Stewart heard the roar of an engine behind him, and his confidence swelled again. The truck from the armory was here with fresh ammunition. In just a few minutes things were going to be under control.
It wasn’t a truck. Not even a jeep. It was one of the Guardians from the motor pool, building up speed fast. One soldier was lugging a case of ammo and was sucked under the vehicle’s wheels in a windmill of surprised, broken limbs.
The armored car roared past Stewart, aimed straight at St. George’s knot. He caught a quick glimpse of the driver. It was a grinning soldier with pale skin and a green box on the side of its head.
*
In the lobby of Barracks Eight, Truman, Franklin, and Monroe took turns pounding on St. George with their rifle stocks. They started on his back, and when he tried to get away Jefferson grabbed his leg and flipped him over. The metal stocks were nicked and dented where they’d hit his bones. He rolled to the side to dodge one of Truman’s blows. The rifle cracked the tile floor and the concrete beneath it.
Freedom had punched him once, right at the start. A big roundhouse punch in the jaw. If he’d been a regular man it would’ve snapped his neck. Since he’d fallen to the ground, Kennedy had kicked him once in the gut, and Monroe twice in the small of his back.
“Stay down, sir,” said Freedom. “We do not have direct orders to kill you but I do have that authorization if you do not surrender.”
The hero threw a punch from the ground that grazed Monroe’s jaw. The man staggered back, then charged in again with an angry glare. He drove his boot into St. George’s kidneys and the hero winced. “I’m not going to surrender to a bunch of bullies in uniform.”
Truman’s rifle hit his shoulder blade and he dropped to the floor again.
“For what it’s worth, sir,” said Freedom, “I wish it hadn’t come to this. I had a lot of respect for you.”
“Yeah, you seem really heartbroken.” He got the words out just before Kennedy’s knuckles connected with the back of his skull.
“I’m just following orders.”
“Orders?” Another punch struck his head.
“You’re to be detained, and then you and your companions will accompany us to a secure facility.”
“You’ve got something—” He whuffed out a cloud of smoke as someone drove a kick into his stomach. “You’ve got something else besides Yuma?”
“That we do, sir. The Air Force’s Groom Lake facility in Nevada. Agent Smith has decided it would be a safer location.”
St. George tried to raise his head and winced again. “And, what,” he said, “you’re just going to load us on a helicopter and fly us there?”
Freedom looked down at him. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen, sir. Stealth is already in handcuffs and there’s a Black Hawk prepping.”
“In that case, captain,” he said, “for what it’s worth, I’ve been—” He coughed a stream of smoke and fire as another kick connected with his gut.
“What was that, sir?”
He rolled onto his knees and brushed the rifles away with a sweep of his hand. “I said I’ve been faking it.”
They had a moment to look confused.
And then St. George’s backhand sent Truman through the far wall of the lobby.
*
“Gibbs,” said Danielle, “that’s you in there, isn’t it? We’re not the enemy.”
“Doctor Morris,” said the battlesuit, “please keep your hands up. Until I get orders otherwise, I am treating the three of you as hostiles.”
“On what grounds?”
“Hijacking,” said Gibbs. The titan turned its head to Cesar. The young man stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m sure Colonel Shelly and Captain Freedom will be interested to know you brought another super-powered person with you.”
We didn’t bring him with us, said Zzzap, gliding forward.
“Keep your distance, sir,” said the battlesuit. “This weaponry might not be able to hurt you, but I’m sure you don’t want any harm to come to your friends.”
“Gibbs, come on,” snapped the redhead. “You must have seen the exes overrunning the base. You need to be dealing with that problem right now, not us.”
“Ummmm,” said Cesar, “you all hear that?”
The growl of an approaching engine came from behind the battlesuit. About half a mile down, a Humvee swung out onto Dirt Road. It took the corner so sharp the wide-bodied vehicle almost lifted onto two wheels. It roared along the fence line at close to seventy miles an hour.
In seconds it was close enough for them to see the face behind the wheel. It was a buzz-cut woman with leathery skin. There was a gash along her forehead down to the Nest unit blinking on her temple. Legion grinned at them from behind her chalky eyes.
It took Danielle another few seconds to put it together, and Cesar dragged her out of the way, back against the lab buildings.