by Myke Cole
Harlequin ignored the barb. ‘It was Oscar Britton who used it, but yes. Except this one looks . . . rotted open. Or, it’s being rotted bigger.’ Scylla, standing among the monsters, head craned up at him.
They moved past a bronze sculpture, a paean to the immigrants who had made this city great. Harlequin thought of the latest arrivals through the widening gate and shook his head at the irony.
‘Rotted?’ Hewitt’s eyebrows arched as they entered the main gate. The wooden portcullis was wedged permanently open, but Harlequin had bulletproof police barricades with windowed tops dragged into place on either side, each manned by a soldier. Inside, Cormack was hard at work setting up the video-teleconference system on a plastic folding table outside the Statue of Liberty ticket-sales desk, already looking forlorn and deserted. Soldiers bustled to and fro, carrying pallets of bottled water, crates of ammunition, radio equipment.
This old fort hadn’t been occupied by real soldiers for over two hundred years. Suddenly, it was a military hub at the center of what could be the most important operation in the country’s history. Harlequin felt the weight of that history on his shoulders for a moment. It made him tired.
‘I’ve done some looking around myself,’ Hewitt said. ‘Most of these goblins are half our size and using bows and arrows. There are some bigger monsters in there, but they’ve got no real ordnance.’
‘There was a prisoner at FOB Frontier,’ Harlequin said as they took seats at the plastic table. ‘A Negramancer of considerable power . . .’
‘Excuse me, a what?’
‘A Witch, Colonel. A Probe with power over decay. When Oscar Britton ran, he let her out, and she nearly took half the base down in the process. Her name was Scylla. Well, that wasn’t her real name, but all the prisoners we held there took new names, and that was hers.’
‘So? What about her?’
‘She’s here, Colonel. She’s leading this invasion.’
‘How do you know?’ I’d know her anywhere.
‘I saw her when I reconned the enemy position. I saw the gate, I saw her using her magic to widen it. And that’s not the only thing I saw. The bulk of the attacking force are the same goblins and giants that tried their luck with FOB Frontier the entire time I was there. They’re nothing you can’t handle. FOB Frontier was surrounded by them for ages and was able to fight them off. But there’s also a large contingent of Gahe.’
Hewitt froze, his cheeks sagging. ‘You mean . . . the black things . . . from the Apache reservation? How the hell did they get here?’
Harlequin found himself grateful that there was at least one aspect of this fight he wouldn’t have to explain. ‘They’re not from the reservation, Colonel. We think they got there the same way they’re getting here . . . through some kind of tear in the planar fabric. The issue is that we’ve only ever fought them in ones or twos before. From what I saw, there are dozens, and more coming.’
‘They’re worse than goblins.’ Hewitt made it a statement, but Harlequin knew it for a question.
‘They are,’ he said. ‘For many reasons, but the most important one is this. As far as I know, they’re completely impervious to conventional ordnance. The only thing I’ve seen that can hurt them is magic.’
‘We need the SOC,’ Hewitt said.
‘We do,’ Harlequin said, ‘and I’m about to get them here.’ He motioned to Cormack.
‘How many?’ Hewitt asked.
‘All of them.’ Cormack typed on a ruggedized laptop computer, then gave a thumbs-up as the connection was passed to a large flat-screen monitor that dominated the table’s far end.
The VTC popped up, showing an office interior. The far wall was dominated by the American flag crossed with a gold-trimmed red banner showing three white stars. The same number of stars marked the shoulders of the man seated behind the cherrywood desk. He had a craggy face, shadowed eyes, and a butcher block of a jaw. His buzz-cut hair had gone gray long ago. If it were any longer, the bald spot would be prominent. As it was, he looked more stone statue than human.
General Gatanas, Commandant of the Supernatural Operations Corps. That he hadn’t been relieved of his command following the FOB Frontier debacle and Walsh’s impeachment was a testament to Porter’s commitment to the old order.
‘Lieutenant Colonel Thorsson,’ Gatanas said. ‘I was expecting this call some time ago.’
‘I took an opportunity to recon the enemy infil point, sir. Frankly, I’m glad I did. This is a lot bigger than we thought it was. I saw . . .’
‘Who’s this?’ Gatanas asked, gesturing at Hewitt.
‘Colonel Hewitt, sir,’ Hewitt replied. ‘I’m the CO of Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn. This is my AOR.’
Gatanas ignored him, looking back at Harlequin. ‘What’s going on?’
Harlequin sighed internally. ‘The silver lining here is that we now know where Scylla is.’
‘In New York?’
‘Leading the enemy, sir. The infil point is some kind of interplanar rent in the middle of Wall Street just outside the New York Stock Exchange between overflow offices and Federal Hall. It looks like she’s using her Negramancy to expand the opening. When I did my overflight, it looked to be around fifty feet square, maybe larger. The attacking force is coming through there.’
‘I heard it was goblins and some of those giant birds.’
‘They look critically weak on air support right now, sir, but I’ve got a feeling they’re remedying that as they speak. I’ve set up a command post on the southern tip of . . .’
‘I saw goblins when I was at the FOB, Lieutenant Colonel. Even in numbers, they’re weak, disorganized.’
‘I know sir, but . . .’
‘And if you say they lack air support, why can’t we just call in Apache squadrons from Dix? Doesn’t the Air Force have fixed-wing strike assets at McGuire right next door?’
Harlequin took a deep breath and spoke slowly. ‘Sir, this is one of the most densely populated cities in the country. This attack came without warning. While we’ve been able to evacuate a lot of civilians, there are plenty of people trapped in . . .’
‘The Breach Zone,’ Gatanas finished for him. ‘That’s what we’re calling the operational environment.’
‘The Breach Zone. You don’t want gunships raging in there. And they won’t help anyway, because Scylla has reached some kind of understanding with the Gahe.’
Gatanas leaned over the desk, cocking an eyebrow. ‘They’re there? How many?’
‘Dozens? More? I saw them coming out of the . . . Breach, sir. I doubt I’ll be able to get eyes on the target again anytime soon.’
Gatanas steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes. ‘That’s bad.’
‘Yes, sir, it is. So, you understand the urgency of this next request. You know the Gahe are only vulnerable to magic. I need the Corps’ QRF scrambled. I need every asset you can spare. We can’t afford to have this breach spill its banks, sir. I need the whole SOC, every man and woman.’
Gatanas kept his eyes closed. ‘No.’
It was a moment before Harlequin could speak. ‘Sir?’
‘No. You can’t have the SOC. I can give you . . . Fornax, Carina, and Cephalus Covens.’
Harlequin hammered his fist on the table. Both Cormack and Hewitt jumped. ‘Respectfully, sir, are you kidding me? Those are training Covens. I don’t have time to babysit a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears Novices! They’ll do more harm than good!’
Gatanas kept his eyes closed for a long time. At last, he opened them, turned to his computer, and punched up an inset screen that appeared in one corner of Harlequin’s monitor. ‘I’m patching something through now. Take a look.’
The inset showed grainy camera footage piped in from a helmet-mounted camera. The soldier wearing it was sighting his carbine around a chunk of dusty ro
ck, loosing three-round bursts toward a low cinder-block wall. Men with long, black hair in flannel shirts returned fire, until one of them leapt over the wall, rocketing toward the soldier, lightning streaming from his hands. Something huge and black shifted in the camera’s periphery, stutter-flashing past. Then the camera spun, and Harlequin heard screaming. Static.
‘That looked like Mescalero,’ Harlequin said.
‘It is,’ Gatanas replied. ‘This is a two-pronged attack. At approximately the same time your Breach opened up in Manhattan, a similar one boiled over on the reservation. At least, we’re assuming that’s what it is. Maybe the Gahe were hiding there all along. Same profile. Goblins, giants, more Gahe than we’ve ever seen in one place before. Add the Apache insurgency to that. The SOC is engaged there. It’s a small corps, Lieutenant Colonel, as I’m sure you know.’
‘Sir, respectfully, what’s the nearest town to the reservation? Ruidoso?’ Harlequin asked. ‘That’s got ten thousand people on a good day? We’re in the middle of New York fucking City. If I don’t get help, we’re going to have a massacre on our hands the likes of which this country has never seen.’
‘You don’t get it,’ Gatanas replied. ‘It’s not Mescalero, or even Ruidoso. It’s White Sands.’
‘White Sands?’ Harlequin let all pretense of protocol drop. ‘Why should I give a fuck about White Sands?’
‘Because it’s the lion’s share of our strategic stockpile. You’re so focused on the new nuke that you forgot about the old ones.’
Harlequin looked at Hewitt. The colonel was pale. ‘Our nuclear warheads,’ he said.
‘We’ve been destroying them as fast as we can as part of the START V treaty. Most of what we’ve got left is secured at White Sands Missile Range, just a hop, skip, and a jump from the worst armed uprising this country has ever faced.’
Harlequin couldn’t think of what to say. ‘Is there a lot?’
‘There’s enough.’ Gatanas’s voice was flat. ‘I’ll send you those training Covens and as much conventional firepower as I can spare. You’ll have to hold what you’ve got until we can get Mescalero put to bed.’
Harlequin stood, began to respond, but Gatanas cut him off. ‘You’re a soldier, Lieutenant Colonel. Do more with less. Find a way.’
Harlequin sagged, sat. ‘Okay, sir.’
‘Okay,’ Gatanas said. He reached to toggle off the connection.
‘Wait,’ Harlequin said, then remembered his manners. ‘Sir.’
‘What?’ Gatanas frowned.
‘I need some things.’
‘I already told you what I can . . .’
‘With all due respect, sir, you’re asking me to hold this ground against a foe only vulnerable to magic with almost no magical resources. More conventional troops aren’t going to cut it. You want me to do this, I need some things. Four things, specifically.’
Gatanas’s frown turned ugly. ‘And those are?’
‘I need FEMA here right now. The entire city should be evacuated.’
‘Now wait just a minute,’ Hewitt cut in. ‘The fighting is confined to . . .’
‘Respectfully, sir,’ Harlequin said to him, ‘I don’t have the time or resources to clear eight million people out of their homes and fight this enemy with one hand tied behind my back. Those barricades won’t hold, and when the enemy breaks through . . .’
‘Lieutenant Colonel Thorsson,’ Hewitt said through clenched teeth, ‘this is New York. I don’t think you fully realize the kind of people who live here.’
‘Maybe not, but I realize the kind of people who are going to die here if we don’t get this city evacuated.’
‘Gentlemen, enough,’ Gatanas cut in. ‘You’ll get FEMA. I’m already getting as many SOF teams as I can beg, borrow, or steal into the city to get refugees out. They’re going to be working on their own, but you might find them knocking on your door from time to time for resupply or to drop off civilians.’
‘Resupply? Sir, I don’t have the . . .’
‘What else?’ Gatanas cut him off.
‘I need General Bookbinder.’
Gatanas looked uncertain. ‘The general is . . .’
‘Sir, it would really help if we just dispensed with the illusion of secrecy. We both know what Bookbinder can do. If I can’t have Sorcerers on the line here, then I need ordnance capable of harming the enemy. Magical ordnance.’
Gatanas rubbed his eyes and sighed. ‘Yes, I figured that was coming. The general is . . . we’re having some trouble raising him at the moment. As soon as we can get ahold of him, he’ll be relieving you of command.’
If Gatanas had meant the threat to Harlequin’s authority to check him, it failed. ‘That’s fine, sir, so long as he makes with the magic bullets. How long until he’s inbound?’
‘I have no idea. As soon as I know, you’ll know.’
Gatanas was clearly already at his wits’ end. Pushing matters wouldn’t get him the help he needed any faster. ‘Okay, next. I need Sarah Downer.’
Gatanas suddenly looked awake. ‘What?’
‘Sarah Downer. I need her out of detention, back in uniform, and standing next to me.’
‘You know damned well that isn’t going to happen, Lieutenant Colonel. We’re still questioning her. Her pretty face hasn’t been on TV either, so Porter isn’t under any kind of public pressure to play nice, which, I might remind you, is the only reason you’re not in a cell next to her.’
‘No doubt, sir,’ Harlequin said, ‘but you’re asking me to protect a city of over eight million people with no arcane support. Downer can take a couple sparking wires and make an elemental platoon. I need force multipliers, and apart from Bookbinder, she’s the best one you’ve got.’
Gatanas was quiet for a moment. ‘This is personal for you, Thorsson. You’ve been pushing for her release since we took her into custody.’
‘Downer is loyal, sir; she wants to serve.’
‘Which is no doubt how you feel about your own sorry ass.’
‘Your words, sir, not mine.’ But absolutely true. ‘I need her magic, and I need it right now.’
Gatanas paused. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘One last thing,’ Harlequin said. ‘If this country doesn’t have the magical resources to deal with this threat, then we need to reach out to partner nations who do. I need lines to the defense attachés for Canada and Mexico. This is a threat to them, too.’
Gatanas rubbed his temples. ‘How is it that you can call all that “just four things”?’
‘Because that’s what it is, sir. Four things, without which, I can promise this city will fall.’
Gatanas shook his head. ‘What does she want, Thorsson?’
Harlequin tapped his finger against his chin, driving all thoughts of the woman he had known from his mind. Instead, he conjured the face of the monster who had slaughtered hundreds in the SOC liaison-office parking lot. ‘Revenge. And I don’t just mean smacking the SOC in the face for what we did to her. I mean total revenge. Making all non-Latent society pay for what she perceives as some kind of genetic apartheid. I talked to her plenty when they first put her in “the hole”, sir.’ And plenty before that, too. ‘She’s convinced that she’s the one to usher in a new age of Latents-on-top.’
‘Kind of what Oscar Britton wants.’
‘No, sir. Oscar Britton wants equal rights for Latent people. Scylla wants the apartheid she perceives to reverse. There’s a difference.’
‘So why are the Gahe helping her? What do they want?’
‘That, I don’t know, sir. I only know that if they want it, then I don’t, and violently.’
‘Okay, well I . . .’
Gatanas was cut off as a soldier ran breathlessly into the room behind Harlequin. His eyes widened as he saw who was on the screen, and he salu
ted halfway before realizing he was indoors. ‘Sorry, sir. I mean, to interrupt. Sorry. Master Sergeant Bilkes said I should . . .’
‘It’s fine, Specialist,’ Harlequin said. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘It’s . . . It’s the enemy commander, sir. She’s outside the T-walls. She threw this up, said you’d know what it was.’ He handed Harlequin a chunk of broken street signpost, tied with a scrap of white bedsheet.
‘What is that?’ Gatanas leaned across his desk, squinting. ‘Hold it up to the screen? I can’t see it.’
It was a long time before Harlequin could answer.
‘It’s a flag of parley, sir,’ he said, holding it up. ‘You wanted to know what Scylla wants. I guess we’re about to find out.’
Scylla stood some distance away from the line of T-walls. A Gahe stood to either side of her, black bodies crouched, heads turning, scanning for threats.
He flew over the T-walls, gathering dark clouds around him, boiling with lightning. As soon as he cleared the perimeter, he lowered himself to just six feet above the ground. He wanted the high vantage point, but if Scylla had some way to Suppress him, he wasn’t going to risk falling to his death.
The preparations were more than good battle sense. In a moment he’d be face-to-face with this woman out of his past, and that was not the time to lose focus. The lightning is for Scylla, not Grace. Remember that.
‘Isn’t this dramatic?’ Her voice carried over the distance. ‘You and me, New York City. Just like old times.’
She smiled, her confidence as smooth and enchanting as the most talented politicians he’d known since he’d come to be stationed inside the Beltway.
He breathed deeply in a failed attempt to slow his pounding heart. Not Grace. Not Grace. Not Grace.
‘You come to surrender?’ he asked, struggling to keep the tremor out of his voice. ‘I should warn you that your list of crimes makes it highly unlikely that any court in this country will let you live.’
She smiled wider. ‘I’ve been thinking about your court system. There’re some changes I’ll be making there. Thanks for reminding me.’
