by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 28
Sunset found Billy exhausted. Killing quads in the air all day just took too much effort. Even for him. The thought of going through this for two more days enraged him. He needed to find an easier, faster, and safer way to kill so he could send his great-uncle home.
He wondered what his dad would do as he surprised two quads returning home, and laughed as the answer became obvious. Billy dived, sliced into the calves of the younger one and cut the neck of the older veteran. The younger one plunged into a lake. Billy landed, changed armor and uniforms with the dead quad, then flew to save the guy hanging onto a log.
"I got ya, trooper!" Billy said before dropping him on the grassy shore. "Let me take a look at that." As the guy howled in pain, Billy bandaged both leg wounds to stop the bleeding. "You're not gonna walk for a while, but you may fly again.”
"Thanks," the Mongol said, digging into his pockets for a liquor bottle. Billy didn't drink because he was usually high off his wands, and alcohol would only dull that sensitivity.
"My name is Temujin," Billy truthfully told him.
"Mutugen."
"Were you named after the Immortal's favorite grandson?"
"I descended from him, so my parents hoped it’d help my advancement."
"And has it?" Billy asked.
The Mongol laughed. "No! I don't think Genghis Khan likes being reminded he lost his favorite grandson.” He paused. “They sure are recruiting younger and younger.”
It struck Billy as ironic that he could only show his face to Mongols. “I descended from Taran of Kiev. My family enlisted me to keep me out of jail. Let's get you home."
Torches lit up the air base so returning fliers could find it after dark. When on the offensive, the Mongol Air Force would string temporary bases near the front so airmen would spend more time over the enemy and less time going to and from work. Billy landed near the infirmary and two troopers helped his "buddy" off his back. Then he carried the wounded quad inside and joked with him while the doctors re-bandaged his wounds and applied healing wands.
It turns out that they knew many of the same people from the steppe, so when Mutuge's commander came in, nobody thought to question Billy's allegiance. Since they were the Second Company of the 7th Battalion, Billy claimed to be from Fourth Company of the 1st Battalion, and asked if he could bunk with them.
"Hey everybody," their captain announced in the barracks. "This is Temujin from the Fourth of the 1st. He saved Mutugen's life, so he gets free drinks."
Not that anyone felt like partying. Billy himself quickly ate and slept. The need to pee thankfully woke him up, and he wondered what he’d have done if he slept all night. As it was, he moved from cot to cot, silently slicing throats, starting with the captain, then busted the locks of their chests to take their wands and money.
Then he moved on to the next barracks. This time, two guys sat on their cots recounting a close call. Billy limped closer.
"You okay?" one asked.
"Idiot doctors," Billy sullenly replied. "What do they know?"
Then several meters away he drew swords and whacked them. One fell pretty hard, thumping the wooden floor. Billy laid down on the nearest empty cot, but no one woke up. Relieved, he sliced more throats and took their valuables, remembering how he found his raped mother.
The third barrack had hardly any fliers, while the fourth and fifth looked half full. The other five barracks lay in a line a few hundred meters away, but Billy felt too exposed just walking across, so he entered the colonel’s home through the window. The pretty woman next to him died for sleeping with the enemy. The colonel never woke up. Opening his safe took far longer then he expected, but had more gold, silver, and wands than he could possibly carry. Still, he had the backpacks, so he loaded everything up and left them near the front door and changed into the colonel’s uniform.
Billy strolled to the latrine trench, humming a popular Mongolian song, and finally peed. When he returned, however, he massacred the other five sleeping companies. What surprised him is that they lost half of their battalion since the offensive started. After the last barrack, he limped to the infirmary, killed the wounded, including Mutugen, then woke up the doctors, healers, and assistants in their dorm. He led them to the backpacks. "We need to deliver these medical supplies to a unit near the front right away."
His request was unusual, but not implausible. On the way to the front he covertly dived to change into his red armor hidden by the lake.
As dawn approached, he signaled well ahead of time, descended in full view, and saw dozens of wands pointed at them when they landed on the infirmary roof. Billy saw the same French officer.
"You have too many wounded, so I brought you more doctors."
"Where did you get them?
"I took them from a Mongol Air Force base." Which nobody believed.
"Prove you are who you say you are," Frenchy demanded, even though Billy never told them his name.
Billy popped up and blew four flames. The soldiers burst into applause.
"We thought we lost you. We even sent scouts looking for you."
"I thought you could use more wands," he said, throwing his backpack forward. "You'll find several thousand sets in there. Arm civilian quads and pound the enemy ground troops. I took out the closest quad battalion, but you’ll only have air supremacy for a day or two. If you have someone bring me breakfast, I'll kill some more Mongols after I eat. Oh, and tell the surviving English quads to come see Captain Smith."
Below, Billy instructed the medical team to dump their backpacks around his great-uncle, which woke him up.
"Your fever broke! Your team can now take you home."
George dismissed the thought with a harsh laugh. "What's with the backpacks?”
"Your bonuses." Billy dumped the two heaviest onto him, practically burying him under one hundred gold bricks. "For thirteen years of fighting imperialism."
In the ensuing confusion, Billy sat on his great-uncle's cot and whispered to him. “Do you recognize this suit? Your grandfather gave it to your brother, who gave it to me. I’m Elizabeth's son, Billy, but please introduce me as the Red Baron."
George now recognized the red armor, his eyes huge with excitement. No sooner did the Mongols leave than George's Englishmen filled up the room.
"You called us, sir?"
"No," the prince answered. “The Red Baron here did. You remember the Baron? The guy who somehow convinced the Americans to give one hundred thousand backpacks full of loot to the Free Europe Air Force? Who didn’t share any with us? Red, here, finally heard how the king forgot to include us.”
Billy had no idea. “After I killed the nearest Mongol battalion, I emptied their vault and kidnapped their medical unit as air mules to deliver your bonuses. I don't know how many of you are left, but I want the valuables divided equally in thanks for fighting for so long against so many despite numbering so few." With that he started dumping the other backpacks on the floor. "All this is yours. Go back to England."
Excited cheers rang out, until one of them spoiled the mood.
"We can't," one of them said in disgust. "Queen Margaret exiled us thirteen years ago."
"Good thing she's dead, then," Billy answered. "Along with Prince John and his entire family. Global Bank is loaning the crown one thousand tons of gold to boost the economy. Sir Richard, the king's first-born, is setting up mass-production factories to make excellent armor like my own, and opening more bank branches overseas. All of you have jobs waiting for you. Prince George, your brother Richard is now king, your land has been returned, and you’re again a duke. You have some experience running a mass production factory making longbows. Perhaps you'll consider running the armor factory. Although I’d also like to start making more seaworthy versions of those new steel-hull steamships.”
Somebody laughed and clearly no one believed him, so Billy showed them London’s news reports. E
ven the headlines failed to convince them.
"Baron, I'm not sure what you're selling, but I'm buying," one of the Englishwomen joked. "Did you really take all this gold from an enemy air base?"
"Yes. The Mongols pay the first of every month, so they're loaded right now.” An idea hit Billy like a rock. “Hey, would anyone like to raid with me? Every Mongol fighter will be over the front lines. Usually they have nothing worth taking at those temporary bases, but tomorrow’s payday, so each will have literally a ton of gold that's ours for the taking. We could hit several air bases today. Most quads in the Mongol Air Force are foreigners who won’t work if they don’t get paid. That alone would blunt the offensive, and give the French time to decimate their ground forces. The Mongols have cost all of you dearly. I think it's time they paid. Preferably in gold and silver."
The cheering of his team brought color back to George's face, who blessed the venture.
