Project Perses: Redemption

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Thirty Nine

“I’m never going to forgive you for shooting me.”  I say, giving Li the fish eye while picking a piece of lint off of the hoodie I’m wearing.  I’ve got the hood pulled low over my face so no one on the subway train can really see my features.  Alia is cuddled close to my chest, snoozing away.

Li looks at me like she could care less, matching my move by pulling the hat she is wearing lower on her head. “And after everything we’ve been through, you think I care, why?”

I smile under my breath since it's obvious she knows I'm joking. “Because you’re sorry that you ‘had’ to do it?”

She says nothing, just shifts the large bohemian purse she has on her lap a little, concealing the guns and my rubberized suit she has hidden inside.  Her eyes travel to Alia, and then she murmurs as if thinking better of it, “If you’d seen yourself from a distance, you’d understand.”

Looking around, my eyes rest on a guy sitting next to Li who’s reading a tablet.  The screen screams, “Counterterrorism Terror Attack!”  I gaze over the pictures he’s scrolling through, most are grainy, but there are a few that are pretty damn good and catch the action.  It’s been less than an hour since we’d left the confines of 633 3rd Avenue and already it’s all over the internet.

The media was having a field day and I had no doubt that later I actually would get to see myself in action as soon as I turned on a TV.  Frankly I’m looking forward to getting in some boob tube time, because I’d like to see how good they’ve put the pieces together.

I close my eyes and think back to everything that had happened.  I had turned back to the falling helicopter just in time, but between my injuries and the exhaustion I was feeling from expending so much energy in the effort to terrorize Mitchell, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to handle it.

Limping forward as best as I could, my leg biting me with every step, I positioned myself right under the NYPD chopper and threw everything I had into it kinetically to get it to stop.  Head and arms raised to the sky, my hands flung up against it, I pushed with every ounce of strength I had left, my arms shaking in protest, my head throbbing, sweat breaking out on my forehead. 

The tilt of the chopper was enough for me to clearly see the men inside, all bracing for a crash. The pilot must have felt the sudden change in momentum because I saw him flipping switches inside the cockpit, turning off the rotors while taking quick glances out of the cockpit’s side window at me.

The man in the cargo area was the one most in danger. With the door wide open, he was anchoring his feet against the door frame while struggling to hold onto the straps hanging from the ceiling.  His eyes were wide with terror as he looked down at the rooftop. 

What he thought, I could only imagine, but what I saw in his face was something like recognition.  Recognition for what I was attempting to do maybe?  I wasn’t sure, but as I struggled to hold my place, legs quivering from the stress, blood starting to drip from my nose, I knew I was losing this battle fast.

Another news chopper buzzed past the roof preempting me to take a chance. I couldn’t hold it much longer. Their landing might be rough but at least they’d be alive.  I took a tentative step back, then two while invisibly pulling the machine with me.  Step by step we moved in unison until we had cleared the escape helicopter and the area under them was free of dangers.

Without further delay, I shouted up to the men inside, hoping they could actually hear me. Telling them to brace, I release the immense bulk, it falling some twenty or so feet to land with a tremendous thud on the building’s surface below.