The Mantis Pt 03

Fire alarms ring throughout the building while flashing lights illuminate the desolate, dark hallways. Security drones roam each floor of the A.D.R.E. complex searching for a nonexistent fire. As critical info is gathered, it's sent to the central command center on the 3rd. floor. No one, however, is sitting behind the desk to assess the situation.

On the ground floor, elevator doors slide open in the right wing of the building's lobby. Fresh, clean air and professional atmosphere filled with expensive decor greet Amber when she exits, followed shortly by Ethan. With freedom so close, she takes off for the door.

"Hold on a minute," Ethan says, grabbing her leather jacket.

"What is it," she questions.

"Shh...," he whispers, gesturing with his finger. "Wait here."

"Why?"

"Just wait."

Tiptoeing to the corner, he crouches beside a large artificial plant. From the vantage point, he scans the lobby. Soon, his eyebrows furrow. Then, he shakes his head with disgust and sighs. Curious, she sneaks up behind him and kneels on the floor.

"Shouldn't we be leaving," she whispers.

"We need to find another exit," he says.

"How come?"

"I won't be able to get you past those drones," he says, retreating back into the cubbyhole.

"I only see a few guards and a soldier."

"Those are drones projecting realistic-looking holograms and not what you think."

"Huh?"

"See that flashing light on the wall," he says, pointing.

"What about it?"

"The building's security system isn't currently registering occupants in the main lobby."

"I don't plan to stay here long enough to be an occupant," she quips, sliding the backpack off her shoulder.

"What are you doing," he questions.

"You'll see," she says, sitting the backpack on the floor.

As she rummages through the contents, Ethan peeks over her shoulder. His eyes widen once she removes two identical exotic-looking shiny blades similar in appearance to a boomerang. Each one; razor sharp on the outer edge with tiny serrated barbs jutting from one end on the inside edge. The other end; sleek and smooth, with subtle grooves in the metal tip for use as a make-shift handle if need be.

"You can't go in there with primitive weapons," he says.

"Have some faith," she says.

"Faith has nothing to do with it. You're going to get yourself killed."

She spins around and gazes into his eyes. Her silence; it speaks volumes. A smile, however, would offer some sort of reassurance.

"Don't be a fool," he says, stopping her. "We can find another way to get you out of here."

"I've got this."

"I hope you know what you're doing," he says, letting go of her arm.

With a blade in each hand, Amber sneaks into the lobby, moving from hiding spot to the next. At first, things go unusually well, her stealthy movements; undetected. Before she reaches the large extravagant fountain, complications arise.

"Intruder alert. Facility lockdown initiated," a computerized voice announces, the message; repeating.

Suddenly, the lights come on in the lobby.

"What the - ," she murmurs, hitting the floor.

"The building's security system knows you're in there," Ethan hollers.

Per protocol, the security guards fan out and search the vicinity while the soldier guards the main entrance. Hiding behind the fountain's waterfall, Amber lifts her head over the basin. She waits, tracking each one's location. Once they're within range, she throws one of the blades.

Slicing through the fountain's water spray, it passes between two of them at a downward angle knee high. As it hooks around them, it's elliptical trajectory begins defying the laws of physics, gaining both altitude and momentum before targeting the security guard on the far side. Instead of dealing a death blow, it passes through the drone's hologram, disrupting the image.

"Fuck," she cusses, snatching the blade from the air.

"I told you," Ethan hollers.

"Drop the weapon and put your hands on your head," one of the security guard orders.

"Convince me," she says, digging in.

"Don't let them touch you," Ethan shouts.

All Hell breaks loose when they rush her. She retreats, leaping and climbing over everything in her way. When she can't go any further, she turns around and makes a stand, waiting. Her weapons; poised.

Two of the guards converge on her head on; the third, flanking from a safer distance. With lightning-fast reflexes, she dodges their every attempt to restrain her as though it were just a game. Then, out of nowhere, she springs from a semi-crouched position and simultaneously strikes them both in the head with the blades.

Their holographic images vanish. Her blades; embedded within sophisticated technology. One at a time, she slams the damaged drones onto the floor, bashing one atop the other.

Victory is short-lived. A crashing sound from behind startles her. Expecting the worse, she spins around raising her weapons. Standing in front of her is Ethan, a shattered drone on the floor at her feet.

"And you thought my weapons were primitive, she says, lowering the blades.

"Just like swatting flies," he jests, dropping the chair on a pile of electronic debris, chuckling.

Without warning, a bullet whizzes past them and hits a concrete column, knocking a chunk out of it.

"Get down," he shouts, shoving her onto the floor.

"What the - ,"

"Take cover," he says, scurrying to the safety of the cubbyhole by the elevator.

Hovering in the air above Amber, a more lethal drone, approaches. As it traverses the lobby's airspace, artificial intelligence identifies and analyzes potential threats. Then, the lights go out, concealing its black spherical silhouette against a background of darkness.

"What is that thing," she asks, crawling behind a chair.

"You probably should've taken that drone out first," Ethan says.

"They didn't have numbers on them."

Suddenly, a bullet penetrates the back of the chair. Seconds later, another one rips through it, both missing her head by inches. Knocking it over, she scrambles for better cover behind a concrete column.

"It doesn't have endless ammo," he hollers.

"That's not very helpful," she says, pressing her back against the column.

"It won't shoot unless it's a kill shot," he adds.

"Anything better?"

"Yeah, keep moving," he says.

"Easier said than done," she says, checking around a corner.

"Behind you," he shouts.

Without looking back over her shoulder, Amber darts around the corner as soon as the drone comes into view. A split second later, pieces of concrete fly through the air when a bullet hits the column. Around and around, she circles, trying to keep the structure between her and the drone at all times.

"Any chance it'll give up," she inquires.

"It's trying to kill you. What do you think?"

"You don't want to know," she mumbles.

Suddenly, the drone moves in closer, speeding up its orbit.

"It looks like it's a stalemate," he says.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Bad," he shouts, waiting for her to circle back around. "It's is learning from you."

"Huh?"

"Sooner or later it'll -"

"What," she interrupts.

"Anticipate your moves."

An idea pops into Amber's head. It's risky; the slightest miscalculation could prove fatal. Still, it's her only option.

Her pace quickens as she rounds each corner. At first, she pulls away. Then, she slips, losing enough ground for another bullet to be fired. After awhile, it appears as if she's doing the chasing rather than the other way around.

Before the drone's sensors detect her location, she lunges at it with her blades, knocking it away from its circular course. Random bullets hit the floor beside her, chipping the marble tile. Unable to capitalize, she scrambles to her feet, leaps over some furniture and hides until she can regroup.

Once the drone stabilizes, it zigzags through the airspace, searching for her whereabouts. She holds her breath as it passes overhead. When it's far enough away, she throws one of the blades.

Hi-tech sensors detect, track, and calculate the trajectory of the incoming threat. Rising in altitude, the drone evades immanent impact. While the spinning blade hovers underneath it, she throws the other blade.

A vertical arc takes the second blade above the drone. Once it reaches the apex point, it accelerates entering the terminal phase while the first blade returns to her hand. Before the drone can swing around and target Amber, it's hit.

Chunks of plastic and tiny pieces of electronic parts break off as the blade saws through the outer hull. Then, it reverses course, traversing the same vertical arc back to her hand. A few seconds later, the mangled drone crashes to the floor. It's circuits; shorting out.

"Whew... That was close," she says, twirling one of the blades in her hand.

"The party's over," Ethan says, rushing into the lobby with her backpack. "Let's get out of here before more come."

"There's more?"

"Yeah," he says, heading to the entrance, "and some are deadlier than that one."

She follows him. When he stops, he swipes the sensor beside the door with his ID badge.

"Fuck," he mumbles.

"Now what," she asks.

"It won't unlock."

"Move," she says, brushing him to the side.

"It's shatterproof glass."

"Then cover your eyes," she says.

"It's not going to break, Amber."

She backpedals a few steps, lifts her leg, and raises a blade above her head. Using her body weight to generate momentum, she throws it at the door. Upon impact, the glass shatters into thousands of tiny pieces.

"Problem solved," she says.

"Okay, I'm impressed," he says.

"Are you trying to flatter me?"

"No, not really," he says, stepping through the broken door.

"I didn't think so."

Pieces of glass crunch beneath her feet as she steps through the shattered door and picks up the blade. Then, she follows Ethan around the building, down a long walkway, out across a pedestrian overpass, and up several flights of steps.

As soon as they reach the lower parking deck, approaching sirens in the distance fill the night air. With time still working against them, Ethan hands her the backpack, then digs the keys from his pocket.

"We're being followed," he says.

"Huh, she questions, glancing back over her shoulder. "I don't see anyone behind us."

"We're going to be cutting this close."

"Where are we going," she asks.

"To my car," he says.

"And go where?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure someone has called Brett and told him what's going on by now."

He glances at a surveillance cameras as they pass underneath it.

"I can take care of myself," she says.

"Once Brett finds out you're gone, he'll utilize every resource he has at his disposal to hunt you down."

Lights on a jet black Ford Explorer flicker when Ethan presses the keyless entry.

"Why're you helping me?"

"I don't know," he says, opening up the drive's door. "I still asking myself that same question."

From out of nowhere, security guards appear. Diving inside the vehicle, Ethan starts the engine.

"Get in," he shouts, slamming the door.

It's too late. Upon identifying Amber, they call for backup as she circumvents the vehicle. When she opens the door and jumps in, Ethan stomps the accelerator. The sudden take off, slings her back against the seat.

"Close the door," he hollers.

"I'm trying," she says.

Swerving through parking garage, he speeds towards the back security gate. Seconds later, he crashes through the thin plastic barrier and turns on the main road. After awhile, he slows down.

Shortly, fire trucks with their sirens blaring and lights flashing pass by them, traveling in the opposite direction. Police cars soon speed by with their lights flashing. After awhile, Ethan turns onto a side street.

"Where to now," she questions.

"I don't know. I'm thinking," he says.

"I could stay at your place."

"That's the first place Brett will look when he finds out you're missing."