by Paul Kane
She could see Tanek watching from behind his vehicle, and ducked back out of sight. Gwen wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was there. Of knowing she was shit scared about what they were going to do next.
It had been bad enough when she thought the Germans were on their own; now, who knew how many more troops might come? They were just villagers with guns, not that well trained either. Some hadn't even fired a gun before, in spite of her best efforts to prepare them. Some, like Karen, had never taken a life and she couldn't rely on them to begin now.
It was time to start being realistic. In most cases they would have been able to fend off what came down that road. If Javier, the man who'd killed Clive, had trundled up now they could have at least have sent him packing. But Tanek was a different kettle of fish. Face it, you need help, Gwen told herself.
Tate.
Gwen hated herself for even thinking it, but the Reverend - her old friend who'd left her a prisoner of the Sheriff for so long, who'd put her in danger again when the Tsar had attacked - was probably their only hope.
At the castle there was Robert, and wouldn't he just love to see her begging for their help. But there were also the Rangers. Well trained specialists who'd be able to take those Krauts down without breaking a sweat. With them on the outside, and her lot fighting from within, they might yet stand a chance.
Gwen caught sight of the villagers below. They were looking up, some accusatory - blaming her for bringing this to their doorstep - but most were looking to her for a solution.
There was only one thing she could think of to do.
Gwen got down, motioning for someone else to take her place on the wall. Hardly worth it, probably, but they still had to make an attempt to defend New Hope.
"Okay," she told the assembled crowd, "here's what we're going to do..."
Chapter Fifteen
"Wake up. Oh, please, wake up!"
He heard the muffled words, but didn't want to. They sounded like his mother's cries as she tried to get him up out of bed on a school or college day. "You're going to miss the bus, if you're not careful."
But this wasn't his mother's voice. It sounded familiar, though, like someone else he knew. The same inflections, though maybe a little deeper. Lyrical in tone, almost like music - and if there was one thing he knew about it was that.
Then he saw a face in the darkness.
Sian.
She was in his mind, just as she'd been in his thoughts since he'd first seen her.
"Please, whoever you are, wake up!" The words were sharper now, more acute. More real. He was fighting against the dark, raging against it. Time to get up or he'd miss the bus.
"D-Dale..." he croaked, not caring for the sound it made in his head. He tried to ignore the pain there, and hoped that fat git hadn't damaged his voice permanently when he grabbed hold of his neck. He should have been grateful he was still alive. As it was, he was simply glad he might get a shot at revenge.
Not very Ranger-like thoughts, he told himself. But then, hadn't Robert himself exacted his own revenge - twice - on people who'd hurt the woman he loved?
Love. It was an alien concept to him so he wasn't entirely sure. It was something he always thought he'd feel one day, that he hadn't been able to feel for any other girl he'd ever been with, as much as he'd liked to. He just hadn't been built that way. But the way he felt about Sian... it was either love or something very much like it. Dale knew that when he saw what that slug had done to Sian, he'd do anything he could to save her. That's why he had to wake up.
Dale opened his eyes, his vision blurred. And the picture of Sian's face he'd held there now became that of her aunty: Meghan.
"Please... Dale. You have to help her."
Dale moved, and regretted it instantly. He ached all over from the beating the Dragon had given him. From somewhere he heard the sound of gunfire. Meghan looked up and out through the open door. Dale blinked and his focus returned enough to see what the Dragon had done to her hand, which she was holding against her chest as she knelt next to him.
"Please, we have to hurry," she said.
"Where..." Dale croaked again. "Where is he?" There was no sign of the Dragon, just the men Dale had put out of action before the real fight began.
"He left, maybe to see what was happening out there - with your friends?" Meghan winced as her hand shifted position; whatever he'd been through, he was in better shape than her, Dale reminded himself. That hand needed looking at, and soon. But Meghan hadn't finished talking. "Then I saw him on the screen back there, the one Sian had been on." The screen Meghan was talking about had a crack across it, but still showed a picture. The chair Sian had been tied to was now empty. Dale's heart sank.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"He took her," said Meghan.
Dale didn't want to make things worse by saying that Sian had come here to rescue her.
"I was only trying to keep her safe," Meghan told him. "And now look!"
"I think so. Somewhere he'd feel safe, back to where his family are."
"Right," said Dale, picking up the rifle he'd been brandishing when the Dragon came at him. It wasn't a Ranger's weapon but was the only one he had to hand, and he wasn't about to go up against armed men with nothing. He began to make his way outside, but would have toppled over if Meghan hadn't steadied him. What was he thinking? He was in no shape to be taking on the Dragon. He'd get all of them killed.
Dale could hear the sound of gunfire out in the corridor - then another explosion. There was a battle going on and usually Dale would have wanted to be a part of that. Not this time. He let Meghan take the lead, as she knew where the Dragon's family could be found.
They turned a corner and were confronted by two or three of the Dragon's men, who opened fire on them even before they'd had a chance to identify themselves. Nerves and hair-triggers, thought Dale as he pulled Meghan back behind the wall for safety, not a good combination. These soldiers were seeing their enemies everywhere.
Bullets pinged off the wall and Dale swore. He stuck out the machine-gun and returned fire, but drew even more in return.
He didn't have time for this. For all they knew, the Dragon could have already killed Sian and-
No, she was still alive. She had to be! Dale sprayed another round of bullets in the direction of the Dragon's men, this time chancing a look around the corner as he did.
There were even more now. He checked his magazine; there wasn't much ammo left. Certainly not enough to take on all those guys.
He looked at Meghan's terrified face and couldn't muster any reassurance.
But if he didn't do something, and fast, a young woman that they both cared about would be in really serious trouble.
The castle had sent all the reinforcements they could, but they were still heavily outnumbered.
However, the fact that one highly trained Ranger was worth at least a dozen of the Dragon's men evened it out somewhat. They also had the element of surprise on their side. Jack deemed the risk necessary. Had done since he'd learned of the connection between the Dragon and Tanek.
If that sadistic son of a bitch was back on the scene, then this outfit needed crippling sooner rather than later. Before another Sheriff or Tsar could come along and take advantage. For all they knew, this Dragon might have the credentials himself - he was certainly psychotic enough. What he'd done to their Welsh HQ, to the survivors he'd then taken back to the Millennium Stadium, was proof enough of that. And although revenge shouldn't have been the motivation for this attack, Jack's mind kept flashing back to those bodies, to the Ranger who'd been dumped on the road by the Dragon's men. The idea that Tanek might also still be around was also too tantalising to pass up.
Jack had a major score to settle with that man. On two occasions, he'd been bested by him - in spite of the rematch almost going his way. And that was before the torture he'd put him through.
Still, he'd thought long and hard about this: putting even more Rangers in the
line of fire for some kind of personal vendetta wasn't what this police force was all about. But when the men and women had come to him themselves, saying this was the right thing, that they also wanted payback for their comrades who'd died at the Dragon's hands, that had settled it. Each one of them knew what they were letting themselves in for once they put on the Ranger uniform. It hadn't stopped them before, and it certainly wasn't about to deter them now. Far from putting them off or sending a message that the Dragon was not to be messed with, his actions had simply put fire in their bellies.
Then there was the small matter of one of his Rangers being inside. A man he'd personally sent there.
"I'm not one for speeches," Jack had told the collected troops just before they'd headed off. "Robert's the one you want for that. But I do know one thing, whatever happens today you're doing the Rangers proud. Now good luck to all of you, and let's go and kick some butt!"
His people knew exactly what they were doing, which ensured he could rely on them to crush the lookouts on the outskirts of the Dragon's territory without fuss and without their enemies issuing a warning. Jack had watched one particular squad through binoculars from a deserted house, with equal amounts of anticipation and pride. The hooded soldiers slipped through the streets, coming up on the lookouts while the Dragon's men chatted amongst themselves. If the guards had spotted trouble they might have sprung into action, but they were oblivious - and before they could even get off a shot, the group of half a dozen soldiers dropped silently to the ground, taken out by a mixture of arrows and bolas. Jack had allowed himself a slight smile, but there was a bigger test to come.
They'd moved through the city using the buildings, just as Robert had taught them. Nobody from the stadium would have seen their approach, and when they were close enough, teams of Rangers were deployed as planned, surrounding the stadium. There were a handful of Rangers present with scuba diving skills; they were not only well trained fighters, these men and women, but sometimes hobbies from the old days could come in very useful. They used the River Taff to approach the building, after Jack had sourced the equipment from a shop which used to sell tanks and gear before the virus. It would be just like the beginning of Goldfinger, he'd told them, but without the dinner jackets underneath their wetsuits.
Any guards they spotted were felled with arrows or bolas, some even with throwing knives if the Rangers were close enough. A team had also been sent out to deal with the problem of the vehicles and weapons stashed at Cardiff Arms Park. As Robert had done during his battle with the Tsar's men, they'd be using chemically-treated arrows to deal with this - the tips carrying a concentrated explosive. At a specified time that team would fire these into the smaller stadium, the result of which would be catastrophic for the Dragon's defences.
A couple of teams had entered via Park Street and Scott Road in a pincer movement. There were emergency doors here - Jack had done his homework - next to the old media access area, which could be used to gain entrance after any guards had been dealt with.
Meanwhile for other groups, including Jack's, the architecture of the stadium itself was a gift: struts and poles for climbing, perfect for arrows with ropes attached to be fired up onto the roof. Jack had to admit, he didn't relish the prospect of such a climb, but he did all right keeping up with some of the younger Rangers. There were absolutely no guards up on top, as Jack had figured - nobody would be stupid enough to camp out there - so the Rangers were able to climb down inside, again using all those metal struts and poles to their advantage. Hanging from the rooftop inside, they could pick off any obvious guards visible out in the open, leaving the way free for the rest of them to abseil down directly from the roof. That one was inspired by You Only Live Twice.
Jack and the others watched as a number of the Rangers disappeared under the roof on the opposite side. They waited, and waited. Then the all-clear signal was given; a faint whistle which could be mistaken for birdsong unless you were really listening for it. Jack nodded for them all to begin their run, and looked over the edge at the pitch below. Even with his head for heights this was not something he was looking forward to. "Well, here goes nothin'."
Holding the rope steady - with his staff jammed under his arm - he lowered himself over the edge of the stadium's open metal canopy. Jack pushed himself off, swaying as he dropped. He let out the rope, glancing over at other Rangers doing the same, spotting those who had already climbed up and under now adopting positions between the rows of seats; quietly making their way downwards.
They'd been lucky so far, but that wouldn't last. Sooner or later someone, somewhere, would spot the ropes dangling into the stadium. So they had to move quickly.
Jack heard shouting. Raised voices that didn't belong to his troops.
That was it, they'd been spotted. But the timing couldn't have been better.
Loud bangs sounded from the smaller stadium next door, then explosions as the Rangers' arrows found their marks - blowing up stationary jeeps and motorbikes, tanks and trucks... and ammo. A chain reaction ensued, the ground and the stadium shaking with the ferocity of it. The distraction bought them some time, but not much. Machine-gun fire came from the left of Jack, and he dropped several metres. The other dangling Rangers, rather than waiting to fall to the pitch, swung into the rows of seats, detaching themselves as soon as they could. Their bows were out seconds later, trained on the source of the machine-gun fire.
Jack did the same, using his momentum to swing across. Bullets missed him by inches and he spotted the gunman. Holding on to the rope with one hand, he let his staff fall from his armpit, catching it with his free hand. He flung it at the Dragon's guard and it hit the man squarely in the chest. The man fell backwards, then flopped forwards over one of the blue plastic seats. Jack swung himself across, letting go when he was over the steps between seats. He landed well enough, but had to duck seconds later because there was more rapid gunfire from another shooter.
A female Ranger Jack recognised as Beth Garrett popped up between the seats and put an arrow in the guy; Jack nodded a thanks and went to retrieve his staff. He knew that inside, his other troopers were fighting their own battles - bow and arrow against hot lead. But Jack's money was on the Rangers.
Heavy weapons fire suddenly drew his attention and he looked across the stadium to see a fixed mounted machine-gun the size of a bloody cannon, spitting out... yes, dammit, those were grenades. A couple exploded near to one of his Rangers and Jack watched, horrified, as the hooded figure flew up into the air along with wrecked seats.
"Hawkings!" he shouted, pointing to the weapon, and was gratified to see that the Ranger in question had already lit one of his chemical arrows. He fired it in the direction of the cannon, and the resultant blast spread across the Dragon's men and set off the grenades they'd been feeding into the weapon.
Jack nodded with satisfaction. "How'd ya like them apples?"
Down below, another skirmish had broken out on the pitch, with Rangers who had made it down that far taking on the guards with their swords. Rolling to duck bullets, they hacked at legs - cutting into shins and thighs. No guard would be getting up after that.
In doorways and from behind the seats, his Rangers continued to hold their own, firing arrow after arrow, some explosive, most not needing to be. A clump of about twenty of the Dragon's men, all armed to the teeth, were taken down in seconds by arrowfire; the fact that they were all together making it easy for his Rangers to wound and incapacitate. Some of the guards were fleeing, retreating back inside the stadium. It wouldn't do them any good, because already the Rangers were spreading throughout this place: down corridors and on stairwells, checking every room and crushing any resistance.
He made his way up towards a door, but as he did so a guard came through it brandishing a pistol. Jack flicked his staff up and knocked the gun out of the man's hand, then whacked him on the temple. There was the sound of boots to the left and right, and Jack dropped immediately, just as the machine-gun fire from two groups of gu
ards on either side opened up. "Chumps," muttered Jack as he rose again and saw the bodies. The Dragon's men had shot each other.
Leaving his forces to carry on their clean-up, Jack slipped inside through the entrance ahead of him.
It was a big place, and it was time to begin his search.
After all, he had more than one person to find.
"What now?" asked Meghan.
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," Dale replied. It wasn't easy when you were pinned down and bullets were sparking off the corner next to your head. He looked around frantically for an answer.
Then he saw it. Their way out of there. Dale smiled.
"What?" asked Meghan.
"Here, hold this." He put the gun in her good hand, then ran across the hallway.
"Dale...?" came Meghan's worried voice. It was obvious they hadn't returned fire in a while and she was thinking that perhaps they should. She was right, but not with bullets. Or not only with bullets.
Dale finished wrenching the red metal cylinder from the wall, before joining her again. "Okay, you might want to duck," he told her as he relieved her of the machine-gun. She did as she was told and Dale pressed himself up against the wall, closing his eyes. "Fingers crossed."
He set off the fire extinguisher, jamming the mechanism so it sprayed out clouds of white as he flung it around the corner in their direction. When Dale heard the men coughing, he broke cover and fired wildly into the gas. He'd been intending just to hit the men, but one of his bullets hit the canister itself and it went up in the middle of the guards, doing exactly the opposite of what it was meant to - starting a fire instead of putting one out. It sent them sprawling in all directions. The blast also knocked him back against the far wall, reminding him of the injuries the Dragon had only recently inflicted.
