Dahlia watched the radar for any change. A surge of unabated excitement filled her. The rocket suits were built for a specific purpose: to take down enemy aircraft. She would need every ounce of concentration that she could get while performing the takedown. Gregor had no experience piloting anything except a liquor bottle. In order to succeed, she would need to pilot for both of them. She glanced over at Gregor, who was examining the suit with great interest.
“We’re going to take down an aircraft while wearing these?” Gregor said, pointing at a suit.
“Yes, it’s going to require some skill for both of us to pull it off. We will need to rely on each other.”
Gregor took a closer look at the suit. He examined its texture, the electronic interface, and the radio uplink.
“How do we communicate with each other in flight?”
“Each suit has a short-wave radio frequency that only the suits can decode. We will be able to speak freely while in-flight.”
A chirping noise emitted from the radar. Dahlia examined the screen. Based on the altitude and speed, it appeared to be a small aircraft.
“We need to get in the suit while our launch window is open,” Dahlia said.
Gregor looked alarmed. He seemed to be having trouble speaking.
“How?”
He pulled at the suit awkwardly and almost damaged it.
“Slow down,” Dahlia said, helping him.
Moments later, Gregor resembled a man in an oversized leather jacket.
“Turn around.”
No sooner had he complied than Dahlia hoisted a rocket pack onto his back and wrapped a strap around his chest.
“Hey, it’s too tight. It’s stuffy and I’m sweating in here.”
“It needs to be. You don’t want the rocket to leave you behind when you’re thousands of feet into the air. The suit is designed to keep you warm. You’ll thank me later when you’re ten thousand feet up.”
Dahlia activated the launch sequence. An alarm sounded and red lights flickered. Gregor gave her a frightful look. Both rocket suits launched simultaneously. While Dahlia was fully briefed on the operation of the rocket suits, a wave of anxious excitement overcame her. Gregor screamed as the full gravitational pull of the rockets took hold. Dahlia monitored the pull of the G-Force. They were pulling a little more than three gravitational units. She estimated that Gregor weighed about 150 pounds. She compensated for the pull of the G-Force and estimated that his mass was the equivalent to 450 pounds. She adjusted the rockets to compensate.
“Shut up Gregor and take it like a man. We’re in sight of our target—and open your eyes before I have to scrape your hide off the fuselage.”
Dahlia slowed the rocket to match the speed of the aircraft, which was a two engine propeller plane.
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“Follow my lead. Your suit is programmed to follow me. I just need you to steer clear of any obstacles. Can you handle that?”
“Affirmative.”
Dahlia steered toward the side door and instructed her cybernetic arm to pull on the door. It became unhinged and blew away in the wind. The plane veered away from them. Soon it was heading toward the ground. Dahlia leaped inside. Gregor ducked as debris from the plane nearly hit him. Dahlia surveyed the interior of the plane. Two people cowered in their seats. An older man in his seventies was piloting and losing control from the looks of it. Once she and Gregor were inside, Dahlia shut off the rockets completely.
“Pull up,” Dahlia said.
The man obeyed, but couldn’t control the craft. She took control of the flight controls and pulled back on the yoke. One of the engines stalled.
Nothing’s ever easy!
She jumped in the copilot’s seat and assisted the pilot. The second engine was at risk of stopping. She adjusted the fuel mixture and, along with her maneuvering, was able to stabilize the plane and bring both engines online.
“Thank you, but who the hell are you, anyway?” the man said.
Dahlia removed her helmet to get a better look at the old man. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. A clapping sound came from the rear of the plane.
“Bravo, your reputation as the Black Heart proceeds you,” a man’s voice said.
Dahlia followed the direction of the voice. Her eyes widened as she recognized the man who she was hunting. A young woman, a few years older than Nigel, held a curved sword to Gregor’s throat.
“Doc Chop!” Dahlia said.
The man laughed.
“You may call me Dr. Sylvester. Let’s be civil.”
She couldn’t believe she’d hijacked Doc Chop’s plane. How could she be so stupid?
“I see you’ve been modified,” Doc Chop said as he approached. He took a hand and caressed her implants. “I’m sorry, may I?”
He took her silence for compliance and moved his hand across her modified body.
“Oh, I recognize this work. Did Dr. Clemmant retrofit you?”
Dahlia nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Her mind raced to find a logical explanation. She didn’t believe in coincidences.
“Let him go, Anya. That’s no way to treat a friend.”
“You are not a friend,” Dahlia said.
The doctor laughed like she just told the funniest joke in the world.
“I’m also not your enemy. Hear me out and you’ll find that our interests are aligned.”
“Last I heard you were working with that traitorous Mr. Chen.”
“Oh, him? We’ve had a parting of ways. After he helped me amass a cybernetic army, he wasn’t any use to me.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened.
“You killed him?”
“Not exactly. You could say that his priorities have been realigned. He’s now a general in my army. In fact, he’s leading a raid on Boston as we speak. Anya and I stayed for the first part, but had to leave to see to our interests in New York.”
“What’s in New York?”
“Our base of operations has been disrupted by a group of rebels. I believe you know one of them.”
Dahlia gave him a blank stare. She had no idea who he was talking about.
“Oh, I expected more from the Black Heart. You should have guessed by now.”
Dahlia hated riddles, and this man seemed to be full of them. Her mind raced as she tried to put it all together—but since her transformation, her mind was cloudy.
“I’m not in the mood for games, Doctor.”
“It’s Nigel Watson. He’s teamed up with our enemy. He holds the key to the control center. Without it, I cannot take control of the last vestiges of the military.”
I haven’t seen Nigel—or the girls since the bunker! I’d better play along.
“Can you tell me more about these rebels? Perhaps I can help.”
Dr. Sylvester gave her a wicked smile. “So, you wish to join us?”
Dahlia nodded.
“Good, I can always use the help of one of the most feared assassins ever to walk the earth. Very well then, he’s with a group of rebels in midtown Manhattan. My colleague Professor Paladin wishes them dead. Especially the one known as Aiko.”
Dahlia’s mouth went dry and her heart raced at the memory of her adoptive daughter getting maimed and almost killed by one of Doc Chop’s minions. She reminded herself that this man was a means to an end. She would help him as long as he kept his end of the bargain. She needed to be fixed, and Doc Chop was one of the world’s foremost experts on cybernetic enhancement. Men like him always wanted world domination. That was bad for business. The rules for this game had changed, and she didn’t know what she was going to do about it.