World Divided: Book Two of the Secret World Chronicle-ARC
Page 50
“Uh, yeah. That was totally my reason, too.” John did his best to suppress a smirk, and failed miserably.
On his private freq, Vickie blew a rasberry in his ear. “Damn it, bonehead, at least try and cover it up, will ya?”
“I tried,” he whispered. “Just not very hard.”
“I see the operational necessity,” Pride said, gravely. But there was a touch of both a smirk and a little guilt at the same time.
Nat didn’t even bother to cover her smirk, but as the footage finished, she sobered. “Comrade Murdock, this was being strong psychological blow against svinya. It was more than good that you sent message. Am seeing in behind-sight was necessary.”
“Murdock mentioned Doolittle’s Raid at the beginning of the op, in the planning phase, Commissar,” Vickie said. “I think he should give us his thoughts.”
“The old man told me a little about that,” Pride said, his brow creasing. “The Aces kept Divine Wind busy while Doolittle’s bunch got in, and I never could see the point. They didn’t do that much damage.”
John was silent for a few long moments, absorbed in his own thoughts. “Up until this point, we’ve been reactin’ to these bastards. We’ve done well enough, now that we know how t’deal with them. But y’ask any general, down back to ancient times, and they’ll all tell y’that reactin’ to violence ain’t any way to win war. And we most certainly are at war.” He paused, then continued, “This is different. We found them, instead of them findin’ us. We went in there, and wrecked their toys. Not only that, we got the info needed to go and keep on ruinin’ their day. That means somethin’. In the scheme of things, this hasn’t hurt their ability to operate and make life difficult for us. But—” and John took the time to let a wide half-grin spread across his face, “this is the first time that we’re gonna make life truly difficult for them. They’re gonna start to think ’bout how we did this. And they’re gonna fear about how much worse it’ll be next time. Goddamn it, next time…we’re gonna really make ’em bleed.”
EPILOGUE
There it was, our first real victory, one where they knew it was us that hit them, hit them hard, and got away with it. And we hurt them. John was right about this being like Doolittle’s Raid on Tokyo. An enemy that thought it had everything its own way had just discovered it could be hit, hit with planning and precision, and hit out of nowhere. The psychological value of this was immense, not only against them but for us. This had been a command and control center; though they had been in the process of moving out of it, it was still active, and more than anything else, the win here had given us that most precious of resources, intel. Those of us in the know got the word back out to the others we trusted and…and it gave us something, something that we had sorely needed.
Finally, we had hope.
Another freaking hot day, and the light gray gloves and track suit were only marginally better than the black. Vickie did her stretches methodically, remembering to breathe through them, instead of wincing and tensing up.
It still hurt like hell.
And as she started her run, it wasn’t hurting any less.
That damned wall came up much too soon. This time, though, she got her timing right. Planted her right foot where it should go. Made the first jump and catch.
Plant, plant, hold on, swing, catch…The first ten feet went fine, but she could not help but be aware of how far away the ground was getting—and then she got to that bad spot, and she started sweating from nerves as well as exertion. All she could think about was how she’d missed that hold; her pace faltered, her arms and legs started to shake…
“Move your ass, Victrix! I haven’t got all day!”
Red Djinni glared down at her from the top of the wall, jarring her out of her incipient panic.
“Breathe, blondie! Do I have to get you an MP3 player to tell you to do that too?” His tone mocked her. “Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.”
She did breathe to the rhythm he was setting, and matched her catches and holds to it. That got her over the bad spot.
“I could knit another scarf waiting for you up here.”
Five more feet.
“Seriously, my mother can climb this faster than you.”
Three. She paused.
“Giving up already?”
She snarled up at him, her breath harsh in her lungs, her side burning. “No.”
One.
She threw an arm over the top of the wall and hauled herself up beside him.
“Your timing is lousy.”
“That’s because you’ve got no rhythm,” she retorted. “Goddamn it, Djinni, why is it I’m supposed to like you again?”
“My endless charm? Because I’m suave and debonair? Pheromones—”
“Do not go there.” Vickie swung her legs over to the other side of the wall. At least getting down was easier than going up.
“Stop a minute,” Red told her. He gestured around him. “Catch your breath. Take in the view.”
She did. The actual view was pretty mundane, and nothing she couldn’t see from an office window.
The metaphorical view, however—she had never been up here before. Here she was, at the top of the climbing wall on the Le Parkour course, and the mere realization took her breath away. She found herself smiling, and glanced over at him.
The lines around his eyes were clear; the Red Djinni was smiling, too.
***
Doppelgaenger ran the entire sequence through replay, for the hundredth time, studying Red Djinni, looking for nuances he might have missed the first ninety-nine times. When he was done, he sat back.
So. With Bulwark down, the Red Djinni had taken over Bulwark’s training duties…interesting. Very interesting.
Something, surely, could be made of this. And…of the Red Djinni too.
Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
INTRODUCTION
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
INTERLUDE
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
INTERLUDE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE