Freedom TM

ran to assist. Ross turned his pointer to them, and each time he brought it to bear, they quickly stopped what they were doing and fled several yards.
    “Sheriff, do you know how to use your pointer?”
    He was already pulling his haptic glove on. “Hell,
everyone
does.…”
    In a few moments other rays of energy were zapping down from above, and the soldiers were scurrying around like ants under a magnifying glass. It didn’t take long for dozens more darknet members behind sandbags and shutters to join in.
    Nor did it take long for the mercenaries to focus their gunfire up at the distant mirror balls that were raining down terror upon them. Tracer bullets started spraying skyward. But the devices were apparently more distant than they seemed, or durable. And even though one eventually did falter, wobble, and spin out of control into the streets below. There were many more of them.
    In minutes the soldiers were fleeing their positions. Even soldiers in windows weren’t safe—the array of mirror balls always seemed to provide a vector that could zap them. They pulled back into the shadows.
    Meanwhile the sheriff showed the intensity of an all-night gamer. “Fry, you bastards!”
    The Merritt avatar stood apparently observing the action.
“Enemy force, you may not leave this area. You must surrender. If you lay down your weapons and surrender you will not be harmed.”
    The remote turrets of the nearest ASV were spraying the buildings as the soldiers retreated by the dozen down the streets—unable to find cover because they’d destroyed every structure between here and the edge of town.
    Ross and the sheriff focused on the firing ASV, and they saw many other pointers do likewise—clustered on its engine vents, or big rubber tires. Burning rays of heat fried airborne smoke particles on the way down their target, and before long the engine compartment on the vehicle began to smoke.
    The sheriff stared intently at it. “God help you when you get out of that thing, you sons a bitches.…”
    Now more than a few soldiers were kneeling in various places in the street, their arms raised. Several assault rifles were lying on the pavement. One of the retreating soldiers opened fire on them, cutting several down before they got involved in a firefight among themselves. They, too, were quickly subdued, and to Ross’s amazement, he was soon looking at a staggered array of kneeling mercenaries extending down the street.
    The other ASVs in town were roaring back where they came from, soldiers trying to grab on.
    Merritt shouted again.
“You may not leave. You will be stopped if you try to leave. Surrender!”
    There no longer appeared to be any resisting soldiers in view. The enemy was in full retreat. Ross couldn’t help but smile at the apparition of Roy Merritt standing firm in the public square.
    Ross turned to the sheriff, who was now leaning back against the pillar.
    “About that bleeding. I think I’m gonna need a doctor, after all.…”

Chapter 33: // Epic Fail
    Central_news.com
    Insurgent Reprisals Against Civilians —In a disturbing development, terrorists in Midwestern states have taken to burning entire towns in retaliation for resistance by hometown militias. Officials speaking on condition of anonymity were confident that martial law would be expanded to bordering states to halt the spread of the fighting , and that private security forces would be given an expanded role.
    Major, something powerful came out of the darknet—something we could not have anticipated.” The Major walked briskly toward a private Gulfstream V jet—one he had recently acquired. A knot of uniformed private military officers followed him.
    “This is a colossal intelligence failure, Colonel. I was told these communities had no significant weaponry or defenses, and we developed our force posture from that assessment. Now I’ve got a client who, instead of facing a compliant population after the crash, might be facing a general uprising.”
    “Ag, they didn’t have significant weapon systems when the assessment was done.”
    “Sobol was devilishly clever. Perhaps too clever. Now we’ll have to come back and bloody carpet bomb these towns from the stratosphere.”
    The Major shook his head. “Sobol wasn’t behind this.”
    “What do you mean, Major? Of course he was: it’s the Daemon.”
    The Major stopped at the foot of the jet stairway. “Roy Merritt has become a folk hero to the darknet community. Why—who the