The Dark Defiance

by A. G. Claymore

  Tommy slowed as they came close to their target area. He reached out a hand to stop Chelak and wave him down into a small hollow between the massive trunks. He pointed to their left towards a massive, lichen-covered trunk fifteen meters to their front. A light mist of breath was coming from behind it. He pointed to the driver, then to his eyes, and finally toward the tree where their target was hiding.

  Chelak nodded, settling in to observe the tree through his scope. Tommy moved past him on the right and circled around to approach the target from behind. He managed to keep a large trunk, at least twenty feet across, between himself and his enemy as he approached. He brought his weapon up to the firing position and crept around the trunk until he could see the Bolshari leaning against the next tree, his rifle held tight in his hands. As Tommy watched, the attacker brought his weapon up and eased it around the side of the trunk to point in Kale’s direction.

  Tommy caught himself aiming at the rifleman’s head. No mucking about, just put him down. He lowered the muzzle a few degrees and put a burst into the center of mass. The would-be attacker twitched as he pitched forward against the tree and rolled to the ground.

  Tommy moved forward and put a second burst into the attacker’s head. As he scanned the nearby trees for the last missing assailant, a couple of shots rang out, one striking the tree, sending bark fragments flying past him. He dropped, looking for a good vantage point that would allow him to determine why he was being shot at from Kale’s direction. Sounded like a pistol.

  “Tommy, it’s safe.” Kale’s voice rang out. “Just my idiot shadow trying to be a hero.”

  Tommy cautiously stepped out from behind the tree and approached their position. He found Kale sitting with his back against a smaller, ten-foot-wide tree, trying to tie a field dressing over his shoulder with one hand. His shadow was standing over him with a sheepish expression. He was scratching the back of his head with a 9mm Beretta pistol. The hammer was cocked.

  Tommy stepped over to him and slapped the pistol out of his hand. He was slightly disappointed that it didn’t go off by accident. He shoved the startled ally down to a seated position before turning to help Kale with his shoulder.

  “I could see the bastard’s breath,” Kale explained, his own breath misting in the cool forest air. “This genius ignored my signal and strolled right past me.” He grunted as the dressing was pulled tight into the wound. “I caught one in the shoulder when I tried to pull him back. I don’t mind training Kobrak’s boys, but this one here…” He glared over at the shamefaced Bolshari. “This one’s nothing but a goddamn hat rack.”

  Tommy finished the dressing. “You’re in no shape to carry on.” He looked over at Kale’s shadow. “Take him back to the house. We’ll finish the sweep.” He got up and activated his headset. “Chelak, I’m coming back to you and we’ll continue towards the cliff.”

  They had made it to within a hundred feet of the cliff when Tommy suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He waved Chelak down and cocked his head to the side, trying to identify the sound that had triggered his reaction. “Did you hear that?”

  “No. Maybe it’s just nerves?” Chelak grinned. “The gods know, I’m certainly nervous.”

  Tommy frowned. “It almost sounds like…”

  “Tommy!” Gelna always used Dheema when he was excited. “There’s a vehicle hovering just under the edge of the cliff – fifty meters to my left.” He had reached the cliff face first, not having to stop and tend to Kale’s wounds.

  It’s the suspensor field generator that I’m hearing, he thought, just as he heard a strange ‘chuff’ from somewhere in front. He looked up as his eye caught movement. A small hail of dime-sized objects was falling towards them. Bugger.

  The objects landed, most missing them. The few that did strike them remained in place by the barbs that covered the small spherical weapons. They emitted an electrical pulse that completely interrupted motor control. Tommy and Chelak both fell to the ground, twitching.

  Tommy could still see and he watched, helplessly, as several Bolsharii, armed with AK-47s rushed up, grabbed his arms and legs, and ran off towards the cliff. They stopped at the edge and lowered him to the ground. His hands were bound, his stun and fragmentation grenades were pulled from his vest and his handgun was taken away. One of his captors, wearing an orange glove, pulled the small barbed spheres from his clothing and he immediately felt better – to a certain extent.

  He was at least able to take stock. They had taken most of his weapons, but he still had two T-handle knives clipped to the front of his vest. They were sheathed in a device that looked like any other buckle on his vest and the protruding, rubberized handles must have looked like some sort of quick release mechanism. One of his captors had even tried squeezing the two handles towards each other but lost interest when nothing happened.

  They picked him up and carried him onto the waiting vehicle. Was that whole attack simply a feint to draw us out and capture one of us? He let his head sag as they dropped him into a seat. The knives are still there, he thought with relief as they turned on the restraint field for his seat. His head snapped back against the back of the seat.

  All six captors climbed in and took their seats, grinning at their prisoner as the door closed. They began to talk, now that the excitement was over.

  “I think these must be lethal.” One of the guards was holding up an M-67 grenade. “The shape looks like it was designed for explosions. That one you’ve got must be for gas or something.” He nodded towards the M-84 stun grenade in the hands of one of his comrades.

  Or something, Tommy thought. He knew that every passing second usually made escape more unlikely, but he was currently in a static situation. Not much would change until they landed. Until then, he could assess his situation and come up with a plan.

  He turned his eyes back to the guard with the M-67. At least they understand the bloody thing’s lethal. He resisted the urge to smile.

  A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.

  The Völund

  En route to Transfer Station 21-Acheb

  “Loki!” Caul bellowed, causing Willie to wake in alarm. He had been sitting in the lounge with Deirdre and Caul, just to keep their visitor friendly, but he had fallen asleep from the sheer boredom. Hours of conversation in Dheema had taken their toll.

  He reached for his sidearm but left it holstered when he realized that Caul was behaving himself, though he could stand to use his indoor voice a little more.

  “That buffoon survived?” Caul shook his head. “As false as a river is long.”

  “It is said that he engineered the death of Baldr,” Deirdre added.

  “Baldr is dead?” Caul stared at her in shock. “He was one of the wisest of our people. My father often sought his council.” He leaned forward with a resigned sigh. “How did he perish?”

  “Loki discovered something that could penetrate Baldr’s magical protection, and he gave it to Hothr. Many were in the habit of hurling objects at Baldr, knowing that he could not be harmed. It was a source of entertainment, but when Hothr threw Loki’s gift, it killed Baldr.”

  “Killed his own brother,” Caul shuddered. “I can’t countenance living with such a burden on my soul.”

  “Hothr didn’t have to live with it for long.” Deirdre scrolled through the document on her tablet. “Odin and Rindr created Váli, who grew to full size in a day and slew Hothr.”

  “An execution that allows honor to be retained,” Caul explained. “A Váli is a combat mechanism, grown from millions of microscopic machines. It fights the condemned man in a match that cannot be won, but he is given the chance to die with a blade in his hand.” He eased back in his chair, but his hands were tightly clenched. “Loki has much to answer for. He was a retainer of Liev’s father, so I shouldn’t be so surprised.”

  “He may be paying for his actions already,” Deirdre said cautiously, frowning down at her screen. “It says that Skathi imprisoned Loki, using his own son
’s entrails as bindings and that she fixed a snake above him so that it would drip venom into his face. His wife, Sigyn, stays by his side, catching the poison in a bowl so his torment will be lessened.”

  “She would,” Caul said softly. He stood. “I think I would like another of your ‘ales’; would either of you want one as well?”

  “If you want to see ferocity, let my mother catch you giving me alcohol,” Deirdre laughed. “She would make Loki’s fate look like a pleasant vacation compared to what she would do to you!” She got up as well. “I will make some tea, but I think Willie would appreciate an ale.” She led him to the galley. “You really have a way of making history come alive, you know.”

  Khulmet, Khola

  The central riser

  Tommy was unable to enjoy the view as they dropped down the middle of the central riser. His head was still held in place by the restraint field and he could only watch the levels rise past him as they descended. Landing time will be my only chance to take the initiative away from these lads. My chances would have been better if they had grabbed Chelak as well – he knows how to handle himself. Though he wasn’t up against tactical geniuses, he knew that he would soon find himself securely locked away from his weapons. He would never be this close to them again.

  Their descent slowed to a halt and they began to move forward through the hive of concrete and glass of Khulmet City. Several turns brought them to their destination and Tommy could feel them descending again. Stay sharp! Once you start, you have to commit.

  As the door opened, Tommy could feel the restraint field release and he dropped to the floor in a heap, his face towards the back of the driver’s compartment. His captors laughed but he didn’t care. He was laughing inside that, when they pulled him to his feet, none of them noticed that the bindings were missing from his wrists.

  He held the small, T-handled knife between his palms that were pressed together, simulating the appearance of a bound prisoner. One of them gave him a shove and he stumbled out, angling towards the one who carried the M-67 like a trophy, waving it at Saramach. Saramach!

  His original plan was to duck behind the vehicle and hope to survive the blast of the fragmentation grenade, but he was inside Saramach’s compound and guards ringed the walls above them. Even if he did survive the explosion, he was still in the middle of a deadly shooting gallery.

  Saramach’s presence changed that.

  There’s no such thing as luck, he remembered his father’s favorite advice. There’s only opportunity and those who recognize and act on it. He reached out as he stumbled again, his hands parting. He dropped the knife and snatched the grenade from his startled escort. He pulled the pin out and held the deadly weapon above his head.

  He was pleased to find himself at the center of a frozen tableau. Suddenly, he remembered a quote from movie night. It was only three days ago, but it seemed as though it had been a lifetime since he sat down in the lounge with the rest of the crew to watch The Little Bighorn. He offered Saramach an evil grin. “Today is a good day to die,” he said with relish, dropping the grenade in their midst.

  Everyone screamed and dropped, covering their heads with their hands. Everyone but Tommy, who knew that the safety clip was still holding the grenade’s arming lever in place. He stepped over to the guard who had taken his handgun and retrieved it from the ground. Cocking it, he walked over to where Saramach cowered, waiting for the end to come. Tommy suppressed a curse as the vehicle took off behind him. That would have been useful.

  He tapped the underworld magnate on the back of the head with the weapon. “Get up, crab-ears.” He had a feeling that he was making a hash of the local insults, but he enjoyed them too much to stop. Saramach got to his feet, a wary look on his features.

  Can’t just open the gates and drag him down the streets now, can I? He frowned at his new prisoner. It’s a dead cert they’d follow, and one of them’s bound to get itchy and start shooting. Better move to his office before things come unglued. He grabbed Saramach’s tunic and spun him around, grasping a handful of hair and jamming the pistol against the back of his head. The message to the guards was clear; play nice or your boss’s heirs will want to know which one of you got him killed.

  “Let’s go to your office and catch up, shall we?”

  Transfer Station 21-Acheb

  The first waypoint on return to Earth

  The Ormen finally arrived. The Völund had sat at the station for hours, the crew becoming ever more nervous as the Midgaard fleet continued to arrive. By agreement, the Earth vessel would jump first, then the fleet, and then, finally, the Ormen. It was the only way to prevent the other captains of the fleet from sneaking operatives aboard the station. It didn’t keep imaginations from running wild as overwhelming force continued to build around the lone human vessel.

  “It was crowded enough when we arrived,” Harry muttered as he looked out the bridge windows. “Jan, can we get clearance for shuttles from the Ormen and the Völund to land at the same wing?” He grinned as he looked out the starboard windows. “Hopefully, arriving with our ‘friends’ will save us having to explain ourselves to the Chinese.”

  The Zheng He was there, slightly above them and off to starboard by a few thousand feet.

  “Looks like they got their systems back up,” Carol said brightly. “If you run into them, just start out by accusing them of corrupting our systems with all that pinging they were doing.”

  Harry nodded while he sucked on his teeth. “Might just be the way to go. I could claim it almost made us overshoot our destination because we couldn’t shut down our distortion drive while the ‘Mother-in-Law’ was active.”

  “You have two docking ports set aside on wing 24-khulef. I sent an image of a khulef rune to the lighters info screen so you can find the right level.” Jan turned from the communications console. “It’s a few kilometers from the core, but you can land any time and it’s good for our duration here, just under thirty hours.”

  “Good! Get in touch with the Ormen and let ‘Caul’ know that ‘Lothbrok’ and I are heading there right now for our coordination meeting.” It had been agreed that it was too risky for them to meet on the human ship because it presented a tempting target. The transfer stations presented the ideal neutral ground for them to coordinate the movements of the fleet as well as Midgaard intentions, once they reached Earth.

  Harry waited until Jan was finished with her message to ‘Caul’ before broaching his next subject. “So, Mom… Do you come with us or does Deirdre?”

  Jan looked down at the deck plating, her lips a straight line. “I was about to insist on going, but if anything gets attacked, it’s likely to be the Völund.” She looked up at Harry. “If they blow up the station, we destroy the Ormen and they never see Midgaard again. If they manage to destroy us first, then they can go after the rest of you at their leisure.” She sighed. “Bloody Gelna,” she said quietly. “Wouldn’t have to separate from her if he were here.”

  She gave Harry a look that almost made him take a step backwards. “I don’t care if you come back alive,” she said, “so long as my daughter does.” She turned back to her station and closed her eyes.

  Khulmet, Khola

  Saramach’s office

  “What the hell is going on in here?” Tommy shoved Saramach into the middle of the room and stood, just inside the closed door, staring. There was a young female Bolshari, bound to a chair near the desk. She had bruises on her face and a cut in her lower lip; most likely from one of Saramach’s rings.

  It was her clothing that clued Tommy in. The silky white tunic and charcoal-colored pants marked her as a professional and he looked more closely at her face, seeing the recognition in her eyes. He had spent slightly longer than he probably should have, looking at this very face when they first met.

  “You’re from the bank!” he said softly. “Why did they bring you here?”

  “They wanted access to your company’s accounts.” She didn’t sound frightened – her vo
ice was filled with anger, with outrage.

  Tommy knew, without asking. He pulled out one of his small knives and knelt to begin cutting the bindings on her hands. “They didn’t have any luck, did they?” He looked up at her face and smiled.

  She smiled back, raising her left hand. Three of her fingers had been snapped and hung at a disturbing angle. “He was getting ready to move on to plan B – cutting parts of my face off while you watch.” She tilted her head. “He thought you might give up the codes to save me. I wonder if he was right…”

  Tommy was shocked – he hadn’t noticed the fingers. “We’ll have to return the favor!” How long would I have held out if these wankers were breaking my digits?

  She stood and walked over to Saramach and drove her foot up into his groin. He dropped as though his skeleton had suddenly disappeared. “From the way this one was talking,” she said, nodding down at her erstwhile captor, “I expected to see you bound and beaten, not holding a weapon and giving the orders.” She kicked him in the stomach, just for good measure.

  “Well, they failed to make their expectations clear when they picked me up.” Tommy pulled a moaning Saramach to his feet. “I’m afraid we’re not out of the woods just yet, love.”

  “The woods?” She frowned at him as she tucked her long black hair behind her ear with her unbroken right hand.

  “Sorry, old Earth phrase.” Tommy paused for a moment. “Let’s say I don’t have our exit strategy worked out yet.” Her hair is incredible, he thought. It flows, like a river, like rapids… He realized he was staring, and he also realized that she didn’t seem to mind at all. Thank God I wasn’t looking somewhere else. Did she just tuck her hair in so I’d look at it?

  He looked at Saramach. Get your head out of your bloody arse! You need to figure a way out of here before you can start hitting on the ladies. He grabbed his abductor’s ear and gave it a twist, pulling him over to the chair where he put a hand on the miner’s head and shoved him down into it. “You’ve been a busy little fellow, haven’t you?”