Jason’s in trouble.

The thought flashed across Tiny’s mind as he was punching a Spectran soldier in the stomach.  As the man slid to the floor, the Owl scanned the large aircraft hanger and found the Condor in the back corner, handedly taking down two goons of his own.  Nothing in Jason’s posture belied a problem.  Tiny turned his attention back to the squad of green-clad men in front of him. 

It was three weeks into Princess and Jason’s shared field command.  As predicted, the Spectran attacks had come, fast and furious.  So far, under the Condor and Swan’s joint leadership, G-Force had managed to repel Zoltar and his men.   

But now … 

Tiny felt distinctly uneasy.  He had no idea why, but something had set his teeth on edge.  He looked over at Jason and frowned. 

Something’s not right.  I’d better go check it out.

Tiny jumped directly into the squad of Spectran soldiers in front of him, punching left and right, leaving a tangled trail of green in his wake.  One of the soldiers had been carrying a hamburger.  Tiny caught a whiff of ketchup and relish.  He had to fight himself not to stop and eat the dead man’s food. 

I’m so hungry.  How long’s it been seen we’ve had a real meal?

This week, Intel had predicted Zoltar’s actions with uncanny accuracy.  Three missions in as many days.  The entire G-Force team was on edge, nerves frayed, tempers flaring.  In the hope of slowing production on Spectra’s seemingly endless supply of mechanical monsters, the team had been dispatched to an earth-based Spectran mecha production plant. 

Even before the team landed, Princess had barely managed to quell a fight between the Falcon and the Swallow.  Only a steel glare from Jason, brandishing his cable gun and threatening to tie them up together, ended the conflict. 

Once on base, Princess had opted to leave Darien aboard the Phoenix, rather than risk putting the Falcon with either Keyop or herself.  Jason and Tiny were playing decoy, drawing the enemy out of the labyrinth of passageways in the complex.  Princess and Keyop needed enough time to download the schematics for future war ships before setting the charges. 

Another squad of goons found the Condor.  Jason performed his maneuvers flawlessly, and Tiny began to wonder if he’d been imagining things.  He was just about to return to the front of the complex when, in the midst of blocking, kicking, and tackling, Jason shot a desperate glance at Tiny.

I can’t keep this up much longer. 

Tiny heard the words as clearly as if Jason had spoken.  The weariness in his eyes startled the Owl.  He bit back a curse and nodded at his teammate. 

You got it, Jase.

Tiny positioned himself to Jason’s back, using the same stance he’d seen Mark in so many times, during the many missions when Tiny himself had been relegated to the Phoenix.  Together, like a vengeful human circle, the two began to rotate just slightly, kicking and punching anything that moved in their direction.

Tiny tapped his wrist communicator.  “How much longer?” he asked.

Princess’ voice was tinny, the transmission slightly garbled.  “…ty minutes.”

Tiny frowned.  Twenty minutes?  Thirty minutes?  There was a world of difference.  How much longer can Jason hold out?  Tiny looked up just in time to block a flying kick to the head.

Jason had paused beside him, tapping his own wrist.  “Repeat?” he asked Princess. 

Tiny saw the purple-clad soldier throw the grenade before Jason did.  He shoved his teammate down to the dusty floor, hard, covering both of them with his wings.

KA-BLAM!

The sound was deafening.  For a minute, the world canted sideways.  The explosion rocked the load-bearing wall behind them.  Large pieces of cement, chunks of rock, fragments of shrapnel, clouds of dust, and flaming debris rained down in the hanger.  Smoke filled the room, thick and acrid.  Automatic sprinklers turned on, adding to the chaos.  Green-glad soldiers ran in every direction, screaming, coughing, and wailing as they headed for the doors.

Tiny heard the distant sound of a second explosion.  His stomach dropped. 

Did the fire from this explosion reach the charges set by Princess and Keyop?  Where are they?  Are they all right?   

“Evacuate!” Tiny screamed at his wrist.  “Get out now, G-3.  There’s no more time.”

Princess didn’t respond. 

Tiny stood and glanced around the hanger, now nearly empty, weighing his options.  Somebody needed to check on Princess and Keyop.  The Condor was still collapsed in a heap on the floor, coughing uncontrollably.  A thin film of white dust had collected on the inside of Jason's visor.  And the walls of this base prevented their wrist coms from contacting the Phoenix. 

Terrific.

Tiny hauled Jason to his feet.  The Condor didn’t look good at all.  “You all right?” he asked the gunner.  He used a gloved finger to wipe the dust from Jason’s visor and peered into his teammate’s eyes.

Jason blinked, clearly disoriented.  He swayed on his feet, his voice faint and hoarse.  “I think so.” 

Like hell, thought Tiny.  He shook his head.  I’ll have to go without him.

Another coughing fit.  “What happened?” Jason could barely choke out the words.

“Tell you later,” Tiny said.  “Come on!”  Tiny grabbed Jason’s arm, pushing and shoving him toward the large metal doors designed to admit or eject full scale mechanical monsters.  Tiny pointed Jason toward the smaller doorway on the right.  “The Phoenix is just over the ridge, okay?  Radio for Darien once you’re outside.  These walls block most everything.”  Tiny gave Jason one last shove in the correct direction and began to dart the other way.

Jason looked around, dazed.  “Where you going?”  His words were slightly slurred as he tried to stifle another cough.

Tiny pivoted on one foot and ran back to Jason.  He grabbed the Condor roughly by the shoulders.

“Jase, you gotta listen to me.  You can’t help.  You’re in shock.  I think you got a lungful of dust or something.  Go back to the Phoenix.  I need to check on Princess and Keyop.”

Jason coughed, then added in a raspy voice, “I should come …”

“No, you shouldn’t!”  Tiny yelled.  “Damn it, Jason!  For once, just do what you’re told.”

Jason’s eyes widened, but he did exactly as Tiny said.  Tiny watched his teammate long enough to ensure that Jason was heading toward the correct door.  Then, the Owl bolted in the other direction, running toward the sound of the explosions.

***    

Keyop woke to find himself on the floor.  His visor, cracked down the middle, offered a disorienting view of the nearby computer bank.  He sat up carefully, but he couldn’t detect any injuries.  From the condition of his helmet, Keyop marveled that his head was still intact. 

He glanced around.  The lighting was out in the base’s main computer room.  Only emergency lights gleamed from the edges of the walls, and even those were pulsing irregularly.  The air smelled of smoke and the acrid odor of an electrical fire.  Keyop wrinkled his nose.  He could hear sensors and sirens going off in other portions of the facility. 

The thought of “What happened?” crossed his mind simultaneously with the memory of a purple-winged soldier tossing a grenade at them.

Zoltar!  The entire mission had been a trap.  So much for Intel, thought Keyop.

A whimper in the darkness startled him.  Princess lay on the ground near the doorway, her body contorted, moaning softly.  Blood flowed freely from a gash on her left thigh where neither her skirt nor her high-topped boots had protected her leg from flying shrapnel.  Keyop grabbed a fallen jacket from a nearby chair and used the tip of a shuriken to tear a strip from it.  He tied the makeshift bandage around her leg and pulled her into a sitting position.  Before he could ask if she was all right, she spoke.   

“Keyop?  Are you okay?”  Princess was looking at him, but as she said it, she put her hand to her leg and winced.

“Bree – boop – doot.  Fine.”  Keyop looked at the charred remnants of the room, realization dawning.  Our bombs didn’t do this.  That means … 

“Time?” he asked, his voice urgent.

Princess met his concerned gaze, eyes wide.  She checked her wrist.  “Five minutes.”  She hit the Bird Scramble.  Keyop’s wrist resounded with hers, but she shook her head. 

“I don’t think it went through to the others,” she said.  “These walls are too thick.”

Keyop was already running out the door toward the main hanger.  There were no Spectran soldiers in the halls.  Time was of the essence.  They had to move, and fast. 

“Let’s go,” Keyop called over his shoulder.  He was already into the next corridor before he realized that she wasn’t following him.

“Princess?”  Keyop ran back the way he had come. 

She was limping.  From the awkwardness of her gait, Keyop realized that her leg injury was more serious than he had realized.  She was hobbling along as quickly as she could under the circumstances.  He looked at her with concern. 

“You go ahead, Keyop,” Princess said, her voice firm.  With every few steps, she leaned against the wall for support.  “Get out and call the others.”

Keyop shook his head and folded his arms.  “Not … leaving.”

“That’s an order, G-4,” Princess commanded.  “Now go.”

Keyop had never run faster.