Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle

by Lackey, Mercedes

CHAPTER TWENTY

  * * *

  O Fortuna Part 2

  Mercedes Lackey, Dennis Lee and Veronica Giguere

  Vickie told me once that the real strength of ECHO was that every man, woman, and child in it knew they could count on each other. I was about to see that in action.

  Bulwark took the steps two at a time as he raced down the spiral staircase to the dungeons. He wondered idly if this was a good time to attempt another kinetic field experiment, one he had dubbed the “Slippery Pinball.” He had a brief image of himself careening down the concrete spiral, enveloped in his bubble, powered only by gravity, and bouncing right back up the stairs again when he hit bottom. Bad idea.

  He arrived at the bottom with a heavy crash, his augmented mass crumbling some of the concrete beneath his feet. Sometimes he forgot how much he now weighed. The on-duty guard stared at him, astonished. Bull grunted as he pushed him aside and ran down the corridor, bypassing the minimum security wings and heading directly for Top Hold. He had another idle thought. Why in the world did we name the deepest part of our dungeon Top Hold?

  Pull yourself together, Gairdner. This isn’t the time to lose focus.

  Despite it all, even he had trouble blaming himself for being a little frazzled. It had been a strange day. It had started like any other, he supposed. Wake up, wonder what he was going to do about the Djinni, brush teeth, wonder what he was going to do about the Djinni, get dressed, eat a bagel, watch footage from the Vault heist, wonder what he was going to do about the Djinni…then watch in consternation as Victrix’s line went dead and moments later, a full hostage scenario erupt at the memorial which held in attendance seventy-three-thousand-plus innocent citizens of Atlanta, a scattering of CCCP metas and most of his ECHO friends and colleagues, including his love and commander-in-chief, Bella.

  At least it cemented in his mind what he was going to do about the Djinni. The situation at the stadium required his full attention, but he knew they couldn’t afford to lose Victrix. Victrix was, in essence, the backbone of their current regime. If pressed, Bulwark would have admitted there was no one, no single person, more important in the ECHO roster right now than Victoria Victrix. From a home office no larger than a standard bedroom, perhaps sixteen by twenty feet, Victrix ran the heart of ECHO communications. She was their eyes and ears, and her net went wide, locally and on a global scale. There was little that could escape her notice, and that didn’t even take her arcane abilities into account. She had been their ace in the hole from the start, and now the unthinkable had happened. Her line had gone dead. You had to know Victoria Victrix to realize the enormity of it. These days, she barely slept. She kept her own implanted communications gear on every minute of every day. She pushed herself to the extreme limits to be on call, at the helm, ready to tackle any emergency with swift and exacting countermeasures. For her line to suddenly go dead, it could only mean one of two things: she had been taken, or she had died. If it was the latter, it would become another impossible obstacle they would somehow have to overcome. If the former…Bulwark needed to send the best tracker he had after her.

  But can I trust him?

  He didn’t have much choice in the matter. Maybe he couldn’t trust Red, but he could trust Red’s friendship with Victrix. After that, he just didn’t know. He had been proven wrong about the Djinni before, and it said something that Red always did what he set out to do, always saw things through to the end, and he usually came back. And he looked out for his friends.

  Is Red your friend?

  Bella’s words had haunted him ever since she had stormed out of the command center. It wasn’t something he was prepared to answer just yet. It had never felt right to consider Red Djinni as a friend. He was more the brother, the black sheep, the one who could drag the whole family down in some sordid mess but God help him, he was still family. You stuck by your family, right to the end. And if another member of your family was in trouble, you knew everyone could be counted on, even Red Djinni, to help out. No matter what else stood in between, be it money, jealousy, long-standing feuds, shared romantic interests in the same woman…when someone you cared about was in danger, you took action. He trusted that the Djinni would act and would see it through.

  As he rounded the last corner before the Djinni’s cell, Bulwark came to a screeching stop as he heard the pounding of footsteps coming from both sides of him. Red Djinni’s cell marked the fourth intersection from the entrance to Top Hold, at the core of a web of passageways leading to cells designed to hold the most powerful of metahumans. Red’s cell was considered minimal security by Top Hold standards. It didn’t require much in the way of space or special consideration, and was little more than a janitor’s closet folded into the layout of other, more specialized, containment areas. It was still Top Hold though, and despite all his experience, Bull could see no way for Red to pick his way out of this particular jail cell. He would need assistance from the outside, and as Bulwark skidded to a stop, he deduced he wasn’t the only one who had shared that particular thought. At the cell door, he caught a surprised look from Mel, glancing from him and down the other connecting passages. From the left passage, he saw two figures bearing down on him, a short stocky man followed by a lithe woman fully armed with dual semiautomatics and shimmering in the dim light with an array of knives protruding from her belt, her boots and a tight sash that clung to her torso. Sometimes Bull’s instincts surprised him. Both of them were known affiliates of Verdigris, yet a part of him trusted them. In hindsight, Bull realized that Jack had little if anything to do with Tesla’s death, and had been just as surprised by Harmony’s treachery as any of them. Red Djinni clearly trusted the man, which was why he was here, Bull supposed, breaking into ECHO’s highest security prison facility, to break the Djinni out. As for the woman, Bella had told him about Khanjar, about how she was working to give them inside information on Verd and Blacksnake. How, in fact, she had alerted them on several smaller efforts on Verd’s part that they had been able to thwart.

  “Ah, the Bulwark,” Khanjar said, as she stared at him hard for a moment. “What brings you here at this moment? It is…somewhat inopportune.” She blinked. “I don’t suppose you would believe me if I informed you that I was aware that Verdigris was going to do something, but not what and where?”

  Bull didn’t answer, he was instead staring to his right. Two more figures had come to a stop from the other passageway, one looking uncomfortable, even a little ashamed, the other sporting a wide, flashing grin.

  “Well,” Harmony said, edging in front of a nervous-looking Scope, “isn’t this just cozy?”

  “Just for my benefit, tell me how you got out of your cell, Harmony,” Bulwark said.

  “One of a hundred ways, Mr. Bulwark, sir!” Harmony answered, clicking her heels together in a sharp salute. “You didn’t really think I could be held, did you? Not if I didn’t want to be.”

  “I suppose not,” Bull said, nodding. “Mostly, I just wanted to know if Paris let you out.”

  “It didn’t come to that,” Harmony said, as Scope seemed to shrink behind her. “But I think we both know I could have convinced her to, if need be.”

  “Right, great,” Jack said, interrupting. “You two look like you have real important things to discuss. I don’t suppose you’d care to move off the beaten track a ways and cut each other to ribbons in private? Got an appointment to keep with the Djinni here.”

  “You here to gut him?” Scope asked in a small voice. “To finish the job your guns couldn’t, back in the Vault?”

  “You know what you all can do?” Mel said, reaching for her sidearm. “You can all back away, No one’s hurting Red, not today.”

  “I think you’ve got it wrong, Ms. Gautier,” Bull said. “I think, strangely enough, we’re all here for the same reason. We’re all here to spring Red from that cell. I can guess at Jack’s reasons, but I admit I’m entirely unclear as to why Harmony would want the same.”

  “Last piece of unfinished business,”
Harmony said with a shrug. “A final obligation to fulfill before I go my merry way.”

  “Never going to happen,” Bulwark growled. “You will return to your cell, even if I have to empty every sidearm within reach into your brain pan.”

  “Wait, what do you mean you’re here to free Red?” Mel asked, her hand still gripping her piece. “Why would any of you want that?”

  Bull cut her off with an abrupt shake of his head and an angry glare. Those who knew him—Mel, Scope and Harmony—reacted with a start. Because he never showed emotions. He knew he was the original Great Stone Face. The momentary expression of frustration and rage took them all by surprise, enough to shut them up.

  But guns were already out, and aimed. Khanjar’s were covering Mel. Jack’s were centered on Bulwark. Scope’s were on Jack, Mel’s were on Khanjar, though they drifted back to Harmony. Of all of them, Harmony stood at ease, smirking at all of them. She shivered, as if overcome by vibrant torrents of emotion.

  “Oh, this is delicious,” she sighed. “Gourmet, yum. There’s even a hint of…” Harmony froze, tilted her head as if straining to listen, and doubled over in laughter. “Oh my word…that is priceless! I think I’ll have to let it play out. It’s too delicious not to let it run its course.”

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Jack growled. “If we’re all here to free Red, who cares what our individual reasons are, let’s just get it done.”

  “And who’s to say he wants out?” Mel asked. “Have any of you even asked him what he wants?”

  “Of course he wants out!” Jack scoffed. “How well do you think you know him, lady? The Djinni I know would never want to be stuck in a cell!”

  “You might want to rethink that, Jack,” Harmony said sweetly, still chuckling. “I haven’t felt anything from the Djinni even remotely close to that of a caged rat.”

  They continued to bicker, but Bull ignored them. Instead, he watched the flickering monitor next to the cell door. Red Djinni hadn’t noticed the sudden drama that erupted outside his cell, or if he had, he hadn’t cared. He had one hand pressed against his ear as if he was trying to hear something from his implanted microphone, and he was yelling. Pushing Mel aside roughly, Bull moved past her and jammed his thumb against the intercom, and suddenly they heard Red shouting.

  “…hell you go? Victrix! VICTRIX! Answer me, dammit!”

  “She’s gone, Red!” Bulwark boomed. “Her line went dead! I need you to get to her apartment and suss this out! If she’s disappeared, find her. Are you good to go?”

  Red stopped, and stared back at Bull through the interface. His hands dropped slowly to his sides, and Bulwark felt a sudden chill as Red dropped out of view for a moment.

  “Wow,” Harmony gasped. “Now there’s something you don’t feel every day.”

  Bull gave her a curious look and stepped back in surprise as the cell door opened with a steely rasp. Red emerged, gripping his food tray and tossing it aside with a loud clatter on the cold concrete. Instinctively, Bulwark glanced at the monitor, which flashed acceptance of a recognized fingerprint scan, that of Malcolm Hollister, who had just finished his guard shift work for the day. Red reached into his back pocket, pulled out a glove and fitted it over his bare hand.

  He lifted and copied the guard’s prints off the tray, Bull marveled. He’s still got some tricks. Here’s hoping he’s got a few more.

  But this…this was a very different Red Djinni. There was no smirk, no easiness, no sign of the Djinni he’d come to recognize. This man was all ice-cold purpose. He was a cruise missile, a cold killing machine, and God help anything that got between him and his target. Even his eyes were two cold, stone, expressionless pebbles above his signature scarf.

  “You need anything?” Bull asked the Djinni.

  “Your piece, and backup,” Red replied. “Anyone who can keep up.”

  Bulwark handed Red his sidearm. “Can’t do much about backup,” he said grimly. “We’re on skeleton crew, everyone else is at the memorial, either trapped inside or surrounding the place as we speak.”

  Red looked them all over. Jack shook his head, Harmony merely sneered, while Scope continued to hide behind her mistress. Finally, he turned and regarded Mel. “I’m going after Victrix, and I’m not stopping until she’s back here safe. She’s the mission, and only her. As far as I’m concerned, you are expendable. Knowing that, are you still with me?”

  Mel gave him a strange look. “She’s the mission, eh? That mean you’re expendable too?”

  Red gave her a blank look, stepped back into his cell and tapped on the touchscreen next to the door.

  “Saved email, send command. Please confirm,” a pleasant female voice chimed from the interface.

  “Confirm, Djinni Sierra November,” Red answered. “Send it now.” He stepped back into the hallway. “I’m expendable too. You with me?”

  “Always,” Mel muttered, and shook her head in disgust.

  “Then let’s go,” the Djinni said. “Try and keep up.”

  “Sam, unlock the motorcycle bay at door five,” Bulwark barked into his Overwatch One relay. “Do it now and get back to what you were doing.” He turned back to Red, but the Djinni had already darted down the hallway with Mel sprinting after him.

  “I hope I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life,” Bulwark growled.

  “Oh, I think you did just fine,” Harmony laughed, clapping a hand on Bull’s shoulder. “I’m just sorry I won’t see how that all turns out, it’s got some epic potential, y’know.”

  Bull turned to her, drew another gun from the holster at the small of his back, and calmly pressed the muzzle to her head.

  “Time for you to go back to your cell, Harmony,” he growled.

  “What a lovely invitation,” Harmony responded. “But I think I’m going to have to decline.” She looked energized, even a little high, he thought. Was she literally drunk on all the emotion around her?

  “That’s not an option.” Bull took the wrist of the hand that still rested on his shoulder and squeezed it a very, very little, by way of emphasis.

  “Sorry, sweety, but I have places to go, people to be.” Harmony laughed and patted his hand lovingly.

  “Scope,” Bull said. “Take Harmony into custody and seal her up in her cell, full lockdown. You are cleared to empty your clips into her head.”

  Scope didn’t respond and drew away from him.

  “Oh, Bull,” Harmony sighed. She drew her hands up behind her head and took a step back. “Will you ever be any fun at all?”

  “Not your kind of fun, Harmony, no,” Bull said as he reached into his belt and removed a pair of shackles. “Turn around and face the wall.”

  “Oh! Just like one of your rendezvous with Bella!” Harmony laughed. She obliged him, but continued to chuckle. “Admit it, Bull, you’re enjoying this.”

  “I’m having the time of my life,” Bull grunted as he approached her, slowly. He reached out tentatively and snapped one of the shackles around her wrist. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do with you, Harm. This just isn’t the time. So you will forgive me if we just lock you away for now.”

  “You worry too much, Bulwark,” Harmony said, surrendering her other wrist to him. “You always have. These things tend to work out the way they’re supposed to. Something tells me I won’t be seeing you again. But don’t worry, don’t you fret. We have all these marvelous memories to fall back on. I’ll always remember you as the Boy Scout who got away. Ah well, at least I’ll always have Paris.”

  Bull shook his head and brought the other shackle up to Harmony’s wrist, when he felt a sharp pain in his lower back, and then nothing as he slid to the ground. Harmony turned around, still smiling. With her free hand, she grasped the shackle bound to her wrist, and snapped it off.

  “Why are you good guys always so stupid?” Harmony muttered.

  * * *

  Khanjar was content to remain a spectator. She and Jack had agreed that he would be the one to mak
e the executive decisions in this rescue, and so far, he hadn’t given her any of the agreed-upon signals. Scope was holding the Taser loosely in her hands, looking from it, to Bulwark’s prone twitching body, and back again, horrified.

  “Snap out of it, Paris,” Harmony said sharply, giving Scope’s shoulder a shake. “We need to go. Now. You’ll get your reward when we’re somewhere private.”

  Looking numb, Scope holstered her Taser and turned to follow Harmony. But she stopped as Jack finally spoke up.

  “Hey, ladies. I got a proposal. Mutually satisfactory alternative to you two running off to Bora Bora.”

  Harmony stopped, and favored Jack with an interested look. “Well now, I dunno, Jack. Bora Bora is awfully festive this time of year. That, and the fact I know you’ve been gunning for me this past year, makes me a little suspicious of your intentions.”

  “True,” Jack said with a shrug. He raised his hands in peace and strolled towards her. “But I think you’ll want to hear me out. You help me with this, and we’ll both get something we really, really want.”

  “And how would you know what I want?” Harmony asked.

  “’Cause he never gave it to you, darlin’,” Jack said. “He never paid you what you’re due.”

  Khanjar watched as Jack caught up to Harmony, and together they marched down the hall, their eyes locked on each other. Behind them, Scope gave Bulwark one last look, then rushed to catch up. Khanjar knelt down, checked Bulwark’s vitals and nodded in satisfaction.

  “Things tend to work out the way they’re supposed to, Bulwark,” she said, rising to her feet. “Especially when one has karma on one’s side. Have no fear. Karma’s a bitch.”

  And with that, she followed the others out.

  * * *

  When they arrived, there was little doubt that something was terribly wrong. There was a solitary alarm going off in Victrix’s Overwatch room, which was damning in and of itself, but the sight of the front door, blown inward off its hinges, left little doubt that someone had forced their way inside. While Vickie’s front door ordinarily looked rather pedestrian from the outside, it was all a façade. Mel remembered the first time she had been here. Upon entering Victrix’s flat, she had been rather impressed by the security measures the petite mage had installed. The door was solid steel, mounted in a reinforced steel frame, with eleven camouflaged locks in addition to the standard door lock. Any intruder would have had more luck ramming through the surrounding walls than taking the door down itself, though not by much. Mel suspected Vickie had somehow reinforced the very walls to her small apartment as well. And that was just the physical barrier. Victrix had told her once about the numerous magical defenses on the portal, including a magical heat sink, designed to counteract any attempts to cut through it (whether with a welding torch or magical equivalent) that would hold for at least five hours. There was also the door camera, disguised as a simple peephole, backed by bulletproof plate, with a gunport beneath it, so you could shoot out into the hallway, but not in. It was a formidable first line of defense.