DIRE : TIME (The Dire Saga Book 3)

by Andrew Seiple

  Suppressing fire, assholes. Never send a rent-a-cop to do a grunt’s job.

  She spared a glance to either way down the hall, saw it empty. The lab they were looking for was just north, sealed with a heavy blast door. Didn’t matter, Kirsten wasn’t going in that way.

  Radio chatter from inside the room. They were calling in contact. Reinforcements would be here any minute. She moved to the near wall, to the side of the door, and looked down at the stunned guard, taking stock of his gear. And smiled, as she saw silver tape on a pair of cylinders, and the pistol grip of a heavy-duty taser.

  They shouted in alarm as she slung the first cylinder into the room. Then they were too busy coughing as the tear-gas grenade billowed out. Bunny backed away, tasered the first one out of the door, held her breath as she shoulder-rushed the next one behind him. Her eyes reddened and misted, but her target had gone through the worst of it to get out and had it worse than she, so she managed to get the gun away from him, toss it into the gassed room.

  Then, every instinct shouting at her to run, get away, she staggered into the white-misted room, shutting her eyes and holding her arm up in front of her face, trying to breathe slowly, breathe through her sleeve. Just like chem training. You can do this. Just like chem training. You got this.

  More shouting from outside, but she was coughing then. She crawled into a corner, put her hands behind her head, and waited. It had never been about winning this fight. It had been about buying time, and disarming the guys on scene so they couldn’t kill her. That had worked.

  How much time had passed? Hard to say. The tear gas sure as shit wouldn’t clear before—

  The world shimmered, visible even through the mass of pain and sodden tears that was her vision. Everything hummed, and then the air was clean.

  “Tracer chemical in the blood for the win!” Martin shouted. “Whoa. Shit, Bunny, you okay?”

  “Water!” she managed to wheeze.

  Ten minutes later, shivering in the drafty warehouse with a towel wrapped around her, she managed to see again. Kirsten was squatting ten feet away, a dust mask around her nose and mouth, staring. Bunny winced, blinked her own throbbing eyes. “We get the thing?” she asked. “Was the mission successful, at least?”

  “Ja.”

  Bunny sagged back against a crate, closing her eyes and letting the tears fall where they may. They were only the first of the evening, she knew. Everything was fucked now, thanks to Arachne.

  How the fuck did I get here?

  CHAPTER 8: DIRE – BAD MOON RISING

  “Magic was a myth to the world, until the Nazis dragged it screaming into the light of day, and used it to bolster their forces on all fronts. To this day, it's rumored that there are still creatures bound to their service, waiting in the darker parts of the world, waiting for instructions that will never come. How angry, those entities must be. How terrible their wrath, if they ever find a way to slip their bindings...”

  --Cameron Athame, self-styled sorcerer and occult researcher

  The historians never mention the smell of shit when they talk about war.

  It’s a basic fact that when a human dies, their bowels empty. We’d killed near on fifty Nazis there around that little unnamed farm. We couldn’t risk a single one escaping, and so Unstoppable had shown them no mercy. That was a lot of blood. A lot of shit and piss, soaking into the dry ground, as greatcoated bodies lay twisted where they’d fallen. They’d put up a hell of a fight, true, but Unstoppable had lived up to his name.

  With the windows of the farmhouse quite thoroughly shattered from the sound blast I’d thrown their way, there was no way to escape the miasma. So we did our best to ignore it as we regrouped and took stock of the situation. I hadn’t lost consciousness despite my pain and suffering, and counted that as a win. I counted the respect in Bryson’s eyes when he looked my way a bigger victory.

  I was more than a time-traveling nuisance, now. I was an asset, even if my tactics were unconventional. And with the loss of two of our party, he needed all we could get.

  “Both Croats, traitors?” He shook his head as he paced back and forth in front of the desk I was occupying. I’d put my talents to use, scanning every note we could find. That included the departed Father’s letters, and the code books we’d found in Tadej’s duffel bag. Unstoppable had tried to help translate the German parts, until I shooed him away to clean up. He'd been dripping on the papers.

  “The Croats were a long shot anyway,” Unstoppable commented, toweling his hair dry. The man had taken a bath to wash the blood off. His and his enemies, mixed alike. He’d reassured me he was pretty much immune to diseases, and winked as he’d said that. I wasn’t sure why he’d winked, but I was glad he wasn’t at risk. I was beginning to see why they’d given him a red costume.

  “Well, good news and bad,” I said, putting down the code books, and brushing the priest’s letters away. “They were betraying us to two different factions, by the sound of it.”

  “The Thulites and Katzen, then.” Bryson stopped pacing. “Good to have that confirmed, at least.”

  “I think I know why I didn’t sense them getting ready to betray us,” Dottie said, perching on one of the few intact chairs in the room.

  I’d been wondering about that. After her little talk earlier about empathy, it seemed like catching traitors would be easy. So how had she missed them?

  “Tadej, well, he was always lustful.” She colored. “After a while I stopped looking for anything more, and just started avoiding him.”

  “Understandable,” Bryson said. “But Father Kovacs? How did you miss him?”

  “When I was sweeping the field, after— after everything was done, I noticed that I could still feel him. Like he was still alive, and calm as ever. Gave me half a fright, I don’t mind saying.” She dug around in her purse, pulled out a handkerchief-wrapped object, and put it on the table. “Open that, please. Don't touch it directly.”

  I did, revealing a black rock, about the size of my nose. It had a strange character engraved on it, with gleaming gold lining the channels. Looked kind of like a jagged backwards “F”.

  “Okay. What is this thing?”

  “A rune. Reversed Ansuz, meaning deception.” She grimaced. “It’s a talisman made to make Father Kovacs seem more trustworthy.”

  “Hm. Why shouldn’t we touch it?” I asked.

  “Well, this type of talisman sometimes has a link back to their crafter. Someone very skilled made this. They’ll be able to find it if they go looking, maybe see its holder. Maybe do horrible things to them, if they establish a mystical link.”

  I blinked. Magic was weird.

  Bryson considered. “A link can work both ways, yes?”

  “Well, yes. But I’m hardly the equal to whoever made this. Really I’m a dabbler, a hedge witch at best. This is a master’s work, and outside of my tradition anyways.”

  “Wellp, no reason to keep this around.” I picked up a roll of papers and knocked the rune into a trash can. When I looked up, Bryson was staring my way.

  “So who are we dealing with, Doctor?”

  “Someone named Herr Mitternacht.” I smiled. It translated to ‘Mister Midnight’. “The last message sent ordered Kovacs to try to ensure the capture of yourself and Unstoppable. In the event that he couldn’t do that, he was to kill Dorothy, Henri, and myself in roughly that order.” My smile faded. “He was to consider himself expendable, and reminded that his niece and nephew would be returned only if this mission was successful.”

  “Okay, this guy sounds like a real winner. I’m kind of hoping I get to meet him before we’re all done here,” Unstoppable said. His grin was gone for once.

  “Definitely a Thulite,” Dottie said. “You’ll probably get your wish. They’re big on divination, if he wants to, he’ll find us.”

  “Okay, everyone seems to know that term but—” I tapped my chest. “What are Thulites? Can someone explain that, please?”

  It was Henri, silent Henri, wh
o answered. “This war has many groups behind it. Many conspiracies. In Germany, the Society of Thule. In France, it was once La Société des Fantȏmas, before Tesla and Jacob broke them.” He looked to Bryson.

  Bryson looked away. “We were idiots. We don’t deserve praise for that.”

  I studied him myself. Hard to reconcile this heroic man of action with the sinister Morgenstern of the future. What happened, in the decades between then and now, to change him? What set him on his anti-powers agenda?

  Henri continued, oblivious to my unspoken questions. “The only way to destroy them was to drag them into the light. Reveal their corruption, and their crimes against us all, both French and Germans.”

  “It threw the country into anarchy.” Bryson muttered, not meeting Henri’s eyes. “It gave Hitler the perfect excuse to invade.”

  “He would have invaded anyway.”

  “We’ll never know.”

  “The Thulites?” I prompted. “What of them?”

  “Society of Thule,” Dottie clarified. “They’re an occult order. Like Crowley's Golden Dawn, but far worse. They had shadow wars with La Société des Fantȏmas. But unlike the Fantomes, whose power lay in ordinary criminals and powered super-criminals, the Thulites reached out to the supernatural for power.”

  “The world at large was mostly clueless to the existence of true magic before the Thulites began expanding their ambitions,” Bryson said, taking out a handkerchief and mopping his forehead. “Germany’s never had much in the way of powered individuals. So the Thulites countered by binding, bargaining, and sometimes flat-out enslaving supernatural entities.”

  That sounded familiar. “Like vampires?” I asked. I’d had some dealings with people who augmented themselves with vampire blood. Such dealings had usually involved flamethrowers and headshots.

  “At least a few.” Bryson said. “Most of them on the eastern front, thank god.”

  “Less now that Der Schwarze Ritter is out there,” Henri said. “But he is coming back west. Called back to Berlin yesterday.”

  That caused a serious stir. Dottie gasped, Bryson froze mid-pace, and Unstoppable stood straight up, losing his grin for once.

  “Wh-what?” Bryson stuttered. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

  Henri tapped his forehead. “I received the message during the battle.”

  “This Schwarze Ritter is a problem?” I asked.

  “He’s the sole reason Germany’s Operation Barbarossa survived the winter.” Bryson muttered. “He and Koschei are almost single-handedly holding the front, murdering his way through Russia. They’ve got no one to stop him. It might be the world’s got no way to stop him.”

  “They call me Unstoppable,” the hero shrugged, “but honestly, I’m pretty much just a guy who heals fast. The Black Knight’s in a whole ‘nother league.”

  “Well.” I tapped the code books we’d gotten from Tadej. “Berlin’s where they’ve taken Tesla. Which means...”

  Bryson rubbed his eyes. “The timing’s too close to be coincidence. We’ll have to face Schwarze Ritter to get Nikola back.”

  Henri shook his head. “Maybe, not for certain. He does not move so fast, and there is much of Russia to cross.”

  “How accurate is your information?” I asked him.

  “Very.” He smiled. “I am a member of Égalité.” I frowned at him, shook my head.

  “Time traveler, remember? Ignorant of this era?”

  Bryson explained. “Without getting bogged down in details, Égalité is both one of the three warlords of France and the name of the movement of partisans following him. The man in charge has the ability to share powers amongst his followers. Henri took telepathy for this mission. Égalité himself has been sending messages to keep us informed on the overall reaction of the Nazis and their allies, and whatever applicable tidbits he can scrounge.”

  “He’s a commie.” Dottie said. Henri shot her an indecipherable look, and she crossed her arms, as she continued. “Strong ties with the Reds, so the information’s probably good.” Henri nodded, mollified.

  “I have also sent back to him that the three Eisenjötun stationed in Zagreb were destroyed. That has been passed on to Allied command, they might use it.”

  Well, that was something.

  “Okay, we’re getting sidetracked.” said Unstoppable. “Anything else we can use from the traitors’ messages?”

  “Possibly.” I tapped the notes from Father Kovacs. “After he took care of us or we were captured, he was to report back to Mitternacht.” I switched hands, held up the code books from Tadej. “For his part, this says that von Katzen is in charge of the overall operation, but tactical and strategic considerations are to be undertaken following the orders of someone called Eisengeist.”

  A series of quick glances, and a lot of shaking heads. None of my new teammates knew that name. Bryson in particular was disturbed. “Von Katzen’s not a subtle sort. He crows his triumphs to the skies, and parades his new inventions in front of Hitler like a child seeking attention. If he’s deferring things to a code-named subordinate, this is either a new development or a dangerous secret of some sort.”

  “Well, whatever the case, Eisengeist is taking charge of Tesla in Berlin.”

  “Don’t suppose it mentions where in Berlin that’s happening?” Unstoppable asked.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Bryson shook his head. “The fact that they even told a double-agent this in a dispatch is sloppy. I’m half-wondering if it’s a trap. Then again, von Katzen’s always been a braggart. It is possible that he’s truly this arrogant.”

  I nodded. “Then we have a goal. Get to Berlin and retrieve Tesla before Der Schwarze Ritter arrives.”

  “That’s... about the size of it,” Bryson concurred. He cleared his throat, frowned, and blew his nose into his handkerchief. “Unstoppable, have you taken stock of the assets we can salvage from this site?”

  “We’ve got a couple of heavy-duty trucks out back. Guessing that’s how they got the troops and the steel cat things out here.”

  “We’ve also got enough Nazi uniforms to disguise ourselves,” Dottie piped in. “Well, you lot, obviously. Not me or the Doctor, here. Not too many women in the Jerries’ military, dear,” she explained, with a tiny smile.

  “Spare uniforms salvaged from their packs, I think.” Bryson said. “Less feces to deal with that way.”

  “I can forge any papers that are needed,” Henri said. “They have some already, easy enough to adjust them. Someone back home knows how. I can ask if I run across a problem.”

  I grinned. “And we’ve got two of those steel-cat-things. Should be able to pilot one.”

  Unstoppable raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t even looked inside’em. This is your first time runnin’ into them, right? You sure you can handle that?”

  My smile had many teeth and little humor. “Doubt many things but don’t doubt that. If it’s human-made she can drive, pilot, or steer it.”

  Bryson pursed his lips. “You’ll probably want the one that I electrocuted. I doubt they had anything more electronically sophisticated than a radio, so there shouldn’t be any major damage to it. Certainly easier than sluicing out the cockpit of the poor fellow you liquefied.”

  “No electronic components?” I blinked.

  “No, simply good German engineering, hydraulics, and a high-performance diesel engine. Well, perhaps a battery for ignition, but it should have been properly grounded. Von Katzen’s a stickler for that sort of thing.”

  A mecha with no electronic components to speak of... I was intrigued. My fingers had been itching for a new project.

  “Of course, you’ll have to get under the hood while we’re on the road. I trust that won’t be a problem?” My smile stretched into a sneer. Bryson met it with one of his own. “I rather thought not.”

  It didn’t take me long to figure out how to pilot the thing at all. The smell of scorched hair and fried fat lingered inside the cockpit, but I’d dealt with worse.
And after guiding it up onto the back of an enclosed truck, we hit the road.

  I tinkered with it as best I could, before giving it up. We had only one lantern salvaged, and it was dark enough that I’d have to wait until morning’s light to make much progress. It was enough that we had the thing if we needed it.

  Clambering out, I heard a throat clear in the darkness. A dark shape next to me, visible in the dim light from outside.

  “Dottie?”

  “Naw. It’s me.” Unstoppable. “I don’t really need to sleep, so I’m keepin’ watch back here. Everyone else is up front.”

  I nodded. “We should be good. The sonic rifle destroyed the components of their radio when it went off. Pursuit is unlikely for at least a few more hours.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll come. Still doesn’t matter, this’ll get us closer. Only a few hundred miles from here to Berlin.”

  I shook my head, remembered he couldn’t see it. “She’s looked at the maps. The roads between here and there are pretty bad, and not made for a straight transition. A lot of conflicting routes, and there’s a war on. Sooner or later one of the checkpoints we come to won’t buy our story or our papers.”

  “Now you sound like Jake.”

  “Bryson know you call him that?”

  “When I hear his teeth grinding I figure he’s heard me.” A flash of white teeth. The man really did have a nice smile.

  I chuckled. “It’s just too easy. The world itself seems to annoy him.”

  “Older than he looks. Seen a lot of trouble from it, too. Can’t have been easy growing up like— like he is.”

  “Ah. You know about that?”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t bother me much. I’ve seen way worse.”

  I didn’t doubt that.

  He sighed. “Before I got into the service, it mighta bothered me that he likes guys. But honestly, after this many missions, I don't care so much. He's one of the good guys, he fights the Nazis. So whatever or whoever he does things with in his spare time is his business and not mine. Christ, the Nazis are a horrorshow.”