Desperate Fire (Angel in the Whirlwind Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Table of Contents

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  Professionally Published Books by Christopher G. Nuttall Angel in the Whirlwind The Oncoming Storm Falcone Strike Cursed Command ELSEWHEN PRESS The Royal Sorceress The Royal Sorceress (Book I) The Great Game (Book II) Necropolis (Book III) Sons of Liberty (Book IV) Bookworm Bookworm Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling Bookworm III: The Best Laid Plans Bookworm IV: Full Circle Inverse Shadows Sufficiently Advanced Technology Stand Alone A Life Less Ordinary The Mind’s Eye TWILIGHT TIMES BOOKS Schooled in Magic Schooled in Magic (Book I) Lessons in Etiquette (Book II) Study in Slaughter (Book III) Work Experience (Book IV) The School of Hard Knocks (Book V) Love’s Labor’s Won (Book VI) Trial By Fire (Book VII) Wedding Hells (Book VIII) Infinite Regress (Book IX) Past Tense (Book X) The Sergeant’s Apprentice (Book XI) The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire Barbarians at the Gates (Book I) The Shadow of Cincinnatus (Book II) The Barbarian Bride (Book III) HENCHMEN PRESS First Strike

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2017 by Christopher G. Nuttall All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by 47North, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and 47North are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781612185064 ISBN-10: 1612185061 Cover design by Ray Lundgren Cover illustrated by Paul Youll

  CONTENTS PROLOGUE CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CHAPTER FORTY ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  PROLOGUE “I refuse to believe,” Lord Cleric Eliseus snarled, “that we are losing the war.” Speaker Nehemiah kept his face carefully blank as the Lord Cleric ranted in front of the entire Speakers Council, the nine men who ruled the Theocracy, accusing an unfortunate intelligence officer of everything from making up figures to outright heresy and unbelief. The Lord Cleric didn’t want to accept what he was being told. None of them did. The thought of losing the war, the war which had begun with such promise eighteen months ago, was unthinkable. But they had to face it squarely. “Enough,” Nehemiah said sharply. Eliseus spun around to face him. “Speaker, do you believe that we are losing the war?” Nehemiah looked back at the Lord Cleric evenly. Eliseus was a fanatic. There was no one more determined to uphold the Theocracy and the True Faith than himself. And Nehemiah would be the first to admit that fanatics had their uses. But when contemplating the cold hard numbers—and the possibility

  CHAPTER ONE “Transit complete, Captain,” Lieutenant Matthew Gross said. “We have entered the system.” “No enemy contacts detected,” Lieutenant Commander Cecelia Parkinson added, studying her console carefully. “I’m not detecting any starships within sensor range.” Captain Sir William McElney sucked in his breath. HMS Thunderchild had slipped out of hyperspace on the very edge of the system, where there was no reason to expect to encounter enemy warships on patrol, but it was just possible that the Theocrats might have installed extensive deep-space monitoring arrays. They were immensely expensive, even by the Commonwealth’s standards, yet the Theocracy needed them. Hebrides was right in the middle of the war front. “Take us into cloak,” he ordered quietly. The tactical display updated again. A handful of freighters were making their way to and from the system’s largest gas giant, but otherwise the system appeared to be empty. He knew it was an illusion. “And then set course for Hebride

  CHAPTER TWO If there was one advantage of being promoted to commodore, Kat Falcone considered, it was that she had a truly palatial suite onboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. Her compartment on the superdreadnought was still smaller than her rooms in the family mansion—and she couldn’t help feeling as though she was rattling around like a pea in a pod—but there was plenty of room for two people. And hardly anyone cared if the task force’s commander was sharing a bed with her Marine CO. She sat upright in bed, turning her head to look down at Patrick Davidson. It was rare, very rare, for her to wake without disturbing him, but he barely even stirred as she moved. She smiled as she studied him, fixing his features in her mind. Dark hair cut close to the skull, a shaved face, muscular body . . . before Pat, she’d never met anyone who made her feel safe. But then, she hadn’t been looking. They made an odd couple, she had to admit. There was definitely something rough about Pat—Kat’s sister had cal

  CHAPTER THREE “I have the latest reports from Saladin,” Commander Farad said. He held out a datapad, the report glowing on the screen. “Her commander insists the ship can handle her duties.” Admiral Ashram took the datapad, struggling to hide his displeasure. He’d grown to hate Hebrides over the last two months, ever since he’d been assigned to replace the previous officer. That worthy had been brutally murdered in a local brothel, the whore who’d killed him vanishing into the underground before the Inquisitors could catch up with her. Ashram had no idea how the underground had even managed to slip someone into the brothel, but he had to admit the unbelievers were very good at exploiting the Theocracy’s weaknesses. “Let me see,” he said. “Does he really feel he can take his ship into combat?” He groaned under his breath as he scanned the report. The superdreadnought had lost two of her four fusion cores, ensuring she could barely limp back to the shipyard. There was no way she could ta

  CHAPTER FOUR “Sir, the enemy fleet is entering orbit!” “Open fire,” General Barak snapped. He cursed Admiral Ashram savagely as his officers struggled to carry out their orders. If the wretched bastard had done his bloody job . . . there were only two PDCs on the planet’s surface, both positioned within five kilometers of Lothian. Their force shields were strong enough to stand up to enemy bombardment—unless the enemy decided to wipe the planet clean of life in a desperate attempt to crack the defenses—but their ground-based weapons couldn’t shoot through the planet. There was nothing stopping the enemy ships from lurking on the other side while they landed ground troops to retake the wretched shithole. And here we are, stuck under a PDC, watching helplessly, he thought. The command center had very little to command. They have us on the ropes and they know it. “The enemy fleet is engaging our bases with KEWs,” the officer added. “Sir . . .” “Order the ground troops to take up positions

  CHAPTER FIVE “Nuclear detonation,” Cecelia snapped. “I say again, multiple nuclear detonations!” William snapped out of his command chair as new icons, icons he’d never seen outside training simulations, blossomed to life on the display. Nuclear strikes, dozens of them, on a planetary surface! No one had nuked a planet-side target since the Breakaway Wars, when Earth’s surface had been blasted clean of life. Even the Theocracy had declined to nuke civilian populations . . . . . . until now. “At least fifty blasts,” Cecelia said. She sounded badly shaken. “All on or near population centers. Preliminary sensor readings suggest the blasts were high
ly radioactive.” William felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Nuclear weapons hadn’t been radioactive for centuries, ever since straight fusion warheads had entered service. But the Theocracy wouldn’t have any trouble designing weapons that produced vast clouds of radiation as well as slaughtering thousands and tearing up the landscape. Anyo

  CHAPTER SIX “Captain,” Crewwoman Shannon Foster said, “are you sure you want to land here?” William swallowed the angry response that came to mind. The landing zone he’d designated was over seventy kilometers from the nearest nuclear detonation, but the radiation in the air was already alarmingly high—not enough to cause him real problems, thanks to gene-splicing, medical nanotechnology, and booster injections, yet enough to be worrying. Some of the locals might survive, but their unborn children would pay a fearsome price. “Yes,” he said shortly. “You see that croft over there? Put us down next to it.” “Aye, sir,” Shannon said. The shuttle touched down with nary a bump. William made a mental note, as he donned his long coat, to ensure that Shannon received a commendation for her flying, and then he headed for the hatch. Flying hadn’t gotten any easier in the seven days since his homeworld had been nuked, he knew; the weather had become dangerously unpredictable, great gusts of turbule

  CHAPTER SEVEN “I think you need to go to sleep for a week,” Kat said as Pat entered her cabin. “You look ghastly.” “I was sleeping in the suit,” Pat said. He did look tired, his face pale and wan; his eyes dull, almost lifeless. “It wasn’t very pleasant.” Kat nodded as she gave him a tight hug, wrinkling her nose at the smell. Pat and her flag captain had threatened to handcuff her to her command chair if she tried to go down to the surface herself, but she knew she’d only get in the way. The last ten days had been chaotic as her marines and their support crews had struggled to cope with a humanitarian crisis on an unimaginable scale. It would be months, she suspected, before the fleet could truthfully say that they had the situation under control. God alone knew how many people would die before then. Pat drew back slightly. “Tell me there’s help on the way.” “I’ve called every ship and medical crew in the sector,” Kat assured him. “Hopefully, most of them will come.” “It won’t be enou

  CHAPTER EIGHT As prisons went, Admiral Junayd thought, his apartment on Tyre was remarkably pleasant. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but he’d been surprised by the sheer level of luxury the Commonwealth was prepared to offer him. The apartment was huge, with a giant bath, an entertainment complex that allowed him to explore popular culture, and room service that brought him the finest foods and drinks. There was nothing like it on Ahura Mazda, not even for the Speakers. And to think such accommodations were commonplace on Tyre! The lowest of the low on the Commonwealth’s homeworld lived a life far beyond the imaginations of even the highest on Ahura Mazda. And all such luxury cost him, he reflected, was answering a few questions. He’d long since lost any qualms he might have about aiding the enemy. He’d quickly realized that the Theocracy’s calculations of the Commonwealth’s industrial potential were grave underestimates. The only hope for victory had been an immediate drive on Ty

  CHAPTER NINE “Entering hyperspace now, Captain,” Lieutenant Gross said. “Local hyperspace appears clear,” Cecelia added. “There’s nothing here but us chickens.” “Good,” William said. The odds were against the Theocracy waiting in ambush, but the possibility couldn’t be discounted. The task force, its corridors crammed with evacuees and its life support redlined, was in no state for a fight. “Keep us in formation.” He sat back in his command chair and forced himself to relax. Cold logic told him he could do nothing more for his homeworld, but he didn’t believe it. He’d been sorely tempted to request permission to remain behind, along with the other volunteers, yet he’d known permission would never be granted. Thunderchild and her sisters were needed to flank the task force as she returned to the fleet base. And then . . . Perhaps we go on the offensive, he thought. The last courier boat to arrive had included updates stating that the entire Commonwealth was outraged at the atrocity with

  CHAPTER TEN Kat hadn’t been to McCaughey Naval Base since 2416, when she’d been XO on HMS Thunderous. Then, the military buildup had barely begun and the naval base had been relatively small. Now, dozens of heavily armed fortresses protected a planet surrounded by mobile repair yards, industrial nodes, and everything else 6th Fleet needed for its grand offensive. Ten whole squadrons of superdreadnoughts, flanked by over two hundred smaller warships, held station above the defense network, while thousands of freighters and interplanetary transports powered their way in and out of the system. The whole sight awed her beyond words. The Theocracy wouldn’t dare attack us here, she thought as the task force reentered realspace and headed towards the planet. They’d be obliterated with ease. “Signal from Admiral Christian,” Lieutenant Darren Cobb reported. “He welcomes you to McCaughey and invites you to report onboard HMS Hammerhead at your earliest opportunity.” “As soon as possible, he mean

  CHAPTER ELEVEN “All rise,” the prime minister said. “All rise for His Majesty, King Hadrian.” Duke Lucas Falcone, Minister for War Production, rose to his feet as King Hadrian walked through the door and took his seat at the head of the table. The king was young, only two years older than Lucas’s youngest daughter, but Lucas had to admit that he’d proven himself a reasonably effective war leader. And yet, the king’s youth worried him. Kids, in his experience, were prone to making mistakes through simple ignorance of the world around them. “Be seated,” King Hadrian said. He was a tall man, his short dark hair crowning a face that had been deliberately designed for strength of character rather than raw beauty. The geneticists had outdone themselves, Lucas admitted; King Hadrian looked trustworthy, as if he could make tough decisions. And yet he’d been thrust forward too quickly. His father hadn’t been willing or able to make his heirs compete for power. King Hadrian simply lacked the exp

  CHAPTER TWELVE “Thirteen of the girls have applied to join the navy,” Morag said as she and William walked towards the shuttle. “And their parents are not happy.” “They’ll stay in touch,” William assured her. “And they’ll certainly be very different when they get home.” “That’s the point,” Morag admitted. “And there isn’t a home for us any longer.” William nodded. The flight to McCaughey had been nerve-wracking as the life support had fluctuated, constantly on the verge of a breakdown, while the evacuees and the crew struggled to cope with culture shock. He’d had to speak quite sharply to several of his crew; four young men for flirting with evacuee women, two young women for trying to convince evacuees that they’d have a better life in the Commonwealth. And while he didn’t blame any of his crew, he knew their evangelism was a problem. He stepped back as Father Larry led the older women and children into the shuttlecraft, muttering prayers under his breath. The old man hadn’t coped ver

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN “There’s nothing we can do,” Kat said. “Supplies are already being pushed to the limit.” She sighed as she sat back in her chair. She’d invited both William and Pat to dinner, but the discussion had rapidly turned political. She supposed the development shouldn’t have surprised her, not after the destruction of an entire planet. The Commonwealth’s best attempts to cope with the crisis were still proving woefully inadequate. “The barracks are overcrowded,” Pat said softly. “It won’t be long before there’s a full-scale riot.” “And everyone is stuck in the camps,” William added. “They can’t even join the navy!” Kat took a sip of her wine. She didn’t blame either of them for siding with the refugees, but the briefs her father had sent her were depressingly blunt. The Battle of Hebrides had caused no end of economic damage to the Commonwealth as stock markets plummeted and resources were diverted to assist the survivors. The analysts had noted that the knock-on effects were

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN The giant auditorium on the orbital battlestation was easily large enough to hold every commanding officer attached to the fleet, Kat decided, as she followed Admiral Christian into the massive compartment. By traditio
n, every captain and commodore should have attended in person, but a good third of them had been ordered to remain on their ships, just in case the Theocracy picked exactly the wrong moment to launch an attack. It was unlikely that the enemy would risk an attack, yet it was better to be paranoid than dead. She sucked in her breath as she saw the assembled rows of captains, then hurried down to take her place in the front row. Sixth Fleet had been the most powerful formation in the Royal Navy even before the reinforcements had arrived; now, she was the single most powerful fleet in space by a very large margin. She represented such a concentration of military power that her ultimate success seemed assured, no matter what obstacles the enemy might throw in

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN “Sir! Enemy sniper!” Pat hit the ground as a bullet cracked over his head. Cursing, he crawled into cover as a hail of machine-gun fire split the air, slashing through the sniper’s estimated position. A body fell off the building and plummeted down to the ground, striking the solid concrete with an audible thud. Pat rose to his knees, hastily scanning his surroundings for more enemy soldiers before getting to his feet and slipping forward. Remaining still in an urban environment was just asking to get killed. He tongued his voder. “Bring up the reinforcements,” he ordered. “We’re going to need them.” “Yes, sir,” the sergeant said. Pat shook his head as he surveyed the scene. Countless apartment blocks, so primitive they didn’t even have plastic or glass windows, let alone hot or cold running water; dozens of ruined cars and vans surrounded by piles of foul-smelling rubbish. The stench of burning hydrocarbons hung in the air, a mocking reminder that Ahura Mazda didn’t ha

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN Admiral Junayd had expected an uncomfortable trip from Tyre to McCaughey. He’d never served on a courier boat, but he’d spent a good percentage of his time as a commanding officer shuttling from place to place in a tiny ship, and he’d expected nothing better. Instead, he’d been pleasantly surprised—and yet dismayed—by the sheer extravagance of the naval liner that had carried him to McCaughey. If the Commonwealth could afford such a luxurious ship merely to move its admirals from place to place, how large a war fleet could it afford? He saw the answer as White Swan dropped out of hyperspace and glided towards the waiting fleet. There were thousands of warships surrounding McCaughey, backed up by dozens of giant orbital fortresses and entire swarms of gunboats and automated weapons platforms. He didn’t even want to imagine just how many PDCs might be mounted on the planet’s surface, ready and waiting to engage anyone foolish enough to claim the high orbitals. Details wer