Iron Edge

by P. S. Power

  Red, who hadn’t given his name at all, waved at the small blue door.

  “Through there, sir. We can’t go in. We’ll wait here for you.” The idea that they didn’t have the same clearance wasn’t spoken out loud.

  It was a trick, of course, he didn’t doubt. Not a trap, but the men with him were being led to think he was more important than he was for some reason. Which, George kind of guessed would mean that whoever was in charge wanted him to understand they weren’t planning to use him as a patsy. Even though that would be on the table still.

  That was always the hidden part of assassination. No matter how well you were treated, you could be tossed under the bus in an instant. At the door, the thing popped open, allowing him in. There was no visible camera, which meant that the sensors were hidden well, nothing else. They probably had a brain scan in place, as well as a hundred other things that he didn’t even have a name for now. Not after twelve years of being out of the game.

  Inside there was a hallway, which was only ten feet long, and another door. Steel gray this time, which required him to put his right eye to a scanner in order to get inside. That kind of thing was familiar enough that he just did it. Surprised that there wasn’t a guard outside the door.

  Once he got in, there was a single desk, in a room that was about ten by ten. There was nothing else in the space, other than the nice wooden desk, two chairs and a single man. General Sayner. Unlike the version in Stena, who always seemed a little drifty and out of it, this one locked eyes with him hard and nodded. Then he half stood, his right hand coming out to shake.

  “Major Elder. Welcome.” He settled again and waved for the man to sit. “The President was most pleased with how your mission went, by the way. Now, we need to debrief on this. We’re going to record it all. You’re under a brain scan, as well as several other devices that can tell if you’re telling the truth or not. Just be honest about it all.”

  George smiled then, and shrugged.

  “Well, you know that I have brain damage, so don’t be shocked to find out that I’m insane. The job was done, but I wouldn’t have picked me to do it, to be honest.”

  The other man smiled then.

  “So I’ve been led to understand. No problem. Just tell us what you experienced.”

  He did that, covering the land of Stena, what was going on there as well as the fireball man at the assassination. When he finished, the General looked at him for a while, then nodded. He pushed a button which had a computer rise out of the desk, which was neat, but a bit too movie spy to be realistic. It was a nice seeming machine but not that different from what George had at home.

  The big change up was, after some tapping, that the whole screen was able to turn around so that he could see it.

  Sayner spoke, his voice grim.

  “Chicago. One minute before the blast. Pay attention to the man in the blue jacket on the left of the screen.” The video wasn’t high resolution, but it was possible to make out that it was the same man as earlier.

  “That’s him. Fireball man.”

  That got the General to tap on his computer, possibly making a note of things. Except that the video sped up, the guy making hand gestures, clearly muttering something. Speaking words that weren’t heard. After a while, about as long as had taken place at the battle, the world exploded, just as the man pointed his fingers. You could see a line of blue leaving them, moments before that took place. Then the video ended.

  “Ahmed Sahur. He came out of nowhere about four years ago. A college student here on a student visa from Oman. His family has money, but after a year of partying and making a tool of himself, he moved to Dearborn and hooked up with Mullah Abejine. Our sources from inside the mosque have suggested that he’s risen in the organization rather quickly for a frat boy.”

  George nodded.

  “I bet. At least if you saw the same thing I did there?” He was actually asking. “I mean, it looks like he used some kind of power to cause that blast, doesn’t it?”

  The gray man gave him an unpleasant look for a moment, then nodded.

  “Yes. It really does look like that. Trust me, this is not leaving anyone feeling happy. We were thinking alien incursions. You’re saying that it might be magic from another world? Explain that.”

  He did, covering everything, which had the screen turned back around, and a call to be made by the General, to someone. They didn’t speak for a while after that. Not until after the call was returned.

  “I see. That might fit. Thanks, Brad.”

  Hanging the land line up, a secure phone line, given the facility they were in, the old man laughed a bit.

  “Fucking hell, Elder. You’re right, this is insane. It all fits, but… I can’t believe it. Which isn’t important. We have evidence. That has to trump what I think. We need to take this man out. We can’t have a walking nuclear bomb in the continental U.S.”

  The problem there would be in finding him again. Which wasn’t actually George’s job. Not that he didn’t need to handle the whole thing, but the might of the intelligence community was greater than his ability to go to Dearborn and try to track the man himself.

  It was so obvious that Sayner didn’t mention it to him, just starting the process.

  “So, Major… Are you in on that part? It sounds like things have been hard for you, over the last decade. I can’t even imagine how difficult this has been. We’ll understand if you don’t feel up to it.”

  George really didn’t, but shrugged.

  “Yeah. I’m not really in balance here. I mean, even with this confirmation, I can’t trust that this is real, you know?”

  Instead of reassuring him, the General just stared at him for a moment.

  “I understand. Still, in this world, even if it’s in your head, you’re doing the right thing. I’m not certain any of us can ever do more than that. You aren’t waving your arms and acting incoherently, even if the duality of things isn’t real. There may not be two worlds, but the pieces do seem to fit, so I have to suggest you go with it. Live your life as well as you can.”

  It was great advice, if hard to do.

  “That’s the plan. I don’t know if I’d trust important things to me, given all this.” He waved his hand, but meant his life.

  General Sayner picked up the idea, shifting in his chair a bit.

  “Which is correct. You need to accept that you’re living in two worlds, not insane. Even if you can’t actually see it that way all the time. So, you’re in?”

  “I’m in. If nothing else, I know to duck the wall of flame. That might be harder to explain to other people. Can we locate this man? Ahmed Sahur?”

  There was a slow nod then, from the other man.

  “We’ll get him. It might take a few days to work up an action package, so get home and wait. You have your cover operation in play there? Working at a garage?” He spoke the words as if that were the natural order of things.

  George shook his head, but smiled.

  “You mean my real life? It isn’t the cover. It’s just what I do.”

  That got the man to stand up, his hand coming out again. That was soft, compared to George’s. If the man noticed that at all, he didn't let it show.

  “Understood, Major Elder. That’s the best kind of cover, after all.”

  He finally asked about that part, not that it bothered him.

  “Major?”

  There was a shrug then, as the man moved toward the door behind George, getting him to stand and move along with him. A bit tiredly. He’d been awake or on short sleep for long enough to be a real issue. At the door, before it was opened up, the man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

  “The President felt that we owed you something, as a reward. We can’t give you a medal, obviously, so you get a promotion. It isn’t enough, but we can only do so much. Thanks for your service, Major. We’re with you. Keep that in mind, even if things get hard.”

  “You mean the part where I’m probably imagining a whol
e world, if not two of them?”

  “That’s the bit I mean, yes. If you need to talk about it, we have people, or you can get in touch with me, personally. We won’t abandon you. Trust that.”

  “Thanks.”

  When he worked his way back out, having to prove he was himself with a retinal scan again, the car was still waiting. There was no speaking this time, but he was handed a ticket at Dulles, by the red haired man.

  “The plane leaves in two hours. You’ll want to hurry, in case the line is slow.” Then the three men left him there, as he walked into the airport. He kind of wanted to fall asleep, but didn’t, since missing his plane wasn’t going to work well for him. It wasn’t late, but it would be by the time he got home. On the good side, he had his own car at the airport on the other side. It would be a bit of a drive though.

  A dangerous one, but he made it, and after several hours of travel, not thinking about what was coming at all, he climbed into bed, drifting off instantly. Morning would come and facing it exhausted would help no one at all.

  His dreams were all about massive explosions. Ones that took place in two different worlds. He tried to stop them, but failed over and over again. That wasn’t helpful to him, George decided as he got up at seven in the morning. That was late for him, but by hurrying, he managed to get some eggs and bacon down, then, cleaned up for the day, got to work by eight.

  Gary and Wendy were both there already, if only by a few minutes.

  Smiling, he waved at them both, as if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. For him it had been a while. They did it back though, being nice people. Good ones, really. The kind that deserved to live in a world that wasn’t going to blow up on them at a moment’s notice.

  “George!” Gary slapped him on the shoulder, then looked at the empty shop. “Well, we’re here and ready. I don’t suppose you have anything to do?”

  He actually did, so nodded and smiled.

  “You know, I was thinking that I could repaint the George-mobile? Maybe do something that will get a bit of female attention? I need the practice, if we’re going to add bodywork to the repertoire here.”

  Instead of acting like that was stupid, his boss smiled.

  “Great plan. Let’s set that up?”

  Enough work came in to make it interesting that day, but at the end of it he had a freshly painted vehicle. It moved from silver to red. A highly polished sheen to it, as well as shining new chrome rims. Those cost him a bit, but the paint had been free. A gift from Gary and Wendy.

  Who, after all, seemed to worry about him and his lack of female company.

  Chapter thirteen

  The trees gave him cover, but the raw fact was that the Tollan Chief had managed to get too far ahead of him to find. Even the other men that had chased the fellow were gone now. George couldn’t hear them, much less get a visual on their locations. It was tempting to turn back. If he wasn’t going to be able to do anything useful, then heading into the dark of the night wasn’t a great plan. Part of him wanted to stop and he nearly did, when part of the world ahead of him turned blue and roared like thunder at close range.

  An explosion.

  Large, but nothing compared to the vast thing from earlier.

  Nodding, George moved toward it. It probably meant that Captain Herret and the men with him had just died, after all. Also that the Chief wasn’t doing that well. He’d made the world blow up again, but this was much smaller. Weaker and while lethal, probably meant that the man was too tired to do anything bigger. It wasn’t needed, but from what little George understood of that kind of thing, the Wizard didn’t actually get to pick how powerful the effects they used were. Not totally. It had to do with how much energy they had at the moment.

  If it had been George being hunted, he would have tried to be on the far side of the blast zone. Probably directly to the south, since that was just how humans tended to work. In straight lines. So, if he could find the area that had been destroyed, the other man would be near there.

  Resting, most likely. After all, no one ran at night, if they could help it. He kept falling and it was really hard to keep going in the right direction. There was nothing to tell him where he needed to go other than a soft smell of wood smoke. Thankfully, when he ran up on the right spot, hours later, there were no open flames. Dashing headlong into a forest fire would have been a poor plan. He could see the glow of it, but still had to go around. The whole area was far too hot to approach.

  In the morning, he actually found the man he was looking for. That shocked him, since the guy was just lying there, on the ground, looking like he’d collapsed. Unfortunately, George hadn’t managed to sneak up on the guy, so he rallied a bit, standing and muttering. There was a gesture toward him, but nothing happened. Probably due to exhaustion.

  The other man just pulled a knife. It seemed to be the only thing that he had left. For his part, George had his sword still. Looking at the situation, he nodded.

  “Well. It looks like we need to settle this, doesn’t it, Ahmed?” That got him looked at strangely, but after a moment, the man nodded.

  “You, too, live in multiple lands?” He had a thick accent, and used the words as an excuse to move a bit closer, as if he could trick his way into knife range.

  It might have worked, if George wasn’t planning to kill the man anyway.

  “Or, as I like to think of it, I live in multiple delusions.” He struck out with his blade. The fight was vicious, but the small bronze blade wasn’t up to handling the steel in his hand. The skill level just wasn’t there, either.

  The Wizard tried to cast another spell, but whatever was being said was stopped as his head was taken off. That took a while, since George was running on fumes and had been for a while. Thankfully he didn’t have to fight ten men this time.

  He took the head all the way off, wrapping it in the man’s white fur shirt. It was large enough for that, with some left over, so using the staff the man had, which was made of wood, but with a horned animal skull on the top he managed to tie off a bindle on a pole. It probably made him seem like a hobo from a nineteen-thirties cartoon, but it was better than hugging the man’s head to his body for the whole walk back. It took a while, but only hours, since he could move a lot faster in the daylight. Even aching like he was.

  Interestingly the field of enemies was gone. There didn’t seem to be any prisoners either. Some of them had probably escaped, but if they’d seen him coming, the men had wisely hidden. The thought got him to smile, since he had nearly nothing left. One of the boys that had been brought in to build up the ranks of barbarians would have been able to ambush him fairly easily at the moment. No one tried it, for whatever reason. He just walked across the battlefield, dead bodies still in place, being eaten by crows and ravens in several instances. People walked the field, filling bags with loot from the dead.

  In that way he didn’t look all that out of place, since closer to the battle line he found men doing similar things. War trophies. He couldn’t complain, having done something similar for himself.

  As he closed with the command area, it was Regina who noticed him first. She called out to him, her face beaming.

  “George! You live… I was afraid to check, after the thunder last night.” Her eyes went to the bag made of a fur shirt, and went wide. “Did you?”

  The High General and General Sayner walked up. One of them looked pleased enough to see him. The High General wasn’t so much. Instead of speaking, he hunkered down and slowly, painfully, opened the bundle.

  “Their Wizard Chief. I found him this morning. We fought. Man to man.” Clearly, he’d won, but the point was for the High General. It hadn’t been an assassination.

  As if honor was important now. They’d had to stop the man. There was no other way. Now, after the Chief was dead, they had a chance of not having another war as soon as a new army could be created. Really, the Tollan should probably leave them alone for the next generation, at least. They’d lost too many men to eas
ily absorb the damage.

  On seeing the head, the fur and the staff, the High General stroked his beard, then sighed. It seemed a bit put upon, but cold or not, the words sounded right.

  “Excellent work, Captain Elder. We managed a total victory here. The costs were high. We lost nearly half the men we started with, to the evil tricks of the Wizard. Knowing that it won’t easily happen again will let the king rest easy, when he learns of it. I’ll recommend you to him.” He looked at the head on the ground, then shrugged. “Would it be possible to borrow your trophies, Captain? I think that the king might wish to see them. Or, perhaps not wish to, but might need to.”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t want to keep them. I was going to bury the head, or burn it, after proving it had been taken. The king comes first, of course.”

  Instead of taking him to task for the idea of disposing of it with courtesy, the High General simply looked away.

  “It will be done, as you suggest. Thank you, Captain Elder.”

  The man didn't take it himself, calling to a lower ranked person to handle that and get the evidence to a wagon. Then he walked away, without saying anything more. General Sayner laughed, darkly, as soon as the High General was out of earshot.

  “That’s a man who isn’t going to be happy for a while. Probably not until he’s given credit for his brilliance in enlisting you. Which is neither here, nor there. Any word of Captain Herret? The other brave men who gave chase?”

  He had to shake his head then.

  “No. I hold out hope, but the blast… It was big enough to kill them all, if aimed right.”

  That got nods from everyone that could hear him say the words. Finally, he was left alone with Regina, his wife.

  Which was a strange thing, now that he thought about it again.

  “So, we’re married. Where do you want to live?”

  She smiled at him, her face sad, but also hopeful.

  “We’re staying together, now that the battle is done? I figured to be tossed aside, to be honest. Witches aren’t often loved well. Everyone would understand, I’m certain.”