Read Online The Next Chronicle (Book 1): Next by Joshua Guess - Free Book Online
Authors: Joshua Guess
Tags: Superhero/Sci-Fi
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sharpshooters on the roof of the bakery. Two more moved into position across the river to cover the rear exit. Kit watched the unmarked cars carrying her backup and support personnel park at nearby businesses. Archer gave her a steady flow of updates via the headset wrapped around her ear.
“All units in place,” Archer said, his voice tinny and slightly distorted. “Give me a checkoff.”
The agents in place around the warehouse sounded off one by one, each giving a green light. Kit was last, waiting a few seconds after the last agent chimed in.
“This is Singh. Jacobs and I are ready. Give us a verbal countdown from thirty on my mark and we'll make our descent if we've got a green board.”
“ There are no signs the target is aware of us,” Archer said. “We're good to go all across the board.”
“ Okay, people,” Kit said. “This is it. Mark.”
As the countdown sounded in her ear, Kit put a hand on the mute button. She looked up at the darkening sky. The first stars were shining through the dusk, and up where she was—dangling from a few yards of nylon webbing twisted into a harness, held aloft by a man who could soar the skies—the air was clear and crisp. Up here, people and their problems seemed small and everything out there so much more grand.
“God, that's pretty,” Kit said as she stared upward.
Jacobs had been enjoying the view himself, but looked down at her. He winked.
“...three, two, one. Drop!”
Kit let her hand drop from the microphone's mute button. She and Jacobs didn't move toward the ground at breakneck speed, but it was fast. Suddenly all those problems were getting bigger. A hundred feet above the warehouse roof, Kit muttered without thinking.
“Here we go,” she said.
Her mic was live, and the agents had been instructed to maintain radio silence with her except for emergencies. Archer was the only one who would communicate with her directly. When he replied, it barely sounded like his voice. The bluster, the confidence, were gone from it.
“Be careful, Kit,” he said.
Thirty feet from the roof, Jacobs slowed. He landed lightly several steps back from the front awning. Kit unhooked her harness and painstakingly made her way to the edge. Back to the street, she motioned for Jacobs to leave, watching him dash into the sky before pulling a flash-bang from the Velcro of her tactical vest with her left hand and a Taser with her right.
“Now,” she said into her mic and jumped backward over the edge.
Kit flipped in the air and landed facing the front of the warehouse. The glass was already shattering around her, silenced rifle shots giving her an easy entrance. The glass didn't fall, however; two telekinetic agents stationed a block away snatched the falling pieces and pulled them away through the air.
Kit yanked the pin from her grenade but didn't throw. She streaked forward at full speed just as the first guard began to realize something was wrong. The man stepped out from behind a rusting shelf, dull shock on his face. The barrel of his shotgun rose quickly, but Kit was pushing her speed as hard as she could. Having a physical ranking of total-plus was useful in situations like this.
With effort, she could push past the limits of her abilities for short periods of time. It hurt like hell, but came in handy for things like combat and not getting shot in the face. To a normal person, the guard's shotgun would have almost blurred as it swung toward her.
But she had all the time in the world. Kit pulled one of the two triggers on her weapon as she swept by, a tiny dart exploding toward him. There was a small pop, the glint of the wire trailing behind it.
As the guard fell, she released the trigger, detaching the spent cartridge from the weapon. Moving toward the back of the room, Kit dropped to the floor and threw herself into a spin. It had only been a gleam in the darkness, but instinct honed from dealing with many shooters in darkened areas took over. The second
“All units in place,” Archer said, his voice tinny and slightly distorted. “Give me a checkoff.”
The agents in place around the warehouse sounded off one by one, each giving a green light. Kit was last, waiting a few seconds after the last agent chimed in.
“This is Singh. Jacobs and I are ready. Give us a verbal countdown from thirty on my mark and we'll make our descent if we've got a green board.”
“ There are no signs the target is aware of us,” Archer said. “We're good to go all across the board.”
“ Okay, people,” Kit said. “This is it. Mark.”
As the countdown sounded in her ear, Kit put a hand on the mute button. She looked up at the darkening sky. The first stars were shining through the dusk, and up where she was—dangling from a few yards of nylon webbing twisted into a harness, held aloft by a man who could soar the skies—the air was clear and crisp. Up here, people and their problems seemed small and everything out there so much more grand.
“God, that's pretty,” Kit said as she stared upward.
Jacobs had been enjoying the view himself, but looked down at her. He winked.
“...three, two, one. Drop!”
Kit let her hand drop from the microphone's mute button. She and Jacobs didn't move toward the ground at breakneck speed, but it was fast. Suddenly all those problems were getting bigger. A hundred feet above the warehouse roof, Kit muttered without thinking.
“Here we go,” she said.
Her mic was live, and the agents had been instructed to maintain radio silence with her except for emergencies. Archer was the only one who would communicate with her directly. When he replied, it barely sounded like his voice. The bluster, the confidence, were gone from it.
“Be careful, Kit,” he said.
Thirty feet from the roof, Jacobs slowed. He landed lightly several steps back from the front awning. Kit unhooked her harness and painstakingly made her way to the edge. Back to the street, she motioned for Jacobs to leave, watching him dash into the sky before pulling a flash-bang from the Velcro of her tactical vest with her left hand and a Taser with her right.
“Now,” she said into her mic and jumped backward over the edge.
Kit flipped in the air and landed facing the front of the warehouse. The glass was already shattering around her, silenced rifle shots giving her an easy entrance. The glass didn't fall, however; two telekinetic agents stationed a block away snatched the falling pieces and pulled them away through the air.
Kit yanked the pin from her grenade but didn't throw. She streaked forward at full speed just as the first guard began to realize something was wrong. The man stepped out from behind a rusting shelf, dull shock on his face. The barrel of his shotgun rose quickly, but Kit was pushing her speed as hard as she could. Having a physical ranking of total-plus was useful in situations like this.
With effort, she could push past the limits of her abilities for short periods of time. It hurt like hell, but came in handy for things like combat and not getting shot in the face. To a normal person, the guard's shotgun would have almost blurred as it swung toward her.
But she had all the time in the world. Kit pulled one of the two triggers on her weapon as she swept by, a tiny dart exploding toward him. There was a small pop, the glint of the wire trailing behind it.
As the guard fell, she released the trigger, detaching the spent cartridge from the weapon. Moving toward the back of the room, Kit dropped to the floor and threw herself into a spin. It had only been a gleam in the darkness, but instinct honed from dealing with many shooters in darkened areas took over. The second
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