The Blackhawk’s side panel slammed shut with a hiss. Inside, the cabin rattled softly as the rotor above spun and the blades whined into motion. Beau sat across from Tessa on the bench, both of them were sheathed head to toe in their new black P-1 armor—glossy, tightly molded, but untested in real combat. It was a little harder to maneuver than Beau preferred, but he felt protected.

  He checked it three times. Every seam of their armor was sealed tight. Every pouch was packed. A Vindicator rifle lay strapped to their backs. Beau and Tessa each stuffed six spare magazines into their pouches. Once they secured their harnesses, they were ready for war.

  “We’re mission ready,” Tessa said. “This might be our only chance to hit the mantids where it hurts. Are you okay with this?”

  “If these bombs do what you said, it could clear the path for our escape. Those mantids deserve to burn for what they did to our soldiers. All I’ve been thinking about is revenge. I’m ready, Tessa.”

  Between them, on the floor of the helicopter, sat the incendiary payload.

  There were six matte-black canisters in total—each the size of a two liter of soda, but deadly beyond comprehension. They were stacked in two separate metal frames and strapped to the floor with heavy ties. Their labels were handwritten by Dr. Lorne herself. CAUTION — NEUROCHEMICAL COMPOUND. They could smell it, even through the armor’s filters. It was bitter and metallic.

  Inside the pilot’s seat, Rick Paul flicked switches overhead. “Strap in.”

  “You got it, ace!” Tessa said.

  The rotors roared. The chopper lifted. The ground fell away. The runway shrank beneath them and the hangar faded into the distance. They rose, tilted, and banked hard.

  Ahead loomed the rift in the dome. The gate leading outside the dome had been modified—it was much larger and allowed for enough space for their helicopter to soar straight through it. Seconds later, they soared into the darkness of the compound and toward their mission target.

  Behind them, the dome’s gate sealed with a click.

  The light changed instantly. Inside the dome, there had been order and regulation. Outside those walls, in the mansion’s vast emptiness, the world was warped.

  As they flew, the searchlight mounted on the chopper’s nose flicked on. A cone of light blasted down, highlighting their path. They flew down corridors until finally reaching the atrium where Beau’s electric tunnel trap had failed. Mantid bodies still lay scattered and fried around the atrium. The acrid burning smell found its way up to the helicopter, even as they flew high, leveled with the molding around the top of the walls.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “There it is!” Rick said, from the front. “I see the fortress. Orders?”

  “Now or never,” Tessa said.

  “Mission is a go!” Beau said. “We end this, today!”

  Beau tilted his head up and looked past Rick. The mantid corridor lay ahead, dark and throbbing with movement inside their fortress.

  The helicopter tilted forward and they flew toward their target. But seconds later, the first mantid soldier’s buzzing wings could be heard and it slammed against the helicopter’s hull causing the helicopter to shake violently. Beau aimed his Vindicator out the cabin window and intended to fire, but the mantid was already gone. A second mantid smacked against the cockpit. The helicopter lurched and yanked Beau and Tessa hard in their seats.

  Rick pulled the stick left. He rotated the chopper in a sickening spiral.

  Tessa aimed her Vindicator out of the firing slot of the cabin door beside her. Her visor reflected the green flash of motion from more pursuing mantids. She fired, fully automatic. Slugs zipped through the air and impaled the mantids who flailed and tumbled down into the shadows.

  Beau braced against the opposite side. He chose a firing slot and sighted down his rifle. “They’re swarming us! We have to hurry!”

  Two more mantids flew in for an attack. Beau fired three rounds. Pop-pop-pop. One slug struck the mantid. One missed. The third slug penetrated the soft spot beneath a wing. The insect buckled and fell.

  “Tighten up!” Rick called over the comms. “We’re seconds out! Hold on!” Rick banked the helicopter and continued toward the fortress.

  Outside the cockpit window, they saw it—hundreds of them crawling on the corridor tile, on the sickening green spires, amongst the green goopy mess they called a fortress. They climbed on hatcheries and screeched up at them.

  Beau’s chest tightened. He looked down at the black canisters sitting between them.

  Tessa looked, too. “Do you wonder if this is…too much?”

  Beau glanced at her, confused.

  “The bombs,” she said. “I know it’s the plan. I know my mother made them. I just…” She ran a gloved hand over the smooth curve of the canister. “This isn’t a battle. It’s a purge. I’m wondering if we’re doing the right thing.”

  Beau leaned back, helmet creaking. “You saw what they did to us. The mantids are pure monsters. Do you think General Karakis would hesitate to use a weapon like this on the dome if he had the chance?”

  “No.”

  “He’d tear us apart. He’d bomb us to oblivion if he could. Thankfully, we’re smarter than the bugs.”

  She nodded.

  “We didn’t ask for this war,” Beau said, voice low. “But we’re in it. And if we let them hold the exit with this fortress, we’ll never leave Dr. Gerben’s mansion. We’ll be stuck in here and we’ll die in here by these stinking bugs. So, yeah. I say we drop the bug bombs and let them have it.”

  Tessa nodded slowly, but her hands trembled. “Freedom isn’t free.”

  Outside, the mantid stronghold lay scattered under them. They didn’t say anything else. The Blackhawk hovered high above. Beau grabbed the first bomb. Tessa grabbed the second.

  Rick held his fingers up. “Hold for my signal! I’m aligning us over the center of the fortress for maximum casualties. Prepare to drop the bombs on my signal!”