Randall spotted several figures streaking from the brush, heading across an open area toward an overpass of the old highway. He put the glasses to his eyes and focused in on them. There! A running man, dark complexioned, with a prominent mustache. It had to be Da Cruz! Just as he thought his fortunes had finally changed, a heavy laserbeam streaked down, smoking a patch of weeds near one of the running figures. "Don't shoot yet, you fools!" He exploded over the command circuit.
The next thing Randall saw was a floater tumbling from the sky and he suddenly realized that the fire had not come from his men. The shot had been an errant beam aimed at his own floaters. He flagged the radar display which had been turned off to accommodate the hastily installed IR gear. A flotilla of dots shaped like the vee of migrating geese appeared on the screen. The leaders had already broken formation to engage his force. He saw immediately that they were heavily outnumbered. He sagged in his seat, trying to think. Another laserbeam crossed horrifyingly close to the canopy. Even through the insulating screen he heard the shrill hum of the following slug. A floater passed beneath his craft, trailing smoke and fire. It crashed headlong into the ground and exploded.
Randall saw that his only chance now was to get Da Cruz in his hands. With him as a captive, negotiation might be possible; without him, he might just as well be dead. Randall wrested control from his pilot. "I'm taking us down. We're going to land right on top of that group down there. Kill the women if you have to, but I want that man alive, you hear?" He spoke over his shoulder to the eight troopers in the rear seats as he streaked down to the overpass where the running figures had taken shelter, then dropped precipitously just before they would have hit it. The floater landed with a jarring thud. "Out!" He yelled.
***
In hindsight, Masters saw that he had made an error in separating his small force. In a few more moments, the skies would have been cleared of enemy floaters by the Houston Enclave fleet he had just spotted and they would all have been safe. All he could do now was try to link up again with Kristi and hope that Jamie hadn't been hurt. He pointed in the direction which he hoped would intersect with her group, and waved for his men to hurry, no longer worried by an overhead enemy. As they ran in that direction, he accessed the broadbeam channel of his body computer. It had only limited range but he thought a passing floater should pick up his signal. "Houston, Houston, Captain Masters here. We need assistance." He gave his coordinates, then left the channel open, hoping someone would hear. As he continued to run, he thought how ironic it would be if His or Kristi's group were seen from the air and mistaken for enemy troops. They might be attacked by friendly fire before they could be identified!
Masters and his few tired rangers emerged from the heavier growth just as Randall's floater dropped down to the overpass, and just as he spotted Kristi and her group going to ground there. He saw the four figures turn to fight, unable now to make it into the woods on the other side. They had been brought to bay. Troopers leaped from the downed floater and spread away from it. He saw one go down and others begin to shoot back. "Get 'em!" He shouted at his own men, thinking it was already too late. No assistance had yet come from the Houston Enclave floaters. In fact, he didn't know if his urgent signal had even been heard. The air battle still raged overhead, floaters from both sides maneuvering in patterns not seen on earth since the old dogfights of WWI. He paused to aim and fire at one of the enemy troopers. The slug exploded into the enemy's spine a microsecond after the laserbeam hit, spraying bone and flesh and a fountain of blood. Two of the troopers turned and began a return fire, driving his men to cover. The others disappeared from view, screened by the grounded floater.
***
The floater appeared like magic before Jamie's eyes, just as he thought they might escape. One second it was not there, the next it was on the ground, disgorging troops. Instinctively, he pushed Jeannie to the ground, forgetting that she could have helped. Her weapon skittered from her hand, leaving her defenseless. He yelled at his pets. "Fuzz! Wog! Get away!" There was no way they could fight armed men. His own weapon was already in his hand. He fired, saw a man go down and took aim again. To his side, Kristi fell, a gaping wound opening in her side. He screamed in anger and grief, pulling the trigger of his laser gun again and again until it was empty.
***
Randall saw a blonde haired ranger fall, mortally wounded. Da Cruz had pushed another to the ground, and he saw a third drop from the concussion of a slug exploding into the concrete near her head. She fell to the ground. Behind him, Randall heard more shots, too many for his few troopers to account for as he suddenly realized that only one of eight who had emerged with him was still on his feet. He saw Da Cruz standing upright, firing with rage in his eyes. He took aim himself, just as his last trooper fell. Carefully, he sent a laserbeam into Jamie's arm, holding back on the trigger to avoid letting a slug follow.
Jamie screamed and dropped his weapon, slapping at the smoking wound. Randall spurted forward before he had time to recover and whipped the butt of his weapon against his head, stunning him. He twisted Jamie's good arm behind his back and stuck the muzzle of his laser gun against his spine. "Move," he ordered roughly, pushing him back toward the floater, using his body for cover.
Jamie's senses were blurred. He had seen both Kristi and Judy fall and thought them both dead. Jeannie was still on the ground where he had pushed her, just now regaining her senses, but helpless without a weapon. His pets had disappeared. He shook his head, still in Randall's grasp. He was shoved roughly up into the floater and sprawled on the deck. He tried to think clearly, but visions of the last two weeks overcame rationality. After all this, to be ignominiously captured, the two women he loved either dead or left behind to perish with his pets in the wilds was almost too much to bear. He thought suddenly of the little laser gun still strapped to his boot, but there was no way to get to it now, not in the face of Randall's weapon pointed confidently at his chest. His arm hurt terribly from the laserburn. His coverall sleeve was still smoldering. I have to try, he thought foggily. The worst that can happen is that he'll kill me.
Randall kept Jamie covered as he took the pilot's seat. He didn't bother to close the canopy. He had no intention of taking off and probably being shot back down, not now, when he had the prize. He turned halfway around in the seat so that he could signal while still keeping watch on his prisoner. He had to get the Houston Enclave forces to back off, and with Da Cruz captive, that should be no problem. From there, he could negotiate from strength. He began instructing the floater's computer while Jamie gritted his teeth against the fire in his arm and tried to think of a way to distract his captor.
Randall had just begun to broadcast an ultimatum when a multi-colored ball of flashing claws and teeth jumped into the opened compartment and landed on his head, coming in from his blind side. "Arrghh!" He screamed as a claw hooked into his eye, blinding him. He pawed frantically at the animal, completely forgetting his weapon. He grabbed a handful of fur and skin and tore at the animal, trying to get it loose.
Jamie felt time slow down to a molasses crawl. Fuzzy Britches seemed to hang in the air forever as Randall tore him loose and flung him away, clutching at his blinded eye. The little laser gun strapped to his boot some untold ages ago came loose from it's holster and into his hand, but slowly, as if it were reluctant to move. A wave of pain bit even deeper into his arm as he grasped it and flexed his wrist. Randall's own weapon swung slowly back toward him as bright spots danced in front of his eyes, blurring his vision. Then, as suddenly as time had slowed down, it speeded forward like a runaway sled and everything seemed to happen at once. He fired upward from his unsteady position on the deck, once, twice, three times.
The first slug took Randall in the shoulder, cratering the joint and flinging his body into the computer screen. The other two shots missed, shattering the upraised canopy to bits, but it didn't matter. Randall's weapon popped from his hand the instant he was hit, leaving him helpless, blinded in one eye and staggered into shock from his ruined shoulder.
Jamie picked up Randall's weapon with his bad arm and flung it away, then had to endure more pain in order to hold off Fuzzy Britches who had bounced off a wall, been stunned momentarily, and was now trying his best to get at Randall's other eye, snarling like a wildcat. "Enough, Fuzz. You did good," he said. Outside, he heard Woggly growl. He drug the weakly resisting Randall to the cockpit door. As he tumbled him out onto the ground, he saw that Woggly was just finishing ripping out the throat of one of Randall's wounded men. The dog had been unable to make it up into the floater to help Fuzzy Britches, having no claws to help him aboard, but he had prevented the wounded man from intervening. Jamie began climbing out of the floater, trying to look in all directions and at the same time searching for Jeannie.
Jamie was very nearly killed by Masters as he stumbled out of the floater, going down to his knees, but Masters held his fire at the last moment as he recognized who it was. He ran over to Jamie and bent over him. The lone survivor of his force ran up behind him, holding a bloody arm. Jamie got back to his feet and staggered toward where he had left the others. "Jeannie, Kristi," he moaned.
"Are there any more of these bastards in the floater?" Masters demanded, trying to see how badly Jamie was wounded as he followed, and searching for more enemies at the same time.
"No, he was the only one. Jeannie!" He gasped thankfully as she ran up to him, completely unhurt.
Just then Masters spotted Kristi's prone form, covered with blood. He blanched at the thought that she was dead, then saw frothy pink bubbles spew from her mouth as she tried to breath. "You two get in that floater," he commanded, motioning them away. "I'll take care of her." He ran to where she lay bleeding. He ripped out his medkit and began trying to staunch the gaping wound. Judy rose shakily to her feet from she had been knocked unconscious by the near miss which had exploded into a concrete pillar supporting the overpass. She ran to help her captain. "Take over here," he told her. "I've got to get a signal out." He ran for the floater, hoping that it's computer was still functional.
Inside, Jeannie was trying to treat Jamie's wound based on the slight knowledge she had gained from her brief training course. She had gotten some pain killer into him and was beginning to cut off his coverall sleeve with her knife. She was sickened at the way the fabric had melted into his flesh.
Masters saw that Jamie was in no immediate danger and left her to it. The floater's computer was still on line and miraculously unhit from Jamie's wild shots. He gave it the proper channel to broadcast on and began calling immediately. "Houston, Houston! Come in! This is Captain Troy Masters. We have survivors in a captured floater." While waiting for an answer, he glanced at the power gauge and did a hasty calculation. If Kristi were to be saved, he needed to start back immediately, and even then, he doubted there was time. Her wound was just too huge. First though, he had to make sure that they would not be shot down by their own forces, or any of the enemy still in the air.
"Houston Enclave Commander here. Give your status."
"We have wounded, in bad shape. I intend to lift off immediately and fly directly back to the Enclave. Can you cover me?"
"No need, captain, at least for the moment. We've cleared the air of enemy."
Masters turned to Jeannie. "Leave Jamie alone for now. He'll live. Get outside and tell Judy and Costa to get Kristi in here. Call the pets. Hurry!" He began readying the craft to lift, wondering how long Kristi could live with such a wound. It was bad, about as bad as it could get and still leave her breathing.
Judy, Jeannie and the wounded ranger carried Kristi aboard, then boosted Woggly and the other dogs up inside. Masters lifted off immediately. As soon as he had them airborne, he spoke to the commander of the friendly force who he knew must have communications back to the Enclave. "Call ahead and have an ER autodoc standing by at the landing field. We're going to need help as soon as we arrive."
"Will do," the anonymous voice answered.
Masters raised the captured floater above treetop level and headed out. An escort formed around him. He added speed and wind began whistling through the broken canopy. Behind him, Lady lay beside the deathly white form of Kristi, whimpering softly.
***
Randall opened his eyes and tried to move. An awful pain in his side threw him back to the ground. He gasped in agony and tried it again, moving inches at a time until he managed to gain his knees. The pain was so bad that he bit his lip, then cried out anyway. Around him lay the bodies of several of his men, all dead. The floater was gone, and with it Da Cruz, his only hope of ever returning to Moon City. Or even living at all. From behind him, he heard a squeaking noise. He turned painfully. A rat crouched a few feet away, eyes gleaming with intelligence. Two more came into view, moving cautiously at first, then more confidently as they saw how helpless the human was. Randall stared into the black depths of the hungry eyes. "Oh, God," he said.
The rats crept closer and were joined by others. This prey, at least, would not escape.