The Pendragon Codex

by D. C. Fergerson

  Cora wiped blood and gravel from her face. Lucius marauded toward her, forcing Julian and Madeline to keep retreating. Though his focus stayed on her, Cora noticed the dragon was wary to keep Julian defensive with his tail. He was avoiding Excalibur like the plague. She would need to recover and act fast. Over her shoulder, she realized how lucky she was. She had come to rest at the edge of the roof. The northern corner and its mangled SAM launcher were a few feet away. Lucius was going to run them out of ground to fall back on soon.

  A bolt of lightning struck the far south end of the of the roof from a clear sky. Electricity danced behind Lucius like a light show.

  “Doctor,” Cora said, breathless. “Did you send someone else here?”

  The sound of metal getting smashed with a blunt object filled her ear. “Negative. Problem with coil in FUCKING MACHINE! TWO MINUTES!” More banging ensued until his line cut out.

  Lucius stopped his advance. His head perked up. His eyes shifted to the side. He took a sniff. Electricity popped and cracked behind him. As he swung his whole body around, Cora got to her feet. She caught a clear view to the other side of the roof. A beast of a man, easily near seven feet tall, stood shirtless atop what remained of the SAM launcher. He had no hair anywhere on his chiseled body, not even eyebrows. He wore a glossy black pair of pants and matching boots. In his hand was the source of the light show - a sledgehammer built like an axe, with a long haft. Arcs of electricity danced between the hammer and the man’s naked flesh, up and down his arms like snakes.

  Julian rushed to Cora’s side, his eyes on the spectacle. Madeline joined them, regrouping for another push.

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  Cora shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  The man’s voice boomed with a northern European accent. “Lucius! Out of your little castle, finally! You knew I’d find you!”

  Lucius grumbled, low and intimidating. He glanced back at Cora and Julian, keeping his peripheral vision on Excalibur. He grimaced at the stranger. “Careful, whelp. If you hold that artifact, then you know well how you got it.”

  “You took my home,” he declared, stepping down to the roof. “You took my people from me.” He took another step forward and pointed the hammer at the dragon. “I’ll have my revenge!”

  Electricity gathered at the head of the hammer and blasted forth like a lightning bolt. Lucius jumped up to his hind legs and turned, the blast narrowly missing him. The muscled stranger dashed forward, holding the hammer to the sky. Another bolt of lightning struck it, the current wrapping all the way up his arm again as if the sky itself recharged him.

  “Let’s go!” Madeline shouted, raising her sword.

  Cora placed a hand to her chest and stopped her. “No! Let’s move downstairs, now!”

  “That’s a no-go, Echo-3,” Johnny said over the comm. “I can’t keep this bird in the air much longer. We need to abort, now! Let’s take advantage of the distraction and load up!”

  Lucius dodged a swing from the man’s hammer, then another. With a flap of his wings, he floated off the ground. He leaned back, putting distance between himself and the stranger. His eyes cast down to Cora, only able to spare her a glance. For the first time, she thought she saw concern in those glowing amber eyes.

  “You think yourself safer in the skies?” the stranger taunted. Blue light emanated from his feet. He lifted into the air on arcs of electricity as though he skated on the sky. Another blast of lightning zapped down, missing Lucius and striking the roof. A shower of sparks and hissing blasted in the distance. The stranger cried out again. “The sky belongs to me!”

  For all his speed on the ground, Lucius was somehow even faster in the air. The pair danced, weaving and exchanging positions. It looked like they moved in figure-eights around each other. A bolt of lightning tore down from the sky in a column. Lucius moved from its path before Cora could perceive it. She heard the sucking sound of Lucius drawing a deep breath. A torrent of flames poured into air above, illuminating the whole roof. Bolts of lightning rained down, each one missing Lucius as he dodged through the air. The stranger slid across the sky, moving in circles to avoid the fire. Cora’s eyes flared open.

  ...under a storm of fire and lightning...

  Her father’s prophecy came to life before her eyes. She turned to Julian and pushed him in the direction of the door.

  “Move, now! Go, soldier!” she shouted. She waved Madeline to follow.

  “Echo-3, where the hell are you going?” Johnny asked.

  “Fox, take the bird out of here, now,” Cora said, her eyes cast upward to keep the dragon in her sights. He battled to keep the stranger still long enough to roast him in his fire breath. All the while, he danced through the air to avoid lightning crashing from the skies.

  “That’s an order, Fox,” she insisted. Thinking fast, she changed gears. “Doctor, we’re going to need transport for the four of us once we have the package.”

  Cora snatched up her katana from the ground as she ran for the access door. She pulled her Predator from her hip and unloaded two shots into the doorknob. The bullets tore a hole through the latch. It swung open as they approached.

  “Negative!” Tesla shouted over the comm. “I did not know machine could take two of you. I can’t take four!”

  Pulling the mangled door wide, she looked to the empty darkness of the stairs below, then back to the skies. Lucius battled the stranger, zig-zagging through the air. She wouldn’t get another chance like this. Without a second to lose, she led the charge down the stairs.

  “I’ll figure something out,” she said, her face dour. “I always do.”

  Long Way Down

  “Who the hell was that?” Madeline said.

  Cora sheathed her sword and aimed a flashlight from her Arcadia. “No idea. Control, do we have anything in the Project Phoenix data about a big...electrical...sledgehammer?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he said with a sigh. “Of course you’re not kidding. No, in the data we’ve salvaged, nothing matches any kind of hammer.”

  The trio ran down the first flight of stairs to the 48th floor. Julian set Excalibur to his back. A magnetic sheath snapped it into place. Cora glanced to his sidearm, an Apex 9mm. Johnny would approve.

  “Is Fox clear?” she asked.

  “Affirmative, and not a moment too soon,” Johnny replied. “A pair of French jets just blasted past us.”

  Gideon did little to hide his worry. “Echo-3, I know we’re flying by the seat of our pants, as always, but this might be too big for us. Comm traffic indicates French Air Defense has been scrambled to cordon off the grid we just took down. Even if you get the package out, Lucius is never letting you leave.”

  The stairs ended in a narrow area the size of a coat closet. Only one door stood between them and the interior of Tour Tetriarch.

  “I know the situation, Control,” she said. “We’re heading to 44, confirm?”

  “Confirm,” Gideon replied, exasperated. “I’ve rerun the models twice, still the highest probability the package is there. From the rooftop access door, cross to the stairwell on the west end of the floor. That goes as far down as thirty-two.”

  “Understood. Going dark,” Cora replied, tapping the comm button.

  Julian scowled with a knowing look. “Military jets scrambled? Lucius letting us think he took the bait?”

  Cora shook her head. Lucius wasn’t bluffing, there was definitely a mole. “I know, but we don’t have time for it.” She turned over her other shoulder and looked at Madeline. “Do you have thermographics in that thing?”

  “Of course,” Madeline replied. She pointed at the door. “Looks like seven men behind cover about ten meters beyond the door, all aimed on us. Too faint to read past that.”

  “Assume it’s a lot more,” Cora replied. “I breach, you two break west. Do not stop until you have cover.”

  She was used to stealth, with a target not expecting her to be there. Cora broke into impossible locales, that�
��s what she was trained to do. This was outside her realm, like breaking into Project Phoenix all over again. With subtlety gone, she pulled magic to her eyes and her left hand. A trusty Stunbomb formed while her eyes glowed yellow like a wild cat stalking the jungle in the night. She called out to Vincent and held her weapon arm aloft. He swooped in and perched on her.

  “I need a distraction on the other side of this door,” Cora said. The raven cocked his head. “I don’t know, just make a lot of noise or something.”

  Vincent flapped his wings and lifted from her arm. With a turn, his body phased, becoming translucent. He dashed through the door as though it weren’t there. Cora’s eyes narrowed. She bent her knees and waited for a cue.

  “On his mark.”

  A high-pitched croak and shriek came through muffled. The accompanying bullet fire of startled guards was clear as day. Cora pulled open the door, tossing the Stunbomb as she stepped to the side to avoid stray fire. Bullets struck the wall beside her. A burst of air marked the explosion of her spell. Cora spun in, Predator trained ahead, trying to assess the room. The penthouse offices broke off from wide open hallways and offered little in the way of cover for her team. The same was true for the men ahead. A group of them sprawled out in the hallway. At the far end of the hall, green goggles glowed from the night vision in the Bauer soldiers’ helmets.

  Madeline and Julian ran past the doorway and broke left behind her. Cora locked to the green lights, her Eagle Sight knowing exactly where to aim. Two taps on her trigger for one soldier, adjust, two more for the man next to him. Beside her, Julian fired his pistol down the other hall. Cora found the corner between the two and wheeled left, out of the line of fire ahead. The downed soldiers would be up from the stun any moment, but she needed to stay in motion. Killing every guard on the next four floors wasn’t practical or timely. She took down the hall to catch up with the team, snapping in a fresh clip.

  Madeline ran ahead of Julian to the west hall, past the corner. She jumped at the wall, her left foot keeping her braced in the air for a second before she spun off and kicked a guard with her right. Julian ran up beside the fallen guard and kicked his rifle into the air, snatching it up as his own. Vincent, eager to get in on the action, flew past them both. By the time Cora caught up and rounded the corner, she briefly caught a flash of magical light that lit up the hall for a split second. A chorus grunts and groans ensued.

  Her Predator at the ready, she came around the corner to find dazed Bauer soldiers aiming their weapons blind, flailing in terror. Another hand clutched at their goggles to be free of them. Blinded by the burst of light in their night vision, the effect may have lasted longer than one of her Stunbombs. She wasn’t about to wait around and find out. She emptied her clip down the hall at the defenseless soldiers, dropping every man she could see.

  Cora waved Madeline and Julian with her as she jogged to a stairwell access door ahead on the left. In the distance, men yelled into their comms, reporting casualties and where they thought she was going. As she pushed open the door and swept for guards, she found none. With a soft step, she moved to the metal railing and peered down into the darkness. She caught the glint of green eyes below and reeled back, a moment before the bang of an incoming bullet that followed. The weapon discharge echoed through the stairwell like a drill in her ear.

  “Allow me,” Madeline said, walking past Cora.

  The young girl snapped out her plasma sword and activated it. Up close, Cora examined the long, thin razor at the bottom of it. A loop on the tip of the blade acted as some kind of containment for the edge of the blue light ribbon that comprised the second blade. It lit up the entire stairwell. She got a running start down two steps before vaulting over the side in a flip.

  Cora rushed to the side of the banister and reached over, weapon aimed to back her up. What she found was soldiers screaming and scrambling to adjust their aim on her, or retreat from her terrifying weapon. She weaved, flipped over steps, and bounded off walls. She threw kicks and slashes. Men lucky enough to be cut by the razor screamed and dropped, clutching gushing wounds. The plasma edge severed a soldier’s arm at the elbow. The man didn’t get to scream in pain, instead crossing directly to shock, chasing after his separated arm as it rolled down the steps. Madeline snapped a kick at the back of his head to put him out of his misery. He could always have Tetriarch replace his arm later.

  “C’mon,” Cora said, running down the stairs and rounding the corner to join her.

  “Caw,” Vincent announced, having entirely too much fun.

  Julian raced down beside her, Cora’s Arcadia the only light to guide him. Madeline turned around on the 47th floor landing below and looked up at them. She was surrounded by the dead or dying bodies of five men. Behind her, the door to the floor opened a crack. Before it could swing fully open, Julian pulled up his rifle and sprayed a series of rounds down in a line. The bullets zipped past Madeline’s body and into the narrow slit of the door. The girl’s artificially wired muscles locked in place, thinking it her end. Instead, the door clicked shut behind her, a pool of crimson pouring into the hall at her heels.

  “Nice shot,” Cora said with a sigh of relief.

  The trio ran as one down the next flight, heads on a swivel for waiting soldiers, automated weapon turrets, drones, or anything else Bauer could throw at them. It was reasonable to assume every staircase for the next ten floors had guards in wait and traps abound. At the turnaround for the second stair set leading to the 46th floor, Cora ducked low and spun around. Her light caught a glimpse of a long, glossy-skinned arm before a massive hand grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her forward. She fired off two rounds, but they seemed to have missed in the darkness. Her feet stumbled and tripped down steps until they dangled aloft. The next thing she knew, her entire face took a punch that threw her free, slamming into a concrete wall behind her and dropping down on her rear.

  Trolls. It always had to be trolls. Every time Cora got deep into a Bauer-protected installation, they saved the most difficult physical opponents to match for last. Her nose and lips tingled with numbness. The back of her head a throbbing drum solo, she struggled to flush the tears from her eyes and make out what she could. Madeline’s sword and Cora’s Arcadia lit up the landing. Julian pumped the last five rounds of the rifle center mass. The nine-foot troll took the hits to his bullet-proof vest without stopping his advance. He climbed the first stair and braced, inviting Madeline in. The headstrong girl took the bait and charged. Cora tried to shake the cobwebs and get back to her feet, sliding herself back up along the wall.

  The plasma sword slashed once, then twice, the troll smacking her shots away with his arm. Sparks burst forth from her blow. It was then Cora realized nothing makes a troll more frightening than one with a military-grade Tetriarch cybernetic arm. He reached up, wrapping metal fingers around Madeline’s helmet and threw his arm forward. Madeline’s head bounced off the wall. Her legs turned to spaghetti. He pulled his arm back, dragging her with him as he prepared for another blow.

  Julian threw down the rifle. He took a running start and dove feet first at the troll. Twisting like a corkscrew in mid-air, his heels struck the soldier with his full weight. The troll reeled back, releasing his grip on Madeline to steady himself. As Julian collapsed to the stairs on his stomach, his chiseled arms controlled the fall, stopping himself like he was doing a pushup. All three of them raced to get to their feet, while the troll selected his pick of who to kill first.

  Vincent swooped in, cawing and batting the troll’s face with his wings. The soldier reached up with his cybernetic arm and snatched the raven out of the air. Vincent mounted a protest, shrieks echoing through the stairwell. His fear swelled, grabbing all of Cora’s attention. Her heart skipped a beat. The troll closed his fist around him. Translucent as a ghost, the raven flew through his fist and away from his clutches, cawing complaints and curses. Cora put a hand to her chest as the fear subsided and her breath returned. Relieved, she put up her fists.


  “Hey, asshole,” she said.

  The troll turned around, an evil grin on his face with a mouthful of crooked teeth. One of his lower fangs had an old chip in it, leaving it sharp like a knife. He stared Cora up and down, pleased she’d volunteered herself for sacrifice.

  “Don’t ever touch my bird,” Cora warned.

  He threw a punch. Cora dodged, and it sunk into the concrete beside her. Thinking quick, she grabbed hold of the tree-trunk-sized synthetic forearm and swung under it as if playing on monkey bars. With enough momentum, she pulled her legs up and twisted, wrapping her thighs around his elbow. She entwined her ankles for stronger grip and stretched out. Planting her heels into his armpit, she immobilized his arm, hanging out to the side.

  As the troll reached across his chest to try for an awkward punch, Excalibur stabbed into the soft flesh of his real left arm and pinned it to his chest. The troll howled and seethed, pain turning to rage. Madeline leaped from the stairs above, and landed sitting on Julian’s shoulders. She drew up the glowing edge of her blade and slashed across his neck.

  The troll stopped resisting. His muscles tightened. With a slow, wet, sliding sound, his head separated from his neck and sloshed to the floor. Cora swung off of him and landed on her feet. Once Julian withdrew his sword, the body collapsed beside the missing head, his frame occupying most of the landing.

  At easily over five hundred pounds, his corpse served as a great barricade to prevent reinforcements from getting open the door. Cora grabbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers and wobbled the bone back and forth until her regeneration took over and snapped it back into place to heal. She snorted and wiped the blood from her nose on her sleeve. Richard’s jacket never needed a cleaning more than after this night.