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Lathe shrugged. "Then we've lost it. Pure and simple. But I've got a very strong hunch that he can."
"I hope you're right. About that and everything else." Skyler scowled, an unusual expression for him.
"What with us skating along here and Haven and Greene ru
Lathe smiled. "Come on, Skyler. Have I ever let you down?"
"No—and that's what's worrying me. So far you've won everything but the damn war itself.
Eventually, you're going to have to lose one."
"Who says? Come on—I'll buy you a drink from Reger's private cellar. That'll cheer you up. And then you can go talk to Caine's team chock full of confidence while I brace Reger about his laser."
Chapter 24
The sun was low in the western sky as the two vans headed out from Reger's fortress home, driving north along the deceptively peaceful road to the eastward highway before turning south toward the heart of Denver proper. Seated on the floor in the back of the lead vehicle, Caine found himself fingering his nunchaku and slingshot restlessly, trying without any real success to project a confidence he didn't feel. It was a wasted effort: Colvin and Alamzad, seated across from him, were far too nervous themselves to pay any attention, while Mordecai, presumably privy to more of the details of Lathe's plan than Caine had been, didn't seem to need any reassurance. Though maybe that was just Mordecai.
Licking his lips for the half-millionth time, Caine slid off his flexarmor gloves and rubbed at his eyes. "Goggles down," Mordecai said quietly over his shoulder from the front seat. "And gloves back on. This is a combat zone."
"Right." Caine obeyed, wondering how the hell blackcollars developed such good back-of-the-head eyesight.
Behind the wheel, Pittman shifted in his seat. "This should be New Hampden coming up now," he told the blackcollar sitting beside him. "Do I turn onto it, or pull over and wait for the others?"
"Turn," Mordecai said. "There's at least a klick to go before we reach the fence—plenty of time for Lathe to close the gap."
"Okay." The van curved smoothly around the corner, and Caine craned his neck to get a look ahead through the windshield. There were few things more u
Across the van, Alamzad cleared his throat. "Assuming we get through the fence without bringing the lasers down on us, do we have any actual idea where Security will have Silcox hidden?"
"Security building, of course," Mordecai said briefly. "Don't worry—it should be easy to find."
"Right—it's the one that'll have all the troops around it shooting at us," Colvin put in.
"And a rooftop landing pad," Mordecai told him. "There'll only be a couple of buildings like that, even in Athena—"
He broke off as their tinglers came on: Security spotters to either side; break off operation.
Mordecai swore gently under his breath. "Take the next right, Pittman," he ordered. "We'll circle around north and regroup with the other—"
And abruptly, the van's windows blazed with light.
The vehicle slammed to a halt, tumbling Caine and the other two up against the seats. For a single, horrible heartbeat Caine thought they'd taken a direct antiaircraft laser bolt, but even as he scrambled into a crouch his senses caught up enough to realize that the metal walls weren't melting around them and that the air inside the van was hot but not scalding. "What—?"
"Laser shots at the engine and tires," Mordecai snapped back. The blackcollar was already out of his restraints and grappling with an apparently heat-warped door. "Everyone out—we'll have a better chance outside."
Caine launched himself toward the van's rear doors, hitting the release lever and shoving them open in the same motion. He leaped out, hands coming up with a ready pair of shuriken... and froze in disbelief.
Facing the van from both sides of the street, half hidden behind a quick-foam barricade, were at least fifty Security men, lasers pointed and ready. Lathe's van had skidded to a crabbing halt a few meters behind theirs; beyond it Caine could see another barrier blocking movement in that direction.
Reflexively, he hurled his shuriken anyway, but the taste of defeat was already welling up like vomit in his mouth. The game was over, and from the size and preparation of the force arrayed against them, it was obvious they'd been primed and ready.
Reger had betrayed them.
"You can't escape," an amplified voice boomed from somewhere, its point of origin lost among the echoes from the surrounding buildings. "This is General Qui
Caine risked a glance upward. Hovering perhaps a hundred meters above them was a long, sharkshaped aircraft, reflected grav light showing the weapons pods on either side of its fuselage. The firepower that had taken out their vans... and could just as thoroughly take them out as well.
Tactics, strategies, contingencies—all his training seemed to swirl together into a useless, half-gelled mess. Behind him, he could sense Colvin and Alamzad crouching just inside the van's doors, waiting for a lead they could follow. Waiting for him to take action.
And he couldn't. There was nothing he could think of to do that wouldn't mean their instant death.
His first command... and he'd failed.
From around the van a quiet voice broke into his anguish. "Do as the man says, Caine," Mordecai said. "But don't give up hope."
Swallowing hard, Caine slowly lifted his hands over his head.
—
The man in charge of the operation was, at least, no fool. Neither the men at the barricades nor the fighter overhead made the slightest move until all ten of their prisoners were out in the open. Only then did a new group of Security men step forward, several of them lugging pairs of heavy-duty maglock forearm shackles. A lump rose in Caine's throat at the sight of the shackles... a lump of deja vu and the painful realization that this time, at least, history would not be repeating itself.
And then the group came close enough for faces to be distinguished... and the mag-lock shackles were suddenly forgotten. "Galway!" Caine gasped.
"Caine." The perfect nodded gravely. His eyes swept the group, found Lathe; but it was another man who brushed by him and faced the comsquare.
"Comsquare Lathe, I'm General Qui
"Spare us the official speech, General," Lathe cut him off. His voice was calm enough, but Caine sensed a hint of steel beneath it.
Apparently the general did, too, and for a moment his triumphant expression slipped a bit. But he recovered quickly. "I see that bravado remains part of a blackcollar's arsenal." He sneered. "I suggest you don't bother frying to impress me with your stoicism. From now on, I'm the one who decides your fate, and I've always found a particular satisfaction in breaking people who pretend they can't be broken."
"No," Mordecai said quietly. "You're wrong."
All eyes turned to the small blackcollar. "Wrong about what?" Qui
"That you decide our fate," Mordecai told him calmly... but there was something about his face that sent a shiver down Caine's back. "You have only the power we grant you. I choose not to give you any at all."