How interesting.

"You've been a naughty little sociopath," he said "Poo." She looked up at the camera drone, batting around the ceiling like a confused fly. "McDermott, in case you didn't figure it out, kill these motherfuckers!"

64.

MCDERMOTT.

McDermott had problems of his own. Currently he was watching his men being decimated by a six-foot-long grease stain.

Three minutes before, Marco lost the feed to the house. McDermott paced the cement floor while the tech and his pet AI nailed down the problem. When the screen finally flared back to life, his blood ran cold. A man he thought he'd killed several times was in the process of turning Nicole's all-important remote control into a doorstop.

"Intruder alert! Carriage house!" he screamed in his link, but there was no response. Then the lights flickered. He hauled Marco out of his chair. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I-I don't know!" Marco stammered. "My systems are going haywire! I think the AI just crashed!"

McDermott pulled his pistol and turned the incompetent technician into two hundred pounds of rare roast beef. The other techs, a man and a woman, screamed in unison. He kicked at the man-shaped charcoal briquette, cursing, then realized something. The flesh stunk worse than it should have. Which meant the oxygen scrubbers were offline. He'd have to evacuate the bunker before the air ran out.

God damn it! Things were going to shit fast.

Somewhere on the news feed in the background, Maya and Kinner were explaining that the President had cut short his address and left the platform. An explanation was apparently to be forthcoming.

McDermott's breath stopped short upon hearing that. "I'm going to the carriage house. I want these systems up in five minutes. And I want another way to activate the wasps."

The male tech paled behind his Coke bottle glasses. "There is no other way! That was the whole point!"

McDermott pressed his weapon under the man's chin. The tech screamed as his goatee was singed by the hot muzzle.

"If I can't control those wasps in ten minutes, you're dead. Is that clear enough?"

Then his two guards started firing at the door, and he whirled to confront a sight that made his mind hiccup and his insides turn to liquid.

65.

NICOLE.

"You really think there's only one way to launch the attack?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You're a control freak, Nicole," said Donner. "It finally bit you in the ass."

"Such language," she purred. She coughed to cover the click as she flicked open the metal clasps on the harnesses under her blouse. If she triggered the knives now, they'd fire as projectiles.

Donner turned to Max. "Sit rep?"

"The Lifetaker has engaged McDermott in the bunker. I'm hearing weapons fire."

"That'll do them a lot of good," said Maggie.

Elise said, "What now?"

Elise, the traitor. She'd been an idiot to let her live.

"Yeah," Maggie repeated, looking between Elise and Donner. "What now?" The question carried multiple meanings, deeper inquiries.

Donner's features were an unreadable mask. "Now we get the hell out of here."

"W-we?" Elise's eyes were saucers.

He reddened, like she'd misinterpreted him. "This isn't charity, Elise. You were part of this. We'll do what we can, but it'll be up to the authorities what happens to you."

"Damn, that's cold," said Nicole. "This is what you left me for?"

Elise slowly nodded at Donner.

"Oh, don't look so stricken," said Nicole. "Prison's so much more fun when you're young."

Elise stared at the carpet as though inertia was the only thing keeping her on her feet. Nicole could read her mind. How'd I get here? she was thinking. How'd I get to this place?

Max to Donner: "You're not planning to leave this witch alive, are you?" Meaning her.

"That was the deal with Struldbrug."

"What deal?"

"In exchange for his help, I said I wouldn't kill her. Unless I had to."

"Dear old dad," sighed Nicole. "Makes me all misty." She blinked twice in rapid succession to bring the targeting system in her veil online.

"She killed you! Twice! She'll kill us all if she gets the chance."

"Her squad and her comm systems are down. By the time she gets back to her people in Necropolis, we'll be safely ensconced at Arg-e Bam and the Conch and the President both will have the story. There's a big world out there that ain't gonna be thrilled she played it for a sucker."

Then, out of the blue, Donner's smile dropped from his face like he'd been sucker-punched. For a moment, she thought he'd decided to break his promise to Daddy and kill her. Then he rocked on his feet and raised his hand against his forehead, looking gray. "Whoa," he stammered.

"What's wrong?" said Maggie.

"The Workahol," he said. "It just cut out."

"Shit," said the smarty, grabbing his arm. "Your reborn system metabolized it faster than normal."

"Poor angel," said Nicole. "That's gotta hurt."

And fired.

66.

MCDERMOTT.

T>he Lifetaker reacted before the eye could blink, dematerializing enough to let the energy pulses pass right through it. It wrapped one of McDermott's men into itself like a shroud, suffocating him while it continued to fight the other two.

McDermott and the techs backed up against the dead environmental controls.

They all heard the second guard's spine snap. The female tech fainted, unable to stomach another serving of reality. She was lucky; she got to miss the Lifetaker thrust an appendage into the third guard and squeeze his lungs until they burst. Gray cottage cheese spilled from the dead man's lips. The Lifetaker dropped the bodies and swung around to them.

"Fucking demon from hell!" McDermott shrieked.

It cocked its head protrusion. "Nothing supernatural about me, boss. I'm just your garden-variety smarty." It started forward, issuing a screeching metal-on-metal laugh that threatened McDermott's shaky composure.

Wait a minute- The male tech howled, his sanity deserting him, and tried to scramble up the wall.

A smarty-a machine! That was it!

He pulled the EMP grenade from his belt. It was the last thing he ever thought he'd need. But it paid to be prepared.

Thank you, God, he thought, as he pulled the pin.

67.

DONNER.

It happened all at once and very slowly.

My adrenals failed beneath an avalanche of lactic acid, muscles swamped by a kind of pain and fatigue I'd never known before. There was fur in my throat, cotton in my head.

Maggie strode to me in alarm. Elise took a step back, confusion in her eyes, a clementine blush on her cheeks.

"Poor angel," said Nicole. "That must hurt."

She flung her arms out at us, palms upturned. Two blades fired from her sleeves, shooting across the room, quicksilver flashes too fast for me to react to.

Max leapt sideways, but even jazzed he wasn't fast enough. The projectile caught him across the right triceps, severing muscles and tendons, turning his arm into dead weight. Blood drenched his side in arterial paroxysms.

Elise stumbled back into me. In that instant, there were a million things I wanted to cry out. But all I could do was watch. I tried to lift my arms, but they were underwater, wrapped in chains. She was at my side just as the blade arrived. It sliced through my Beretta. Then it passed through her midsection as if she was made of gossamer and not flesh and I had time to register her puff of air across my cheek, her familiar scent filling my nostrils, her look of shock and satisfaction burning into my mind.

Then she fell, hair flowing. She seemed to meet the ground lightly, like petals strewn from a careless hand. I screamed, dropping down beside her, watching her blood flowing too fast and too thick into the carpet beneath, clamping my hands to the top of my head in horror.

She grasped my elbow, patting it, and then she closed her eyes and let herself slide down to the place she'd hidden from all these years.

Before I could even moan out a denial, a concussion boomed from somewhere outside.

Maggie cried out. I looked up to see her sizzle and jerk like she'd stepped on a live wire. She burned nova bright for an instant and flashed out of existence with a pop, like an old flashcube. Her orb dropped to the carpet, smoking.

Darkness claimed all.

68.

DONNER.

Somewhere a generator cleared its throat. Emergency lights snapped on, bathing us in white shafts.

I looked around.

Nicole had fled, taking one of the blades with her.

Max struggled over to Elise, but I knew she was dead. I was violently sea-sick. My jinxed equilibrium sent me reeling sideways, arms flailing. Somehow I managed to stay on my feet.

"What was that?" I grunted.

"EMP grenade," Max said, his teeth clenched. He fell back on his haunches, his good hand clamped around his shoulder, blood leaking around his nails. "Someone in the bunker must've used it to kill the Lifetaker."