“Whoever can get out here first. Last thing we need is a major fire running loose in the city.”
There was a single gunshot from the truck. Billie lifted her pistol from Ty’s forehead and rammed it back into her holster.
NOW
Fifteen
Gorgon pounded his fist on the door as he entered the mill. “You here?” he called out. He shrugged out of his duster and walked into the huge room.
Cerberus had adopted one of the studio’s workshops as her own. It was a large space, but the armor maintenance filled most of it. Film-set walls made a small private area for her bed and a few pieces of furniture. The plumbers had knocked one of the side-by-side bathrooms apart and replaced it with a bare-bones shower.
The room was centered around four large work tables made from full-sized sheets of plywood. Carved shapes of foam were mounted on each one, cradles for specific pieces of equipment. One table had a laptop. Another had a small Honda generator mounted under it.
A four-step ladder stood between them. The metal titan stalked back and forth by it, fastened to the wall by a thick power cable that ran into the armor’s waist. “Where’ve you been?”
“Domestic disturbance.” He threw his coat over a chair and tugged at his gloves.
“We’re going to be late.”
“We’ll be fine. Not like they can start without us.”
“The wrenches are over there.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to be able to get it all on your own. We should wait for St. George.”
He shook his head and tapped his goggles. “I told you, I broke up a fight on the way over here. I’m good for an hour or so. I told him to just get Barry.”
“Are you sure?” She stood in front of the ladder and held her arms out to either side.
“Stop putting it off and strip,” he said with a smirk.
“Fuck you.” She blinked a few commands to the suit’s computer, whispered a passcode, and across the armor two dozen matchbook-sized panels popped open to expose bolts. The wide collar of armor slid apart to reveal another four sockets. “The head first.”
“Yeah I know.” He stepped up the ladder and looked her in the eyes. “We’ve done this a couple dozen times now.”
“Sorry.”
Gorgon slid the allen wrench into the collar and worked out each of the front bolts. A few minutes later he reached around the armored skull, and loosened the two in the back. He pocketed the wrench and grabbed the helmet with both hands. “Ready?”
Cerberus nodded, the faint hum of the battle suit vanished, and its eyes went gray as it stiffened into a statue. He heaved and the armor’s sixty-pound head came up. He heard a faint hiss as seals opened, half a dozen clicks as USB plugs popped out of sockets, and then a deep breath.
Danielle had pale skin that made her freckles stand out. Her strawberry-blonde hair was damp and plastered in strings against her forehead. She winced at the sudden expanse of open space, blinked a couple times, and tried to peek over the armored collar. “Got it?”
“Yes, I’ve got it,” he sighed. He stepped down the ladder and set the helmet down in one of the cradles near the laptop. “You reek, you know that? How long have you been in there?”
“Thirty-nine hours.”
He climbed back up the ladder and attacked the bolts on her left shoulder. Fifteen minutes later the armored limb was in its own cradle and he was working on the next one.
She shook out her hand and squeezed the fingers into a fist two or three times. Her arm was sheathed in black Lycra. It looked skinny and frail compared to the rest of the battlesuit.
Gorgon moved the ladder behind her. Six bolts held the back half of the torso in place. He finished the last one and tapped her on the head. “Ready to get out?”
She wrapped her arms around the suit’s chest and nodded.
The armor plates scraped apart and the torso split down the sides. The back half was the size of a car hood. Six interlocking plates attached to a titanium spine weighing three hundred pounds. Gorgon tipped the section toward himself, took a step down the ladder, and let it drop into his arms. He took a few steps back and set it down on one of the tables.
Danielle twisted her head back. “Good?”
He stepped up the ladder and put a hand on the small of her back just below a harness strap. The Lycra was damp with sweat. “Got you.”
She let go of the chest plate and dropped back. He got his arms around her, took another step up, and lifted. She wiggled her hips and her legs slid free of the armor.
“Jesus,” he said. “You stink like a locker room.”
“Shut up and put me down. And watch your hands for once.”
He let her legs drop and she put weight on her feet. Her knees buckled and she grabbed at him.
“Sure you’re good?”
Her skintight suit let him see every tremble and quiver. “I’m fine,” she said. “It just takes a minute.” She took a few wobbly steps until she was used to being human again and stumbled to the nearest table.