Chapter 23
The program fought with all his internal systems. Like a virus starting to take over, Luke felt the original programming trying to kick on inside his cyborg parts.
His HUD was flashing on and off like a strobe, so he kicked it on permanently with a few blinks.
Evidently, it was what Dumol was looking for.
“Good. You’re ready,” she said. “Kill the Novian,” she said, gesturing to Morrigan.
Luke nodded once, and the order displayed in the HUD, overlapped over her face.
Scans started to kick on, giving him the exact cellular makeup of every being there on the field.
Morrigan was bright green—target acquired.
But she wasn’t the only Novian standing there.
What the fuck was going on? What were Novians doing here?
He took a few steps toward Morrigan and he knew what he had to do.
He didn’t like it, but he was going to do it.
He got in front of Morrigan. “I can’t... I can’t stop it.”
“I know,” she replied. “Don’t do this, please. I beg you.”
That was the cue.
He raised his arm. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say softly.
Grabbed her throat.
“I...I...know.” The last of it came out like a rasp as he cut off her air supply. His grip tightened until her head jerked, and a horrible crackle filled the otherwise silent air.
Her body went limp.
She fell to the ground.
“Good,” Dumol said. She glanced around at the other officers. “Clean this up. Bury the bodies in the cemetery. Deep. No markers. Cadell, come with me.”
He nodded and followed her back to her flyer. The others were moving, as she requested, taking care of the scene. Orders were bellowed between the men as the work was started.
“Get on,” she said.
He stepped onto the small sled-like machine, barely built for two, and Dumol started the engine.
“Human First will be pleased,” she said as the flyer took off, rising high in the dome. “You did well.”
Wind whipped across him as they flew, and he vaguely wondered if this was what Morrigan would feel when she had her wings.
He blinked three times. The HUD came up.
He scanned.
There, Morrigan was moving.
This crazy plan might just work...
“On with the mission,” Dumol said.
“Yes ma’am.” He held onto the passenger handles, keeping a straight face. The next phase would likely be the assassination.
And he had to stop her before she could take out—or force him to take out—this ambassador.
Dumol soared the vehicle high. So high, the sunlight beat down on him and he could almost reach up and touch the scorching hot ceiling.
She kept fiddling with the controls as she flew toward the entrance.
He blinked three times, bringing up the HUD again, and scanned the ground. Morrigan was inundated with others, but she was holding her own.
It’s part of the plan.
Part of the—
“One more thing, though,” Dumol said. She turned the steering sharply to the right. And he saw that she’d laid the controller for his cyborg parts on the steering column.
It displayed a red warning light.
Shit...
He glanced at it. Then her.
She jerked the controls, banking the flyer at a sharp angle. The engine whined. Cadell held on, his cyborg hand a vise-grip on the handle.
Dumol twisted. The small, antique gun was back in her hand.
“What are you doing?”
She smiled. “Oh, come on. Did you ever think I’d fall for you pretending to kill her? I’m not stupid, Cadell.”
Adrenaline surged.
“Not stupid. Just trusting,” Cadell replied as he lunged forward, trying to grab her and the gun.
“Not exactly,” she said. She fired. Right into his chest.
He fell backwards.
This wasn’t part of the plan.