The Edge Of Justice

The Edge Of Justice Chapter 26

“Run, you dumb bastard!” he yelled, letting me move in front of him and sprint down the hall. He was right on my tail, and we had barely made it three steps when the room behind us exploded, the blast wave and heat slamming us both to the ground.

A huge fireball filled the hall behind us, and I tried to rise from the ground, but Adder's hand on my back pushed me right back down. My ears were ringing, I couldn't see straight, and my insides felt like they were swirling around in my gut. The only thing I could hear was my pounding heart, so loud I was sure my eardrums would burst.

The heat dissipated in a flash, and Adder tried to rise, but his shaking legs dropped him right back to his knees, fumbling with his pistol which had flown from its holster. My throwing knives littered the stone floor, and I squinted, not sure if there were twenty knives or just a single one in front of me. My vision slowly began to clear and I reached toward the knives only to have my glove scrape the rough rock. I blinked rapidly, and the knives began to fall into one another, until there were only three slightly blurry pieces of metal before me. I rose to my knees and grasped them as quickly as my shaking hands would let me. Try as I might, I couldn't steady my hands enough to slide them into their holster, so I just shoved them in a pocket and rose to my feet, one hand on the wall to ensure I didn't fall again.

Adder grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him, his mouth moving soundlessly. “What?” I said, rubbing my ear.

He spoke again, and even though I could hear him slightly this time, it was muffled and unintelligible, so I just shook my head. He nodded, and started using hand signals, telling me that we had enemies on the way. A spark of fear ignited in my chest, and I wondered how I would fight without being able to hear, much less steady my hands. Sai, throwing knives, and the bo were out, as I doubted I had enough motor-control at the moment to twist my hands and fingers in the complex patters required. I resigned myself to using my ninjato, drawing them both from their sheaths. Even in my condition I vowed no one would stop me; I was making it out of there alive. Adder counted down from three with his fingers, and when the last finger dropped we both burst into a sprint, my body listing slightly to the right. My equilibrium was off, I realized, and signaled to Adder to stop. He did, and I removed my glove from my right hand, closed my nostrils and clamped my mouth tightly, then blew as hard as I could. Sound rushed back in an instant, giving me an instant headache when Stacey's frantic voice appeared mid-sentence, and very loudly. “-not answering me! Christian! Please, Christian, say something!”

I winced, bringing a hand to my now aching temple. “Dammit, Stacey, I'm right here! Quiet!”

“Oh thank god! There's something wrong with your contacts, they've went offline. We saw the explosion and then nothing, and I thought you'd died!”

“Well, I'm just fine, and I've got incoming, so if you'll excuse me?”

“There's a small problem with that,” she said. “Adder just relayed to Katrina that the felt the explosion in the mess hall, and the prisoners started chanting, saying that they're happy to give their lives. We think the rest of the mountain is wired to blow, so you need to haul ass.”

“Shit,” I sighed, and relayed the message to Adder, who simply nodded, dropped the clip from his pistol, loaded a new one, shoved the gun into its holster on his hip, and brought his MP5 to bear.

“Let's move,” I ordered, and we took off in a slow jog. We arrived a the intersection to find three men, each of them dressed in suits like mine, and we skidded to a halt. By their stances and the way they held their weapons, katanas, I knew these guys were pros, so I wasn't inclined to let Adder fight them, and told him to hang back. He nodded, and I tightened my grip on my ninjato, taking a few steps toward them. “One on one or all three of you?”

None replied, but I got my answer not even a second later when all three of them barreled toward me, steel flashing in the torchlight. I flipped my left blade into a reverse grip and met them head on, spinning and blocking as quickly as I could. All three of them were good, but I was significantly better, able to avoid their blades. The one who I guessed was the leader spun his blade in a complex flourish, and struck at my gut horizontally. Bringing my left hand around I blocked his sword with the flat of my own, and spun quickly to my right, bringing my other blade around to separate his head from his shoulders.

The strike never landed though, because in the middle of the spin a boot slammed into my back and sent me flying. I recovered mid-air and was able spin around and land in a crouch, sliding backward on the stone while my blades sparked along the ground. A rifle barked, and one of the masked men fell, the top half of his head missing. I looked to Adder, who shrugged, and I knew what was going to happen next even before it did. Both of my attackers howled in anger, and one turned toward me, while the other turned to Adder, who raised his weapon menacingly, as if to say, I have no problem shooting you too. I couldn't help him, as the one keeping me busy did just that, trading blows with me lightning quick. I fought him, while doing my best to keep an eye on the soldier.

The other man pulled two throwing knives from a holster on his hip, sending them at the Marine quickly, both flying from the man's hand in the space of two seconds. I thought the Marine was dead, but was pleasantly surprised when he spun his MP5 in his hands, deflecting the first blade, while the second struck his body armor and fell to the floor, harmless. The Spectre was on him then, swiping with the katana, and a strike that hit me in the stomach pulled me back to my own battle.

The one I was fighting was trying to push the tip of his blade into my abdomen, but the tight kevlar weave of my suit denied his sword entrance. My back was to the wall, so I arched as far as I could, pushing him and his blade back, then spun on the spot, slicing at the man's calves. He jumped to his right, my blade was blocked, but right then I saw this particular fighter's weakness, and geared up to exploit it. He swiped three times and then I feinted left, and I stepped through the open door he was about to left me. He hopped away from my blade, to his right again, bringing his own to bear, but it was too late. The tip of the sword in my left hand was waiting, and my steel slid between his ribs, puncturing his heart, which proceeded to slice itself to bits trying to pump around the sharp blade.

The Spectre groaned and fell, and I turned back to help Adder just in time to see him block a hard overhead strike with the butt of his rifle, and bring the other Spectre's blade down, turning it into a contest of strength, to see who would be able to knock the other off balance. “You fight well, mon' ami,” the Spectre grunted with a thick French accent, “but it will not be enough.”

“And you need to learn when someone else is carrying another weapon,” Adder retorted, twisting his MP5 to the side, the Frenchman following with his blade. With the speed of a western movie, Adder pulled the suppressed .22 from its holster, double-tapped him in the chest, and the Spectre went down like a ton of bricks. Another shot to the head silenced his groans, and Adder holstered the weapon once more, and shouldered his MP5. “Back to the mess?” he asked, and all I could do was nod.