“Reaper,” Jamie said over the comms. “Get your feet on the ground. Viper has cleared the area of threats.”
“Yes, sir,” Kyle replied.
He switched the safety back on before slinging the rifle over his shoulder. Then Kyle pulled the grappling device that had been issued to him off his belt. He deployed the grappling needle into the roof, watching as it split into four prongs and drilled into the cement. He gave the thin, high-tension cord a firm tug to make sure the prongs had set before hooking the support piece to his belt and pitching himself over the side of the building.
Kyle rappelled down to the ground, switching off the tech camouflage once his feet hit the sidewalk. Jamie was there to meet him, weapon in hand.
“Where’s Knight?” Kyle asked as he lifted the hood back. He dragged his tactical goggles over his eyes, priming the screen again.
“Being extracted from the council estate,” Jamie said.
The roar of a jet engine initiating vertical take-off and landing caught their attention, and they looked up in time to see the jet they’d arrived in descending. Kyle unholstered a tactical handgun from his hip and nodded at Jamie.
“Lead the way.”
Kyle followed Jamie double-time to where the Royal Legion and other UMG metahumans were keeping watch as Tariq and Samaira helped carry Liam out the front doors of a council estate. Kyle grimaced when he caught sight of Liam’s bruised, too-pale face beneath the mess of electrodes and wires from a Faraday cage that appeared inactive. The wound on his left leg had bled profusely, staining his entire pant leg.
A pair of medics ran down the jet ramp, guiding a hovergurney between them. Liam’s lips were moving, but Kyle couldn’t hear what he was saying beneath the noise from the jet. It wasn’t until Katie’s telepathic voice cut through his thoughts that Kyle realized his gut feeling was right.
Liam said the Reborn IRA members who had him were preparing to target Parliament. Considering the handful of Splice bombs they let off in Havering, the UMG thinks they’ll try the same tactic,Katie said.
Is Parliament in session?Jamie asked.
No, but there are people within the Palace of Westminster.
Have the shields been deployed?Kyle asked.
Yes. We’re scanning minds to make sure no Reborn IRA agents have made it through the defensive perimeter. The UMG wants all teams on the ground in less than five minutes.
Kyle watched as Jamie approached the hovergurney that Samaira and Tariq had laid Liam on. His husband grabbed Liam’s hand, leaning down to talk quietly in the wounded man’s ear before stepping back. The medics swiftly transported Liam onto the jet, leaving the rest of the Royal Legion on the ground.
“He’ll be okay,” Samaira said, watching as the ramp closed.
“He’s alive,” Jamie agreed. “Now let’s go make those fuckers pay.”
Samaira nodded sharply. “That’s the best plan I’ve heard in days.”
Kyle gripped the strap of his sniper rifle, ready to take out his bad mood on the enemy.
* * *
“Please tellme we have enough Reborn IRA prisoners that I can stop worrying about taking them alive?” Kyle asked as he stared through the scope of his rifle across the length of Westminster Bridge at the truck speeding their way and barreling through a police barricade.
“The safety and continuity of Parliament is a priority,” Samaira said over the comms, sounding a little breathless.
“It’s got shields,” Abigail said offhand. “The building and all those arseholes inside it are fine.”
Kyle tightened his finger on the trigger of his sniper rifle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He took the shot, hands steady as he headed off the threat careening toward the UMG metahuman teams on the ground. The guerilla-like attack on Parliament was decently coordinated, but everyone was taking out their anger on the Reborn IRA members attempting to do damage to the United Kingdom’s central government. With Katie and the other two telepaths guiding them, all the teams were picking out the enemy in the surrounding area and hunting them down.
Most chose a martyr route by way of Splice bombs strapped to suicide vests. As metahumans, Kyle and the rest of those aligned with the UMG weren’t at risk of the chemical attack. It was everyone else they needed to worry about.
The air raid sirens were still going off, the warning sound having followed them to the center of London. Police were trying to lay down quarantine zones, but everyone who had been outside when the bombs had gone off had panicked and run, making it difficult to corral the populace. Westminster Station had been locked down and the Underground had stopped trains on that line. Kyle knew it wouldn’t stop people from panicking and running through the tunnels.
Kyle scanned the field from his perch on top of Westminster Station, squinting through the scope. He’d been handling overwatch since they’d arrived on the scene, watching everyone’s six. The tech camouflage gave him extra cover in the deepening afternoon light, but he preferred spots with more cover. In a fight, you took what you could find, and as sightlines went, the station provided a good view.
Parliament was safe behind the defensive shielding that had been installed last century and upgraded every few decades. The barrier walls lining the Thames impeded his sight more than the official government building did. Westminster Bridge was an access route they mostly had under control, but they were still weeding out the last of the terrorists.
