The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

Then I felt the wind shift, and shielded my eyes at the dust the heloship kicked up as Jeff piloted it low to the ground, the weird whirring noise growing as the ship moved above us. The tips of the trees we were hidden in swayed under the force of the air displaced by the massive propellers, and I moved my binoculars back to the plant’s defenses in time to see one woman pointing up, then running back, disappearing behind the horizon of the hill.

“Hold your position,” I reminded everyone, speaking loudly, since the wind from the heloship would mask any sound I made. “Don’t move until we see Drew’s team.”

“Targets acquired,” Jeff broadcasted. “Lighting them up.”

There was a small, barely discernable hum, and then a thunderous roar went off as the gun mounted to the wings of the heloship activated, cracking through the silence like a never-ending roll of thunder. Even though I knew exactly where he would be—to the left of us, hovering over some trees—I still couldn’t see him until the flash of the guns caught my eye, revealing the heloship’s boat-like underbelly. Something exploded just over the hill, the roll of smoke and fire illuminating the hillside in a bright orange flash, dragging my attention to the battlefield.

“Fuel tank hit,” said Jeff. “Moving to secondary target.” I watched as Jeff adjusted the line of fire, expending every last bit of ammo we had left on the heloship. The line of bullets cut right, and then left, and several other explosions rocked the night.

“Yeah, get ‘em, Jeff!” Amber crowed triumphantly over the line. “You are handling that thing beautifully.”

“Just doing my part, Ms. Ashabee,” he replied, but I could hear the reluctance in his voice. Jeff didn’t enjoy violence, so this had been a compromise for him: hit the fuel reserves that helped supply the emergency generators of the plant, and hopefully stop some of the inner workings of the plant without setting it back so far that it would no longer be able to supply Patrus with water. This had the added benefit of making the Matrian forces pull back a little bit, and giving our assault team a chance to move in—before they realized how small our forces really were.

“Good work,” announced Henrik. “Drew, bring your team in now!”

“Roger,” replied Drew’s low voice. My heart began to thud, knowing our time was close, and I tried my best to move past it, settling into the cold and analytical feeling of true battle. I looked down the line, assessing, and saw that several of my people had let go of their rifles to cover their ears, trying to dampen the loud roar of the heloship’s guns. I tapped Alejandro on the shoulder, pointing down the line at them. He nodded, and turned to tap the next person down the line, alerting them to grab their guns.

Jeff’s guns suddenly fell silent. “Ammo expended, returning to base.” The heloship began to pull away, and a dark movement on the road behind us caught my eye. I turned to watch a dark blue car speed up the hill past me and then swerve right, coming to a screeching halt perpendicular to the road, half on and half off it, the passenger side facing the plant.

“Go go go!” Henrik shouted as the second car roared up.

That was our cue. I stood, motioning my team to follow, and charged toward the car, not bothering to stoop over, as it would slow me down. The driver of the first car slid out, rifle clutched to his chest, keeping low. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, alerting me that my team was keeping up.

The next car barreled up past me when I was just emerging from the tree line, the third hot on its tail. The lead car passed the first, and then cut hard to the right, replicating the first car’s position on the opposite side of the road, ten to fifteen feet past the first. The third one cut back to our side, staggering the line.

And so it went, the next car becoming the next bit of cover that we could hide behind as we charged up the hill toward our selected entrance to the plant. I made it to the first vehicle and dove behind it as the fifth car passed. “Twenty seconds,” I announced over the transmitter on my team’s channel. “Mags’ team right, Alejandro’s team left… my team right up the middle.”

Gregory gave me an approving smile from where he crouched beside me, while Tim’s face was neutral. The young man squatted behind the hood of the car at the wheel well, his silver eyes watching Henrik’s plan unfold. I watched from behind as the cars continued to zoom past, the drivers not bothering to modulate their speed until the very end.

Rifle fire shattered the calm that had settled in the wake of Jeff’s departure, sounding from the top of the hill, and I watched one car come to a screeching halt on the left side of the road, in the right position—but with no sign of the driver anymore.

“MOVE!” I shouted, and swung around the back of the first car, charging up the middle. Gregory easily kept pace beside me, while Tim lagged behind, his pistol in his hand. The hill was steep, making it difficult to see the Matrian guards flooding out of the plant until they were at the top.

Tim was the first to fire, three shots in rapid succession. Three women dropped, and I found myself envious of the young man’s heightened reflexes. More women took their place, however, and I dove for cover behind the third car as bullets began to spray down the hill.

The next car in the line squealed past, driving directly into their line of fire in hopes of scattering them. The driver—one of Drew’s people—didn’t let up on the gas, even as bullets ricocheted off the hood and window. I fired my rifle around it, trying to help draw some of the fire off of the car, and then its tires squealed as the driver went over the horizon of the hill… and I lost sight of him.

Gunfire filled the air now, bullets raining thickly on us and pinging and zinging off the cars we hid behind. I continued to press forward, leading the charge up the hill. I darted across the road to the opposite car, firing as I went, and then pulled the back door open. I belly-slid into the backseat, and then sat up, firing on the opposite side of the road from the backseat.

The hood of the car dipped, and I turned to see Carl climbing on it. “Carl, don’t!” I shouted in warning as the man began to fire, but it was too late. He had barely squeezed the trigger when his body jerked and fell back. I squirmed back out of the car as bullets attacked the rear glass.

“Is he alive?” I asked whoever was listening, belly-crawling toward the hood.

I came around the corner where Tim was leaning over Carl, his fingers at his throat. He met my gaze over his shoulder and shook his head. I felt a stab of pain, and then pushed it aside, knowing that if I were to fixate on that feeling, I wouldn’t be able to move forward. I had to focus on the rush of battle, on the adrenaline surging through my veins, and feel as little as possible. I’d done this before, but it was never easy.

“Take his ammo,” I said softly. “We’ll find him after the battle.”

Tim’s lips shook, but he nodded, and began to search for the ammunition on Carl’s still form. I slid into a sitting position and looked at Gregory, who was leaning on the other side. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice almost a shout over the sounds of the guns.