And about fifty Mogadorians, hard at work at various tasks, including the small crew of the Skimmer we followed in here. They get out of their ship and begin refueling.
Slowly, I set us down on the deck. Adam’s sneakers squeak when they touch the metal floor, and he nearly loses his balance.
None of the Mogs notice.
Six, do you have Adam? I ask telepathically.
I feel Six’s arm tense on my shoulders as I speak in her mind. She shifts position, presumably so she can get a better grip on the Mogadorian, which isn’t exactly easy since none of us can see each other.
Got him, she thinks back after a moment.
I let go of both of them, now maintaining only my own invisibility.
I’m going to clear the room.
Do you need he—? Six thinks back, but I close off the telepathy before any more thoughts get through.
I don’t need help.
Carefully, I roll up the sleeve of my shirt. There was something I didn’t want the others to see me using, afraid of the bad feelings it might bring up. In truth, I’m kind of glad I don’t have to see it myself, still invisible as I am. It might make me wonder what I’ve become.
Shink.
I deploy Five’s forearm blade. We took it off him in New York, and I claimed it from Nine’s things this morning. It’s the perfect lethal tool for a job like this. Needle sharp and quiet.
I float across the hangar so that I don’t make any noise. There’s a panel on one side of the room with an intercom and some video screens. Communications. There are two Mogs sitting there as I approach, watching live feeds sent in from the Skimmers patrolling the falls.
I drive Five’s blade into the base of their skulls, one after the other, so quick that neither of them even notices the other’s been dusted.
I turn around. None of the Mogadorian mechanics or pilots have noticed.
I won’t let any of them get by me. I won’t let any of them call for help.
Methodically, I start to work my way through the hangar. I pick off the stragglers first, the ones who are isolated. I can float right up to them, right in front of their hideous faces, and the blade goes in easy. None of them even get a scream out. At a certain point, maybe after the tenth or the twentieth, my mind goes on autopilot. It starts to feel like I’m not even the one doing this. It’s just happening in front of me.
I’m a ghost. A vengeful ghost.
It’s quick the way I kill. Merciful. A better death than these bastards gave the people of New York or any of the millions of others they’ve murdered.
Sarah.
After a few minutes, one of the Mogs shouts out a warning. It was bound to happen eventually with all the dust floating through the air, with their numbers being thinned by half. They start to search around frantically. One of them screams something in Mogadorian and falls to his knees, looking hysterical. A couple of others follow suit. I’m not sure what to make of that. Most of them make a run for the racks of blasters or for the unmanned communications array.
Blaster fire sizzles through the air from the direction of the comm panel. Blaster fire from blasters that I can’t even see. Looks like Six and Adam helped themselves, then doubled back to make sure the Mogs were cut off. Smart.
Guess I did need a little help.
It doesn’t take long for the hangar to be cleared. Unprepared and fighting against invisible opponents where they thought they’d be safe, the Mogs don’t have a chance.
When the last Mog is just a grainy film on the windshield of one of the Skimmers, I turn visible. Six and Adam quickly follow suit, both of them now holding blasters. Adam stares at me, eyes wide, maybe a little overwhelmed by the slaughter.
“Shit, John,” Six says, raising an eyebrow at my choice of weaponry. “That was pretty intense.” Six jogs over to the double doors that separate the hangar from the rest of the ship and checks to see if there are reinforcements waiting. We cut off the Mogs before they could raise an alarm, but someone passing by could’ve heard the blasters. She flashes me a thumbs-up. “All good.” I catch Adam’s eye and point to the spot where the Mog fell onto his knees. “The one who panicked. What was he saying?”
Adam swallows hard. “He said that Setrákus Ra has truly abandoned them. That their lives are ending now that Beloved Leader is dead.”
“So some of them actually believed that,” Six says.
“Oh yeah,” Adam replies. “Especially once John started going all wrath-of-god.”
“They haven’t seen anything yet,” I reply.
I open the pocket on my vest and finally let Bernie Kosar and Dust loose. They transform into their beagle and wolf forms and seem glad to be out of captivity. Dust starts to sniff around the floor, eventually making his way to the exit with Six. BK sits down next to me and licks my fingertips. If a dog could look concerned, he does. I ignore him.