Chapter 87 - The Kinetic Veil
Before the recording could complete its final playback, the cavern rocked with catastrophic violence. Dust and jagged fragments of concrete rained down from the ceiling as a thunderous boom penetrated three miles of solid rock.
"Report!" David yelled, bracing himself against the steel handrail as the catwalk swayed dangerously.
"They’ve breached the surface ice!" the communications officer screamed, frantically adjusting his tactical console. "The entity above... it’s not using explosives! It’s dropping kinetic tungsten-carbide rods from low orbit! The kinetic impact just vaporized our Osprey transports on the surface! The shockwave is collapsing the primary intake shafts!"
"They’re trying to bury us alive before we can bring the core online," Hayes said through gritted teeth, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead where a falling bolt had struck him. "How long does the ignition cycle take?"
David sprang down the spiral staircase toward the central control dais. "The system is in warm standby, but the magnetic containment rings are locked in transport mode. We have to manually release the safety dampeners from three separate terminals across the catwalk."
"We’ve got company!" a Vanguard operator shouted from the rear perimeter.
David looked back toward the tunnel they had just traversed. The titanium blast doors at the top of the complex had not held. But what was descending through the shattered breach was not an alien army.
Emerging from the dust were tactical operators clad in matte-black, non-reflective combat armor, their helmets equipped with quad-lens night vision. Across their chest plates was the familiar crest of the Blackwood Syndicate—the private military contractor Eleanor Vance had bankrolled with billions in stolen government funds.
Leading them down the catwalk was a figure David recognized even through the smoke and flashing strobe of the emergency alarms.
It was Vance.
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His younger brother had shed his pristine dress uniform for heavily armored tactical gear. His face was pale, his eyes wide and bloodshot, burning with a frantic, desperate madness. In his right hand, he carried an automatic assault carbine, and behind him stood twenty heavily armed Syndicate mercenaries.
"David!" Vance's voice echoed across the cavern over the sound of the pulsing plasma engine. "Step away from that console! Step away, or we cut down every man you brought down here!"
