A hail of bullets riddled the outer shields of the van and suddenly the team saw Cordell huffing down the steps. It all happened in slow motion. Guardians remained weaponless as bullets left chambers and more demon officers appeared out of thin air. Officers ducked behind cars, popping up to fire at Cordell. A stunned old man froze for two seconds too long in the crossfire. Carlos reached out, and then fell back as two-hundred-plus pounds of humanity landed in his lap.
"Thanks, young brother," Cordell said, breathing hard.
"You all right?"Carlos said, struggling to get up as Doug drove like a maniac.
"You get my father-seer? You get him!" Doug hollered from the front seat.
"I'm good, I'm good," Cordell said, crawling to a seat. "But lemme drive, boy. I can see 'round corners-you gonna get us kilt."
Choppers were in the air and sirens blared.
"This got real bad real fast," Rider said, going from window to window. "How do we know which ones are regular human cops and which are demons? Which ones do we shoot at, guys!"
"Now would be a good time to light up those stones that are on our side, ladies!" Berkfield shouted.
"We're going the wrong way!" the pearl screamed as her platinum necklace bounced out of Damali's toppled satchel and rolled across the van floor.
"No, no, no!" Cordell yelled, trying to get to the driver's seat. "You've panicked and lost your way, boy, not down that street!"
"The pentagram!" the pearl screamed and then stopped dead and went dark.
The moment the van crossed the threshold of the pentagram, the shield Carlos had put up to protect the vehicle disappeared. Blue tactical protective charges receded, leaving the van na**d and vulnerable.
Guardians hit the floor as steel tore through metal and shattered glass. Then the van dangerously swerved before jumping the curb and crashing into the side of a building. Cordell made it to the front and let out an agonized wail as he pulled Doug's head back only to see a bullet wound in the center of his forehead.
"Ah . . . nooo!" he wailed, clutching the young Guardian to his chest.
"We gotta move-now!" Carlos said,trying to help the old man out of the van as sirens neared.
Disoriented, the team spilled out into the street amid screaming, fleeing pedestrians in broad daylight-looking to Cordell for which way to run.
"We've gotta get out of the pentagram!" Carlos said, shaking the traumatized seer."Now!"
"Can't blow the van," Shabazz shouted-looking at the row of office buildings-"too much collateral damage."
"Choppers in the air," Damali said, beginning to run toward an underground Metro station."This way!" Then she turned back for a second."Pearl!"
"You have to leave her and energy-tag her to us later! We'll be sitting ducks underground, anyway!" Carlos hollered as they ran, pummeled the steps, and jumped the turnstiles. "We got no juice, D-none whatsoever!"
Commuters hugged the wall and backed away.
"Ladies, see what I see," Damali shouted, panting as she showed the stoneworkers on the team the cross-points and Meta-tron's Cube. "Light it up-magnetic-style." She turned to the male tactical squad members. "Bounce off them, electric-seeif we can get enough juice to get us out of the hot-zone. We gotta do this remotely, all second-sight, no hands."
Lights lit the tunnel and then a huge explosion sounded. The first car of the oncoming train broke away from its housing in the line and came barreling into the station, empty.
"Do it!" Damali shouted.
Carlos folded the team away into the rocketing bullet as it careened past in a blur, landing bodies with a thud on the floor, against seats, slamming poles and doors. But soon incredible heat surrounded the runaway Metro car and it became apparent that the source was right on their backs.
Thousands of miniature demons engulfed in flames chased the careening car like a blast furnace. Smoke filled the car, choking the Guardians, and every metal surface was like touching a frying pan. With no choice left, Carlos grabbed Damali's hand and pointed upward. They had to get up, had to break through the surface.
Opening the ground above them, they bulldozed to the asphalt surface, whizzing across streets, slamming through cars and traffic, moving like a missile as they skipped water on the Mall and came to a crashing thud in the manicured grass. Tactical charges cracked like thunder and lightning, keeping Guardians from colliding against the interior of the hot car. In an instant, Carlos and Damali had worked in tandem to extract the team to safety so they could breathe, but in the very near distance, sirens, choppers, and jets could be heard.
Damali held her head as Guardian messages pummeled her brain. "Local team is here-their seers led them," she said quickly, blasting the images to Carlos and her squad so they'd be sure not to accidentally fire on their own. "Michelle, team seer, one o'clock," she wheezed, whirring around, looking for the Georgia team. "Quick-military nicknamed and military trained, tactical. Three o'clock.Shaun, at your six, Carlos. Leone and Charlee are standing with Craig at your nine. And the two from Philly are in with a serious warrior from overseas, code named Dragon Rider. That brother, Craig, is with them.All our side, baby, and not civilians."
Carlos did a quick assessment of the additional squad who'd joined the fight. A honey-brown babe in ripped denim with bloodlust in her seer eyes was indeed standing at one o'clock and ready for war with an assault rifle cocked and loaded. Not far from her was a brown-skinned beauty, with hair in fiercely immaculate twists, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, dual handheld Uzis in her grip-straight gangsta, a fearless leader. The tall Amazon-built beauty at his six made him nod with appreciation. If there was anybody to have at his six, the sister with a pump shotgun loaded for bear was the one.
His attention whirled, making sure he had a mental lock on all those he'd have to account for and could count on. The petite sisters at his nine looked like they were ready to kick things off Ninja-style. One had an L.A. salsa vibe, her hazel eyes glittering with the rage he understood; her weapons of choice twin Berettas. The female beside her looked like a cross between Native American and African American, her long braids wound in silver strands and her exotic eyes spoiling for war as she brandished a nickel-plated nine.