Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1) by Mariana Morgan (essential reading txt) 📕

slow breaths. The nano-armour felt unnatural around her body, tougher and heavier than the n-suits she had spent half of her life in. It had moulded around her naked body with similar efficacy, but the smoothness of the interface wasn’t there. Not to mention, the armour was beginning to chafe in a few places, and Eloise regretted not insisting on a soft underlayer. Just another VRP, Eloise. Just another VRP. You own them.

‘We’re in.’ Ingram’s voice brought Eloise back to reality. The lock on the back door clicked open and six shadows slipped inside.

‘No visible cams, they must be blending in,’ Palmeiro remarked, his flashlight sweeping the upper corners. The corridors were just as unremarkable as anyone could imagine, plain and sterile grey. ‘Are we sure the lucky bastards on night watch in the security centre can’t see us?’

‘Internal and external security cams are playing a recorded loop,’ Tilly confirmed.

‘Sergeant Atkins, secure the door,’ Ingram ordered.

***

‘Paradox, this is Phantom,’ Rivas said a couple of minutes later, his voice ringing with urgency.

‘Go ahead.’

‘There are two transport shuttles heading our way. Origin west-southwest. ETA about five minutes at their current speed. Tonnage estimate for thirty-plus troops or two and a half tonnes of cargo each.’

‘Supply run?’ Ingram asked.

‘Unlikely,’ Rivas replied instantly. ‘My sensors are still gathering data, but they are travelling directly through the storm we skirted on the way down, with what must be almost zero visibility. My computer estimates abnormal weight-to-size ratios.’

‘Heavy armour and guns,’ Gonzalez concluded. ‘And high-spec aircraft, to be that oblivious to the storm.’

‘Or desperate to save time,’ Ingram added.

‘Both would be my guess,’ Rivas said. ‘Sending raw data and my comp’s analysis now.’

‘Apologies for the interruption,’ Tilly chipped in. ‘I just intercepted a message between Olympus and the incoming aircraft.’

‘Play it!’ Gonzalez demanded, and barely a second later his face twisted in a grimace.

—Olympus control, this is Bragnor. Reinforcements are on their way…

‘What do you want to do, sir?’ Ingram asked on a personal channel, so only Gonzalez heard her. ‘Rivas should have no trouble forcing one of the shuttles to land, armour or no armour. The confusion could buy us a few more minutes. My recommendation is to continue in fast. Have Tilly lock the doors to keep security away. Drop the stealth if necessary.’

Gonzalez nodded, his attention on his wrist-comp, now attached to his armour. Could they risk shooting at a shuttle without confirmation of what or who was aboard? Those reinforcements could technically mean anything…

‘Do you think Rivas can disable one of their engines, forcing them to land without killing anyone?’ he asked.

‘Sir, no one can guarantee that. It will be a tricky landing in the mountains, but if the pilot is confident enough to fly through the storm, they certainly have a chance.’ Gonzalez looked at Ingram as her cold voice registered. She seemed to have no doubt the aircraft was bringing troops loyal to Wagner and Francesca Harper.

‘You think they already know we are here?’

‘I think they knew we were coming. We just got here sooner than their reinforcements did.’

Another split second to make a decision.

‘Do it!’ Gonzalez ordered, trusting Ingram’s judgement. No civilian shuttle would press into a storm on a whim to save a few minutes of flight time. Whoever Bragnor and his men were, they were not innocent civilians or friendlies.

Having left Ingram to act on her finely honed instincts, he focused his attention on Eloise. This wasn’t supposed to be an actual combat situation. Just because the Elite woman could hold her own in a basic combat sim in VR, it didn’t mean she could handle herself for real when bullets started flying. Regardless of what she would like to think herself.

But even if her combat skills were raw and untrained, there was nothing wrong with her brain. At least, not until panic dulled it. She realised instantly what the two armoured, high-spec shuttles meant, and a pair of wide-open eyes looked back at him. Just another VRP, Eloise. Just another VRP. You own them.

‘Stay close and do as you are told,’ Gonzalez instructed.

Eloise opened her mouth to answer, but she never got the chance.

‘Move it!’ Ingram barked.

Doors with mechanical locks could be opened and closed by Tilly, but some had only old-fashioned handles. As they advanced, they quickly jammed them with little pockets of nano-glue, which seeped inside the springs, freezing the simple mechanisms solid. It wouldn’t hold forever, but a few minutes was all they needed. Palmeiro took care of the doors on the left side, while Sergeant Atkins handled the ones on the right. Ingram took the lead, with Gonzalez and Eloise in the middle and Sergeant Kizenberg bringing up the rear. They advanced efficiently, Tilly guiding them.

‘Turn left,’ Tilly instructed as Ingram approached another intersection. ‘The research lab is nine metres dead ahead. Cam feed shows it is empty.’

What a shame Tilly can break door locks so easily. I almost miss the old-fashioned sensation of a boot heel under the lock. Ingram suppressed a most inappropriate giggle as she pressed forwards. With the armour’s reinforcement to the human skeletal structure, that used to be one hell of a satisfying thump.

The lab was indeed empty, bathed in the blue glow of an emergency light. Without waiting for a prompt, Eloise made a beeline for the main computer, and her fingers flashed across the holo-keyboard. This she understood.

‘Doors secured,’ Palmeiro reported, referring to the other two exits out of the lab, which received a double dose of the nano-glue, one into the handle and the second into the hinges. Still not unbreakable, but any attempt would be plenty loud to give them sufficient warning. Even so, he stayed right by one of the doors while Sergeant Kizenberg covered the other.

‘Tilly!’ Eloise snapped. ‘Release the spider-crawls.’

Getting into the network from an unsecured computer that was already inside that network was child’s play, and Eloise grinned at the vast expanse of information in front of her. The transfer would be substantially faster than when they copied Wagner’s