Dust to Dust - Ultimatum: Dystopian Science-Fiction by Antonis Makridakis

Author:Antonis Makridakis [Makridakis, Antonis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

TRESPASSERS

Ironside and Prodigy stood hunched over a large, unfolded map that covered the hood of their rugged vehicle, parked in an inconspicuous alleyway. The early evening light cast long shadows around them, giving their makeshift operations base an air of urgency. They were in a race against time, trying to predict Cipher’s next move in a high-stakes game of cat and mouse.

Ironside, her face etched with lines of concentration, traced her fingers along several marked routes on the map. “Cipher’s smart,” she muttered, “He knows we’ll be watching airports, train stations, even bus depots.”

Prodigy, leaning in closer, pointed to a less conspicuous route. “Back roads, maybe? It’s slower, but he’d avoid major checkpoints.”

Their eyes moved across the map, taking in the myriad of possibilities. Each city, town, and rural area represented a potential hiding place or a step towards his ultimate destination. Prodigy tapped a finger on a coastal area. “If he’s trying to leave the country, he might aim for a less guarded port. Smaller, less security.”

Ironside looked up as Lilac approached, her expression serious. “Ironside, it’s for you,” she announced. She gestured towards the mouth of the alley. “Someone’s outside waiting to talk to you.”

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity and caution, Ironside straightened up, brushing her hands on her coat. She glanced at Prodigy, signaling him to stay alert. “Keep an eye on things here,” she said in a low voice, her tone indicating the importance of staying vigilant.

As Ironside emerged from the alley, the scene in front of her instantly registered in her mind. Two figures stood in a heated argument with Hera and Jade, their body language tense and confrontational. Ironside’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the one leading the dispute.

Cabello, the taller of the two, carried an imposing figure. He stood over six feet with broad shoulders and a well-defined, muscular build. His skin was deeply tanned, weathered from countless hours in the field, and his face was adorned with a stern, angular jawline. His hair was a striking contrast – jet black, cropped short on the sides but slightly longer on top, styled in a way that added to his authoritative presence. His eyes, sharp and piercing, were a deep brown, almost black, and seemed to scrutinize everything with calculated precision.

Paulet, on the other hand, was of average height but no less imposing. Her physique was lean and toned. Her skin was a light olive tone, and her facial features were sharp, with high cheekbones and a narrow, straight nose. Her hair was auburn, cut in a bob that framed her face, and her eyes were a striking green, sharp and observant.

Both wore the standard uniform of the Immortals; sleek, tactical gear in muted tones, designed for both functionality and intimidation. The uniform was accentuated with distinct insignias and patches that marked their elite status within the IPC.

“What do you want, Cabello?” Ironside called out, her voice carrying a mix of authority and wariness. She stepped forward, positioning herself between her team and the Immortals.

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