Alien Mine Ch. 10

The blow hurt enough to distract her, and he managed to wrench his wrist away from her teeth, but now her hands were free. Grabbing the wrist with her hand, she could feel bones grinding against each other, and the man screamed as the bones crunched, but her victory was short-lived as the other man hit her nose, breaking it. Pushing up off the floor, Leslie used her free hand to go for the man's eyes. Her assailant saw it coming, but he could not match her quickness, and Leslie drove a finger into each eye and back into his brain. He shuddered as the fingers killed him before falling on her. Leslie twisted away from the remaining assailant jumping to her feet.

"You bitch, I'll kill you for that," he said, reaching for a weapon.

Leslie started to move in to finish him off when she heard gunfire and felt a bullet hit her leg. She screamed in surprise and dived behind another vehicle. This time grabbing her own weapon. Leslie's leg stung, but otherwise, she wasn't hurt. The anti-ballistic weave Thea had added to her clothes actually worked. Wiping the blood running down her face from the broken nose, she slithered under the car. She could see men getting out of another vehicle, at least four of them, she guessed but armed this time.

She fired four quick shots at the legs and heard at least one of them scream, and the rest ran or took cover. Automatic fire lashed the car, and she rolled quickly away, smelling gas. She kept moving under the next car and then up behind a third. Risking a look, she saw one man down, but there were at least three with automatic weapons judging by the fire aimed at her. She moved fast, bent over, dodging between cars running for the other entrance. She could hear them shouting orders at each other and staggered when another round hit her squarely in the back. It stung badly, but there was no blood. Thank god for alien clothes.

Leslie ran toward the exit keeping low; they would have to come after, or she would be out of the parking garage and on the street. She squirmed under another car lying close to the rear wheel. There was no movement for a minute, but then an ankle stuck out from behind a vehicle. Taking aim, she put a bullet through the exposed part. She heard a scream, and the man's head appeared for a second, crying with pain as the bullet had almost ripped off his foot. Leslie calmly put him out of his misery with a shot to the head and then rolled back as more automatic gunfire ripped through the area she had just been. A ricochet hit her hand, and she cursed as the gun fell to the ground, her hand numb and bleeding. Gunfire continued to rake her position, so she abandoned it and ran for the exit.

Holding her injured hand across her chest, she took a chance and slipped around the wall and was outside on the street. It was dark, and Leslie took off running, wanting to put distance between her and whoever was trying to kill her. She ran along the wall, turned left around the building running hard, and saw the iron pipe coming just in time to duck. Kicking out with her left foot, Leslie connected with a knee just like Kiania had taught her. He went down with a grunt but bounced back up with a knife, swiping it at her as she tried for another kick. The blade sliced her arm, but the lunge missed. Leslie dodged to the left and then spun, connecting with his knee again. Kiania had kept emphasizing that you have to kick through the knee to do severe damage, and this time, there was a sickening crunch and a scream as she did just that.

The assailant fell to the ground, and she took a 9 mm pistol from his waist as he grabbed his broken knee in anguish. A kick to his head, and she was running again, aware of pursuit. Blood ran down her arm, and she could hear footsteps behind her and the screeching of wheels in front; darting to the right, she charged down an alleyway. A bullet struck the wall beside her, and she turned, going down to a squat returning fire, sending three rounds back down the alley hearing the thunk as one of them hit.

Leslie turned and ran to the end of the alleyway turning right again into a wider street, and saw three of them waiting for her. There was a small dinner to the left, and she was inside just as gunfire hit. One hit her leg, knocking it from under her, and Leslie fell to the floor between tables rolling to get some cover. The people in the dinner screamed, running to get out of the way, as the first assailant slammed through the door. His head exploded as she shot him from her back on the floor, but the gun she had picked up jammed as the second and third assailant came in close behind. Leslie sprang to her feet, trying to get out the back, but they were on her too quick. A blow knocked her head against a table leg, and she kicked out, hearing a scream.

No time for satisfaction as the other one was on her, his weight pressing her down as his hands went around her throat. She went for the eyes again but felt other hands grabbing hers, and a kick landed between her ribs. More blows began to come down, but she managed to wrench her hands free for just a second. Finding the button on the bracelet, she mashed it as another blow to the side of the head dazed her. She squirmed, trying to get out from under when another kick to her head took most of the fight out of her. She tried to struggle but was sliding quickly into unconsciousness. Her last coherent thought was that she hoped the 'come save me button' did its job.

Sandy was killing time waiting on Leslie as she wandered around the townhouse, sometimes admiring and other times aghast at the interior design. Walking across a Russian carpet, her heels sinking deep into the rug, she stopped to look at a large painting on the wall. It was probably an expensive piece of art, and her Bob could have told her everything about it, but Sandy didn't want to know. It was a domestic scene, a period piece from the 1800's she guessed. Nearby was an equally large canvas, this one with two naked women sprawled obscenely on a large bed. Shaking her head, she sympathized with Leslie's dislike of the décor. They would be doing the man a favor by stripping the apartment and redecorating it.

"Vodka anyone," Kiania asked, coming out from behind a large bar in a sunken area, holding a bottle of Russian vodka in each hand. Unlike Sandy, Kiania wore clothes that Amancia described as combat elegant. Amancia had designed them, dark blue fatigue-like trousers with lots of pockets that were bulletproof, of course. There was also a long sleeve blouse also lined with anti-ballistic weave but with a hood. The hood could be pulled up, covering most of the head and face, and would become rigid if needed. She was a walking arsenal as well. Two pistols, small hand grenades, numerous knives, and one of Thea's new compact rifles was attached to her back. A complement of small drones rounded the combat attire.

Thea was dressed similarly but with fewer weapons; Amancia was wearing a dress that came down to her knees with heels, a shoulder holster like Sandy, and nothing else. Rhys was dressed in a form-fitting suit and looked good enough to eat, Kiania thought. No weapons were visible, but he was heavily armed like her.

"Any Bourbon?" Rhys asked.

"No, some expensive looking scotch, cognac, and vodka, lots of vodkas."

"No thanks, I'll pass."

Sandy, Amancia, and Thea shook their heads no. Kiania put the bottles on the bar and found two shot glasses. She poured vodka into each, deciding to taste both. She did not have much experience with Russian vodka; she still enjoyed cachaça, the drink from Brazil that she was most familiar with. Turning, she toasted the others with two fists, downed one, waited for a second, and then downed the other.

She took a deep breath following the second one. "That one was rough," she said with a cough as the vodka burned all the way down before exploding in her stomach. Bob immediately processed the alcohol before it ever got into her bloodstream. "So where's our CIA agent," she asked, checking the location of the vehicle they had given (insisted) she used. Frowning, Kiania saw it was in the parking lot. She checked the security cameras,' and her eyes widened. "Leslie was attacked in the parking lot by three men; she escaped and is running," Kiania said while moving to the stair they had installed that led to the roof.

"The shuttle Sandy," Rhys said, following close on Kiania's heels, the others following behind.

"We need to get to the shuttle," Sandy said out loud for Thea's benefit, who looked confused. "Leslie had been attacked; we are going to get her," she added, taking Thea's hand and half dragging her up the stairs, through the hole in the ceiling, and onto the roof of the building.

They were airborne in seconds. "Shit," Rhys swore as he received Leslie's emergency signal. "Into armor everyone," he added as he joined Sandy in the Ships AI, sensor information pouring into his mind. They first checked for attacks on the shuttle, but the surrounding area was clear of any identifiable threats. Then they looked for Leslie; her emergency signal was still active.

"There," Sandy said, mentally pointing out the location on a map of the surrounding area. A visual image sprang up; they could see a limp form being loaded into a van.

"On it," Sandy said as the van began to move, and she pulled the shuttle higher into the air to keep it in view.

"What the fuck," Rhys exclaimed as the signal just disappeared. Not only did they lose the signal, but the van had disappeared from the shuttle's sensors.

"Active jamming of some kind," Thea said, "they are completely gone."

"Require, damn it," he said.

Sandy shook her head. They have blocked all our sensors. We know the direction they were going, but they could have turned anywhere.

Rhys was furious with himself thinking about what had happened. This was his fault; he had felt sure the Om would strike back; he just didn't expect it would be this soon or at Leslie. He should have guessed, taken precautions. Anxiously Rhys watched as they searched the area, the AI driving the predictions. Still, there was really no way of knowing.

"We are not picking up anything; how could they just vanish like that," Sandy asked, the anger evident in her voice.

"Has to be the Om; they are the only ones who could jam us," Kiania said grimly.

"They want a prisoner, Bob; what will happen if they get her, will the symbiont suicide?" Sandy asked

"Yes, it is mature enough now."

"We have to get her back," Thea said, fear in her voice. She had grown close to Leslie, closer than she realized and the thought of losing her cut like a knife. She looked at Rhys, but his back was turned, and he seemed to be concentrating.

Leslie woke up feeling hands on her, roughly removing her clothes. Groggy, hands tied to something above her, she struggled and was slapped hard for her efforts.

"Hold still, you stupid bitch," someone said. She screamed as she felt her panties ripped off of her, trying to kick out, but her legs were restrained as well. She felt another slap and then one to her breasts. Then fingers turning her head toward a face. It was angry, the eyes cold, but there was a look of anticipation. You are going to pay for what you did today he spat at her. Unfortunately, we have to turn you over alive, but we can have some fun with you until then.

She pulled on the restraints, but they were a heavy chain, her wrists manacled. Leslie tried to bite him as she had done the other, but he was ready, and a fist slammed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. More blows fell, stomach, breasts, legs. She screamed as someone rammed something into her pussy, violating her in the worst possible way, or so she thought. It was pulled out and then thrust brutally into her ass. She screamed again and heard laughter, but then something shifted inside; her emotions dulled. She could hear a belt being undone as one of them opened his zipper pulling out a hardened cock.

"Get that out of the way; I am going to fuck her," someone said.

The object was removed from her ass, and the man climbed on her. She felt a cock at her entrance, and he shoved hard pushing inside her, but Leslie made herself feel nothing. He wanted her to scream and was angry at her silence. "Hand me the belt, " her rapist said. Taking it, he slowly wrapped it around his hand and then struck her hard across her breasts. Leslie jerked at the pain but stifled the cry. The man grinned, and she heard laughter from the others; they knew she had felt that. There was a blow each time he thrust himself into her, Leslie's sensitive nipples bearing the brunt of the violence. It only lasted minutes but seemed forever to her. The man groaned as he finished inside of her.

"Come on, get off of her," she heard another voice say, my turn. She wondered how many there were.

Rhys concentrated inward using the part of his connection with Bob that let him sense emotions. Fear for Leslie was the overriding concern, anxiety, and Anger. Blocking those from his mind, he searched for something from Leslie. It would be weaker, but perhaps the immature symbiont would respond. There! he thought, seeing a faint color in his mind, quickly tracing it he realized it was Thea. Fuck! But if he could feel Thea, he should be able to sense Leslie. "Come on, Bob, God Damn it, where is it." He stained, reaching out with his mind, Bob, reaching for the symbiont even if it was still in its infancy.

There!, Bob said, mentally pointing at a faint black line, almost invisible. Rhys sensed the tendril, barely there, but it was almost like a smell, something far away and hard to identify but definitely there. Anger burned as he connected and sensed Leslie's pain and fear, faint as they were. "Fly this search pattern," he ordered brusquely, "do it quickly." The shuttle rushed over the city, Rhys adjusting the search as the mental signal became fainter or stronger. He began to sense Leslie's emotions more intensely, fear, anger, disgust, and pain. Rhys felt an icy rage, they would kill whoever was responsible for this, but care was needed; the Om could be waiting.

"There," he said intensely as the shuttle came to a halt.

Thea had worked furiously, not linked like the others, but she could still use the AI. The problem was they were tracking the jamming, but it was broad, not just a specific area. Slowly the jamming was resolved, minutes, but it seemed like hours. There she said, sending a location. It matched the location Rhys had determined. "I haven't broken the jamming, but that's where it is coming from." The shuttle was over some run-down industrial buildings, a warehouse that the signal seemed to be coming from.

"How do you want to do this?" Sandy asked.

"From the roof, use the disrupter to give us a hole; we will drop down immediately afterward before they have a chance to react."

Sandy mentally nodded and finished getting into her armor. "Thea, armor," she ordered.

Thea felt a strange thrill at the order, and she immediately leaped to obey. "Yes, Mam," she said.

Rhys and Kiania would drop down first; Thea and Sandy would follow, then Amancia. Thea wasn't integrated into the tac grid yet but was carrying a heavier weapon. It was her latest design, tripod-mounted; more of a cannon than a rifle. It was designed to lay down heavy fire to take out the Trangrods, or even something worse.

"Ready?" Rhys asked.

Everyone nodded.

"Let's go make these fuckers pay," Sandy yelled. She was close enough to feel Leslie's emotions now, and she could guess what was happening.

Rhys and Kiania jumped together from the shuttle through the new hole in the roof. Sandy followed, supporting Thea and then Amancia. A quick glance and Rhys had targets assigned, and the killing began.

The second man finished inside her and pulled away. Leslie heard others talking but tried to keep her mind blank, remove herself from what was happening. A warmth suddenly flowed through her mind, and the fear and pain receded to almost nothing. It felt like a mental hug, and only two people could do that to her. Rhys, she thought, Sandy! The fear evaporated, leaving room for anger, defiance, even as another man was climbing onto her. "You asshole," she said calmly, "you are about to die." He just laughed and slapped her. "No, you are bitch," he said, "but not until we are done fucking you."

"They are here," she heard someone else say with fear in his voice.

"Don't worry, we have the goods, let's get paid and get out of here," said another, the leader she guessed. The man on top of her cursed and reached for his zipper when he was thrown violently off, his body jerking as high-velocity rounds tore him apart. His head exploded, showering Leslie with blood and brains, but she somehow remained calm.

More quiet gunfire as men around her dropped and jerked like puppets on a string. One had a hole in his chest the size of a baseball, another lost an arm and screamed as blood flowed, painting the floor. Another tried to run but only made it a few steps before a large hole in his back appeared, and he was thrown violently across the floor. In a few seconds, no one was left alive except Leslie, and raising her head, she could see armored forms, large rifles in their hands, moving toward her quickly.

One ran to her side while the others spread out, taking up positions around her. Amancia, she realized, seeing the face through an armored visor. Amancia grasped the chains and just ripped them off, not bothering to find a key. Leslie started to get up, manacles dangling from her arms and legs but was grabbed and pressed to the floor. "Down," Amancia whispered, "there is something else here."

As they dropped down into the warehouse, Rhys could sense something in the distance, something he hadn't felt before. It was a menacing feeling, like a smell that clogs your throat and makes you gag. Something had come in the warehouse at the same time they did, and it was still there. He saw Amancia free Leslie and pull her to the floor, but his attention was on the back corner. "Thea, set up to cover us; something else is here," He said grimly. At the same time, he gave directions to the others, the tac grid coming alive in their minds, the large warehouse detailed and showing a dark object in the far corner.

Rhys couldn't see what it was, just that it was something darker, as if it was sucking in all light. Everyone was still, behind the cover provided by old containers and equipment scattered about. Rhys felt the girls shift into a combat mode, time slowing as senses accelerated. It was as if something in them came alive, the symbiont, of course, something designed to fight, a weapon developed millennia ago to fight this enemy.

Three Trangrod burst from the darkness, firing as they moved. Rhys designated targets letting Sandy, Amancia, and Kiania engage them. "Thea, focus on the back corner, the darkness, leave the Trangrods to them." Rhys kept his focus on the back, the area with no light. Something was there, looming in the darkness, waiting like a dark terror.

Kiania was behind cover, some piece of forgotten equipment. She noted the assigned target from Rhys and let her arms-computer do the work sending a hail of super velocity rounds into one of the Trangrods. The new rounds were effective, penetrating the armor and finding the brains of the machine, and blew it apart.

Amancia and Sandy engaged another, firing as soon as it moved; a stream of rounds blew off two legs causing the Trangrod to lurch to one side drunkenly. Amancia finished it off with two grenades before diving back behind a large box and covering Leslie with her body.

Seeing only one target remaining on the tac grid, Kiania shifted to acquire it but quickly ducked back as automatic fire raked her position. The rounds were pinging off the heavy machinery she was covering behind. Sandy fired, and Kiania popped back up, launching grenades, but the Trangrod was moving too fast. It passed behind a container, then darted out firing before moving again to different cover. This one wasn't attacking blindly; they would have to dig it out. Kiania coordinated the attack, using Sandy and Amancia to push it her way. Their new armor was effective against the weapon the Trangrod was using. They slowly worked it toward a small area clear of large obstructions where they could kill it.