“How do we stop that?” she asks.
“By opening the gates and letting the protesters in,” I rumble. “Let’s do a flyover and see how everything looks.”
I accelerate toward Concord City, and I can’t help smiling when I see how much smoke is rising from the eyesore. I’d still love to watch the entire city burn, but I won’t order it, even though it would be easier than ever right now.
The Mobile Command Center is already being assembled outside Concord City. Orcs are on the ground, advancing toward the Presidential Palace. The human military forces have thinned out considerably. There are more choppers than troops on the ground, which tells me the military is already fracturing. Clover got through to them.
“I don’t think they see us,” Clover mutters, looking out the window as we zoom across the city.
“We’re still cloaked. Their radar can’t detect my ship.”
I finally see the Presidential Palace. It’s a white mansion surrounded by a massive wall. The masses of humans have withdrawn a short distance from the gates since the chopperslanded, but they’re not far away. I want them safe from what I’m about to do, so I’m relieved to see it. There are turrets along the wall. I’ll have to deal with those first, so I lock them in my sights.
“Once I fire on those turrets, I won’t be able to stay cloaked,” I say. “Some of those soldiers may fire on us, but don’t worry, their bullets can’t penetrate the hull.”
“Okay. I trust you,” she says nervously. Another wave of goosebumps ripples over my skin when I hear those words.
I send a message to Lord Frax’mo and order all our nearby troops to converge on the Presidential Palace. We’re here to help, so we will. President Highton is about to come face-to-face with the people he betrayed.
I fire on the turrets first. The ship uncloaks the second the missiles launch, and warning alarms sound from the palace walls. Two of the turrets explode before they can even turn toward us. The third manages to fire, peppering the side of my ship with bullets that sound like rain on a metal roof.
Clover yelps and flinches, gripping the edge of her seat.
“I tried to warn you,” I chide. “Don’t worry; they can’t get through the hull. We’re safe.”
“Good,” she whispers, still holding the seat.
The last turret locks onto us so I fire again. It erupts in a burst of flames and twisted metal, the direction of my fire again scattering most of the pieces across the courtyard below, away from the people nearby. The crowd outside the palace gates breaks into chaos. Some flee. Some scream. Some stare up at my ship like they’re trying to decide if I’m here to save them or kill them.
So, I do the only logical thing I can. I turn my ship, lower it toward the ground, and let them see us. But I’m not the one they need to see.
“Clover!” one of the protesters shouts.
“Oh god, everyone’s looking at me,” she squeaks, suddenly shy.
“If you hit that button you can speak to them,” I say, pointing to it.
The protesters closest to the gates are safe. They’re far enough back to avoid shrapnel. The ones farther out aren’t, because the military is pushing through from surrounding areas, and the orcs aren’t close enough to help yet. I scan the crowd for Clover’s parents, but I don’t see them.
“Can we open the gates?” Clover asks.
“We can,” I assure her confidently.
Clover leans forward and presses the button in front of her.
“I told you I was on my way,” she says, forcing a smile. “We’re going to open the gates, and we’ve confirmed that President Highton is inside the Presidential Palace. If you’ve got something to say to him, now is the time! Get away from the gates so King Lix-tuk can blow them open for you!” She grins and points at me. I lift my hand to the crowd.
Clover nods to me and I turn the ship. I could use a missile, but there’s a risk that the shrapnel could hit some of the protesters. I’d have to use a bigger one than I used on the turrets which would put people in danger. Plus, people aren’t staying back like they should. They realize we’re helping them and they’re cheering as they move closer.
“This might get a little bumpy, but it’s the safest way to open them,” I make my voice steady and calm and lower my docking hooks.
I accelerate toward the gate, making sure we’re high enough to avoid harming the protesters. We zoom over the gate and the hooks catch on the metal. My ship lurches to a stop in midair and the engines roar, metal grinding and screeching. I open up the accelerator and feel the gates give beneath us. A second later, there’s a loud snap as they’re torn from the ground, taking chunks of the wall with them.
“We did it!” Clover says as we accelerate toward the Presidential Palace.
“Told you we would,” I chuckle, watching as the docking hook swings the gate forward.
As soon as the gate has some momentum, I retract the docking hooks, which releases the twisted metal and concrete. The momentum sends it all flying at the Presidential Palace and it crashes through a wall, tearing a hole big enough for the protesters to storm President Highton’s residence.
