had infiltrated my secret service detail. Those things with the tentacles? We never heard about those.”
“I’ve been calling them Octos,” I said.
“Good enough I guess. Those poor Gammas down there won’t be leaving Denver alive. The ARK is nothing if not efficient.” He spoke in that western twang, a Texan moderate democrat who could rally republicans and libertarians and even the most liberal of democrats. Now I knew why. His charisma drew you in, and you felt like family after five minutes.
The 22nd amendment had been temporarily repealed, by popular vote, to keep him on as president and chief. President Jack was something. But he was also the jackerdan that had passed the Masterson-Wayne Act relegating five states back to territories. He created the Juniper and joked about it every chance he got. He was one of the most quoted presidents
