Caina needed a distraction, and she needed one right now.
She started sobbing incoherently.
The Rebels gave her a startled look. So did Nadia.
“Oh, God!” said Caina. “Oh, God! You killed him! You killed him!”
“What?” said one of the Rebels, and he glanced at the dead soldier. The others followed suit. “We didn’t…”
“Nadia!” said Caina.
Nadia had been taken off guard by Caina’s crying fit, but she still held power ready. She flung out her left hand and cast the Shield spell, and a dome of flickering gray light appeared right in front of her. The Rebels opened fire, but their bullets rebounded off the Shield. Firing at point-blank range into a Shield spell was a bad idea, and two of the Rebels fell, killed by their own ricocheting bullets. But the Shield would not block attacks from this side, and Caina raised her rifle and pulled the trigger twice.
The remaining two Rebels fell dead to the floor.
“Thanks for that Shield spell,” said Caina as Nadia released it.
“You’re welcome,” said Nadia. She squatted next to one of the dead Rebels, relieving the man of his gun belt. Probably she wanted to claim his pistol. “So, you can just…cry on cue like that?”
“Yes,” said Caina. “It’s come in handy a number of times.”
Nadia took the gun belt and wrapped it around her waist. She was small enough that she had to wind it twice around her before it stayed in place. “Maybe we should dress you up in one of their uniforms, and you can pass as them…wait a second.” She prodded one of the Rebels with the toe of her shoe. “This one’s still alive.”
Caina saw that she was right. The Rebel had been hit in the stomach and the chest by ricocheting bullets. A sheen of sweat covered his face, and it was clear that every breath caused him pain. Caina thought the bullet had deflected off his ribs, given that he could still breathe. The stomach wound was more serious, but he would probably survive it if he got proper medical attention in the next few hours.
“Hiya,” said Nadia, grinning that frightening mirthless grin of hers. “We’ve got some questions for you.”
“Go to hell,” wheezed the Rebel. His hand jerked towards his belt.
“No,” said Caina, and she grabbed the heavy black phone handset from his hip. “Trying to call Mr. Navarre? I’m afraid he’s unavailable for calls just now.”
“My friend here is going to ask you a few questions,” said Nadia, “and you’re going to answer them.”
“Go to hell,” said the Rebel again.
Nadia’s grinned. “You’re really going to want to answer her.” She made a flourishing gesture with her right hand, and a sphere of fire whirled to life above her palm. Caina saw the flow of elemental magic empowering the sphere. “Because I’ve had a really bad day, and you made the mistake of giving me a target I can take it out on. So.” She lowered her palm toward his face. Caina felt the heat radiating from the sphere. “What’s your name?”
The Rebel swallowed. “Vincent.”
“Probably not your real name,” said Caina. “But that is unimportant. Why are you here, Vincent?”
He bared his teeth in a snarl. “To avenge the losses the glorious Revolution took in this city.”
“There’s not much left of the glorious Revolution,” said Caina. “Most of you burned up in Venomhold with the Sky Hammer.”
Vincent sneered at her. “So long as men are willing to fight the yoke of our Elven oppressors, the Revolution will never truly die. We shall overthrow the High Queen and her nobles, and we will build the truly classless society, one with no more rich and poor, where all shall be equal and…”
“Hey,” said Nadia. “Not to interrupt your manifesto or anything, but can I tell you something? I mean, I know we’re supposed to be interrogating you, but I really need to unburden myself.” Vincent’s snarl of defiance turned into puzzlement. “Do you know how the battle of New York was supposed to go? How your precious Overseer planned it, that is?”
Vincent laughed. “We would have engaged the High Queen’s forces while the Overseer moved the bomb into position. Then we would have withdrawn, and the Sky Hammer weapon would have destroyed New York and killed the High Queen…”
“It would have killed fifteen million people as well,” said Caina. Herself among them. She had been in New York that day and had taken part in the street fighting against the Rebel soldiers pouring out through the rift ways.
“Oops,” said Nadia. “That wasn’t the plan. See, you got it mostly right, except the Overseer would have set off the bomb while you guys were still fighting.”
Vincent blinked. “No. No, that’s not right…”
“You were the disposable distraction,” said Nadia. “Connor would have killed you all, and then the Skythrone would have fallen and caused global earthquakes and shock waves. He thought ninety percent of the planet would die, and he would build the remaining ten percent into his perfect little dictatorship. And all he had to do was to sacrifice you guys. No great loss, right?”
“You’re lying,” said Vincent, but Caina noted the shift in his expression. “No, you’re lying. The Overseer wouldn’t have done that…”
“He did, and it’s happening to you again,” said Caina, picking up on Nadia’s line of thought. “Navarre is the same sort of man as the Overseer. He’s sacrificing you to achieve his goals.”
“No,” said Vincent, shaking his head. “No. Navarre is the last true leader of the Revolution. He has a plan to succeed where the Overseer failed. When we steal the weapon from the Baron, we’ll…”
“Weapon?” said Caina. “What weapon?”
But Vincent fell silent, his eyes darting back and forth.
“Let me guess,” said Caina. The memory of the pallet jacks flashed through her mind. “Baron Kaldmask has something stashed away here. Navarre wants it for himself. The whole game with the hostages and the demand for negotiations is just a misdirection. The real point of this entire operation is to steal the weapon.”
Still, Vincent said nothing.
“I don’t think we’re going to get anything else out of him,” said Nadia.
“The Revolution will prevail!” said Vincent. “The Revolution will…”
“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” said Nadia, and she rolled her wrist and slapped her palm against Vincent’s forehead.
Caina thought that Nadia had killed him, that she had plunged the sphere of fire into his skull. But as Nadia rolled her wrist, the sphere winked out, and she cast another spell instead. It was the mindtouch spell, and Caina saw the glow as Nadia reached into Vincent’s mind and projected something into his thoughts.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant.
Vincent went rigid and screamed, his eyes bulging with horror, and then collapsed limp against the floor.
“What did you do to him?” said Caina.
Nadia grimaced, wiped her hand against Vincent’s flak jacket, and straightened up. “Mindtouch spell. Gave him one of my less cheery memories. His mind shut down from the horror and rebooted itself. He’ll wake up in about an hour or so with no memory of the last half-hour. Assuming he doesn’t bleed out first. Didn’t want him screaming his head off until someone found him and he could tell Navarre about us.”
“Why didn’t you kill him?” said Caina.
Something tired flickered in Nadia’s eyes. “You can kill him if you want. I can kill in cold blood. I…just don’t like doing it.” That rictus-like grin returned. “There have to be some rules.”
“I understand,” said Caina. “Let’s go. The sooner we can talk to someone in authority, the better. And it sounds just like Kaldmask to have a secret weapon hidden somewhere in his mansion.”
“God, I hope it isn’t another nuke,” said Nadia, following Caina back to the stairwell.
“I doubt it,” said Caina. Nadia pushed open the stairwell door, and Caina swept the landing with her rifle, but the stairs were deserted. “If Kaldmask found some old pre-Conquest
nuke lying around somewhere, he’d give it to the High Queen to curry favor and make Duke Mythrender look bad. It’s probably a magical weapon or relic he discovered in the Shadowlands.”
“That could be almost as bad,” said Nadia, “depending on what he found. It must be dangerous if Navarre’s willing to risk so much to get his hands on the damn thing.” She looked at Caina. “Better be quiet now.”
Caina nodded, and they descended the stairs in silence, or as close to silence as Nadia could manage in her shoes. Fortunately, the noise of clanking pallet jacks and shouted orders from the truck dock drowned out any sound Nadia made.
“Same as before?” whispered Caina.
“Close,” responded Nadia. “Take my hand, and I’ll Cloak us both. Follow me.”
Caina shifted her rifle to her right hand, and Nadia took her left hand. The shorter woman’s hand felt thin and cold, albeit with the sort of calluses that developed from regular weightlifting. Silver light flashed around Nadia’s free hand as she cast the Cloak spell, and suddenly a corona of silver light surrounded both Nadia and Caina.
To any eyes other than those of a valikarion, they would be invisible.
Nadia eased the door open and slipped through it, and Caina followed, holding her rifle against her leg so it would not clang against the doorframe. She wasn’t sure if the Cloak spell would muffle any sound they made, but this was not the time to ask.
The Rebels had been busy since Caina and Nadia had passed through the dock. All the pallets of supplies had been pushed to the side, leaving a clear way to the truck ports. The corpses of the Rebels that Caina had killed had been stripped of their weapons and dumped against the wall. Even as Caina looked, the Rebel soldiers began moving the last few pallets. A dull rumbling noise came to her ears, the sound of an idling diesel engine. Someone had started the semi parked at the truck port. The truck’s trailer was completely empty.
One of the Rebels must have started the truck. But why? How much stuff did they intend to steal from the Baron?
Nadia headed towards the second truck port, the unoccupied one. The door stood open, admitting a cold, salt-scented breeze. Two Rebels with AK-47s stood guard there, watching the night. Nadia and Caina walked right between them. Dropping through the truck port while holding Nadia’s hand was a bit of a challenge, but they managed. A quick walk up the concrete ramp of the truck port, and they began circling the mansion, heading towards its grand gates.
The silver glow vanished as Nadia released the Cloak spell.
“Think we’re clear for now,” she said, breathing hard, sweat shining on her forehead. “Holding the spell over both of us and moving around is kind of a strain.”
Caina nodded. “Let’s head for the front doors. Keep your eyes open. Navarre might have snipers on the roof. Or Homeland Security might have sent a team to take the rooftops.”
“Right,” said Nadia.
They made their way along the base of the mansion’s wall. Caina kept glancing up. No one ever looked up, and that wasn’t a mistake she wished to make herself. Yet she didn’t see anyone watching them from the rooftop, though there were a thousand places a sniper could conceal himself on the roof. Soon they reached the corner of the building, and Caina peered around it towards the mansion’s front grounds and the doors to the dining hall.
Right away she saw that they had a problem.
Dozens of Homeland Security SUVs and vans had parked on the grounds, forming a perimeter that blocked off the road, their blue lights flashing. The Rebels had built a barricade across the mansion's front gates, a makeshift thing of overturned tables, chairs, and some couches, and a dozen gunmen manned it, AK-47s pointed towards the Homeland Security blockade. One of the Rebels held a megaphone and was bellowing something that sounded like a list of demands interspersed with bouts of ideological ranting.
“I think we’re going to need to Cloak again,” said Caina to Nadia. “If the Homeland Security officers see us come from the mansion, they might shoot us. And if the Rebels see us, they might assume we’re escaping hostages and shoot us.”
“That would be a problem,” said Nadia. “Better sling that AK-47 over your shoulder. If we’re not holding guns when they see us, Homeland Security is less likely to kill us.” Caina nodded and used the rifle’s strap to hang the weapon from her shoulder. “I suppose we’ll have a tough time convincing whoever’s in charge to listen to…”
“Wait,” said Caina, looking between two of the Homeland Security vans. A group of officers in blue uniforms and black body armor stood there, discussing the situation, and Caina recognized one of them. “Wait, I know that man.” She pointed towards the vans.
“Who is he?” said Nadia.
“The overall commander of the New York City branch of Homeland Security,” said Caina.
Nadia blinked. “You know him? And he’ll listen to you?
“Fairly well,” said Caina. “And yes. He’s one of the few people who know that I’m a shadow agent for the High Queen. He will listen to me if we make our case.”
“Great,” said Nadia. “I’ll Cloak and get us there.”
She held out her hand, and Caina took it again. Nadia took several deep breaths and cast the Cloak spell once more, and the silver light surrounded her. She led the way across the lawn, and Caina and Nadia passed unseen between the barricade and the perimeter.
Then Caina and Nadia were among the Homeland Security officers. The men facing the barricade had set up several machine gun nests and rocket launchers pointing at the barricade. Caina saw dozens of officers wearing heavy body armor and carrying M-99 carbines. They had the kind of firepower they needed to storm the mansion and wipe out Navarre and his men, but they would take a lot of casualties in the process.
And hundreds of hostages would die in the crossfire.
Nadia stopped at the conference between the two vans. A half-dozen Homeland Security officers stood talking with a man of about forty. He had black hair shot through with gray and dark circles beneath his eyes, his face marked with hints of old strain. Despite that, he stood erect, listening as the officers discussed the situation. He wore standard-issue Homeland Security tactical armor, and his only sign of rank was a cluster of stars on his shoulder.
“Okay,” said Caina. “Let’s talk to him.”
Nadia nodded. “You do the talking.”
She released the Cloak spell, and the silver glow vanished.
“General Dorius!” said Caina, raising her hands, and Nadia followed suit.
The Homeland Security officers whirled, raising their weapons. Under other circumstances, Caina would have found it fascinating to watch their reactions. There was surprise at first, their rifles snapping up. Then puzzlement and relief when they saw that the newcomers were two women. Concern and suspicion followed when they realized that the two women were armed.
“General Dorius,” said Caina. “We have news.”
Martin Dorius, Homeland Security commander for New York City, blinked at her several times.
“Caina Amalas?” said Martin, frowning.
“Yes,” said Caina. “This is my friend Nadia. We just escaped from inside the mansion, and we have news we must share with you.”
Martin nodded, still frowning, and pointed at one of his men. “Get Parson. We need to find out if they’re who they say they are, or if they are using illusion spells.” The officer turned and ran off, and Martin’s gaze swung back to Caina. “I need to make sure you’re not a trick. The Rebels seem to have at least one wizard with them.”
“Sensible,” said Caina. She could have told Martin that they were not illusionary, but while Martin knew she was one of the High Queen’s shadow agents, he didn’t know that she was a valikarion.
The officer returned with a thirtyish man wearing the black uniform of the Wizard’s Legion, the High Queen’s personal force of human wizards. Likely the Legionary wizard had been in New York as part of the cleanup from the Rebel attack and had been drafted into the response to Navarre’
s attack. The Legionary gave Caina and Nadia a hostile look and cast the spell to sense magical forces.
“They are not illusions, General Dorius,” said the Legionary. “And yet…” His eyes went wide as he looked at Nadia. “The short girl has an exceptionally powerful magical aura.”
Martin frowned. “How exceptionally?”
“She’s a wizard,” said the Legionary, and Nadia grinned at him. “At least the equal of any member of the Legion. Maybe stronger.”
“Don’t worry, General,” said Nadia. “Miss Amalas and I have the same boss.”
“I see,” said Martin. “Very well.” He turned to the other officers. “Continue preparations for the assault. I need a moment to speak with our visitors. But alert me at once if there is any sign of activity or there is any change in the demands from that idiot with a megaphone.”
“Sir.” The officers and the Legionary went about their tasks. Martin beckoned, and he led Caina and Nadia to one of the vans at the back of the perimeter.
“All right,” said Martin. “We can talk here for a few moments.” He looked at Nadia. “Who the hell are you?”
“It’s like she said,” said Caina. “She works for the High Queen, too.”
“Your wife is that doctor, isn’t she?” said Nadia. “The one who works at Kardamnos Memorial Hospital, the head of the emergency room or something.”
Martin frowned. “You’ve met her.”
Nadia grinned. “I tend to get shot at a lot.”
“Wait,” said Martin. “I remember you. You were the woman on that video with the nuclear bomb, the Inquisition agent.”
Nadia sighed. “Yeah.”
“The Director of Homeland Security sent out a classified briefing about you,” said Martin. “He wanted all the branch commanders to know who you were.”
“That’s just swell,” said Nadia. “But I hope it means you’ll listen to me.”
“What the hell is going on?” said Martin. “We’ve been getting conflicting reports, but it seems like a group of Rebel survivors has taken over Baron Kaldmask’s mansion and is holding several thousand people hostage.”
Cloak & Ghost: Rebel Cell Page 7
