The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2)

by Jordan Ervin

  “…to Mobile,” Mahiri was saying, unaware as everyone else turned to look at Sigmund. “We can make a stand there and….” Mahiri paused before slowly looking behind him, his one eye widening when he saw Sigmund.

  “I see you have a new patch,” Sigmund said. The patch that covered Mahiri’s eye was no longer a simple leather patch. It was a ring of steel, dotted with rivets that all surrounded a red carbon fiber shield. “Quite dashing, I must say. I hope you did not take too much time out of your duties to go shopping for a new accessory.”

  “It was a gift,” Mahiri said quickly, “I didn’t ask—”

  “A gift?” Sigmund replied, his face grinning with amusement. “Now who in the world would so desire to give the tremendously terrible Mahiri Onyango a gift? Was it a woman we don’t know about? Perhaps I should send Rendell to thank her for…distracting you from the war at your doorstep.”

  Mahiri firmed his jaw and glanced over at Rendell, making no effort to hide his ire. Sigmund paused before a deep cackle rose from within—a laugh of daggers that nearly chilled his own spine. They all looked at him as he chortled and embraced the bedlam that swirled inside like a cloud of demons on the hunt.

  “Oh, Mahiri,” Sigmund said, whipping the spittle away from his mouth. “Fear not. Your play things will live another day. I have no qualms with you as of now. Nothing of what happened in DC was your fault.”

  Mahiri nodded, his shoulders drooping as though a spring that had bound him had been released. Sigmund walked into the center of the room, stopping as he stood in the middle of their little circle.

  “What happened in DC was…unfortunate,” Sigmund said. “It would have solved a lot of problems.”

  “I am sorry for the loss of Miss Rowe,” Mahiri replied. “I spoke with an Agent earlier and he told me how much she meant to you.”

  “Is that so?” Sigmund said, pausing as he stared blankly ahead. “Who was the agent?”

  “I believe it was an Agent named Miller,” Mahiri replied. “Perhaps someone else. Why do you ask?”

  “Hmm,” Sigmund mumbled before turning to Rendell. “Rendell, find out who it was when we’re finished and have your men kill him for me if you would. And let’s be creative about it so the others will remember what happens when they converse about me behind my back. I’m thinking…yes, I know. Take a boat far out in the Gulf, tie a large stone around Agent Miller’s feet, and throw him overboard. Make sure they have an oxygen tank when they hit the water. I don’t want them to drown, mind you. I’d rather the pressure crush them, so they know the weight that rests on my shoulders before they die.” Rendell nodded back, the slightest hint of a grin gracing his face. “And as for Jamie, the only regret I have about her is the fact that I didn’t get to kill her myself for failing to do the one thing she was sent to do.”

  “But I thought you two were…,” Mahiri said, stumbling over his words.

  “We were, at one point,” Sigmund replied, waving his hand in irritation. “Her ruse was rather simple. She merely needed to show Lukas the affection she had for me. Regardless, she died and Lukas’ Imperium still lives. A pity. I would have hoped her death meant more.”

  “Do we not have others on the inside?” Rendell asked, his voice cold and heavy like a mountaintop stone.

  “We do,” Sigmund replied. “They are imbedded deep and will be afraid. Hopefully, they have not let their fear of Lukas betray their loyalty to me.”

  “So what do you expect to happen now, Sigmund?” Mahiri asked.

  “I suppose we dig in on both fronts and continue with the plan to draw them in for a lethal blow,” Sigmund said, turning to Rendell. “Have you taken Little Rock as I asked?”

  “We have,” Rendell said. “Though only the city north of the river. Texas is pressing us hard from the other side, though they are nervous to launch a full-scale attack. They know they’d open the door for our expansion westward should they lose. They have fighters, but we have anti-air from the military bases we’ve seized. At the same time, we have Yellow Jackets and tanks, but they have anti-tanks and anti-drone equipment. Needless to say, we can’t hope to win an assault across the river and neither can they. We are two defensive armies, dug in and unable to mount an attack.”

  “It has been my experience that those who wait the longest in a stalemate are typically those who wonder where they went wrong as death approaches,” Sigmund said.

  “We do not wait idly,” Rendell replied. “We are gathering and preparing men and women from around the region every day. Once you get us more of the Lake of Fire serum, we will have thousands—around fifteen thousand to be precise—to storm the southern half of the city, softening up their defenses and confusing the Texans before we come in with the heavy gear.”

  “A fine plan,” Mahiri added.

  “There is one problem though,” Rendell said, eyeing Mahiri.

  “Is there ever not a problem when crafting empires?” Sigmund replied. “What is it?”

  “A settlement called Fort Harding sixty miles to the north,” Rendell replied. “They are well-fortified with an unknown number of armed inhabitants. We know Texas is actively trying to court their allegiance, but our scouts report the American flag still flies above the base. Despite our best efforts to infiltrate the base, they are locked down tight and we haven’t managed to get a glimpse inside, save satellite imagery. What we do know from the Little Rock citizens we’ve interrogated is that a large contingent of National Guard soldiers traveled there last year. If Texas succeeds and makes Fort Harding their own, they could coordinate an attack from both the north and south fronts.”

  “What would it take to seize Fort Harding?” Sigmund asked.

  “Likely the men we’re gathering for the initial attack across the river,” Rendell said. “They are armed lightly as ammo and supplies have dwindled with the war—most have nothing more than machetes and handheld weapons. Some will have firearms and we have an abundance of explosives to soften up the base. Regardless, if they have five thousand, I’d be surprised if a fifth of them are able to fight. We might lose most of our attackers, but I doubt they could stand against a brutal horde of relentless men and women. They’d likely lose the will to gun down people that might have been their neighbors a year ago.”

  “Is it worth the effort?” Sigmund asked. “Why not storm the south side of Little Rock and worry about this Fort Harding later?”

  “Taking the Fort would not only remove the threat at our rear, but possibly provide us with a stream of new Recruits from north Arkansas and Missouri. Still, you might be right. An assault could cost us the ability to soften up the Texans if we want to assault them across the river. Regardless, those are the options I see at hand. The choice, as always, is yours.”

  “And what would stop Texas from circling their jets around your anti-air and hitting your men on the ground as you stormed the fort?”

  “Our newest Graystone would,” Sūn said. “We’ve managed to enlarge the same cells that power the Prism suits and cut back on the size of the Graystone. Needless to say, it will have all the power it needs and we can move it in the bed of a truck. We can make a movable canopy that conceals a ten-mile radius and scrambles everything we say. They’d never know Fort Harding had fallen.”

  “What is Prism?” Mahiri asked.

  “Indeed,” Sigmund replied, scratching his chin as he looked back to Sūn. “Have you found what I asked you to find?”

  “We have,” Sūn said, nodding his head with a smile. “We have located the Nautilus and the weapon.”

  “Then ready it for deployment,” Sigmund said. Sūn nodded his head again as Sigmund turned to Mahiri. “Tell me, General Mahiri, what is the status of my Iron Curtain?”

  “We have seized Houston and Shreveport, though we hold them by a thread,” Mahiri replied. “If we can hold those cities and strengthen the defenses, we can block Texas from expanding east while we continue our war against the Imperium. You mentioned Prism? What is that?”

 
“It’s none of your concern,” Sigmund said. “And I hope it will stay that way until I have found what I search for. Regardless, the war changed the moment Jamie failed. Everything we’ve done in the east was meant to weaken the Imperium and divide it from within. With Lukas, Jacob, and Maria gone—the others would have forgotten about us as we pushed west into Texas.”

  “But the war against the Imperium, the men we lost,” Mahiri said, half rising from his chair as anger filled his eyes. “It was all a ploy?”

  “All war is deception,” Sigmund said. “Anyone who has ever read The Art of War knows that. Besides, I never believed we could attack and destroy the Imperium with a direct assault, even if we had two million men. Nor was it an objective of mine, though I would have greatly enjoyed watching Lukas’ empire collapse months after he raised it. I only had two goals when this war started: to remove all those who betrayed the Patriarchs and to press westward to locate…well, to find what matters most.”

  “Sir, why west?” Mahiri asked. “Why not bolster our forces along your Iron Curtain and continue to press east to eliminate Lukas? We can win the war against the Imperium. In time, we can—”

  “As I said, there is something very dear to me somewhere out west,” Sigmund said. “A treasure I care more about than anyone or anything this world has to offer.”

  “Is it great enough to risk losing this war over?” Mahiri asked.

  Sigmund slowly turned from Mahiri, his eyes glancing momentarily on Silvia and Rendell. Only Sūn knew the truth of Sigmund’s campaign and why he had risked continuing the invasion. The true purpose of his American crusade, however, was not found only in vengeance.

  It would be found when he finally located the ever elusive Mitch Dunham—the one Patriarch Agent to successfully defect.

  “If I lost this war,” Sigmund began, turning back to Mahiri. “If I lost my entire military, and every man under my control—including you, Mr. Onyango—but gained the White Shadow Prototype and the Scorched Earth codes in return, then I would have considered it all a great victory. It is not my goal to lose you in the process, but neither will I care if it comes to that, so long as I locate what I came here to find.”

  Mahiri stared back blankly, his eye narrowing as Sigmund spoke. When Sigmund had finished, Mahiri paused before speaking.

  “What are these things you speak of?” Mahiri asked. “If they are the true reason for this war, then as the commanding general I must—”

  “You will never know what they are until I have them safely in my possession,” Sigmund interrupted. “What I seek is known only to a few and it will remain that way. We suspect it is somewhere west and thus we must go there to find it. Our men on the Pacific Coast are stretched thin and will likely lose their war, but they too are unaware of the true purpose of their fight. And you can search everywhere for details to the White Shadow Prototype and the Scorched Earth Program, but I can assure you that you will find nothing but my disapproval of your curiosity. All you need to know is that if you are alive and loyal to me when I have them in my possession, there will be nothing to stop our world dominance. I will not only be a god, but I will be a god of gods, answerable to nothing and no one. Now please, do not speak of it again unless I first speak of it. Your job is not to inquire about my secrets. Your job is to do what I say so I can gain my revenge on Lukas and reclaim the world that was stolen from me. Do we understand one another or do I need Silvia to take another eye so that you might see things from my point of view?”

  Mahiri’s eye narrowed before he lowered his gaze, glancing over at Silvia. “You sure are an obedient dog for someone who never speaks.”

  “She never speaks because she chose the tongue over the eye or the ear,” Sigmund said. “Since then, I would dare say she’s been the best Agent I’ve ever had. She’s obedient, always willing to listen and observe what I command without any of the backtalk. Perhaps we should consider the same for you, Mr. Onyango.”

  “No!” Mahiri said, his eyes darting to Sigmund. “Please…forgive me. I will do whatever you command.”

  “Rendell, Victor—you two are to go to Little Rock and prepare for war, be it north or south of your borders. We cannot risk losing our foothold there. And Victor, I want you personally on the ground again. It’s time to get my favorite pet project back into the game. Train my Recruits, survive the battle, and freedom will be yours, however you want it. Sūn, you send them the portable Graystone and all additional injections as soon as the Brazilian is back up and running.”

  “We’ve already begun transporting the new Graystone device to Little Rock,” Sūn replied. “It will be there soon. Another few days, perhaps a week, and the injections can be there as well.”

  “Good,” Sigmund said. “Then ready your men for a westward push. If we can take Dallas within the month, then we can plunge the Republic of Texas in a state of chaos. By the time the Imperium gathers itself and pushes west to attack us, perhaps the lords of darkness will have led me to the weapons that will win us this world.”

  “And if you haven’t found what you seek?” Mahiri asked. “If Lukas strikes at us before you become a god of gods, what then?”

  “Do you know something I do not?” Sigmund asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “I only know what I would do,” Mahiri replied.

  Sigmund paused, lowering his eyes as he contemplated Mahiri’s words. He knew it was a gamble, but he began gambling with his soul the moment he welcomed the darkness decades ago.

  “Then we will burn this city to the ground while Silvia and I wait for Lukas’ men here in this very room.” Sigmund grinned, thinking of the look on Lukas’ face the moment he realized he had been outplayed once again. “I almost hope it comes to that.” Sigmund turned without another word and reentered his humble home, smiling as he envisioned the moment he finally found the White Shadow Prototype and the Scorched Earth Codes.

  I will be a lord of lords, he thought silently in his mind, mocking the one enemy he hated most as he prayed to the shadows he adored. Together…we will give the world a living god to bow down before.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Burden to Kill

  Eric Corsa squinted against the warm light of the sun as he stepped out of the medical building. He drew in a deep breath, smiling as he drank in the traces of springtime. Despite the months of hard travel behind him—always searching for a place to lay his head while death searched for a way to claim his life—ten days quarantined alone in a hospital had begun to bother him. His time in quarantine was nearly as much of a culture shock as watching America fall apart had been. Though the soft bed, hot showers, and warm meals were all accepted with a grateful sigh of relief, it had been the clean shave that had nearly brought him to tears. He was a soldier at heart and while some might see it as a strange and backwards feeling, growing a beard only made him feel more exposed.

  He looked to his left and smiled as he found the others lounging underneath a nearby canopy. Eric had been the last to be released, as a physician had requested one final look at his back. The wounds from the gunshots that almost killed him outside of Memphis had already begun to heal, as had the gash on his forehead from his hard fall against the log. Despite his initial thoughts, he hadn’t broken any ribs after all. For all the wear, tear, and war they had trekked through, he had managed to accomplish his mission.

  Eric had escorted Sarah and her family through the fires, saving the lives of all but two of them.

  Sarah looked up and smiled as he approached. “Well look at you,” she said, standing as she brushed her hands off on a pair of fresh jeans she’d been given. “You look ten years younger.” The others stood, though Eric didn’t reply immediately or acknowledge them. Instead, he simply looked at Sarah. Her blonde hair was silky smooth as it cascaded over her shoulders like two golden waterfalls. Her clothes were fresh and her face free of fear. Her smile was warm and comforting. She was beautiful, and Eric was beginning to think he might not be able to refrain from telling her.

>   “You look…great,” Eric said with a grin before he finally looked over at the others. “You all look great.”

  “I, for one, preferred the beard,” Elizabeth said, her southern drawl heavy on her tongue. “But I suppose you wear a naked face mighty well, Mr. Corsa. Glad to see you again.”

  “You too, Elizabeth,” Eric replied with the nod of his head. “And don’t think I haven’t forgotten what you said back in Georgia. I fully expect to have me a few slices of your finest pie.”

  Elizabeth beamed, gazing back at him silently before letting out a quiet chortle. “Well, Mr. Corsa, a promise is a promise. I suppose I might have to see what I can wrangle up for all of us.”

  Eric smiled, turning back to Sarah. “Where is Trey?”

  “He’s already wooing our best tech guys,” Nadia replied as she approached them from behind. Eric turned, watching as she, Tyler, and Alexandra neared. “You would not believe what that man is capable of doing with a computer.” Though Tyler and Nadia smiled as they held hands, Alexandra simply stared forward, almost as though she was trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who might gaze back.

  “I’m sure we’ll believe it,” Eric said. “He’s a Picasso with a computer, making art that no one understands even though it wows us all.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Tyler said. “He’s already patched us into satellite feeds over Little Rock, though he says there’s some disturbance—like a digital blanket draped over Little Rock. He said to give him a few days, maybe a week, and he’ll have us watching the men down south in real time.”

  “And to think you almost turned them away,” Nadia said with a grin.

  “You were the one who ordered us to turn people away,” Tyler replied with his own defiant smile. “I was just obeying my wife’s orders like any logical husband would do.”