Collision: Book Four in the Secret World Chronicle - eARC

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Was…?”

  “Look out, coming through!” Red yelled as they broke through the ranks and ran screaming for cover. The battalion guards watched them go, stunned, until their leader recovered his wits and barked an order. As one, the Thulians raised their cannons and took aim at the fleeing ECHO operatives.

  “Schießen!”

  “Dive!” Red screamed, and shoved Mel and Silent Knight into a recessed stairwell at the top of a nearby alley. As they rolled and banged down the concrete steps, they heard the whine and whoomph as a few arm cannons went off, but they were drowned out as the earth itself seemed to buckle and groan from a massive detonation from beneath them.

  Red Team: Ultima Thule

  A flash and a scream caused John to flinch, turning away from the barrier momentarily. When he looked back, he saw that a fourth of it had been decimated on the left corner; one of the Thulian grenades, more than likely. That’s going to be a problem. With a weakness in their cover, the Kriegers could just chip away at it until they had nothing left keeping them from storming in the building.

  “Shit. Incoming!”

  One of the Blacksnake operatives pointed; it was unnecessary, however. Several squads of Kriegers were moving quickly through the smoke; armored troopers leading with energy shields, while unarmored infantry followed behind them. More troopers were still firing from the rear, trying to pin Red Team and the Blacksnake mercs down while their comrades advanced. Everyone was firing as fast and as accurately as they could; John was doing his best to hit the troopers with his flames, but there was just too much incoming fire for him to line up a good shot. A single grenade bounced through the broken section of the barrier; scooping it up before anyone else could react, Molotok threw it out the door as hard as he could. Chance had it that it landed next to one of the advancing Thulian squads. The explosion of Thulian energy ripped the lead trooper in half, while also killing most of the rest behind him.

  “They’re goin’ to make it inside.” John looked over at Unter. The old Soviet returned the look, then shrugged.

  “I would be feeling sorry for them, if they weren’t such svinya. Let us make them reconsider joining us.”

  And then Vix shouted a warning. “Holy shit it’s coming down!”

  At that moment, there was a deep, and distant, thud, one that shook the pavement and the rocks of Vickie’s barrier exactly like an earthquake, as well as being a sound.

  And then, the sky exploded, silently.

  If you had taken the Northern Lights, hooked them up to the average rock-concert’s effects rig, and then juiced it with Niagara Falls, you’d have gotten something that was, perhaps, a tenth of the light show going on in the sky for the next minute or so. The reddish curtain that had arced over the top of this valley rippled and heaved and danced; meanwhile there was a clear, wedge-shaped section that had just disappeared, letting the blue of the normal sky shine through, the edges of the wedge wavering and surging, and sending tendrils out, as if they were trying to join up again. Everyone was transfixed by the mayhem going on above them, even the Kriegers. That went on silently for a minute, maybe two, but not more than three…and then the fun started, the entire canopy roiled, as massive bolts of electricity began to arc across the sky for thirty seconds more. There were several more explosions. And then…

  The shield vanished. The reddish hue that had fallen over everything was replaced by the normal, clear light of the Himalayas, with a beautiful cloudless sky overhead. And a chill wind swept through the entire valley in a brief hurricane rush, dropping the ambient temperature by at least sixty degrees all at once.

  The fighting started up again, once the impact of what had happened sank in for everyone; the Kriegers weren’t looking as sure of themselves, however. Many weren’t acting as coordinated as before, nowhere near as bold. John briefly saw some of the commanders at the back cajoling and even striking their subordinates, urging them forward.

  “Overwatch to all teams. Well done. Objective achieved. Dig in, danger close fire missions commencing now.”

  “The Alamo didn’t have that. But I’m sure as hell glad we have it.” John then did his best to make himself as small as possible behind the barrier as the artillery shells began impacting among the Kriegers.

  Belladonna Blue: Forward Medical Unit

  Bella remained at Bulwark’s side, occasionally adding to his own inherent healing as she had extra energy to spare. But both of them were preoccupied with the information coming in on their HUDs. And neither of them bothered Vickie; it was crystal clear that even with Gamayun and the Colts to help, she was pushing herself to the mental and physical limit to keep up with the needs of the teams. Vickie herself was fully wired into Overwatch, even more than anyone else, because she experimented on herself before she added anything to Overwatch packages. Bella could call up Vickie’s vitals in a heartbeat, and when she did, it looked as if the tiny mage was running full out on the parkour course, even though Bella knew she was in her chair in her Overwatch suite. Bella could only hope she wasn’t going to burn out before it was all over. After all, she’d already passed out cold from her efforts on the North American HQ attack; this looked to be…much, much worse. And Bella was half a world away this time, with no “Angel Airlift” to help her get back to the mage.

  Mostly, though, she kept her eyes and ears glued to Blue Team. She knew without saying anything that Bulwark was doing the same. She cursed herself again when Scope fumbled the sensors, losing the team precious time. And again when the detonators failed to work, despite Vickie’s desperate attempts at a long-distance diagnostic. Unfortunately, the bombs, and the detonators, had never been anywhere near the little mage, she had not done the design work on them (and why should she have?) and they weren’t “smart,” so she couldn’t hack into them.

  But when Scope slammed the door on the rest of the team, to sacrifice herself by blowing the bombs manually, she nearly broke.

  “Overwatch: Vix. Vickie!” she cried, her fingernails cutting bloody crescents in her palms. “Get me—”

  “No can do,” Vickie said, her voice raspy with strain. “She’s off Overwatch; turned off her comm. She was never hardwired because she was never cleared before I ran out of sets.”

  “Dammit!” Bella cried, slamming her hand down on the table beside her so hard she left a dent in the metal top. She couldn’t look at Bull; she couldn’t meet his eyes. This was her fault. From beginning to end this was her fault.

  “Bella,” came the whisper inside her ear, overlaying the fainter whisper from outside. Tears burning her eyes, she met his. “Her choice, Bella,” Gairdner said.

  And maybe her redemption. “Still my fault,” she said, bitterly, angrily, wishing there was some way she could punish herself enough.…

  She listened to and watched the fight in the tower, silent witness as Mel was first lost, then miraculously rescued, the frantic flight to escape then—

  “Holy shit it’s coming down!” Vix exclaimed on wide-broadcast.

  From where they were, there was no way to see the field, much less the field coming down, but Bella had to restrain herself to keep from dashing outside to look anyway. There was no mistaking the fact that something big had happened, however, as the ground trembled beneath them, rattling the chair she was sitting on, and the cot Bulwark was lying on. But she could see it all through Vix’s little magical “eyes,” and it was…spectacular.

  But not spectacular enough to make her forget that Scope was somewhere under that pile of stone and metal.

  “Begin danger close fire missions,” Art ordered before the last of the fireworks had faded from the sky. “Paint us targets.”

  “Beginning danger close fire missions. Painting targets,” Vickie responded instantly, and the distant thunder of the artillery, positioned even further away than the Forward Medical Base, began. Bella listened as Art of War directed troops, Apaches, and fighter-bombers into the air.

  But almost immediately, the Kriegers began counter
-measures. Bella groaned wordlessly on seeing the defenses that the Thulians were throwing up, now that the field was down. Of course they were, they’d had all that time to get ready once stealth had been blown. They weren’t stupid, and they weren’t overconfident. While they’d tried to take down the strike teams, they’d also been manning up the main defenses assuming the shield would come down…

  The casualties! “Overwatch: battlemap,” she ordered, and checked the exit points. The two that they already knew of, what she supposed was the main entrance, and that entrance at the graveyard, were thick with red dots. Those could be fought through, but…with those air defenses, they’d never be able to airlift casualties from the city itself.

  “Clear entry one and two,” she heard Art of War say, even as she thought of that herself. “Get me evac Swifts on the ground there, prepare to take on casualties.”

  “But we need a healer out there!” she exclaimed aloud. Some of the ones that would die otherwise could be saved if there was a healer to do what the conventional med teams couldn’t—

  She hadn’t realized that Einhorn was beside her until the girl spoke. “Bella, I’ll go!” she said instantly. “I’ll be safer than any of you, I can make even the Thulians like me!”

  And she was right of course; her empathic projection worked on anything with an organic brain. A quick glance at Bulwark, a little nod from him, and she agreed, even before she thought. “Go!” she exclaimed. “Overwatch: MedEvac Swifts. MedEvac, we have healer Einhorn heading your way. Save a Swift for her.”

  “Roger, Blue,” came the short reply, and Einhorn vanished before Bella could have second thoughts.

  But now things were rapidly spooling up, as Red Saviour bulled her way onto the freqs. “Art of War: Red Saviour on air. I will be to leading my CCCP in at Entry One to come to relief of Team Red and Spearhead.” Her tone brooked absolutely no argument, and Art of War must either have prepared himself for this eventuality, or was resigned to it.

  “Understood Red Saviour,” he said, “Good luck,” and went on to continue directing the larger battle.

  All that Bella could do was wait, watch for the Swifts returning with the first of the casualties, and mourn. Because once the casualties started pouring in, there would be no time for grief.

  Red Team: Ultima Thule

  The massive bombardment of Ultima Thule had started off strong, catching the Kriegers completely flat-footed, but had since lost steam. It appeared that, after all, the barrier had not been the only defense of the city. John realized, belatedly, that this was only logical. After all, the planners had been Nazis, who had watched their cities turned into smoking piles of rubble during the last world war, and were not going to rely on a single-point-of-failure defensive system.

  Hell, maybe they watched Star Wars.

  After the initial battery of fire, the Kriegers pulled another trick out of their sleeves; at several points around the city, particularly on the edges and then spaced out evenly in the main body of buildings, were anti-missile defense systems. They sprouted from rooftops and dedicated pads concealed underground, and looked like multi-barreled turrets; torrents of energy shot out from each one, filling the air with hundreds of streams of energy. That had immediately lessened the effectiveness of the artillery and missile strikes that were coming from the staging areas and designated artillery points. The turrets also seemed to act as ad-hoc anti-aircraft systems, tracking and attempting to destroy the attack helicopters and fighter jets that were supporting the allied infantry.

  The fighting had become a largely conventional slugfest. The allies had quickly flooded into the city, on the ground and by helicopter, setting up landing zones and rally points from which troops could deploy. ECHO energy broadcasters were dropped into the city at these rally points, and started up almost as soon as they hit the ground; any Krieger troopers, and even the Death Spheres to an extent, within the portable broadcasters’ range would have their armor become vulnerable without it needing to be heated up first. With the artillery, MLRS barrages and precision missile strikes, along with the Apache gunships and jets dropping munitions wherever they found targets, it was no longer stranded units fighting for survival. It was army against army. The Thulians recognized this, and seemed to have pulled out all of the stops. Death Spheres, troopers, Robo-wolves and eagles all flooded the sky and streets of Ultima Thule, rushing to meet the attackers in small unit action.

  The attackers were still outnumbered. When attacking a defensive position, you wanted to greatly outnumber the defenders…because you were going to more than likely lose quite a few people in taking down the defenders.

  Red Team and the surviving Blacksnake operatives had finally linked up with the other beleaguered infiltration teams and several of the SOF units. Since the infiltration teams were deeper into the city than most of the conventional forces, they were tasked with holding the ground they had gained until reinforcements could arrive for a concerted push. Ammunition and a small, man-portable ECHO broadcast generator had been rushed to the infiltration teams, now collectively designated as Spearhead Group, to help with the fighting. The Kriegers threw everything they had at the group, but so far each attack had been repelled. For the first time since the botched entry into Ultima Thule, and the following ambushes, there was hope that the strike would be successful.

  And for the first time since the botched entry, Red Team had some breathing room. John ran to the fighting position that Sera was crouched behind; it was the remnant of one of the walls that Vickie had constructed with her geomancy, shored up with debris from some of the damaged buildings and, in a grisly display, some of the downed trooper armor. He shouldered into the cover next to her, reloading his rifle as he crouched down.

  “Having fun yet, darlin’?” He was slightly out of breath, but still managed a genuine lop-sided grin. The two of them had been trying to be everywhere at once again, John setting his fires and shooting, Sera helping to recover wounded and throwing her spears.

  She put her forehead against his chest, and her shoulders shook with barely-audible sobs. “I want to go home,” she choked out. “I want this to be over. So much pain…so much death…all of it so useless…”

  John let go of his rifle, letting it hang by its sling. He realized that he should have expected this; she felt every death, even those of their enemies, and grieved for every single one. How long could anyone, even an angel, bear that sort of emotional barrage before breaking down? He took her shoulders into his hands, pulling her to him. “It’s not useless, darlin’. It’s horrible, bloody, and unspeakably awful. But it’s not useless. What we’re doin’ here today isn’t for some sorta bloodlust or revenge, at least not for us. It’s to make sure that no one has to fight these bastards again, or to suffer another catastrophe like the Invasion. These monsters won’t stop until we’re all dead or enslaved; you saw that, and you said so yourself. Remember? This is why you chose to be here, on Earth, as an Instrument. If we fight them here, an’ now, we can prevent that.” He pulled her back so that he could look into her eyes. They were glassy with tears, but still fierce under the pain. He could actually feel her pain, her sense of loss, through their connection. He did his best to send his love for her, his strength and determination through that link. “This is necessary. You an’ I are here t’make sure that it’s done right.”

  She rested her head against his chest again. “How can you bear such pain?”

  “Not easily. But I do it because I have to. We have to, darlin’.” He lifted her chin with his right hand. “Don’t worry; we’re together in this, an’ we always will be.”

  She searched his eyes, earnestly. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her. But what she said surprised him. “And so you rightly remind me. ‘Death shall have no dominion.’”

  At that moment Bear thumped into the cover behind Sera, breathing hard. “Not to interrupt, but if lovebirds are being done cooing to each other, there is a war to fight.”

  “Old Bear, you shou
ld take a moment to rest,” Sera said, turning a gaze full of concern on him.

  He waved her off, leaning around the cover to fire another burst from his PPSh. “Nyet. Will rest when dead.”

  Before Sera or John could respond, there were shouts coming in over the comms.

  “Urgent traffic, Overwatch! We got something new here, love! It’s big, pissed off, and got way too many bloody teeth!” That was Corbie; he and Earth Team, the European ECHO metas, were still isolated, harrying the enemy in hit and run attacks behind their lines. John immediately pulled up a map overview on his HUD, showing him the entire city and the position of friendly units. There!

  It was almost unnecessary. Seconds after Corbie’s message on the comm, there was a deep, rumbling roar that seemed to fill the entire city. It was answered by two more similar roars, both further away. Looking in the direction where Corbie’s team was, John saw something that almost made him wonder if he was hallucinating. Corbie was flying erratically, trying to dodge and weave through the air like a sparrow evading a falcon…from below him, there was a gigantic crash, with a cloud of dust and pieces of buildings flying up into the air. John could see something moving within that cloud of debris, thrashing about. Was it some sort of ground version of a Death Sphere, a Thulian tank? Whatever it was, by the size of the debris cloud, it was huge! And it seemed perfectly willing to wreck everything in its path to get at Corbie. But why didn’t he fly higher?

  A glance further upward solved that question. There were three Robo-Eagles circling overhead, making sure the Brit couldn’t escape further skywards.

  Just as John noted that, and as Sera tensed up and half-spread her wings, clearly getting ready to fly to Corbie’s aid, the thing that was chasing the Brit showed itself.

  Something the size of a football field reared into the air just beneath the Brit, who barely managed to evade the swipe of an enormous claw trying to smash him to the earth, a plume of fire that actually scorched some of his wing-feathers, and the flash of a couple of energy-beams that only cut off because they were sweeping towards the Thulian troops below.