Revolution: Book Three of the Secret World Chronicle

by Mercedes Lackey

  The final door wasn’t any more of a challenge. No password, no biometrics scan, not even a guard. Sloppy. Must’ve figured that no one could get this far. Either the General was cocky, or working with Blacksnake had kept her from running a tight ship. Blacksnake was good at what it did mostly for its brutality and the precise application of it; other areas were naturally more lax on standards than professional military units. That showed up in ways that could come back and bite them in the ass. Like now.

  “Big honking magical signature on the other side of that, Johnny.”

  John growled low, keeping his voice down. “Roger, Vic. Any idea on the opposition?”

  “Fei Li for certain, three other probables. I’m mostly reading the probables by reflection and interference from what Fei Li is putting out.”

  “All right. I’m breaching the entrance. Stand by.” John stood against the door jam, then tested the doorknob. It didn’t squeak, which he was thankful for. In one smooth motion, he opened the door and brought his M4 up, moving silently and quickly. There were crates stacked all over the place; he took cover behind the closest to the door. John peered around the side; peering—or shooting—over the top of cover exposed more of a person’s head to enemy fire. The entire room was filled with crates, and several cages.

  “—Xie xie.” Whoever was thanking someone in Chinese was female and didn’t sound all that . . . grateful. It was more like automatic politeness. Not that many female Chinese speakers in this building, John figured. “I want the full sensor suites in place and capture teams knowing their areas of responsibility well enough to react in their sleep before we even begin this operation.”

  “Of course, General. We’ve been given orders to that effect.” A male voice, and one that was notably agitated.

  “Eye out, Johnny?”

  “Hit it, Vic, and go quietly. Gimme their disposition and that of the rest of the room. I wanna know where I can move.”

  There wasn’t as much as a whisper to show that Vickie’s “eye”—a magically cloaked and levitated button cam—was moving. John only knew it because he felt it brush against his hair as it rose from its pocket on the back of his vest. This was Vickie’s techno-hoodoo; she’d stolen nonworking cams from the Vault—stuff Verd had not been able to get to work—and instead of using tech to make them float and hide, she used magic. Brilliant, despite the shivers that stuff gave him. One more thing they had that Verd didn’t.

  “Most of the room is clear. On your three o’clock, two guards, one manning a monitor bank, one live, two dead. Dead ahead, another that looks like he has officer pips. Crates at your ten o’clock, he looks like he’s talking to someone on the other side of them. Lemme get a better angle on the speakers.” A pause. “It’s Fei Li all right . . . she’s . . . OH SHIT!”

  There was the sound of metal hitting metal.

  “Go red. She spotted the cam.”

  That should’ve been goddamned impossible. John didn’t like to lose the element of surprise.

  John came out from behind his cover, suppressed rifle aimed towards where Vic had told him Fei Li was. As if on cue, the General himself—herself?—strode out from behind some crates, illuminated in the green glow of computer screens and harsh fluorescents. She—he—well, it was the General in command; the figure, though that of a diminutive Chinese woman, walked with a slight swagger, like a man. Hair in fancy braids, dressed in the same “black pajamas” as the Viet Cong had favored, she pinned him with her gaze.

  The two Blacksnake guards and their officer all immediately drew weapons; submachine gun PDWs of some sort; John was too focused on the General to try to figure it out.

  “So. CCCP sends you, comrade?” She sneered. “They chose to send their American? How sad. Perhaps Natalya did not want to risk my powers of persuasion with those that know me.”

  “You can come in voluntarily, comrade. We can do this easy like that, or we can do it really easy. Your choice.” John kept his rifle trained on Fei Li; even though he had three other firearms pointed at him, she was without a doubt the most dangerous person in the entire room.

  “Really easy? An interesting choice of words, considering that you are outnumbered even without my presence here.” She shook her head. “Terrible tactics, comrade. Your John Wayne maneuvers are and have always been ineffective.”

  “Wonder why you didn’t know I was here till just now? Because the rest of your numbers are down an’ out. Now quit stalling, an’ make yer decision.”

  The General sighed. “Very well. Men, take him, without killing him if possible.”

  Without preamble, John turned his rifle slightly to aim at the closest Blacksnake operative and shot him in the face three times. The other two were fast, and closed with him quickly; at this distance, they were inside the length of his rifle before he could reorient and fire again. Shrugging off his sling, John swung the rifle at the other grunt; it caught him on the edge of his chin perfectly, causing his teeth to click. He went down like a puppet with the strings cut, crumpling into a pile on the floor. The officer was competent, and wasn’t so quick to rush in. John, frowning at the merc, threw his rifle at him; the man caught it, instinctively. Bad move, pal. John kicked him, hard, in the groin, and then dribbled him around the floor with kicks and punches until he was rendered unconscious.

  “So,” John said, “are you ready to come in quietly? Or do I have to beat the hell out of more goons?”

  “I must definitely speak to Verdigris regarding the lack of competent help he has provided me,” Shen Xue said, and launched into a flying kick at John.

  He twisted in place, swatting her leg out of the way. She landed perfectly right beside him, looking serene. What happened next was a complete blur. John struck at her as hard and as fast as he could; Fei Li flawlessly countered every blow he launched. She did it effortlessly, as if she knew every move he was going to make. And she was fast, just as fast as John. With his enhancements, that was a feat that probably only a few metahumans in the entire world could claim.

  Then, her assault came. It was everything John could do to keep from being hit; he felt his stealth suit literally tear when she grazed him with an open-palmed strike.

  The effect was exactly like being in the middle of a martial arts movie with a combat between two evenly matched masters. In his experience, most fights were over in seconds, usually with whoever messed up first being the loser.

  Her technique was impossibly precise, almost exquisite in its flow. John was good, and had spent a long time becoming that way; but he knew he couldn’t keep up with this. She spun, swinging an elbow at his temple; ducking under it, he was immediately pounded with two open-handed strikes, a sweep, and a series of jabs. He blocked and dodged most of them, but she could see that he was giving up ground.

  Fei Li unsheathed her sword without any sort of flourish, and nearly bisected John. An unearthly whir filled the air where her sword cut through the air.

  “DISTANCE!” Vickie yelled in his ear. “That thing is celestial!”

  John dropped to the ground, kicking at Fei Li’s knee. She jumped back out of reach, swinging her sword through where his ankle had been a moment before.

  “You need more distance than that! Like the next county! She can slice through an I beam without losing speed!”

  John sprinted towards the door, stopping abruptly and turning to face her. She stood poised and ready, sword tip resting on the ground. “Are you running, comrade? You should.”

  “Last chance to see reason an’ come in to talk this over. ’Fore this gets lethal for you, comrade.” John stood up, motioning plaintively towards her. “Y’can still come back, rejoin the CCCP. It isn’t too late for that.”

  “Natalya-chan is insufficiently committed. She will not do what must be done to end the Thulian menace.” Fei Li brought the sword up into guard position.

  John shook his head. “You’re wrong. I think you know it, deep down. But I can’t change your mind.” She charged, sword in a high guard. W
hen she was within spitting distance, John released his carefully maintained control slightly, and loosed his fires. A wall of flame shot up in between the two fighters. Fei Li skidded to a halt, pirouetting, and then actually vaulted over the flames. John ran to his right, snapping his wrist out; a gout of fire smashed into the ground in front of Fei Li, kicking up smoke and half-melted rock.

  “If’n ya think I won’t kill ya,” John shouted over his shoulder, “better think again. I’d just rather avoid it!” Two more blasts of flame; Fei Li deflected one with her blade, which began to glow red-hot.

  “She’s moving too fast for me to bounce her with geomancy,” Vickie said grimly. “And way too fast to bury her. Assuming she doesn’t cut herself out if I did.”

  John, taking the initiative, stopped dead in his run, and turned toward Fei Li. He focused for a moment, then shot a concentrated stream of fire at the roof of the basement. Rubble poured out of the hole he gouged, directly in front of Fei Li. Her path was completely blocked, obstructed by the debris and crates.

  “We seem to be at an impasse, comrade,” Fei Li called. “What you call the Mexican standoff.”

  “Only because I want you to live, comrade. Come in, an’ this’ll all be forgotten.” It might’ve been a half-lie, but even that was better than having to resort to killing someone who was supposed to have been an ally once. Normally, he would have burned her the moment it was apparent that she was trying to kill him. He’d killed plenty of other people that way, and with a lot less screwing around. But this wasn’t nearly that simple.

  “I believe that is not a possibility, American. Natalya is my pupil; she knows she cannot allow me to live if she has the means of making an end of me. I believe I will take advantage of the exit that you provided me.” Without another word, the General gracefully leapt, no running start, through the hole in the ceiling of the basement. An impossible jump.

  John stood dumbfounded for a moment, gathering his wits before he keyed his comm. “Lemme guess, Vic. She’s already gotten the hell outta Dodge, and the cavalry is just now arriving. Right?”

  “Ten-four.” Vickie sighed. “And now I think she’s figured out how I can track her, ’cause she’s gone blank on me.”

  “Hellfire an’ damnation. Guess we’ll have to salvage this somehow. Get one of your other cams on scene. We’re gonna need documentation for all of the intel on-site.”

  “Roger.”

  John scratched his head. This was a hell of a mess, and part of it was his doing, again. The clean-up team would be in here soon. Time to face the music.

  * * *

  The fifteen minutes it took for the cavalry to show up didn’t help to ease John’s tension. He had completed his mission, with regards to locating Fei Li, disabling the Blacksnake personnel, and securing the site. But People’s Blade had slipped away. He didn’t want to chase her, anyway; if he had, one of them would probably be dead, and John wasn’t so sure that he’d be the victor.

  Vickie alerted John when the backup team arrived; he keyed his comm unit. “Way’s clear, Commissar. Twelve unconscious Blacksnake goons, one dead. All of their countermeasures and traps are deactivated; everything is ready to get swept up. Come on down.”

  “Remember, Commissar. Technically these rats weren’t violating any laws . . .” That was Vickie. Saviour’s reply was a grunt. It was Untermensch that replied.

  “This is why Soviette is giving them sleepy shot and we are dumping them . . . elsewhere.” The way he chuckled made John think that the “elsewhere” was likely to be very unpleasant for the Blacksnake operatives when they woke up.

  The team worked their way down methodically, and finally Soviet Bear poked his nose around the door frame. “You are having tourists for us, Comrade Murdock?”

  “Two breathing, ayup. Come on in, Pavel.” John stood up, brushing dust off of his torn stealth suit. She got way too close with that sword. Hell, she was lethal enough barehanded. Bear whistled, and Jadwiga followed him in with her medical bag, examining them carefully.

  “Why is this one beink dead?” Oddly enough, that was Red Saviour; she was poking the dead merc with her foot. He hadn’t expected her to be concerned about collateral damage.

  “I was in a hurry, and they weren’t being friendly.” John automatically straightened up as the Commissar approached. “This little command center they have here has plenty of intel; they never had a chance to destroy any of the hard-copy or computer drives.”

  Saviour turned towards him as the two unconscious Blacksnake ops were carried out, leaving no one there but herself and Untermensch. “Report, comrade.” She scowled. “I can be seeing you encountered Shen Xue.”

  “After liaising with my Overwatch, I breached the building following the approved plan, utilizing an Echo jetpack, followed by parachuting to the roof. Upon entry into the building, I wasn’t confronted by any opposition until I reached the lower levels. I incapacitated ten roving and static guards, and neutralized several traps; standard fare, mostly early warning devices or trip-wired explosives.” John paused, shifting his weight. “When I reached the command post, I encountered the target and three more Blacksnake operators. A sensor deployed by Overwatch was unexpectedly detected, and I was engaged by the target and her guards. Once the guards were taken outta the picture, I tried to bring down Fei Li.”

  “But you failed.” Saviour’s scowl deepened.

  “Couldn’t be done without killin’ her outright, which I gauged wouldn’t have been acceptable.” John looked straight at the Commissar. “Attempting to pursue Fei Li would have resulted in either her death, or mine. It was a stalemate.”

  Saviour’s face darkened. “Is there something about ‘by any means neccessary’ that you did not understand, tovarisch?”

  He hesitated. “No, Commissar. I used my judgment on the scene, to the best of my ability.”

  Saviour’s eyes flashed dangerously, and her hands clenched at her side. And then she gave him the worst tongue-lashing he had ever had in his entire career. Never mind that at least half of it was in Russian; the venom in her tone more than made up for the fact that he couldn’t understand her.

  Finally even she ran out of words. “You are dismissed, Comrade Murdock,” she said in disgust. “I will be wanting report in triple on my desk within the hour. Dos vedanya.”

  Without a word, John saluted, turned on his heel, and left. Coulda been worse. She could’ve shot me. Or called me by my full name.

  “He could be right in not killing People’s Blade, Commissar,” Untermensch said softly. “If it was truly a stalemate . . . Shen Xue is hardly a fool, and he would escape rather than continue to fight. Once outside this building, he would have not hesitated to use bystanders as shields.”

  Saviour waved off the comment, but as John glanced back at her, he thought perhaps she looked torn, as if having second thoughts.

  The collection team began boxing up and carting away all of the potential intelligence it could. Reams of paper in binders, computer hard drives, maps and communications gear. As Bear was clomping towards the doorway to the stairs, a glimmer caught his eye. It was one of the several cages that lined the far wall; it was covered in very strange symbols, none of which were familiar to him. “What strange sort of zoo is People’s Blade being to make?” He sniffled, then turned back to leave. “A decadent fetish, maybe.”

  * * *

  John Murdock completely vanished from the Seraphym’s awareness.

  It was not the “died” sort of vanishing. That wouldn’t actually be vanishing at all, more like “moved to another state of being.” No, this was . . . vanishing. As if something had made him disappear. Just as—

  A completely unaccustomed feeling overwhelmed her, because of the only other creature she knew that could vanish from her awareness in that manner.

  Shen Xue. If John was near Shen Xue, and Shen Xue had for any reason extended his powers to make John disappear, then John was in deadly peril.

  She panicked.

 
; She did not react as a mortal would, of course; she neither flew off wildly, nor froze. But a great wave of primal panic fear engulfed her, and although she did not cease the task she was on—the elimination of a Thulian cell and the rescue of another person who would become important—she was shaking to her very bones in reaction.

  And when John finally “reappeared” to her, it was all she could do to keep herself from racing to him. This was a delicate task, one that required tiny interventions in a long sequence, both to keep the prisoner alive and to aid Echo personnel in finding him, and it was only when it was completed that she gave herself leave to fly to John.

  In fact, she did more than fly. She apported herself to just above the roof of his squat, and once she was sure he was alone there, she folded her wings and plunged down to him, relief at seeing him not only alive, but whole, making tears stream from her eyes.

  He saw her at the very last minute out of the corner of his eye and turned to her, face full of shock and astonishment. Impelled by instinct and impulse, she did not think. She flung herself at him and embraced him with everything she had; then, as he started to speak, again without thinking, she kissed him.

  To say this kiss was nothing like the embrace of Siblings was to say that the ocean was, perhaps, a bit damp. And yet . . . strangely . . . it was exactly like the embrace of Siblings. It was utterly, completely right in ways she could not codify, and at the moment, had no interest in thinking about. It was intimate in ways the Siblings never experienced for themselves.

  She did not want it to end. Ever.

  * * *

  After filling out his after-action report in triplicate as requested, John had stripped out of his kit, then washed up and toweled off before he made his way back to his squat. Everything was fairly quiet in the neighborhood, and he hadn’t received any messages that required his urgent attention.