Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle

by Lackey, Mercedes

  “She is coming,” they said, the sounds of powerful jets almost upon them. “Are we ready?” And they answered themselves, laughing. “Oh, yes. Yes, we are.”

  And from the pit Barron emerged, incandescent in her fury, and touched down with an angry crash on the lip of the balustrade. She had lost her helmet in the fall or, perhaps, ripped it off in a fury. It was almost impossible to read her very alien face, which in any case didn’t seem to have the musculature to display facial expressions. The head, covered in tiny purple feathers, was surmounted by a crest of longer, silky feathers of a darker purple hue, and the head beneath the crest was actually heart-shaped, with a pair of huge, childlike, slanted eyes colored a rich emerald-green with no whites to them, a tiny, tip-tilted nose, and an unobtrusive slit for a mouth. Unless you looked really closely, you couldn’t even tell that mouth was snarling. She drew herself up to her full height of over eight feet tall, glaring at them, and brought up Tire Iron, clutched defiantly in her bloody claw.

  “Fleas,” Barron spat. “Together, apart, it makes little difference. I will tear you asunder and feast on your entrails.”

  “We are beyond you,” they answered simply. “Stand aside. You will delay us no further.”

  “I have been the destroyer of planets!” Barron roared. “Legions have fallen to these hands! What chance do you hope to have, mortals, against a god?”

  “We are hardly mortals, and you are nothing like a god. You are…” They cocked their head, sizing up their opponent, and nodded. “You’re still an asshole. Asshole? Yep. Asshole. And by the way, put that down before you hurt yourself.”

  Barron snarled, raising Vickie’s sword higher still, and stopped, her eyes widening in astonishment. She looked down, and stared in confusion as an enormous fist of stone erupted from the pit to grip her by the ankle, rooting her in place. She turned back to them, furious, as they deftly traced an intricate pattern of light in the air with their fingers.

  “This is so much easier when I’m my own medium,” they said, smirking.

  Contemptuously, Barron swung a fist down and smashed her earthen shackles to dust. “You seek to stop me with mere tricks. I, who have smashed apart whole mountains…”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re awesome, yadda yadda,” they said, yawning ostentatiously. “Come on then, talk is cheap. Let’s see how big and bad you are.”

  Roaring again, Barron launched herself at them. It was clear to them she knew nothing about handling a sword; she held it like a hammer, and made a clumsy overhand swing at them that she probably thought was unstoppable. If there was ever a textbook move for an Aikido counter, this was it. They waited until the last second, moved slightly off the line of attack, reached out and grasped Barron’s “wrist” and, effortlessly, using the momentum of her own downward swing and charge, sent her into the wall. Whirling in place and pouncing on the opportunity, they drove Can Opener for Barron’s neck.

  But again, Barron surprised them with her speed. She used her own impact to roll out of the way, and saw Can Opener flash past her, harmlessly cutting air. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blade, and when she bounced to her feet her stance was defensive, cautious. She circled them slowly, her movements less certain than before. She lunged again, this time leading Tire Iron with short, deft stabs that they easily dodged and parried away.

  And meanwhile, behind them, the bomb hung, waiting to drop.

  We don’t have time for this.

  Well, we’re open to suggestions.

  They attempted a quick stab with the blade, and missed again as Barron danced back out of reach.

  She’s on the defensive, and she’s too quick. We need her guard to fall. As it stands, if we keep up this pace, it’s only a matter of time before we mess up and she gets a good dig in with that sword.

  Well, so what if she does?

  If she does…ooooh. That’s a good thought.

  Isn’t it?

  They continued to circle the giant, trading empty blows, waiting for their moment. It had to be timed and acted perfectly. They were betting it all, knowing that for a moment, they would be completely vulnerable.

  Last shot. We ready for this?

  Go time.

  They hopped up, dodging another slicing attack, but this time, instead of dropping back, they leapt forward, arcing high into the air and descending, dagger first, squarely at the giant’s exposed chest. Barron grunted in surprise, and with a quick reversal, swung the blade into Red and Vickie’s chest, nearly splitting them in half. They stopped, midleap, and stared at the sword as it protruded from the area of their navel. An enormous fount of blood erupted from the cut, and they quivered in place, their head now hanging low, a bloody froth bubbling over their lips and cascading down their body.

  Barron relaxed her stance, chuckled, and held them aloft, impaled on the blade.

  “A worthy fight,” she said. “Far better than I would have imagined. You have earned your last words, if you can utter them.”

  Red and Vickie raised their head, and mumbled something that became a coughing fit, splattering more blood over their assailant. Barron slowly mopped some from her face, and leaned in.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  Red and Vickie coughed again, but managed to look her full in the face.

  “Assholesayswhat?”

  Barron flinched, confused.

  “What?”

  And in that moment, Red and Vickie’s hand, which had been hanging limp and lifeless, barely holding onto the dagger, lashed up, fast as a striking cobra and with all their power behind it. They drove the blade in deep, past Barron’s open and bewildered lips, and felt a hard crunch as it bit through the roof of her mouth. They froze together there for a moment, Red and Vickie still suspended in midair, Barron staring into their face. Then the behemoth dropped, and they fell with her.

  They lay on their side for a moment, before releasing their grip on Can Opener. With a shudder, they gripped Tire Iron’s hilt with both hands, and coughing, pulled it out of their chest. They lay gasping for a moment, before rising slowly to their feet, their body zipping itself bizarrely back together.

  “Christ,” they said. “That hurt. That hurt a lot.”

  * * *

  Things had only grown more difficult after Red Saviour finished dealing with Worker’s Champion. The Supernaut troopers they had first encountered had only been the lead element for a much larger force. Instead of facing the coalition forces head on, like the Thulians had been, the Supernaut troopers had spread out, occupying the buildings and turning each into an ad hoc bunker. Natalya’s assault had slowed considerably; each building had to be checked and cleared. The ones that held Supernaut traitors would either come alive with automatic weapons’ fire and gouts of flame from window ambushes, or explode in a cloud of fire when the assaulters entered. Her people were good, but she was losing too many of them. Soviette and Thea were working as hard and as fast as they could, and Natalya genuinely marveled at the way the pair seemed to be right where they were needed almost before anyone could call out, “Medic!” But there were only two of them, and her people were still dying.

  If she had her way, she would pull her forces back and simply raze the entire city with artillery, marching the barrage forward and leveling every single building. Much safer and easier to sweep smoking rubble for dead enemies, than fighting positions for live ones. Now that the attack was in full swing, the Thulians had woken up; their antibombardment defenses were in overdrive, destroying shells and missiles in the air with flak explosions and lances of actinic energy. Combined with the fact that every single commander was calling on the same limited set of resources, it left Saviour waiting for uncomfortably long periods before air support or an artillery strike could be called in.

  Natalya had been advancing with her troops—preoccupied with coordinating the assault elements while Untermensch and a VDV lieutenant handled the nitty-gritty of troop movement—down what looked to be an empty street when an explosion rocked
her like an earthquake. She fell backwards, hard, and barely managed not to dash her brains out on the street. Her ears were ringing, but she heard shouts, in Russian and English, of “IED!” and “Contact front! One hundred meters!” and “Medic!”

  Someone hastily dragged her to cover, picking her up and setting her roughly on her feet against a pile of rubble from a destroyed building. The air was filled with the sound of explosions, gunshots, and men yelling. The ringing whine in her ears muffled all of the other sounds like a thick blanket. She shook her head to clear it, bringing up her tactical display. Her troops had marked two buildings, located on opposite sides of the intersection ahead, where a mixed unit of Supernaut troopers and Thulians had holed up. Judging by the disposition of her men and where the ambush had started, the traitors and Thulians had made a major tactical error by triggering their explosive too early, before the majority of her forces were in the intersection. All of her people that were still up and operational had taken cover, and were pouring fire on the two buildings.

  “Keep up suppressive fire on those bastards! Squads One, Two, Four, and Six, spread out to our flanks and maneuver on the buildings while we keep their heads down.” She tried to ping a request for artillery or an air strike, but all of the assets were tied up. The battle in the air had turned serious, with numerous Death Spheres and Robo-Eagles dueling with fighter jets, attack helicopters, and bombers. Natalya sincerely hoped that luck would be on their side, and a flaming wreck—the enemy’s or one of their own—wouldn’t land squarely on her team’s heads. “When in grenade range, we will hit their position hard, and deploy smoke to conceal your movement. Storm in and take the building—fast. Take them down before they can cook the entire structure.”

  Unter trotted up to her side, staying behind cover. “Commissar, we have two men still alive where the IED went off. They can’t move without exposing themselves to the enemy, and besides, their injuries are severe.” They won’t survive much longer, he didn’t have to add. Natalya bit her lip. Her men were already moving to flank the buildings and start the assault. Still, even with how fast they were, it wouldn’t be fast enough to save the men in the intersection. She had to do something now, otherwise they were as good as dead.

  “Deploy smoke in the intersection. Once it’s filled, you and Bear retrieve the soldiers. Your healing and his chassis should protect you from whatever enemy fire comes through.” The two squads left in the street wouldn’t be able to accurately target the buildings where the Supernaut troopers and Thulians were holed up, but they could still throw an impressive amount of lead their way. Hopefully, it’d be enough to cover the other squads’ advance. A few moments later, several smoke grenades sailed over Natalya’s head, clanging loudly off of the paved street before they fully ignited. Thick white clouds of smoke started to fill the intersection; luckily, the wind was coming from the beachhead behind them, so the smoke would be blown towards their enemies and not back in their faces. She waited for a few beats for the smoke to completely block her view of the buildings ahead. Her men had already picked out spots to aim for, so that their shots would at least be close to where they needed to go. The incoming enemy fire slackened, then became much more inaccurate. “Georgi, go now!”

  Untermensch and Soviet Bear started towards the injured men; both had their weapons slung, since firing would only give their enemies something to potentially focus on. Instead, they ran as fast as they could; naturally, Georgi was the faster of the two, but Pavel’s clomping gait covered a fair amount of ground all the same. Bear reached the downed soldiers just as Georgi was picking one of them up in a rescue carry. They didn’t waste any time; once both of the men were secured, they started back towards the nearest piece of cover, on the opposite side of the street from Natalya. The pair, with their injured cargo, were almost halfway to relative safety when a quick succession of energy bolts caused Natalya to reflexively flinch and close her eyes. “Sniper!” She yelled, then tracked where the blasts were coming from: a window on her side of the street, just a little behind her position. A “die in place” unit; let the enemy move past, then hit them from behind before getting cut down in turn. Sneaky bastards. Quick as a blink, she marked the window with her HUD, simultaneously retrieving a fragmentation grenade from her vest. With practiced casualness, she charged the grenade, kicked off the ground on a plume of her metahuman energy, and side-armed the grenade into the window where the sniper was firing from. The energy bolts were immediately silenced by the whump of the grenade’s explosion; the only thing that came from the window were shards of glass and bits of debris.

  Something is wrong. She ran back to cover; the smoke in the intersection was clearing, and as a result, the ambushers had renewed their weapon fire. Her squads were still in position, and the flankers were just about in grenade range of the ambushers’ buildings; they were running low on their specialty munitions, and were saving the rockets for Thulian armored troopers. She scanned the street, and immediately saw what had caused her stomach to knot. Pavel was down. His chassis was able to shrug off small arms with relative ease, but Thulian energy weapons damaged it as easily as they destroyed anything else. From her position, Natalya could see that Pavel was facedown in the street; his legs had been completely slagged, and the energy bolts had melted three holes in his back and torso. Unter had made it back without being hit, and the injured soldier he had been carrying was already being treated. But his position was also under fire, since the smoke had revealed it to the ambushers, and he couldn’t possibly venture out to get the remaining soldier without being gunned down. She doubted even his healing ability and the ECHO nanoweave could stand up to a concerted attack from two buildings full of the enemy; as miraculous as it was, it couldn’t bring him back from the dead.

  The soldier, if he isn’t dead already, will probably be dead soon. Damn them! And Pavel…The old fool had been around since before she was born. Once a proud member of the Motherland’s metahuman corps, he had fallen into disgrace at some point after the Great Patriotic War. She had never learned the details, and she didn’t care about them; he had returned to the ranks of the CCCP in the late seventies, and she had grown up with him as another of her “uncles.” First, watching him fight beside her father, and then fighting alongside him, before she had finally earned the command of the CCCP. As much as she found him infuriating with his constant antics, she had also grown fond of the doddering relic. Ever since Worker’s Champion’s betrayal, he had been one of her few remaining ties to the time when being a metahuman and a member of the CCCP were pure for her. The amount of crockery that she threw at him back at HQ hadn’t lessened, but she certainly didn’t wing it at him as hard or as accurately as she used to. And now she would never get to throw anything at him ever again. Or to tell him that, as much of a pain in the ass as he was for her, she still appreciated him as a comrade. Another one that trusted me, dead. Dead, and I gave the order. She felt the pain swell up in her breast, glowing and aching; a mix of loss and cultivated hatred, for the enemy and her inability to stop her people from dying.

  Her vision had become unfocused for a moment as she processed everything that had happened. She snapped herself out of it; she couldn’t afford to slow down, not when there was still more fighting to be done. Natalya was about to bark out the order for the flankers to storm the buildings when some movement caught her eye. She was drawn back to Pavel and the dying soldier…and Pavel was moving. He had the soldier’s drag handle on the back of the man’s harness in his left hand, the mechanical prostheses barely attached to his soldier. He was pulling himself and the injured soldier towards Georgi with his right arm, even as bullets ricocheted off of what was left of his ruined chassis.

  Natalya’s heart leapt, and she didn’t hesitate. “Covering fire!” She didn’t wait for any of her men to respond. She was already running for Pavel and the injured soldier, her legs like steel pistons as they pumped up and down. She couldn’t even feel the ground beneath her, and barely felt the energy blast th
at grazed her back; distantly, she knew that she was hurt, but that didn’t matter now. She had to protect her comrades, her friends. She used her metahuman energy to fly, still staying low to the ground; even running would be too slow. When she neared Pavel and the soldier, she swooped lower still; she threw her arms out wide, scooping the injured soldier and Pavel up under their arms—or what was left, for Pavel—and beelining for Georgi. She felt impacts, like hard punches, pepper her back and side. The nanoweave constricted oddly, almost spasmodically, in reaction to whatever hit her. She didn’t care. A moment later, she landed behind cover, Georgi and several of the VDV soldiers rushing to her, taking Bear and their injured comrade from her.

  Everything grew very quiet for Natalya. She felt odd, almost disconnected, and Georgi looked up to her gravely. She didn’t know why; despite his injuries, Bear was alive. Or so she thought. He didn’t breathe like a normal man, but she thought she could tell that he still lived. She smiled to Georgi, nodding once. Then she tasted blood in her mouth, and found herself on her knees. Her vision darkened, and she was extraordinarily tired. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t feel the panic that she expected to feel. She fell forward into Georgi’s arms, and closed her eyes. They would be okay, her wolves, her tovarischii. So long as they had each other, they would prevail. That was all that mattered as she breathed out for the last time.