by AD Starrling
A second later, a missile left Thorne’s helicopter, hissed through the air and exploded a dozen yards from the tail rotor of the Bell.
The aircraft spun violently. The pilot swore again. The shadow of a sky rise loomed on our left. The rotors hit the wall of the glass tower. Silver shards rained down inside the cabin as the helicopter scraped along the side of the building.
I glanced over my shoulder in time to see another grenade leave the rocket launcher in the second Bell helicopter. Heart thudding wildly against my ribs, I grabbed the silver cases and leapt through the port door.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Wow,’ said Anatole. He was staring at me in disbelief. ‘You are one crazy bastard.’
I winced while a paramedic cleaned the cuts on my face.
I was sitting on a kerb some thousand feet from the waters of the Potomac. Thirty minutes had passed since the Bell helicopter had crashed into a tower next to the Lee Highway. The area of Rosslyn next to the Curtis Memorial Parkway had been closed to traffic: flashing lights from the county’s fire trucks were reflected in the glass facade of the building across the road.
A few yards away, McCabe was attempting to pacify the Arlington District Two police commander. By the sound of their raised voices, things were not going well.
‘Here,’ said someone above me. I looked up and took the styrofoam container proffered by Reid. A familiar scent reached my nostrils above the rich aroma of coffee wafting from within it.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Bourbon?’
‘Ah-huh.’
‘Where’d you get it from?’ I said curiously.
‘A bar up the road,’ Reid replied, taking a sip from his own cup.
The paramedic tending to my wounds glanced at him and frowned. ‘I’m about to give him a strong painkiller. I don’t think he should be drinking alcohol.’
I sighed. ‘I’m fine, really.’
The second paramedic grunted. ‘You just jumped from an exploding aircraft into the twelfth floor of a skyscraper. You should be dead.’
‘Yeah, I get that a lot,’ I muttered. Ignoring the paramedics' deepening frowns, I raised the container to my lips and stared at the man coming up behind them.
‘Can you walk?’ said Victor.
I nodded, shrugged off the blanket around my shoulders and rose to my feet. ‘Thank you,’ I said to the speechless paramedics.
‘Hey, we need to take you to the hospital to get checked out!’ one of them finally stuttered. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you broke some ribs! And you probably have a hairline fracture under that gash in your head!’
‘They’ll heal,’ I said, and followed in Victor’s footsteps.
We strode past the smoking wreckage of the Bell 222 and headed for a black van further down the road. Costas was already inside: the Bastian Council member was inspecting the contents of the silver cases. ‘It’s the vaccine,’ he said gruffly as we climbed into the back of the vehicle and closed the doors.
I felt my heart sink. ‘The other cases must have held the virus.’
Victor pressed a hand on my shoulder. ‘You did a good job,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ll be able to help millions of people with this.’
I shook my head. ‘Not if they release the virus in the coming days. Anna told me it might take a few weeks for humans and immortals to develop protective levels of antibodies against it,’ I explained with mounting frustration. ‘Considering what they’ve been capable of to date, it wouldn’t surprise me if they decided to unleash the plague earlier than planned. Besides, Burnstein wasn’t stupid. The Crovirs are bound to have samples of the vaccine elsewhere.’
Silence ensued. ‘We have to move fast,’ Victor finally said with a sombre expression.
Costas frowned. ‘You should contact Roman.’
The blare of a phone interrupted us. Victor glanced at the number on his cell. His eyes narrowed. ‘Dvorsky here,’ he said curtly into the mouthpiece. A cold foreboding filled my veins as I watched his expression change. Seconds later, he disconnected and stared at me blindly, his face pale. ‘The Crovirs have taken the Blue Ridge compound,’ he murmured in a stunned voice. Cold sweat drenched my body at his words.
It was another half hour before we were able to leave Arlington. In the end, it took a private phone call from the President himself to stop the county commander from arresting us.
‘McCabe’s not too pleased about you taking all the bodies away,’ said Lacroix as I climbed into a van after Reid. ‘I have to admit, neither am I.’
‘It’s for the best,’ I said distractedly.
The Frenchman stared at me thoughtfully. ‘This isn’t the end of the matter, is it?’
I hesitated before answering. ‘No, it isn’t. But I’m afraid we can’t involve you further than this.’ I looked at the Frenchman steadily and tried to mask my mounting agitation. ‘We got Burnstein at least. He was one of the main players behind the incidents in Europe.’
Lacroix frowned. ‘Yes, but he wasn’t the leader, was he?’
I shook my head.
The Frenchman studied me for timeless seconds. ‘Well, good luck,’ he finally muttered with a sigh.
I nodded briskly. ‘Will you be talking to your uncle sometime soon?’
A faint smile crossed Lacroix’s face. ‘Yes. I’ll be sure to tell him that the man he trusted as a friend for so many years is not a criminal after all.’
The return to Blue Ridge took less time than our outward journey, with our convoy doing over a hundred miles an hour for the most part. The Bastian Hunters were silent for the entire trip, their expressions grim under the dirt and blood that still coated their faces.
We saw the first column of smoke when we still two miles out from the compound. ‘Shit,’ Anatole said softly as he stared through the windscreen.
The tall metal gates guarding the entrance to the complex were hanging off their hinges when we reached them. By the looks of the distorted steel plates, rocket grenades had been used to force entry into the compound. We drove through and carried on silently up the hill.
Moments later, the first bodies started to appear across the grounds. We passed three burning SUVs, their deformed carcasses testimony to the fierceness of the battle that had raged in our absence. Fires blazed in most of the buildings in the complex, the flames licking dangerously close to the surrounding trees.
It was a scene of utter devastation.
We found the largest group of Bastian Hunters at the top of the rise. It was apparent that was where they had stood their ground as the last line of defence against the enemy. Bombs had churned up clods of earth and dug craters into the ground around the main lodge. The walls of the building were riddled with bullet holes. Flames engulfed the upper level and black smoke billowed from broken windows and the rooftop. Glass cracked and shattered inside.
We exited the vehicles with our guns in hand, even though it was evident that the Crovirs had left sometime ago. ‘Verdammt!’ Victor snarled between gritted teeth while he stared at the burning building.
‘You said it, boss,’ muttered Anatole. The immortal had gone pale.
There was a groan from the bottom of the porch. One of the fallen Bastians moved and opened his eyes. He blinked slowly at the smoke-filled sky.
Victor strode to the man’s side and crouched down. ‘What happened?’ he said harshly.
The Hunter licked his lips and paused for breath. ‘They came from nowhere,’ he finally said hoarsely. Rasping coughs racked his frame and a trickle of blood passed his lips as he gasped for air. ‘There were hundreds of them.’
‘The Godards?’ I asked stiffly, gripping the Smith and Wesson so tightly that my fingers blanched.
The wounded man glanced at me in a daze. ‘The Crovirs took them,’ he whispered. His gaze shifted to Victor. ‘It was Grigoriye. He let them in.’ His words were barely audible above the muted explosion from a nearby building. ‘The man leading the Crovirs was called—Olsson.’
My heart slammed wild
ly against my ribs at his words. Victor’s eyes widened. Stunned silence fell across the porch.
‘Grigoriye betrayed us?’ said Costas rigidly. The immortal’s eyes were expressionless.
‘Yes,’ murmured the Hunter.
‘Are you sure?’ said Victor insistently. The man coughed and nodded. Shouts and cries of pain echoed across the grounds as more Bastian Hunters returned to consciousness. Victor rose and surveyed the shattered ruins of the compound. ‘Tend to the wounded,’ he finally said softly. ‘And put out those fires.’
It was another hour before we managed to piece together the events of that morning. At approximately the same time as we started our assault on the Pennsylvania Avenue tower in DC, vast troops of Crovir Hunters led by Olsson had descended upon the Blue Ridge compound in Virginia. From the Bastian Hunters’ accounts, it appeared that Grigoriye had disabled the surveillance and communications systems minutes before the Crovirs arrived. The enemy’s targeted movements across the grounds suggested they had had access to detailed maps of the complex.
The Bastian Hunters had been caught completely off guard.
‘We’re online,’ said a Bastian tech. His fingers clattered over the keyboard of the onboard computer in the rear of one of the vans. ‘They crashed the system but we’ve managed to regain access to eighty percent of the network.’
Victor nodded briskly. ‘Good. Contact the Council.’
Moments later, the monitor flickered and a room appeared on the screen. Coarse bricks lined the curved walls of the large chamber: the stones were a faded yellow and adorned with swords and shields with coats of arms. A sculptured oak table stood in the middle of a flagstone floor. Some twenty figures were seated around it.
By the frowns on their faces, they were not pleased with the interruption. I recognised Victor’s father and a few of the Council members I met in Prague.
‘How did things go in Washington?’ said Roman Dvorsky without preamble.
‘We were partially successful,’ Victor replied. ‘We have the vaccine but Thorne got away with the virus.’ He paused and glanced at me. ‘Burnstein is dead.’
Roman frowned. ‘Did you suffer many casualties?’
‘Nothing that won’t heal,’ Victor said gruffly. ‘There’s something else you need to know, hence my call. The Crovirs attacked the Blue Ridge compound in our absence.’ He looked at Costas, who stood stiffly next to him. ‘They had help.’ Shocked murmurs rose from the speakers; the Bastians around the table glanced at each other uneasily. ‘It was Grigoriye,’ said Victor finally. Roman Dvorsky looked stunned. ‘They took Anna and Tomas Godard. They also destroyed our lab and took the samples of blood she had been working on to find an alternative vaccine.’
‘You mean Soul’s blood?’ said Roman with a heavy frown.
Victor nodded.
‘But you have their vaccine now, don’t you? Then surely it doesn’t matter,’ said the Council member seated to Roman’s right.
‘I’m afraid it does matter a great deal. The Crovirs have already started their inoculation programme,’ said Victor. ‘Even if we were to give the vaccine to every immortal and human in the world today, if they choose to release the virus in the next week, millions will still die.’ He leaned back from the screen. ‘And you’re forgetting the most important thing. They now have Anna Godard in their hands. If we don’t stop them soon, Vellacrus’s plan will become a reality in a matter of weeks.’
A troubled expression crossed Roman Dvorsky’s face. Along with the fear and anger coursing through me, unease filtered through my consciousness. The Bastian leader glanced around the chamber. ‘About that,’ he began in an obvious tone of distaste. ‘There are some among us who believe we should attempt to negotiate a pact with the Crovirs.’
Stony silence descended inside the van. ‘What?’ Victor said dully. Costas’s face tightened into a stormy expression.
‘I know,’ Roman murmured apologetically. ‘I’m only expressing the views of a few members of the First and Second Councils.’ He paused, his expression hardening. ‘We still have to vote on it, of course.’
Costas leaned towards the screen. ‘What is this going to achieve?’ he snarled. ‘Vellacrus will never agree to a treaty between our races. That woman wants to exterminate us once and for all!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Are some of you so willing to forgive and forget the atrocities she has committed against our kind?’ he hissed. ‘Are you so eager to bow to her for a chance to taste true immortality that you would ignore the fact that she tried to kill our next leader only days ago?’ His voice rose to a roar. ‘And you dare call yourselves Bastians?!’
Victor placed a hand on the immortal’s shaking shoulders. ‘It’s all right, Costas.’
‘It would be wise to listen to Victor and Costas,’ said the Council member next to Roman. The immortal was frowning at the camera. ‘I will not have you doubt our allegiance to our race so easily Costas, although I understand why you would think that way.’ He glanced around the chamber, his gaze lingering on several faces. ‘I for one will definitely be voting against the idea of a pact and for a swift and aggressive retaliation.’
Victor studied the figures seated around the table. ‘When will we have your decision?’ he said.
‘Tomorrow at the earliest,’ Roman replied. ‘The Council members would like to consult with the nobles under their command.’
I stepped up to the monitor. ‘That’s too long,’ I said, not bothering to hide the resentment in my voice. Further mutters arose from the Bastians on the screen and frowns clouded several faces when recognition dawned. ‘With or without your help, I’m going after them.’
‘We’ll have an answer for you soon enough,’ said a Council member harshly. ‘And do you really think you can take the entire Crovir army on your own, half-breed?’ he added with a sneer.
Costas grunted. ‘He won’t be alone.’ The Bastian Council member glanced at me. ‘And I guarantee you that all the Bastians here today will follow him without a second thought.’
Victor stared at his father. ‘We’ll be mobilising as soon as we know where they’ve taken the Godards,’ he said quietly.
Roman Dvorsky nodded with a sombre expression. ‘I trust your judgement. Do what you think is best.’ The screen went blank. Silence descended inside the van.
‘Wow, you sure told them,’ Anatole murmured with a soft whistle. He gazed at Costas in wide-eyed admiration.
The Bastian Council member glared at him. ‘This doesn’t mean we’re friends,’ he said gruffly in my direction before storming out of the vehicle.
‘Sure.’ I gazed blankly after the disappearing figure.
A wry grimace crossed Victor’s face. ‘Don’t take it personally.’ He patted me on the shoulder. ‘It took me two hundred years to get him to exchange birthday cards.’ He turned to the Bastian tech manning the computers. ‘We need to call in some favours. Is the system fully functional yet?’
The tech nodded. ‘Yes, as of a minute ago.’
‘Good,’ said Victor. ‘I want you to contact this number on a secure line. Put it on speaker phone once you get through.’
Static echoed around the interior of the van when Dimitri Reznak answered the call moments later. His voice came through in broken fragments. ‘What happened in Washington?’
‘We got our hands on the vaccine,’ said Victor. ‘Unfortunately, Thorne got away with the virus.’ He paused and frowned. ‘Where are you?’
‘Somewhere in Egypt,’ said Reznak, his voice fading and crackling.
Victor’s eyebrows rose. ‘On Crovir business?’
‘No, not quite.’ There was a pause. ‘Just indulging in one of my pet projects.’
Victor frowned. ‘Does it have anything to do with matters at hand?’
‘I’m not sure,’ came the enigmatic reply.
‘Half of Vellacrus’s army stormed our compound in Virginia. They took Anna and Tomas Godard,’ Victor continued after a brief pause. ‘Do you know where they are?’ Static rose
from the speakers in the long silence that followed. ‘Dimitri? Are you there?’ Victor said sharply.
‘Yes,’ came the quiet reply. The Crovir noble sounded troubled. ‘That’s the first I’ve heard of it.’
Victor hesitated. ‘Do you think she suspects you?’
‘No,’ said Reznak. ‘Vellacrus is renowned for keeping her cards close to her chest.’ He paused. ‘This is likely to have been a last minute strategy. She doesn’t need the approval of the First Council for urgent tactical decisions.’ Static erupted from the line again. ‘—find out what I can—get back to you—’
The transmission ended abruptly. Victor stared at the speakers. ‘Are our satellites back online?’ he said finally.
‘Yes,’ said the Bastian tech.
‘Good. I want you to start tracking all the known Crovir facilities around the globe. There’s bound to be a lot of activity on the ground if they’re detaining the Godards in one of them.’
Dusk was falling across the mountains when I entered the main lodge a while later. Foam from the fire extinguishers coated the floor and walls of the building, turning the ash and soot into muddy slush. I made my way to the underground bunker that housed the lab and crossed the floor to the glass rooms. Glittering fragments crunched under my feet when I entered the first chamber.
Bullets had damaged most of the equipment Anna and the scientists had been using. The papers scattered across the work surfaces and the floor had been shredded by rounds and debris, rendering the writing unreadable. I paused in front of a desk and trailed my fingers across the back of Anna’s chair.
‘We’ll find them,’ said Reid behind me. I kept my back to him, my hands clasping the edge of the seat tightly while I stared into the isolation room where I had lived as a virtual prisoner for three days. The familiar scent of Pall Mall slowly clouded the air. A smoke ring drifted past my ear. ‘She’s quite a lady, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, she is,’ I said stiffly.
Silence followed. ‘Never thought I’d hear the bulldog defend you,’ Reid added drily.
Despite my inner turmoil, a faint smile crossed my lips. ‘Neither did I.’
