Callsign: Queen (Zelda Baker) (Chess Team, #2)

“That’s a nasty wound,” she said, motioning to the bullet hole in his stomach. “It will take about fifteen minutes, but it’s going to kill you. You don’t deserve the time, but if you believe in God, now’s your chance to make your peace.” The last thing he saw of her was her blonde hair swinging to and fro.

Despair turned to bitterness as the inevitability of his death took hold in his mind. This couldn’t be happening! Their security force, Darius’s tricks and Darius himself, should have been enough to stop a solitary woman. What had happened to Darius, anyway? Why hadn’t he come to Andrew’s aid? Darius had left him to fend for himself, probably hiding or even running away to save his own neck. Well, they could all kiss his ass. Andrew wouldn’t be the only one to die this day.

With strength borne of bitterness and despair, he rolled over onto his stomach and crawled to his desk, leaving a thick smear of blood on the white tile. Pain and loss of blood made him dizzy, but he managed to haul himself up far enough that he was able to reach his computer mouse and keyboard. A few clicks, a single command, and it was done.

She’d be begging God for mercy long before he did.

Andrew grinned at the thought of every remaining oborot running loose on a turning night, with hours left until dawn.

Something clattered behind him and he looked back to see a dark object the size of a baseball bouncing toward him. Then the world erupted in a blinding flash and he was dead, torn apart by a grenade before his body could send pain signals to his mind.




Movement out of the corner of her eye caused Queen to hit the ground and roll. The air above her was alive with a sound like hypersonic hornets, and the wall behind her was torn apart. A Metal Storm weapon! She’d had enough of these things to last a lifetime. She looked for a target but the shooter had already ducked around the far corner out of sight. She did the same, sliding back into the hallway.

“You should have taken my offer.” The voice was the same one that had taunted her in the amusement park.

“You must be Darius,” she replied

“My reputation precedes me. I’m flattered.”

Her mind raced for a solution. She was outgunned and had no cover to mask her approach. She could pitch a grenade down the hall, but he was likely to be expecting that, and would clear out long before it went off. She could follow the hall and see what lay in the direction away from the computer lab she had just blown up. She could continue her destruction and force him to pursue her. Of course, he knew this place better than she did, and she might just walk into yet another trap. She gritted her teeth. Caution of any kind was not her usual M.O., but she was determined to stay alive for two reasons: to get revenge for Armina and to find out what happened to Rook.

“So, what brings you here? How did you find us?”

Queen thought the question was odd. He had to know that Manifold Gamma, Beta and Alpha had been compromised and that Richard Ridley no longer ran the company. But if he didn’t, that information might be more powerful than any bullet. “You haven’t heard, have you?” she called down the hall.

The man didn’t reply. He was no doubt trying to figure out her angle.

“Manifold has been shut down,” she said. “Richard Ridley is dead.”

“Bullshit,” the man said quickly.

“When was the last time you heard from him?”

No reply.

“We found your location thanks to intel recovered from one of the Manifold facilities.”

“Ridley would have destroyed the—”

“Ridley fell out of a helicopter. Two hundred feet. Hit every branch on the way down. He was in pieces when we found his body.” This was only partly true. Ridley had actually jumped out of the helicopter and all they’d recovered was his arm. He reappeared again, more dangerous than before, but they’d taken him out for good—buried him under a mountain. But Darius didn’t need to know all that. All that mattered was that Ridley wouldn’t be coming back. “Think about it. How else could we have found you?”

No retort answered her question. Darius might or might not believe her, but he wasn’t giving up the fight. Quick as a flash, he swung around the corner, aiming his Metal Storm weapon in her direction. Queen had been waiting for the attack though, and she managed to fire off a single round and duck back before another hail of projectiles shredded the wall a few feet above where she had lain. She’d had only the briefest glance at her enemy, but now she had a visual to go with the voice: a tall, barrel of a man with pale skin, a long toucan beak of a nose, and scars crisscrossing his shaved head.

“Not a bad shot for a girl.” She took satisfaction at the note of pain underlying his forced bravado. “You winged me, but it’s just a scratch. Want to try again? You should be able to hit a big target like me.”