Armchair Safari (A Cybercrime Technothriller)

by Jonathan Paul Isaacs

Gareth stopped his horse immediately. A ballista bolt? Why would someone shoot a wall of stone?

  Rocks and boulders were accelerating into a light drizzle. Then another bolt flew from the gatehouse toward the same spot on the cliff, and a feeling of horror seized Gareth.

  “Run! Get out of the canyon!”

  A blanket of stone slid off the cliff above Klaus and the others. The Kenzen grabbed the horses and cowered for shelter at the same time the riders were trying to get their mounts to sprint out of the danger zone. The falling rock hit all of them. A boulder the size of a watermelon smashed into one Kenzen’s head, leaving a limp, dead body to teeter to the ground. Another rock dropped Melador’s horse and pinned him and a second Kenzen to the ground. Gareth watched the whole thing helplessly from the rear. He kept shouting but was drowned out by the roar of the avalanche.

  The rocky rain had just started to dissipate when another ballista bolt flew from the gatehouse, not toward the cliff but at the fighters themselves. It smashed into the Kenzen near Melador and sent a cascade of blood and guts onto the stony ground.

  “Damn it! Get to cover! Get to the gatehouse!” Gareth shouted.

  The remaining Kenzen shot toward the castle wall. The others were slower. Melador was struggling to get free from his horse. Ardmore and Klaus were lumbering unsteadily ahead. Gareth spurred his mount and charged forward. It was the longest charge of his life, knowing that the figure on top of the gatehouse was hurrying to reload the massive ballista and shoot him dead. He had to get underneath its field of fire. Faster. Faster....

  Suddenly he was flying through the air. He landed and rolled with a thud.

  It took a moment to get his bearings. He was sitting on the ground looking back away from the castle. His horse was motionless beside him, a black ballista bolt protruding from its shoulder. A foot higher and it would have gone through Gareth’s crotch.

  He was going to destroy that dirty little pig-thief.

  Panic gave way to fury as Gareth rolled over and started sprinting. He counted four Kenzen pressed safely against the walls. Four. He had started with eight. Gareth thought about how much money he had just lost before even engaging in combat. It was not difficult to channel that loss into anger.

  A sickening thunk echoed behind them. Gareth turned to see another bolt protruding from Melador’s now-motionless chest.

  “We’ve got to get inside!” Ardmore shouted.

  The two men looked at each other in silent agreement. Even if there were no more siege defenses, the longer they waited outside, the more time they gave the thief to hide or set up traps.

  Gareth signaled the Kenzen to attack. They instantly exploded through the gatehouse entrance. Gareth drew his weapons and immediately followed, with Ardmore clamoring behind and the vague sound of Klaus bringing up the rear.

  * * *

  Megan carefully held the burning torch as she navigated over the obstacles around the courtyard. She almost tripped over a smashed wardrobe and touched the flame to the ground. That would have been a disaster. There was so much pitch spread around her that she would have cooked herself instantly, and done her attackers’ work for them.

  A guttural snarl from behind caught her attention. Megan wheeled around and saw four massive shadows scampering through the gatehouse corridor. She had to hurry. She quickly crawled atop a pile of rocks that had once been the cornerstones of the inner keep but now made an elevated platform several feet above the ground. She crouched and waited.

  The Kenzen burst into the courtyard. Lord, they’re fast, Megan thought. One of them spotted her and let out a long, piercing howl that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The others stopped immediately and also locked on her. For a brief moment, Megan visualized a Kenzen standing over her, its foul, hot breath in her face, its coarse fur tickling her bare skin, sliding its claws into her abdomen to peel her apart while she screamed.

  She shuddered. It was something that was about to happen if she didn’t do what Haas had told her to do.

  The Kenzen let out a multi-chorused howl and started charging on all fours toward Megan.

  They dashed past the broken lance that marked the location of Charlie. Megan gritted her teeth and threw the torch to the ground.

  A sound like a giant cough filled the air as the oily pitch exploded into a Fire Wall. One of the Kenzen ignited mid-stride and crashed to the ground with an ugly, pitiful howl that echoed against the castle walls. Another Kenzen was cut off by the flames, as were the humans who had now emerged from the gatehouse. But Kenzen were blindingly fast – faster than Boris and Kalam had been able to handle—and she had been too slow in throwing the torch. Two had made it through. They were only seconds from rending her to bits.

  Megan had no fear, just resignation. She had failed. This was the end.

  “Get down!”

  Megan instinctively dropped. She caught a fleeting glimpse of another dark silhouette leaping through the air.

  The figures met directly above her.

  Haas used his boot to push sideways off the first airborne Kenzen and slashed its shoulder open with his wavy Gaussian blade. The Kenzen thudded onto the pedestal, just a foot from Megan’s head on its way to toppling into the rubble. Haas immediately waded into the second monster as it drew its scythe-shaped axe. The clang of metal-on-metal rang out as they exchanged parries and thrusts.

  For Megan, what happened next crystallized the legend of Hutto.

  It was subtle. The fight was evenly matched, neither side seemingly able to score a hit or gain the advantage. But throughout the melee Haas began to pull the Kenzen over to the edge of Alpha, the small clearing with treacherous footing all around. In the middle of an exchange in an intensely violent fight, the ranger gave a little shove that pushed the Kenzen past the edge of the clearing. The monster lost its balance—just slightly—but it was all the ranger needed. Haas knocked the Kenzen’s axe aside and rammed the sword’s pommel into its chin. The Kenzen reeled, and now, with it totally off balance, Haas thrust his blade up into its chest. The beast fell.

  And there, right before her, Megan understood how terribly frightening this person was in front of her.

  He was always a step ahead.

  He was always in control.

  He was always going to win.

  Haas ripped his sword free and started running toward the outer curtain wall. “Stay scattered and make the castle work for you!” he shouted.

  Megan crawled back to her feet and sprinted the other way.

  The Fire Wall had died down now, and a bald human with a long, braided top knot was pointing at her. He shouted a command and the two remaining Kenzen charged after her. A warrior in Greek armor followed them. Even with the rubble slowing them down, Megan barely had time to reach Bravo—the staircase with the thick curtain of vines and rope hanging over it. She had just climbed the first few steps when she heard a loud thwock. A long, black arrow had hit the lead Kenzen in the shoulder. It jerked back before being hit a second time, then a third. The other Kenzen and the Greek warrior tried to find cover and ducked uncomfortably when they realized there was none.

  Across the courtyard, Haas was letting more arrows fly. All of them flew true and struck the wounded Kenzen. The monster fell to all fours, but in a testament to its toughness it kept crawling with insane intensity toward Megan, six arrows protruding from its back and shoulders.

  Megan was halfway up Bravo when she turned around, sword at the ready. Thieves were not normally good in a straight-up fight, but luckily that wasn’t what she had in mind.

  * * *

  Gareth was watching his investment get paired down even further when he decided it was time to get his act together.

  “Klaus.”

  The bald warrior moved up behind him. “Aye?”

  “The thief’s not alone. That ranger is still alive—the one I told you about, from the jungle.”

  Understanding crept over Klaus’s face. “He was manning that ballista?”

&
nbsp; “And caused the avalanche.”

  “And set up those traps.”

  They both nodded as to their course of action. As the most dangerous opponent, it was imperative they kill the ranger first.

  “Change in tactics. Ignore the thief for now. We have to get rid of that guy.” Gareth studied the battlefield with a deep intensity. “But I have a plan.”

  “What?”

  Gareth outlined the plan to the grim satisfaction of his companion. Then, with weapons drawn, they both charged into the courtyard.

  51

  Haas pumped arrow after arrow into the second Kenzen scurrying toward Megan. The thief needed them a little slower, a little hurt, in order for her to use Bravo to its potential and not get overrun. And Haas needed Megan alive to help control the tempo of the fight.

  “We’ll see how badly you want your money,” Haas muttered to himself as he let yet another arrow loose. “I’m going to cost you for every minute you follow me.”

  A footstep slipped in the gravel behind him.

  Haas dove. A long sword swung through the air and narrowly missed his ear. The ranger pivoted and crashed against his attacker’s legs, tackling the large man with the top-knot into the dirt. A flash of his short sword and Haas sliced the unarmored backside of the warrior’s hamstrings.

  Before the ranger could finish him off, another assailant came flying through the air to meet him. It was the enemy captain from the jungle.

  He was incredibly fast. Armed with a long sword and short sword, one in each hand, the captain’s eyes locked onto Haas like a bird of prey about to snatch its supper. This was a man who had slain all of Haas’s companions in the jungle. He was a person who was a real criminal in real life, fighting to reclaim millions of stolen dollars. And he was rushing toward the ranger to deliver a fatal blow.

  Haas put his foot up just in time for the captain to rush his crotch into it.

  It only bought him a moment of time. The captain made a pained sound and failed to connect with either weapon. It was enough for Haas to whip himself up to his feet, drop the short blade, and get his Gaussian out of its sheath.

  “Where’s the money?” snarled the captain as he swung at the ranger.

  “What money?”

  “My money!” Blades clanged against each other.

  “We lost it in the ocean.”

  “Bullshit!” The accent sounded... Russian?

  “Why?” Haas replied dryly. “You see my pockets bulging?”

  To the other side, the top-knotted warrior had made it up to his hands and knees. He was cursing at the wound Haas had given him. Haas jumped on the man’s back and flattened him again.

  “You have my money somewhere. I’m going to take it out of your hide! You don’t know who you’re messing with!”

  “Maybe you should ask the thief. I hear they steal stuff.”

  The captain growled and attacked ferociously. Haas had to concentrate hard with the flurry of attacks. A swing of the longsword and a stab by the short blade; feints and cheats; careful footwork that angled for a superior position. The captain was very, very good. It was difficult to be anything other than defensive—just like in the jungle. Only this time, there was no place to run.

  Haas blocked a low chop and took advantage of his position to sweep the captain’s leg with his own. The captain staggered. Haas aimed his Gaussian at the small exposed area of flesh underneath the captain’s chin. It was a killing move, and risky, but Haas had learned long ago that seizing opportunity was the key to success.

  For a moment his blade seemed true. Then at the last second the captain shifted to the left. Perhaps he had seen what was coming, or perhaps it was dumb luck, but the point of Haas’s sword missed the captain’s neck and instead jammed into the top buckle of his shoulder guard. The leather strap disintegrated and the armored sleeve slipped down several inches on the captain’s sword arm, momentarily freezing a counter-swing. But the moment was lost. The enemy was still standing.

  Time to change things up, Haas decided.

  The ranger darted past the captain over to the wall thirty feet away. He reached a staircase that was built in the same manner as Bravo, about three feet wide and embedded into the inside of the castle wall. He briefly hoped Megan was holding her own against the Kenzen on the other side of the courtyard, at least for a little bit longer. He had his own problems.

  There was no railing and, in this case, also no vines to foul sword strokes. No matter. Haas ran halfway up and turned about. The captain had chased behind and had his weapons out, sprinting lethally up the stairs. The top-knot warrior was staggering behind. The fight was still two on one, but the staircase would only one to attack at a time, and now Haas had the high ground.

  The captain charged into him.

  A whirlwind of combat unfolded on the stairs, attack and counterattack. It quickly became apparent that even with Haas’s superior elevation, the battle was at best going to be a stalemate. What was worse, the top-knot warrior was resting at the bottom of the stairs. Haas was in a situation where his fatigue would build up through the incessant fighting while his enemies could tag team him with a fresh combatant.

  He decided to go for another risky move. The captain seemed to like a particular combo sequence in his fighting—a long sword thrust, a slash with the short blade, and then a swing with the long. Haas fell back into a defensive stance and countered the strikes to get the timing right.

  The flash of the long blade swept toward Haas.

  Parry.

  Then the short sword.

  Dodge.

  Haas took one hand off his Gaussian and caught the captain’s forearm as he brought the longs sword down. With his enemy immobilized for a split second, Haas thrust his own blade at the captain’s knee. A direct hit and the captain would be crippled, an easy target.

  It should have worked. But incredibly, the blade point glanced off the greave instead of penetrating the steel.

  Perhaps Haas had misjudged the armor. Or maybe it had an illegally hacked level of strength. But in the blink of an eye, the captain saw his opening and stabbed Haas in the shoulder with the short sword from his other hand.

  The ranger’s entire arm went numb at once.

  Haas had always had fast reaction time. He kicked the captain square in the chest and knocked him backward down the stairs—and as a bonus, right into the top-knot warrior, sending both to the courtyard in a heap. Under other circumstances Haas would have tried to finish them off. But his right arm failed to respond, and it was only with great effort he managed to shift his Gaussian to his left hand. Haas was not ambidextrous. He was now seriously disadvantaged.

  Running to the top of the stairs, Haas made his way along the battlements until he was sure he had a few moments before any pursuers could reach him. There he decided to take stock of his injury. He worked the buckles on his armored sleeve until the entire section slid off of his wounded arm. The gash was deep, with blood oozing out over the entirety of his right side. He knew he would not be able to hold his sword properly. Not a great position against a millionaire-fueled nightmare.

  Haas picked up his Gaussian in his left hand again and searched for his enemy. They were not following him.

  He was probably being flanked.

  Haas jogged slowly toward the gatehouse, trying to lower his fatigue.

  * * *

  “Get off me!” Klaus yelled.

  Gareth rolled off his ally and readied himself for an attack—which, to his surprise, wasn’t coming. He stared dumbfounded as the ranger ran up and away along the ramparts. Then a smile of understanding crept across his face.

  “I got him, Klaus. I got him.”

  “Where?” asked Klaus, dirt falling from his top-knot.

  “In his sword arm. We should—”

  A man screamed in the distance.

  Gareth turned and scanned the far battlements for signs of fighting. He couldn’t see anything. Surely the thief hadn’t bested Ardmore?

 
He thought back to the ranger’s taunt. Thieves are good at stealing things, I hear.

  Of course. The thief knew where the money was. And if she had wounded or killed Ardmore, she could be about to escape while he and Klaus wasted time with the ranger. A brilliant misdirection, if that’s what it was.

  Gareth decided quickly on what to do.

  “Klaus. I wounded that ranger badly. Go finish him off. I need to see if Ardmore is still in commission.”

  “You’re going to rescue him?” said Klaus.

  “Something like that.”

  Reverence shone on the bald man’s face that they should be so blessed by such a leader.

  “Just get going,” said Gareth sourly.

  As Klaus started running toward the far battlement, Gareth thought for a split second about how many girls he’d have to hire for the celebration party once all this was done.

  * * *

  The canopy of vines that hung over Bravo completely strangled the staircase. By the time Megan reached the top, she barely had time to grab the spear they had positioned there before the two Kenzen and the Greek started to charge. The black-skinned monsters ran side by side, quickly becoming mired in the tangle until they were practically moving in slow motion. Megan thrust the spear at the monster closest to the wall.

  For a terrifying second, Megan wasn’t sure if the spear point would even penetrate the Kenzen’s tough, leathery skin. But it did. As if in a surreal dream, the Kenzen’s desire to get at her caused it to wriggle its body down the shaft, eviscerating itself in a terrible frenzy of froth and blood as it cantered sideways. The uninjured Kenzen tried to blast by and swipe her with claws from only a few feet away. Petrified, Megan did the only thing she could think of—she pushed the spear sideways and guided the impaled Kenzen away from the wall. The dying beast stumbled into its twin and grappled with it for a split second. Then they both slipped over the side and down to the jagged rocks of the courtyard below.

  “You’re going to pay for that, bitch,” called out the Greek warrior from below.