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“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “It’s really only flying that I’m still a little shaky with.”
“But we’re about to—”
Before Adam can finish that thought, I launch us up in the air. It’s not the most graceful takeoff. It’s a lot more forceful than necessary; but it does the trick; and soon we’re soaring above the treetops at high velocity. I remember what Five taught me—basically not to think too hard about what I’m doing and trust my instincts. That means going fast and forward. Adam’s hands grab my forearms hard, and I can hear Six laughing against my ear as the wind whips across our faces.
“This is so weird,” she says. “I feel like a ghost.”
“Let’s hope not literally,” Adam yells back.
It’s definitely strange: being invisible, flying through the sky, like we’re the breeze itself. I wish I had more time, or maybe the capacity, to appreciate this. All I can think about is what’s ahead, and soon that comes into view.
The steel-gray bulk of the scarab-shaped warship looms over Niagara Falls, casting a dark shadow on the rushing water. This warship isn’t as big as the Anubis. But it is still a frightening sight to behold.
“There’s the Loralite stone,” Six says. “That, uh, nondescript gray one down there.”
I glance to a patch of wilderness level with the start of the falls. I can’t pick out the stone from this height, but I can easily make out the crowd of Mogadorians securing the area. I can also see the three downed Skimmers that were taken out by the human Garde. More of the little ships zip through the air around the warship, patrolling the nearby woods in slow circles. I fly us closer to the warship while looking down.
“John,” Adam says as I survey the Mog patrols. “John!”
I look up just as I first hear the vibrating hum of a Skimmer’s engine. It’s practically right on top of us, the scout ship headed back to the warship. The pilot can’t see us, but he’s flying dangerously close all the same. I bank us hard to the right and narrowly avoid getting clipped by one of the Skimmer’s slender wings.
“Shit!” Six yells. Her nails scratch my neck as she almost loses her grip.
We do a barrel roll. The spinning disorients me, and for a moment we’re plummeting towards the rapids below. My fingers loosen, and Adam slips a few inches away from me. I grasp him hard under the armpits.
Gritting my teeth, I stabilize us and get myself flying straight again. Everyone’s holding on a little tighter now.
“Sorry,” I say.
“I take back any misgivings I had with your plan,” Adam says breathlessly. “If it means never flying with you again, I’ll steal a dozen warships.”
The Skimmer that shook us up leisurely flies into the docking bay of the warship, the doors left open behind it. Despite the scare, that’s perfect timing. I pick up speed, intending to get us through those doors.
As we near the warship, the force field finally becomes visible. You can’t really see it until you’re rushing right towards it. Once you’re within a hundred yards or so, the air around the warship seems to bend like heat lines rising from pavement on a hot day. I can make out a faint grid work of energy, like a net surrounding the warship, which gives off a faint red hue. It reminds me of the aura that surrounded the mountain base in West Virginia, the one that made me sick for days after I ran headlong into it.
“We’re sure this cloaking device is going to work, right?” I ask, too late, as there’s no way I’ve got the flying skill to put the brakes on now.
“Ninety-nine percent sure,” Adam replies.
We hit the force field.
And pass through it.
There’s a faint buzzing in my ears and an electric vibration in my teeth as we go through the field, but otherwise we’re fine. I glide us forward, slowing my speed so I don’t crash when we enter the Mogadorian docking bay; and seconds later we’re inside the warship, right as the Skimmer we followed touches down for a landing.
I keep us hovering for a moment so I can get the run of things. Even though Ella walked me through the Anubis, I’ve never actually been inside one of these ships. The docking bay is a huge, high-ceilinged area, with dozens of Skimmers arranged in neat rows. It seems they’ve only got a quarter of their fleet out searching Niagara Falls, and that’s a good thing for us since we need those ships stationary if we’re going to dismantle them. Besides the Skimmers, there’s not much going on here, just a lot of repair machinery, a few blaster racks and some fuel tanks.
And about fifty Mogadorians, hard at work at various tasks, including the small crew of the Skimmer we followed in here. They get out of their ship and begin refueling.
Slowly, I set us down on the deck. Adam’s sneakers squeak when they touch the metal floor, and he nearly loses his balance.
None of the Mogs notice.
Six, do you have Adam? I ask telepathically.
I feel Six’s arm tense on my shoulders as I speak in her mind. She shifts position, presumably so she can get a better grip on the Mogadorian, which isn’t exactly easy since none of us can see each other.
Got him, she thinks back after a moment.
I let go of both of them, now maintaining only my own invisibility.
I’m going to clear the room.
Do you need he—? Six thinks back, but I close off the telepathy before any more thoughts get through.
I don’t need help.
Carefully, I roll up the sleeve of my shirt. There was something I didn’t want the others to see me using, afraid of the bad feelings it might bring up. In truth, I’m kind of glad I don’t have to see it myself, still invisible as I am. It might make me wonder what I’ve become.
Shink.
I deploy Five’s forearm blade. We took it off him in New York, and I claimed it from Nine’s things this morning. It’s the perfect lethal tool for a job like this. Needle sharp and quiet.
I float across the hangar so that I don’t make any noise. There’s a panel on one side of the room with an intercom and some video screens. Communications. There are two Mogs sitting there as I approach, watching live feeds sent in from the Skimmers patrolling the falls.
I drive Five’s blade into the base of their skulls, one after the other, so quick that neither of them even notices the other’s been dusted.
I turn around. None of the Mogadorian mechanics or pilots have noticed.
I won’t let any of them get by me. I won’t let any of them call for help.
Methodically, I start to work my way through the hangar. I pick off the stragglers first, the ones who are isolated. I can float right up to them, right in front of their hideous faces, and the blade goes in easy. None of them even get a scream out. At a certain point, maybe after the tenth or the twentieth, my mind goes on autopilot. It starts to feel like I’m not even the one doing this. It’s just happening in front of me.
I’m a ghost. A vengeful ghost.
It’s quick the way I kill. Merciful. A better death than these bastards gave the people of New York or any of the millions of others th
ey’ve murdered.
Sarah.
After a few minutes, one of the Mogs shouts out a warning. It was bound to happen eventually with all the dust floating through the air, with their numbers being thinned by half. They start to search around frantically. One of them screams something in Mogadorian and falls to his knees, looking hysterical. A couple of others follow suit. I’m not sure what to make of that. Most of them make a run for the racks of blasters or for the unmanned communications array.
Blaster fire sizzles through the air from the direction of the comm panel. Blaster fire from blasters that I can’t even see. Looks like Six and Adam helped themselves, then doubled back to make sure the Mogs were cut off. Smart.
Guess I did need a little help.
It doesn’t take long for the hangar to be cleared. Unprepared and fighting against invisible opponents where they thought they’d be safe, the Mogs don’t have a chance.
When the last Mog is just a grainy film on the windshield of one of the Skimmers, I turn visible. Six and Adam quickly follow suit, both of them now holding blasters. Adam stares at me, eyes wide, maybe a little overwhelmed by the slaughter.
“Shit, John,” Six says, raising an eyebrow at my choice of weaponry. “That was pretty intense.” Six jogs over to the double doors that separate the hangar from the rest of the ship and checks to see if there are reinforcements waiting. We cut off the Mogs before they could raise an alarm, but someone passing by could’ve heard the blasters. She flashes me a thumbs-up. “All good.” I catch Adam’s eye and point to the spot where the Mog fell onto his knees. “The one who panicked. What was he saying?”
Adam swallows hard. “He said that Setrákus Ra has truly abandoned them. That their lives are ending now that Beloved Leader is dead.”
“So some of them actually believed that,” Six says.
“Oh yeah,” Adam replies. “Especially once John started going all wrath-of-god.”
“They haven’t seen anything yet,” I reply.
I open the pocket on my vest and finally let Bernie Kosar and Dust loose. They transform into their beagle and wolf forms and seem glad to be out of captivity. Dust starts to sniff around the floor, eventually making his way to the exit with Six. BK sits down next to me and licks my fingertips. If a dog could look concerned, he does. I ignore him.
