DIRE : SEED (The Dire Saga Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Andrew Seiple
nearly up, and I wasn’t in position yet.
I hit the stairway door at a run, catching it with my shoulder. A dusty hall stretched before me. It was the older section of the courthouse, under renovations for the last few month. It had been child’s play, and the work of a few careful weeks, to infiltrate the contractors and smuggle my tech in bit by bit. Interfacing it with the armor in the orbital drop pod above had been the tricky part. Doing that without anyone catching my signal had been a trial of patience. Once the synch had been established, my harness and goggles let me pilot the suit remotely, act as though I was in it from the start.
But that part of this deception was over. Now I was depending on the FBI to follow their procedures. While I thought about it, I snagged a blue jacket off its hook, and pulled it on. Simplicity itself to swipe one from last night’s laundry crew, replace it with a cheap knockoff. The name on the back was ‘Wilson’. I knew she wouldn’t be in the team on duty today, and my hair was roughly the same shade. Thanks to a little prepwork, I now matched her style.
I slid through the emergency exit, ignored the fleeing crowd, and looked around for my targets. If they followed the plans that their chief had detailed in the gridmails I’d hacked, the van would be pulling up right about...
There. The two FBI agents I’d let escape the courtroom stood at the curb, with Martin between them. I ran to join them. “What’s the situation?” I barked, as the older one turned to look at me.
“Villain attack! We need to—”
The stungun concealed in my grip took him in the solar plexus, and he collapsed in a whisper of cloth.
“SNIPER!” I bellowed, seizing Martin’s arm with my free hand, and hustling him toward the van as it screeched to a halt. The younger one jumped, let go of Martin, and grabbed his partner.
“Matty? Matty? Oh god!”
“Call an ambulance!” I howled at him. “Gonna secure Jackson!”
I ripped the side door open, shoved Martin forward into the van, and climbed in behind him, surveying the interior. One driver, one agent in back, crouched low with an assault rifle. Metal mesh between the driver and the back compartment.
“Go go go!” I yelled, and the gunner pulled the door shut, as we braced ourselves and the van peeled out.
“What’s the situation?” The guard asked.
I stungunned him in the face. He jerked, started to fall, and I grabbed him, pulled him in close as if I was talking into his ear.
“Oh shit,” Martin said. He started laughing hysterically.
“Hey! Shut up back there!” The driver yelled.
I kept nodding my head next to the unconscious agent’s, like I was whispering to him. We made it about five blocks before the driver got suspicious.
“Hey, Wilson, what happened back there?”
I turned, face etched into a frown. “Villain attack.” But he was looking past me, and his eyes widened, as he took in the gunner’s slack face and closed eyes.
I sighed, then let my mouth open into a wide, clenched grin. “And you’re next. Stop the van.”
“You killed Higgins? Bad mistake.” He reached for the dashboard, and hit the button that would fill the back compartment with teargas.
My smile got wider. “You guys really should have used more than one van to transport the prisoner.”
He pushed the button a few more times, swore. But he wasn’t stopping. I shook my head, and pulled out my universal remote, clicked through until I got the right menu. “After all, it was easy to disable your security.”
He grabbed for the CB radio, and that I couldn’t allow. “Brace yourself,” I told Martin, and followed my own advice as I hit the button on the universal remote.
The van screeched to a halt, the airbag fired up in the driver’s face, and all the doors clicked open at once. I was moving the second it stopped, whipping around the side of the van, jerking the passenger door open, and jamming my stungun into the visible thigh
I hit the stairway door at a run, catching it with my shoulder. A dusty hall stretched before me. It was the older section of the courthouse, under renovations for the last few month. It had been child’s play, and the work of a few careful weeks, to infiltrate the contractors and smuggle my tech in bit by bit. Interfacing it with the armor in the orbital drop pod above had been the tricky part. Doing that without anyone catching my signal had been a trial of patience. Once the synch had been established, my harness and goggles let me pilot the suit remotely, act as though I was in it from the start.
But that part of this deception was over. Now I was depending on the FBI to follow their procedures. While I thought about it, I snagged a blue jacket off its hook, and pulled it on. Simplicity itself to swipe one from last night’s laundry crew, replace it with a cheap knockoff. The name on the back was ‘Wilson’. I knew she wouldn’t be in the team on duty today, and my hair was roughly the same shade. Thanks to a little prepwork, I now matched her style.
I slid through the emergency exit, ignored the fleeing crowd, and looked around for my targets. If they followed the plans that their chief had detailed in the gridmails I’d hacked, the van would be pulling up right about...
There. The two FBI agents I’d let escape the courtroom stood at the curb, with Martin between them. I ran to join them. “What’s the situation?” I barked, as the older one turned to look at me.
“Villain attack! We need to—”
The stungun concealed in my grip took him in the solar plexus, and he collapsed in a whisper of cloth.
“SNIPER!” I bellowed, seizing Martin’s arm with my free hand, and hustling him toward the van as it screeched to a halt. The younger one jumped, let go of Martin, and grabbed his partner.
“Matty? Matty? Oh god!”
“Call an ambulance!” I howled at him. “Gonna secure Jackson!”
I ripped the side door open, shoved Martin forward into the van, and climbed in behind him, surveying the interior. One driver, one agent in back, crouched low with an assault rifle. Metal mesh between the driver and the back compartment.
“Go go go!” I yelled, and the gunner pulled the door shut, as we braced ourselves and the van peeled out.
“What’s the situation?” The guard asked.
I stungunned him in the face. He jerked, started to fall, and I grabbed him, pulled him in close as if I was talking into his ear.
“Oh shit,” Martin said. He started laughing hysterically.
“Hey! Shut up back there!” The driver yelled.
I kept nodding my head next to the unconscious agent’s, like I was whispering to him. We made it about five blocks before the driver got suspicious.
“Hey, Wilson, what happened back there?”
I turned, face etched into a frown. “Villain attack.” But he was looking past me, and his eyes widened, as he took in the gunner’s slack face and closed eyes.
I sighed, then let my mouth open into a wide, clenched grin. “And you’re next. Stop the van.”
“You killed Higgins? Bad mistake.” He reached for the dashboard, and hit the button that would fill the back compartment with teargas.
My smile got wider. “You guys really should have used more than one van to transport the prisoner.”
He pushed the button a few more times, swore. But he wasn’t stopping. I shook my head, and pulled out my universal remote, clicked through until I got the right menu. “After all, it was easy to disable your security.”
He grabbed for the CB radio, and that I couldn’t allow. “Brace yourself,” I told Martin, and followed my own advice as I hit the button on the universal remote.
The van screeched to a halt, the airbag fired up in the driver’s face, and all the doors clicked open at once. I was moving the second it stopped, whipping around the side of the van, jerking the passenger door open, and jamming my stungun into the visible thigh
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