I Am Number Four - Pittacus Lore Page 0,15

a priority-one request that I be allowed to send a more substantial amount of troops to the location where this video was shot: Niagara Falls. However . . .” He pauses for a few seconds. “High command has been slow to respond to requests for the last twenty-four hours. As you know, Beloved Leader is very busy at this moment.”

Hail our Beloved Leader! Forever may he reign!

The captain crosses his arms over his chest. “Now, if you do happen to run across the Loric while on this mission and they try to interfere, it would of course be your duty to take them out. And doing so would bring glory that would follow you for the rest of your life.”

My vision goes red. I hardly comprehend the rest of what the officers say. All I can think of is facing the Garde. Of taking out their leader, John Smith. How his arrogant face might look as my hands grip his neck.

And before I know it, the captain and reconnaissance officer are gone.

In half an hour, we’ve assembled and briefed our squads, loaded our Skimmers, and are flying towards Niagara Falls. I assign one of my men to pilot the craft while I triple-check our weapons and supplies, going over possible scenarios in my head. Once we’ve obtained the humans, should we delay our return? Wait around for the Loric to show? How long? And what if we’re not the first Mogadorians there. It sounded as though anyone could have picked up on this broadcast. If other squads from other warships show up trying to claim our targets, or take credit for killing the Garde . . .

How far do we go to ensure that victory belongs to our warship?

Or to my squad, for that matter?

“Vintaro,” one of my men says. It’s the newest member. I stare back at him. His nose is bruised and smashed from last night’s run-in. He tentatively adds, “Sir.”

“Speak,” I say.

“We will make Beloved Leader proud,” he says. “We’ll bring honor to our warship, and the captain will know that it was Vintaro Üshaba who led us to victory.”

He hits his chest with his fist and grunts. I return the gesture. My heart drums under my knuckles. All my life, this is what I’ve wanted. What any Mogadorian wants. To excel, and speed our progress across planets and stars.

“Four targets,” I remind him, and the others. “You’ve seen their faces. Lock them down, then find the possible Loralite deposit. Put a hole in the head of anyone else who dares stand against us.”

“We’re just a few minutes away,” the pilot calls back. “We should— Shit.”

“What?” I ask.

“One of the other Skimmers just hit their afterburners.”

I watch as our allies shoot ahead. Trying to be the first ones there, I’m sure. To claim the humans.

“Catch them!” I bark, and I can feel our acceleration in my guts.

I open up a comm line, reporting back to the warship.

“This is Vintaro Üshaba. We have no visual on the targets yet, but we’re approaching the—”

“Look!” the pilot shouts, bringing up a visual on-screen.

The other Skimmer is hovering above the side of a roaring river. Troops jump to the ground. There are humanoid figures in front of them, but we’re too far away to make out what’s happening clearly. As we get closer, though, it’s obvious these humans are fighting back. The other squad members are firing at them.

“Bastards!” I slam my fist against the back of one of the seats in our ship. “They’ll kill our targets! Get us—”

There’s a flash of some kind of red energy across our ship’s windshield.

“What the—,” the pilot starts, but the sound of the explosion and our hull ripping apart drowns out the rest of his words.

CHAPTER TEN

I’M BLOWN BACKWARDS, INTO THE REAR OF THE ship. Everything is rushing air, fire and ash around me.

Our pilot’s dead. So is the soldier who was sitting in the copilot’s seat. It’s difficult to see what happened exactly, with the thick, black smoke filling the cabin; but it’s obvious they’re gone.

And that we’re falling.

I lunge forward and hit a few buttons, enacting some emergency protocols. For what it’s worth. The Skimmer rotates as it drops, but I manage to get us evened out enough so that when we hit the ground, crashing into a wooded area near the falls, we’re right-side up.

It’s only once we’ve stopped skidding and the smoke starts to clear that I can assess the damage.

Getting to my feet, I realize my left wrist