Kicking Bots

By Vijaya Schartz

Kicking Botts. It's a five-hearts - rated very sensual from Xion who says:

"I really enjoyed this book. Even though I hadn't read the previous two... I have always been interested in the mysterious disappearance of the Anasazi and this story nicely filled in the blanks... Melissa was a very believable character, proving the old adage that absolute power corrupts absolutely... Sevastian, on the other hand, had to come to grips with the fact that he did not always have to be the one in total control of any situation... exceptionally well written. I am definitely going to have to find the previous books and check them out as well."

"Ms. Schartz has created a fast paced romance with just the right amount of action that will hold the reader’s desire to find out what will happen next. I couldn’t put the book down until I finished it." Fallen Angel Reviews about book One, Anaz-voohri - 5 angels
"If you like thrillers spiced with romance then you will adore this stimulating series." eCataRomance Reviews - 4 1/2 Stars
"Author Vijaya Schartz writes an entrancing tale filled with action-packed adventure, danger at every turn, and a romance all rolled up into a neat little package. Oh boy, is it captivating." Romance Reviews Today about Relics.
"This is one series that futuristic fans will not want to miss." Romance Junkies about this series - 4-stars

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Feb 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781926965536

Vijaya Schartz

Born in France, award-winning author Vijaya Schartz never conformed to anything and could never refuse a challenge. She likes action and exotic settings, in life and on the page. She traveled the world and claims she comes from the future. Her books collected many five star reviews and literary awards. She makes you believe you actually lived these extraordinary adventures among her characters. Her stories have been compared to Indiana Jones with sizzling romance. So, go ahead, dare to experience the magic, and she will keep you entranced, turning the pages until the last line. Find more at http://www.vijayaschartz.com

Book preview

Kicking Bots

Ancient Enemy, Book 3

By Vijaya Schartz

DIGITAL ISBNs

WEB 978-1-77362-369-6

MOBI 978-1-77362-370-2

EPUB 978-1-77362-371-9

PRINT 978-1-77362-368-9

Copyright 2015 2nd Ed. by Vijaya Schartz

Cover Art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stores in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Chapter One

San Francisco, November 2023

This couldn’t be right. Stunned by her discovery, Dr. Melissa Campbell strained her eyes on the large plasma monitor of her office. On the screen, the deadly virus refused to attack the blood cells. After testing thousands, she’d just found the only subject immune to the alien plague. Herself!

Confused, Melissa looked up to gaze through the twenty-fifth floor window, oblivious to the breathtaking view. The lights came on along the Golden Gate Bridge. Dusk had fallen while she worked, and riot fires glowed red in the streets below. Within the hour, the military would disperse the rioters with guns, tanks and tear gas. Quite a different Thanksgiving from last year.

But Melissa had to focus. How did she become immune? Despite sterile rooms and bio-suits, two of her aides had contracted the disease and died. Better than the alternative... Melissa shivered at the idea of becoming an alien hybrid.

The next questions in her scientific mind came quickly. Why was she immune? And how many others might there be?

Feverishly, Melissa fished her epad out of her white coat pocket and dialed the private line of General Markov, in charge of the Global Security Sector. It was much later in his part of the world, so she set the call to sound only to respect his privacy.

General Markov answered the first ring.

Sorry to bother you at home, General, but I have great news. Melissa’s heart beat faster.

What is it? The general sounded condescending, as usual.

Melissa had an aversion to military types, one-track minds with no tolerance or imagination. I found a human subject immune to the virus. She had to slow down and catch her breath.

At the end of the line, General Markov remained oddly silent.

Did she have to explain? As soon as I confirm the findings, we will be able to manufacture the vaccine, and I know exactly how to disperse the cure. Isn’t that wonderful?

Indeed, Dr. Campbell. Good work. The general’s enthusiasm sounded forced. Where are you now, Doctor? And who is that immune subject?

Not exactly the warm reception Melissa had expected. The man’s curt inquisitive tone made her uncomfortable. Something in her gut twisted. A warning came up in her mind. Since childhood, Melissa had learned to trust her instincts about people.

The slides are anonymous. She lied. I am back at the hotel. It’s past curfew here. I’ll send you the information from the lab first thing in the morning. She’d bought herself a few hours.

Tomorrow morning? The general cleared his throat. Send me a substantial sample for our headquarters on the first flight out of San Francisco.

First flight, I promise. Melissa faked a yawn. I’m so exhausted I’m about to pass out. Good night, General.

As she severed the call, although she couldn’t say how or why, Melissa knew that General Markov had a dark agenda. But she could never tell anyone about such suspicions without proof. And proof she didn’t have.

Melissa realized that if her blood held natural antibodies to the disease, she could become the pawn of those who wanted to appropriate the vaccine for selfish ends. Since the rumors of hybrid infiltration, she couldn’t trust the military or the many government factions. She also had to worry about terrorists, power-hungry despots, even greedy pharmaceutical corporations. In such chaotic times, they would go to extremes in order to own her and the cure.

Melissa couldn’t let that happen. She had sworn the Hippocratic Oath. She would cure the sick without distinction of nationality, or social status. But for that, she needed help, and she had an idea about where to get it.

She Googled then dialed the number for Haephaeon Technologies on her epad. Lawson Archer, the head of the private biotech lab, had managed to remain neutral, and free from government control, despite his anti-alien weapon’s research. He had a reputation of unswerving integrity. He’d know how to deal with Melissa’s dilemma. From one scientist to another, a small favor in troubled times...

The offices had already closed in New York, and the automatic responder only offered a secure message line. What did she expect with three time zones in between? Trusting Haephaeon’s high standards of privacy, Melissa left a short statement explaining her situation. She hoped Lawson Archer would get back to her soon.

Her white lie to General Markov had only bought her one night of freedom, and she had to make the most of it. First, she had to draw blood. Steeling herself against the dreaded needle, she sat in her desk chair, pulled up the sleeve of her lab coat, adjusted the elastic band on her upper arm and pumped the pressure, making a fist.

She usually averted her eyes when she gave blood. To draw it herself, however, she really had to look. She winced at the prick of the needle but punctured the vein on the first try. Opening and closing her hand, she waited for the plastic bag to fill.

With her free hand, Melissa pulled a few energy bars out of her drawer. Good thing she kept them on hand. She would need to stay awake and work through the night.

As the bag filled slowly, she accessed the roof camera from her computer. Good, the Air Evac helicopter was still here. Pulling out the epad from her breast pocket with her free hand, she dialed the building security desk. Could you ask the Air Evac pilot to call me?

Certainly, Dr. Campbell.

Logging onto the local weather website, Melissa checked for atmospheric conditions. Cloudy, light wind, no rain. Perfect. She dialed her home in Atlanta and called softly, Nanobot? Are you awake?

The furry face of a young cat, a slick silvery blue Russian breed, filled the screen in the soft light of her living-room. His round, dark eyes stared at her from the screen and his loud purr came through the speakers. He never failed to respond to Melissa’s voice.

Pushing down the guilt of leaving the kitten alone, Melissa smiled for her pet. Hey, Nanobot. Mommy will be home soon. This job is almost done. I promise you a tuna feast to celebrate when I get back.

Nanobot stared at Melissa through the camera, pawing the screen at his end.

The epad chimed and Melissa picked up.

The face of a young man appeared on the tiny screen. Dr. Campbell? I’m Peter, the helicopter pilot.

Hi, Peter. I have a special delivery for you later on tonight.

His eyebrows shot up in surprised. I’m not allowed to fly after curfew. I could lose my license.

Well... Melissa felt guilty about asking, but she must. We may have to break a few rules but I’ll take full responsibility. Is that a problem?

Peter hesitated. For you to ask, it must be important.

This very special flight could save the whole city of San Francisco from the plague. Melissa couldn’t force the man but focused on persuading him. Millions of lives, Peter.

You mean, you have the vaccine? Peter shouted with enthusiasm, his grin filling the small screen. In that case, how can I refuse?

Melissa sighed with gratitude. Thank you, Peter. I appreciate your loyalty. You are an angel.

I wouldn’t go that far. Peter chuckled with embarrassment. Just call me when you are ready.

Melissa severed the communication, grateful for the dedication of the people who worked with her, despite the fact that she’d come from Atlanta to supervise the research. She would recommend Peter for a promotion.

Nanobot mewed on her laptop screen.

Sorry, sweetheart. Mommy has to go back to work. See you soon, honey. She blew the cat a kiss and severed the call.

Disconnecting the needle in her arm, she swabbed the pinprick, applied a liquid band-aid then took the bag to the elevator. She punched the first floor, where she could use the DNA replicator to make synthetic antibodies.

Good thing Melissa had requested special equipment weeks ago. The military and the politicians above her remained doubtful about this untried mode of delivery, but she had thrown her weight as head of the department to obtain the machines. Her stubborn attitude had paid off.

Now she could manufacture the vaccine and fill the tanks with the mix of water and vaccine. Even chilled and compressed, she would need at least five of the hefty bottles to cover the whole area around the bay.

The mist would spread the vaccine over the city. It would remain in suspension in the air for two or three days before dissipating. That was her plan.

*****

Bennett Sevastian enjoyed the steamy shower in his luxury suite at the San Francisco Clift. Not just the hot water running down his bulging muscles, but the sweet ministrations of the two hot babes lathering his body with lavender soap.

Not exactly your daily supersoldier fare, but his boss insisted Bennett should relax and get laid, so he wouldn’t be so high-strung. And Bennett always followed orders.

His Irish mother, God bless her soul, would threaten him with hell if she could see him right now. But she’d died of the plague three months back. As for his Russian gambler of a father, he would have approved of the two silicone-enhanced blondes with a no-line tan. The girls looked like twin Barbie dolls, the perfect complement to Bennett’s GI Joe physique.

The marble shower stall, spacious enough for three, had gold plumbing and a comfortable bench for the girls to sit while they stroked his engorged gun. One stood up and applied her naked body to his back, fondling him between the thighs. Bennett tensed and shivered under the caress despite the steamy heat.

He felt the hard breasts of the girl sitting in front of him, then, on impulse, he took her head in both hands and coaxed her into taking him into her mouth. She was a pro and she took him deep. Her nimble tongue teased his member until he couldn’t hold it anymore. He shuddered when a hot wave overcame him then he let go with a tremulous roar.

The naked girl at his back came to the fore and lay on the bench with her legs wide open. She was totally shaved. What about me, big guy?

Immediately aroused again, Bennett took one girl over his shoulder, the other under one arm, and walked out of the marble bathroom, dripping onto the white carpet on his way to the luxurious bed and its mirrored headboard.

He threw one girl onto the red satin sheets, swept away a pile of graphic novels then deposited the other girl on the bed as well. I’ll be glad to oblige both of you. Nothing like California life to ease the stress of Bot warfare.

Bots. Most officials didn’t approve of his derogatory nickname for the Anaz-voohri. Who wanted to be politically correct when it came to a deadly enemy? Not Bennett. Demeaning them by calling them machines suited him just fine.

But right now, he had two girls to satisfy. On his third gratification, or was it the fourth? the chime of his epad caught him in the throes of heavenly bliss. He recognized Archer's dedicated ring.

Shit! Bennett sat up on the bed, cooled off with one deep breath then picked up the call.

Aries? This is Zeus. Archer always insisted they used code names.

One girl ran her fingers up Bennett’s inner thigh and giggled as he hardened. Bennett motioned both to remain silent. This is Aries. What’s up?

Dr. Melissa Campbell, the charge I sent you to investigate, just called. She is manufacturing the vaccine for the plague as we speak, and she needs protection tonight.

Now? Bennett frowned at the two girls in his bed. Where?

She plans to spread the vaccine over San Francisco Bay from a helicopter.

During the curfew? Has she lost her mind?

Archer chuckled. What can I say, she is one of those creative scientists. She doesn’t abide by military rules.

Bloody hell! I’m on it. Bennett closed the epad then leapt off the bed, searching for his boxers, under the puzzled stare of his two playmates. As he pulled up his drawers, he attempted an apologetic smile. I’d love to stay, ladies, but my R&R is over. Duty calls. Since it’s curfew, enjoy the room until morning while I’m out.

They both frowned with a disappointed sigh. Furrowing into the pockets of his pants left on a chair, Bennett pulled out a handful of folded bills, eliciting wide smiles.

It’s been a pleasure. Order room service on me. He closed the bedroom door on his way out.

Going to the closet, Bennett retrieved his night combat equipment and geared up, all the while thinking of a stratagem to distract the sentinels at the hotel door.

*****

Melissa exhaled a sigh of relief as she changed from her lab scrubs to her civilian clothes and white coat. Scrubs and sneakers never left the clean room. She’d replicated enough antibodies and prepared samples for all the major labs she could think of, whether private, government owned, or military. Now, the machines filled the large tanks under pressure. Melissa had manually filled a dozen small aerosol containers as well and packed them into a metal crate.

Now she wheeled crate and samples toward the mail room. Once there, she addressed the shipment to General Markov at the GSS headquarters in Toronto with an urgent delivery sticker and her signature. She attached a note to dispatch the crate on the first morning flight. The early mail shift would hate her for the extra work.

Melissa called Peter on her epad. I have five large tanks ready, but I’ll need some help to get them to the roof.

How big?

Six feet long, one foot in diameter. They probably weigh five hundred pounds each, but they have wheels.

Five of them? That’s kind of heavy and highly illegal. On the small screen, Peter raked his dark hair. Do they have to stay upright?

No. It’s mainly water.

Good. That makes it easier. He waved. I’ll be right there.

Melissa felt a little silly. She had people to do the menial tasks of handling heavy loads and never learned to use the loading robot. Thank God for Peter’s expertise, or all her efforts might have been for nothing.

When Peter activated the robot, she watched him closely, so next time, she could do it herself. One by one, Peter loaded the heavy bottles and placed them horizontally on a pallet, then he lashed them together and lifted the pallet with the small robotic forklift. As he eased the machine into the freight elevator, Melissa walked in behind the vehicle and rode with Peter to the rooftop.

As she emerged in the chilly November night, she regretted not taking a jacket. With her white designer dress under the lab coat and high-heel sandals showing her manicured toes, she felt a little overdressed for the task, but she didn’t have a change of clothes. Not that she owned any casual clothing. Lucky enough to be tall and slim, Melissa always dressed like a fashion model.

Will the breeze be a problem? Peter drove the forklift toward the helicopter parked on the painted logo marking the center of the flat roof.

Excitement made Melissa’s heart beat faster as she hurried beside him. The breeze is fine, it actually helps. As long as it doesn’t rain.

Could it be that simple to eradicate a deadly plague? For so many weeks she’d felt discouraged. Now she could almost taste victory. A superstitious person would cross her fingers, but Melissa didn’t believe in luck, good or bad. She made her own destiny, and tonight, with Peter’s help, she would save San Francisco, then the rest of the world, one city at a time.

Using the loading equipment with astonishing efficiency, Peter set the long, unwieldy containers across the helicopter’s open platform, in the space usually reserved for gurneys. Melissa noticed that he secured the tanks in place with the nozzle sticking out the edge of the open door frame. Good thinking.

Peter secured the load then jumped off the helicopter. We’ll just have to leave that sliding door open.

Sometimes, Melissa wished she knew a little more about practical matters. But these days, she only had time for research, nothing else, not even a personal life. 2023 had been a nightmare in the biological warfare department.

Then Peter backed up the forklift to the side of the elevator, dismounted and returned at a run. Pulling a large epad out of the cockpit, he showed the map display to Melissa. What route should we take? And how high?

Higher altitude allows for wider dissemination. Melissa stared at the map of the bay area and pointed at the city. A wide circle over San Francisco first, then south around the bay and hopefully we’ll have enough to spray the whole periphery, east and north as well.

Got it. Peter slipped the epad into his overall pocket. Get in. I’ll start the engine.

Melissa had to lift her dress, too narrow to climb onto the helicopter platform. At least, her sandals had tight ankle straps and would not slip off her feet. She considered the nozzles. She hadn’t used such a tank since her days as a medical student. It seemed like an eternity ago To open the gas, I just turn the wheel clockwise, right?

Right. Peter, in the pilot seat, flipped switches. You may want to strap yourself. I’d don’t want you to fall to your death through that open door.

The rotors began to move, slowly at first, eliciting a strong wind and shaking the whole chopper. Melissa found a harness at the end of a short line sliding on a high horizontal bar. She secured the harness around her waist then knelt on the floor, ready to open the valve of the first tank.

Hold on, Peter yelled over the rotor noise. Here we go.

The helicopter lifted then banked between tall buildings. Melissa suddenly remembered with dread her fear of heights. But she couldn’t fail now. Struggling to keep her balance, even on her knees, she avoided looking down through the gaping door. Eyes to the floor, she reached for the closest tank and opened the valve completely. The goal wasn’t to save the vaccine, but to disperse it as far and wide as possible in the shortest amount of time.

It took less than five minutes to empty the first tank. Great satisfaction flooded Melissa. She almost forgot her fears. As she opened the second tank, however, she noticed a military helicopter flying alongside.

Return to base immediately, the military pilot yelled through its crowd control speakers. This flight wasn’t authorized. No medical bird is allowed in the air during curfew. This is a warning. Desist immediately.

Melissa could see the back of Peter's neck sweating despite the chill. He managed to remain on course and pushed a button on his helmet to transmit back. This is an emergency rescue mission for the Center for Disease Control, authorized by Dr. Melissa Campbell. The Department Head is personally on board.

I don’t care if you have the president of the freaking United States on Board. This flight is not authorized. The military voice sounded louder. Return to base immediately or we have orders to shoot you down.

Listen, man, we have the vaccine to the virus, and we are saving your necks out here, so don’t interfere, okay? Peter sounded very convincing. Millions of lives are at stakes, and we can’t wait until morning, so let us do our job.

Melissa could see the pilot of the other chopper calling on his radio. He nodded. Negative, my orders are to stand firm.

Peter shut off his communication and yelled to Melissa, No sense talking to these guys. Hang on. It’s going to get bumpy.

Would he try to lose them? Melissa didn’t get a chance to protest. The helicopter banked and dipped, and she held on to the bulkhead in a white knuckle grip. She couldn’t believe these soldiers wouldn’t let her save the city. What was wrong with humanity?

But Peter seemed just as determined to complete this humanitarian mission. He even appeared to enjoy the chase. Shots exploded and orange streaks zipped through the night around the chopper. How dare the stupid soldiers shoot at them? Since Peter seemed confident he could evade them, Melissa checked the gage of the second tank. Almost empty. She loosened the wheel on the third bottle, listening to the hiss of escaping mist.

Peter struggled to stay on course, plunging, rising and banking in odd patterns to avoid the line of fire of the other bird. According to the map, Melissa should have enough vaccine to cover the entire Bay Area, if only the military would let them finish the job.

When a second army helicopter joined the first, Melissa shouted to Peter, Are you sure you want to continue?

Peter gave her a thumbs-up and nodded. Melissa could swear he was smiling, even though she could only see the back of his helmet. He definitely enjoyed the dangerous game. Men!

The thought that they might be shot down, even killed, crossed Melissa’s mind, but she had a mission to complete. In the morning, she would probably have to flee to a safe place, and this was her only chance to save San Francisco and remain a free women. As the only one with antibodies in her blood, she had responsibilities. As soon as others found out about her, she’d become a fugitive, a prized target for the rich and the powerful.

Hanging on for balance, Melissa opened the last tank. The chopper flew erratically but she felt a sudden change. Had the military given up the chase? They seemed to be shooting at something else.

As she rose, holding on to a ceiling strap, Melissa looked up and shivered. Piercing the clouds above, strange orange Straub-lights shimmered. Something shot from the bay, electrified the sky and revealed a dozen golden vessels with strange ridges and markings that had dropped unseen through the cloud cover. Alien ships!

Lightning surged from these vessels. The sky exploded with the roar of many fighting jets attacking the vessels like bees stinging with explosive darts. So that was the elusive Anaz-voohri… the alien race that wanted to annihilate humanity.

Soon artillery from the military ships in the harbor showered the alien vessels with missiles, but an invisible cocoon seemed to envelop the alien fleet. The military projectiles exploded harmlessly on the protective shell.

The vessels responded with sizzling lightning strikes, illuminating the night sky. Fighter planes burst into flames and fell. Then an orange flare, shot from down below, spread across the sky like the northern lights. The cocoon around the Anaz-voohri vessels dissolved. The top gun shots now hit their hulls.

The helicopter shook, sending Melissa flying through the open door at the end of her tether. As she heaved herself onto the landing blades, a thick cloud of smoke surged from the helicopter tail.

May Day! May Day! Peter shouted. We’re hit. He extracted himself from his seat. We have to jump while this bird is still moving forward. Otherwise, when it goes down, the blades will get us.

Jump? Melissa realized she was strapped to the crippled helicopter. Peter joined her on the landing blade and, maintaining a precarious