by David Weber
“Stop!” Abu Bakr ordered. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”
While he’d wanted—at some point—to show the Pakistanis how dangerous the vampires were, he’d envisioned it as a controlled demonstration. If they continued to goad Cecilia, though, there was sure to be bloodshed.
“See?” Abbas asked his cousin. “This is what you get in the decadent West—men who can’t control their women. Not only can’t he control her, he presumes to tell us how we should manage our country, and how we should follow the directives Allah has given us.”
He turned to Abu Bakr.
“I laugh at you and your arrogant Crusader demands that I keep my missionaries at home, rather than have them spread the word of Allah abroad. And the idea that you could come here and tell me how to manage my own country or people? Ludicrous.
“I called you here to show the world exactly how the Planetary Union operates—how it forces itself on countries who don’t want to be members, and how it threatens them with sanctions, warfare, and even releasing its pet demons on them if they refuse to kowtow to its wishes.”
He pointed to the corners of the room. “I’ve been broadcasting this meeting live the whole time! The veil has been removed from your heavy-handed political maneuvering, and now the world can see what the Planetary Union is really about—the complete eradication of Islam from the world! Muslims around the world, unite! Do not stand for it! Do not let them pull the wool over your eyes! Stand up for your rights! Stand up for your religion! Stand up for your God! Kill them! Kill them all!”
The guards leveled their rifles at Abu Bakr’s team.
“I will lead the way!” Abbas Ghilzai shouted. “They came here to kill me, but I will beat them to it! My guards have silver bullets in their rifles—watch what happens to their pet vampires now! Fire!”
* * *
“COLONEL WILSON,” CAPTAIN Frye’s voice came over the intercom. “Can you come to the flight station? You’re going to want to see this.”
Wilson looked up as he snapped the last latch on his Project Heinlein armor. “Uh, I’m kind of busy at the moment,” he said. “I just finished putting on my armor, and I’d have to take it off again to come up there. Have we heard anything from the team yet?”
“No, we haven’t, but this is about that,” Frye said. “Stand by a second.” After a couple of moments, the screen next to the intercom came on with a picture of Abu Bakr. The vampires were standing behind him, and he could see that Cecilia’s eyes were bright red.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “That’s not good.”
Although he said it softly, the microphone obviously picked it up and transmitted it to the cockpit, because Frye added, “If you think that’s bad, wait ’til you see this!”
The picture changed, and the camera view shifted to one from behind Abu Bakr’s group. Abbas and Ghayyur Ghilzai stood on the other side of them, behind a row of gunmen. Abbas appeared to be exhorting the watchers and was totally into the moment. Spittle flew from the corners of his mouth as he gestured at the Planetary Union team.
Muttering broke out across the shuttle’s cargo bay as the rest of his squad watched the video.
“What the hell’s that from?” Wilson asked.
“It’s being live-streamed,” Fry said. “The weapons officer just picked it up. Apparently, there are several cameras streaming different views from the room.”
“Do we have audio?”
“Just a second.”
With a click, the audio source shifted, and Abbas Ghilzai’s voice came through the speakers. “—came here to kill me, but I will beat them to it! My guards have silver bullets in their rifles—watch what happens to their pet vampires now! Fire!”
“Fuck!” Wilson exclaimed as the men opened fire on the group. “Get us down there—now!”
* * *
SOMEONE HURLED ABU Bakr to the side as the men opened fire, and the vampires charged them. By the time he’d bounced off the wall and the floor and looked towards the firing line, most of the riflemen were already down. Two had arms torn off, one had his rifle shoved through his stomach, and the others sported a variety of blood-spouting claw and bite wounds. The vampires seemed to go for arteries, and the spray of blood around the room was … mind-bogglingly horrific.
None of the vampires appeared injured in the slightest.
This was not going to play well on the tridee, and it was exactly how the meeting was not supposed to go. “Kill—” he coughed, trying to catch his breath, then took a breath and shouted louder, “Kill the cameras!”
Susan heard and raced to the corners of the room, destroying the cameras while Jill finished off the men with rifles. Cecilia, on the other hand, leapt over one of them to grab Ghayyur.
“Hi, Big Boy,” she said, looking into his eyes as her fangs extended.
Ghayyur screamed as she leaned in to his neck, but it was cut short as she pulled back, ripping out most of his throat. She dropped the body, blood drooling thickly down her chin, and turned to Abbas as the prime minister aimed his pistol at her.
“Don’t kill him!” Abu Bakr yelled as Cecilia walked towards him.
Abbas fired, but the bullet had no effect. He fired again, and again—faster and faster—as she approached, but each bullet passed through her without her even noticing it. His eyes grew with each shot, until his pistol clicked empty.
Cecilia reached forward, grabbed the pistol out of his hands, and tossed it away. “Now, what were you saying about me?” she asked.
“No!” Abu Bakr yelled. “Don’t kill him!”
“Don’t do it, Cecilia!” Jill said as she threw aside the remains of the last gunman. “The team lead said not to kill him.”
Cecilia glanced at Jill. “Who cares?” she asked. “He’s just another breather.” Her hand flashed towards Abbas, and returned with his heart. She looked into his eyes as she held it up in front of him.
“Whose heart do you suppose this is?” she asked, her tone light and sweet. She shrugged. “Must be yours, since I don’t need one anymore.” She dropped it and stepped aside as Abbas fell to his knees then forward onto his face. She spat on his back. “Asshole.”
Abu Bakr turned in time to see Susan destroy the last camera. All of that had been on camera.
“Damn it!” Abu Bakr exclaimed. “I told you not to kill him, you idiot!”
In a flash, Cecilia was in front of him, and she grabbed him around the throat with one hand and lifted him from his feet.
“You ungrateful bastard!” she screamed, her eyes blazing. Abu Bakr made a strangled noise as he grabbed at her hands and struggled to break free. “I saved your life!”
Jill appeared next to her. “Put him down, Cecilia,” she said.
“I’m tired of his shit!” Cecilia said with a snarl. “I just saved his life—Ghilzai was going to kill him—and I just want a little bit of gratitude from him!”
“We don’t have time for this,” Jill said. “We need to get out of here.”
“We will, just as soon as he says it.”
“Wha—” Abu Bakr asked as he choked.
“I want to hear you say you’re sorry. Say it.”
Abu Bakr tried to say something, but it didn’t make it past the hand strangling him.
“He can’t talk with you holding him by the throat,” Susan said, coming to stand on the other side of Cecilia.
“No, he can’t, can he?” Cecilia asked with a smile.
“Cecilia!” Jill said. “Drop him, now!”
“Fine!” Cecilia exclaimed, and threw Abu Bakr to the floor.
“Damn it,” he said with a grunt as he struggled back to his feet. “We still could have saved this mission, if you hadn’t killed him, you stupid bitch!”
Cecilia hit him in the chest, hard enough to lift him from his feet. He flew through the air and slammed into the wall five feet away. As he slid down it, he realized something inside him was broken. Not just the ribs—he’d heard them shatter—but then the rib shards m
ust have speared something else inside him. He looked up from the floor, unable to catch his breath.
Before he could say anything, or even try, Cecilia was in his face.
“Stupid bitch? How’d you like getting your ass kicked by a stupid bitch? Now you’re going to find out what it’s like to get killed by a stupid bitch.” Her fingernails lengthened into claws and she drew her hand back to strike.
“No,” Jill said, grabbing her arm. “You can’t do this.”
“Stay out of this, Jill; it’s none of your business.” She tried to pull out of Jill’s grasp. “Let go of my arm!”
“It is my business, and you need to back off.”
“She’s right,” Susan said as Abu Bakr coughed weakly. “You do need to back off. And we need to get out of here. It sounds like you damaged him pretty badly.”
“After I kill him, we can leave. The cameras are all out; no one will know.” She spun away from Jill and succeeded in pulling her arm out of the other vampire’s grasp.
Jill and Susan stepped together, blocking her away from Abu Bakr.
“Move!” Cecilia ordered. “I’m not asking; I’m telling you. Move!”
“Or you’ll do what?” Jill asked. “You’ll kill us, too?”
“If I have to!”
“You can’t,” Susan said. “We’re sisters. Let’s get out of here, and we’ll work it out once we get back.”
“After I kill him.”
“No,” Susan and Jill said simultaneously.
Cecilia struck without warning, her claw aimed at Jill’s face.
Jill flinched away, unable to block the blow in time, and Cecilia’s claws ran across her cheek, digging furrows into it that closed nearly as quickly as they were opened. She struck back, but Cecilia blocked the blow.
“Hey!” Cecilia yelled as Susan punched her in the head from the side, and she staggered away from the other two vampires. “So this is how it’s going to be, huh?”
“If you intend to kill everyone you meet,” Jill said, “then yeah, this is how it’s going to be.”
“Fine!” Cecilia launched herself at the other two vampires, throwing punches and kicks, and clawing for all she was worth.
Jill and Susan, equally fast, blocked all of Cecilia’s strikes. The more blows Cecilia threw, the more frustrated she became. Finally, she stepped back and glared at them, fangs out, the red in her eyes a glowing scarlet.
“I’m done with you,” Cecilia snarled. “I’m done with you both!”
Jill shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be like this—”
The door at the end of the room slammed open.
“There they are!” someone yelled as half a dozen men poured through it. “Kill them!”
Jill and Susan leapt forward and killed all six of them. Only two managed to get off a shot, but when the two vampires turned around, Cecilia had disappeared down one of the other passageways. Jill returned to Abu Bakr, whose eyes were closed, and checked his pulse.
“We need to get him out of here,” she said.
“I know,” Susan replied. “The only problem is carrying him. I’m not sure that’s the best choice, especially since we’re likely to face more of these idiots on the way out.”
“Well, we can’t leave him here. He looks like he’s about to die.”
“I know,” Susan repeated, “and we can’t have that, either. You guard him, and I’ll go get the cavalry.”
“I guess I don’t have to warn you to be careful?”
Susan smiled. “I don’t think that will be an issue.”
* * *
“GET US DOWN there—now!” Wilson called from the back of the shuttle.
“Are we cleared to fire?” Lieutenant Solice, asked.
“Yes,” Wilson replied. “Clear us an LZ!”
“Roger that,” Solice said, and armed the system. His view tilted as the pilots dove for the compound. He’d already targeted the four antiaircraft positions in the compound’s corners; he quickly reconfirmed the targeting and pulled the commit trigger on his joystick. “Firing!” he warned the pilots.
Four missiles raced off the Starfire’s rails and leapt ahead of the shuttle. With them en route, he moved the targeting reticle for the main gun over the first of the machine-gun nests. The alarm had obviously been given in the compound, since people were scurrying everywhere throughout the courtyard. The crew’s orders had been to not kill anyone they didn’t need to … but they’d also been told to interpret that loosely. If the defenders “could” be a threat, they were to be taken out.
The machine guns were manned and pointed at the shuttle in the courtyard. While they probably weren’t a threat to it as long as it was buttoned up, they would definitely be a threat when the team made it back out. He pulled the trigger as one of the missiles destroyed the antiaircraft position next to it, and a five-round burst of 20 mm high-explosive rounds turned it—and its crew—into a finely divided red mist. Like the new infantry rifle, the gun mounted on the chin of the assault shuttle was a railgun, but the shell was twice as large and four times as heavy. When Solice released the trigger, there was nothing left.
He switched to the next machine gun, but had to ease back on the zoom—the pilots were coming in hot, and he had less time than he’d thought. Another brief burp of 20 mm rounds, and there was nothing left of that position, either. There was motion at the antiaircraft position next to it so he triggered a few rounds at the men there. The motion ceased.
Solice ripped the other two positions apart as the militia forces began firing at the shuttle in the courtyard, and he could see tracers ricocheting from the Starfire’s armored skin.
“SAM, right, three o’clock!” Captain Frye called. After a pause, he added, “Not tracking.”
The weapons officer let out the breath he’d been holding as he searched for the missile launch site. Sure, they’d been told the sites wouldn’t be able to target them … but you never knew what would happen once the missiles started flying. He found the launcher and fired one of his remaining missiles at it; the launcher detonated spectacularly, with a good secondary explosion as one of its own missile warheads exploded.
“Five seconds to touchdown!” Frye said over the intercom. “Ramp coming down!”
Solice ripped the targeting cursor back to the courtyard. Any additional launches would have to be taken care of by the other shuttle that remained in overwatch above them at twenty thousand feet. He had more immediate concerns, like the two groups of guards charging across the courtyard towards the grounded shuttle, and he pulled the trigger as he dragged the cursor across both groups.
The consequences were unspeakable.
“Courtyard clear!” he called.
The shuttle touched down with a barely noticeable bump, and Solice launched two of his drones to provide overhead air cover. He switched his targeting camera to the first drone in time to see Wilson’s company of troopers charge down the ramp, firing periodically as they went. Solice smiled; the men and women looked like badass cyborgs in their Project Heinlein armor, and he was happy to not be on the receiving end of their attack.
The powered armor had started with the best personal defensive equipment the Hegemony printers had in their databases, but the wizards on the platforms had adapted it further. A lot further. It was an exoskeleton which was also a set of articulated plate armor, worn over a haptic suit that sensed the operator’s movements and moved the armor accordingly. After a period of calibration, the armor moved and functioned as a second, ultra-protective skin which made the soldiers virtually invulnerable to most light-and medium-caliber projectile weapons and chemical explosives; defeating it required a serious anti-armor weapon.
In addition to the armor that protected the trooper, the suit also gave the soldier many times more strength and incorporated an arsenal of weaponry. All the troopers Solice could see carried handheld weapons, but most of them had shoulder-mounted railguns, as well. The weapons were synched to a targeting system in the soldiers’ hel
mets, which allowed them to keep their hands free for other activities while destroying everything around them. An ammunition feed tube led from the weapon to a drum on the soldiers’ backs.
About the only thing the armor didn’t have installed yet were the jump jets, which were still “under development.” They would ultimately give the troopers the ability to jump over obstacles and shorter buildings, but Solice had heard the performance of the first models had been less than satisfactory. The suits had been tremendously unstable in the air, which had resulted in “non-successful landing evolutions.” Basically, the troopers involved had gone “splat” in some fairly painful ways … including one poor guy whose jump jets hadn’t cut off, and he’d basically been a missile that flew along the ground, slamming into things, until the juice ran out. While the armor had protected him from the worst of the collisions, the sudden stops had been traumatic, to say the least. Like being in seventeen car wrecks, one after the other. Solice had seen the tridee video someone had leaked, and it confirmed he’d made the right decision when he’d chosen aviation.
The suits were nothing if not effective, though, and Solice had trouble finding targets with the drones as the troopers spread out—the enemy troops were eliminated by the Heinlein-suited troopers as quickly as they showed their faces. With the main compound weapons already eliminated, the PAF soldiers advanced quickly. While three of the company’s ten-trooper platoons spread out to provide security from the walls and hold the compound’s entrances, the fourth raced across the courtyard to the palace. The first trooper kicked in the door, and they charged into the building.
With no targets remaining in the courtyard, Solice parked one of his drones in overwatch above the shuttle, while he watched the courtyard’s main entrance with the other. If reinforcements arrived, he’d be ready.
Something blew up a couple of blocks away in the periphery of his drone’s field of view, and Solice sighed. With the other shuttle orbiting overhead, he suspected he wouldn’t get the chance to do much more than await the colonel’s return.
