The quiet war the MDF had going on with a rogue faction of the CIA was escalating, and Kyle didn’t have any hope it would conclude quietly.
“I’ll take point,” Kyle said, already moving forward.
“Copy that, Reaper,” Donovan replied.
Kyle’s rapid healing ability meant he could take more damage than most people and survive. He wasn’t invincible, not by a long shot, and it still fucking hurt every time he got wounded, but in his mind better he took the hit than one of his teammates.
Kyle entered the building through a hole in the wall after scanning for any potential tripwires or sensors. All scans came up negative. The hallway he came into was surprisingly clear of debris, and the holes in the roof had been recently patched. Some sections were shored up by metal supports that weren’t rusted through, unlike in other areas.
Donovan covered his six while the Strike Force operatives spread out to clear the immediate area. Kyle listened to the quiet directions Donovan gave him, running off his enhanced sight, to arrive at a metal trap door welded shut in the cracked cement floor.
“I could shoot it open?” Kyle wondered out loud.
“Or I could phase you through it. You won’t waste any ammo that way,” Sean said as he walked through the wall on their left.
“Reaper likes shooting things,” Donovan drawled.
Sean laughed, the sound coming through his facemask a little raspy. “I never would have noticed.”
Kyle’s finger automatically moved off the trigger guard toward the trigger itself before his mind registered Sean’s voice. He knew Sean was on his way over, but instinct was impossible to break some days.
“Sniper,” Kyle said with an unapologetic shrug.
“We know,” the other two chorused.
Sean closed the distance between them, the AKR-75 assault rifle in his hands looking like it belonged there, for all that he hadn’t come to the MDF through the military. He’d been re-outfitted with new gear upon his secondment to Alpha Team turning into a permanent position.
The MDF issued top-of-the-line tactical body armor and lightweight combat uniforms made out of military-grade spider silk and nanoengineered material for increased maneuverability tailored to every metahuman’s individual power. In Sean’s case, his field uniform carried no electronics due to his power. He ended up going through more minor surgery than the rest of them after every mission to replace his bioware and embedded comms, but that never took very long.
“Who am I taking?” Sean asked.
Kyle looked over his shoulder at Donovan. “Gonna need your eyes down there.”
“I’m all yours,” Donovan replied.
Sean let go of his weapon, letting it hang down from the heavy-duty strap secured to his tactical vest. He grabbed Donovan’s left hand and Kyle’s right, because Kyle was adept at shooting with both hands.
Viper, you’ll need to keep Reaper and Tank in the loop,Sean said through the mental link.
Kyle’s HUD winked out, the tactical goggles reverting to a clear view that only happened when the nanotechnology stopped working. The strange deadness in Kyle’s ears when his comms died out from Sean’s power was overridden by the echo of Katie’s telepathic voice.
I have them,she said.
Sean’s fingers tightened around Kyle’s wrist before he pitched forward, sinking into the floor and taking them with him. Kyle had to hold his breath as they phased through the floor, but it was only a few seconds before they emerged into darkness lit by emergency blue lights jury-rigged on the stair landing.
We got electricity down here. Possible emergency backup generator,Kyle reported.
What’s it powering?Donovan wondered.
Question of the hour. Nothing good, I bet.
Do not let go of Tank and Reaper, Wraith,Katie ordered.
Understood,Sean said.
They descended three sublevels before the stairwell ended at a final landing, the door there set with charges. Kyle eyed the explosives woven across the door, rightly figuring it would take even Madison some time to defuse it. For Sean, it was a matter of phasing them through the wires and explosives, coming out unharmed on the other side.
Place down here is wired,Donovan announced.
