Blood on Megiddo by David Archer

Author:David Archer [Banner, Blake & Archer, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Getting a four hundred pound man to move quickly is not easy. Getting him to scramble quickly into a car is nearly impossible. When you add a drone hooked up to a couple of adapted assault rifles carrying somewhere in the region of two hundred and fifty rounds of ammunition into the equation, and that drone starts strafing the area, raising six-foot columns of dirt and blacktop, shattering windshields and sending cops and paramedics scrambling for cover—then you have a problem.

I collided with him, screaming, “Get in the damned Bentley!”

I staggered back, but all he did was scowl at me. Martin had scrambled into the car unbidden, but I noted he was holding his laptop. Now Nero and I were the only two people standing, and the damned drone was banking to come in for another run. I could hear people screaming.

I pointed at the car. “It’s bulletproof. Get inside it!”

He didn’t crouch or bend or duck. This towering genius didn’t do a single thing that was smart. He strode fearlessly toward the open door of the car. I could hear the insane buzzing of the drone in my ears above the screaming voices. I hurled myself at the man-mountain one more time as geysers of dirt spewed from the ground around me and burning pellets of molten led popped in the air around my head. I collided with Nero and heard a grunt, then another, as with a burst of superhuman strength, I forced him through the door and onto the seat.

I turned, looking for Gallin. I found her by the van. She had an HK assault rifle at her shoulder, and she was very calmly following the trajectory of the drone in the air.

I sprinted to the ambulance, grabbed the gurney from the back, and wrenched it out, screaming at the paramedics, “Get that son of a bitch on the gurney! We’re covered! Move! Move!”

They grabbed the driver and pulled him from the van onto the gurney. It was a run of no more than fifteen or twenty feet to the back of the ambulance, and as we ran, Gallin’s assault rifle began to stutter, triple tapping at the incoming drone. The drone opened up too, spraying the ambulance and the ground around it. We rammed the gurney in and slammed the doors. I bellowed at them, “Go! I’ll follow in the Bentley! Go!”

I ran for the car, kicked Nero’s door shut, and scrambled behind the wheel. Gallin jumped in beside me, and we took off in a shower of dirt behind the wailing ambulance. Two cop cars took off behind us. I glanced at Gallin, who was grinning, craning around to look out of the windows.

“I got the bastard,” she said.

“You hit it?”

“Yeah. Do you know how hard it is to shoot a drone driven by artificial intelligence? I am good, dude. Real good.” After a moment, she added, “But there might be another one.”

Martin’s voice came from the back. “Guys…”

Gallin ignored him. “Whoever it is we’re up against is using a lot of AI.

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