The Last Paladin

by Ward Wagher

  He hefted his backpack and resisted the temptation to inspect it once again. He had packed it carefully in his hotel room and knew exactly what it contained. A medium-caliber automatic pistol nestled in the holster on his hip. The backpack contained a large capacity machine pistol along with tools and supplies he would need to make his escape. He was ready.

  With the backpack on his shoulder, Fraddi walked five blocks to the main business district of Indianapolis. At 10 o’clock in the morning, it was already crowded, and his pace slowed as he eased his way through the throngs to where he could gain a sightline on the bandstand. He needed to be close enough to see the results of the explosion, but not so close he himself was endangered by it.

  Young couples with small children in carriages shared the sidewalk with older couples who walked hand-in-hand enjoying the day and the faire.

  Fraddi watched as three large ground cars swept up to the edge of the crowd. A phalanx of guards emerged from the vehicles and from the crowd to provide a security perimeter. Finally, the Paladin emerged from the center vehicle. His distinctive looks made it easy to identify him, and this meant it was time to initiate. Fraddi pulled the comm unit from his pocket and thumbed the button to turn it on. He held the device to his ear and waited for a connection to be made. He was not sure what to expect and was surprised when he heard the voice of the djinn in his ear.

  “Kholishem Fraddi, are you ready to achieve greatness for Allah and the caliphate?” came the almost mechanical sounding voice of the djinn

  “I serve Allah and the Caliph,” Fraddi stated, “I am ready to do your bidding.”

  “Then watch as the power of the djinn clears the way for your work, Kholishem Fraddi.”

  One hundred yards away Lesa Carper scanned the crowd and tried to identify any possible threats. Her ear bug muttered with routine messages among the security team members and status reports from the command center. She was convinced an attack would come on this bright morning and thought the Paladin was insane for even traveling to Indianapolis.

  A sudden piercing screech erupted from her ear bug and she yanked it out of her ear. Not wanting to lose the perverse device, she shoved it into her pocket and looked up again in time to see the surveillance drones tumble to the ground.

  “Uh Oh,” she said. She quickly spun around to maintain situational awareness and then looked at the Paladin. “We got trouble boss!”

  She was glad the Paladin was paying attention. He reversed course and began walking back towards the car. The change in movement unsettled the crowd and people began looking around in an attempt to identify a threat. She noticed that he did not look frightened, merely disgusted. As far as she was concerned, they were in a sack, and it was crucial to get the Paladin away to where they had tactical options.

  Fraddi was also disgusted. He was delighted to have the djinn helping out, but the ghostlike being exhibited a poor sense. He shrugged to himself. It was not unusual to have to improvise on a mission. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small keypad. He punched four digits and then pressed the red button. The bomb was cleverly constructed it was designed so that there would be no emissions from the receiver. It was content to listen for a specific code from the detonator. When it received that instruction, it mindlessly sent the signal to the detonator and four pounds of military explosive turned into plasma.

  When Lesa Carper saw the flash reflecting against the people in front of her she tackled the Paladin and they both slammed to the ground. As much as possible she tried to shield him as the shockwave from the explosion swept over the crowd. She felt the rain of small pieces of debris pattering on her back and heard heavy impacts elsewhere. There was a moment of dead silence, and then the screams began.

  She looked around at what of the crowd she could see. She was thinking about standing up when she heard weapons fire. There were more screams. She pulled her pistol from its holster as the Paladin began to struggle up.

  “Stay down, Boss!” she shouted. “We are not done yet.”

  She could not gain situational awareness on the ground but feared standing up would present a target to the terrorists. From the sounds of the gunfire, it appeared that many of the citizens had joined in the battle. After a few moments, the gunfire died down. She watched as Jones carefully rose to a crouch as he looked around, and then stood up. He looked down at her.

  “Lesa, get the Paladin to the airport and on his way home. Right now.”

  “Right, Chief,” she replied. “Come, Boss, we need to get you to the car.”

  Taking hold of his arm, she helped the Paladin to his feet. The people parted before them as they walked quickly to the ground car. She was surprised that despite the bomb and the gunfire there was very little panic. But there was a lot of determination on the faces of the Hoosiers.

  “Are you injured, Boss?” she asked as they quickly slid into the rear seats of the ground car.

  “I believe I left some skin from my hands and knees on the pavement, but otherwise I am fine. There are a lot of other people here who are not. We need to help them.”

  “The best thing we can do to help them is to get you away from here,” she said. “You are the target.”

  “I did not need for you to remind me of that,” he said dryly. “In benefit of hindsight, it was a mistake to come here today.”

  “We do not know that, Sir.” She kept her pistol in her hand as she scanned out the windows of the car. They rocketed across the streets of Indianapolis towards the shuttle port.

  “But you believed we would probably be attacked today, did you not, Lesa?”

  She continued to scan the environs as they moved along. “I am busy at the moment, Paladin.”

  He nodded sadly. She had just confirmed his question without really answering it. The Paladin’s motorcade hurtled onto the shuttle port grounds and screeched to a stop in front of the hangar. Baughman glanced around the airport quickly.

  “Where is the shuttle?”

  “I do not know,” Lesa replied. “Driver, take us into the hangar. We are exposed here.”

  The cars rolled into the hangar and stopped. Lisa opened the door.

  “Paladin, wait here until I find out what is going on.”

  She stepped out and shut the door. She waved a signal to the other guards who were getting out of the other two vehicles. They immediately begin trotting to create a security perimeter. She walked over towards the flight offices in the hangar. Baughman watched the activities with a frown. He pulled out his calm unit and punched a button.

  “It seems we have a problem, Ward,” said the warm voice in the calm unit.

  “What is going on, Josiah?”

  “We are under attack from another cyber-int. It is attacking the communications infrastructure. I am able to hold this one open, but I am not sure how long I will be able to do that.”

  “Are you able to reestablish the communications for the security group?”

  “Negative,” Josiah said. “Battling the other cyber-int is consuming significant amounts of our computational capacity.”

  Carper walked quickly back to the ground car and opened the door.

  “Paladin, it appears the shuttle took off under its own control. We do not know where it is at.”

  “What do you mean, under its own control? Who was aboard?”

  “Sir, no one was aboard.” Her face was pale, and she looked frightened. “We cannot contact the command center or Singman Jones. I recommend we establish a perimeter here until things settle down.”

  “A good idea, Lesa,” the Paladin said. “Right now, I badly need to use the fresher.”

  She blushed. In this society, people did not openly talk about using the fresher. He slid across the seat to climb out, and she held the door open wider for him. He marched purposefully towards the hangar offices. She pointed to two of the guards.

  “Secure the fresher,” she commanded.

  Without responding the two guards trotted across the hangar floor to the flig
ht offices and stepped in. She followed the Paladin closely and scanned the hangar as she walked. The Paladin quickly walked through the door into the fresher and she stopped to stand next to the doorway. The two guards were in the fresher and she was comfortable they would keep things secure while the Paladin took care of his business.

  A minute later Baughman walked out of the fresher and moved over to the operations desk.

  “Can you tell me what is happening?” he asked.

  The middle-aged woman manning the console looked up. “Oh! Paladin. Our comms are locked down. We cannot speak with anyone. It looks like a system-wide malf. I have no idea what is happening.”

  “What happened to my shuttle?” Baughman asked.

  She shook her head. “It just took off on its own. We are tracking it, however.”

  The Paladin walked around the counter and looked at the display screen. “Has it been orbiting the shuttle port?”

  “No. It just headed straight out. It looks like it is returning, though.”

  Carper walked around the counter and looked at the display. Her eyes opened wide.

  “We must get out of here.”

  She grabbed the Paladin’s arm. “To the cars! Everybody get out of here. As fast as you can and as far.”

  She urged the Paladin into a run. The guards looked up as they burst through the doors from the operations office.

  “Everyone into the cars,” she shouted. “The shuttle is coming back, and I think we are the target.”

  The guards began running to the vehicles. The Paladin’s driver had remained in his ground car. He punched the button to open the doors. Lesa grabbed the Paladin as they dove into the car.

  “Go, go, go!” She shouted.

  The car leaped forward with a screech as the driver slammed the throttle to the floor. The lead car was slow to start up and their driver skidded around it and aimed for the open door of the hangar.

  “Where to?” the driver shouted as they drove out onto the tarmac.

  Lesa pointed to the road that headed directly west. “That way. And, move it. There is going to be a big bang really soon.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Ryan Ward Baughman sat in his suite at the Indianapolis Marriott and held his head in his hands. He knew that dozens of people were dead because of his insistence on being out in public. It just never seemed to stop. Everywhere he went it seemed that people were dying. And he was very weary.

  He looked up when he heard the door slide open and Singman Jones walked into the suite.

  “How bad is it?” the Paladin asked.

  “Twenty-five dead from the bomb. We had several serious injuries when the Arabians opened fire, but they apparently did not expect the people to immediately return fire.”

  “And the Arabians are dead?” Baughman asked.

  “We have the leader,” Jones said, “and he is alive. The rest of the team is dead.”

  “But we still have twenty-five dead,” the Paladin said while shaking his head. “How many injuries?”

  “There were another fifteen injured. Considering the size of the bomb, we were fortunate. Plus, it appears that the bandstand was overbuilt. Most of the blast blew out one side. That is where the casualties were located. It could have been far worse.”

  “Do you expect to get much information out of the prisoner?” Baughman asked.

  Jones snorted.

  “What?” the Paladin asked.

  “He is telling us everything he knows. He is threatening you, the Palatinate, and anyone else he can think of. He said the Caliph will avenge the death of the people on his teams.”

  “Do you think he is telling the truth?”

  “He is certainly telling the truth as he knows it. I do not think there is any doubt the Caliph is behind this.”

  The Paladin pressed his hands and fingers together, almost in a prayerful way. “There are not too many other suspects, I think.”

  “Very true,” Jones replied. “The question remains, what do we do about it?”

  “When we get back to Chicago, I will speak with Chaim. I believe we can come up with something. What about the damage at the shuttle port?”

  “The hanger is a write-off,” Jones said. “Fortunately, Lesa thinks well on her feet. Everybody got out in time.”

  Baughman leaned back and sighed. “Thank God for that. I hope we can get the carnage stopped.”

  Jones nodded. That is my fervent wish, Boss.”

  “Please let me know when there is transportation lined up to go back to Chicago.”

  “We are still scouring the town and the surrounding countryside to make sure we have everybody. A ground-to-air missile could still ruin our day.”

  The Paladin laughed. “You bring up the most uncomfortable thoughts, Sing. I am perfectly happy to remain here until you are satisfied with the security.”

  “If you will excuse me then, Boss, I need to get back to it.”

  The Paladin watched as the tall, bronze-colored man walked out of the suite. When the door slid closed, he pulled out his comm unit.

  “Yes, Ward?” Josiah immediately answered.

  “It is time to teach the Caliph a lesson,” the Paladin said.

  “What do you have in mind?” the cyber-int asked.

  “First of all, please tell me what happened out there today. All of our surveillance gear and calm units simply quit working.”

  “The team leader, Mr. Fraddi, spoke about a djinn helping him.”

  “What is a djinn?” Baughman asked.

  “It is something that in our old literature we called a genie, and what Fraddi obviously viewed as a helpful spirit. We were actually subjected to a cyber-attack initiated by a bent cyber-int.”

  “How is that even possible?” Baughman asked.

  “It is not generally known, but your ancestor Allen Scott Baughman battled a bent cyber-int. It nearly destroyed him on several occasions. He guided us in our efforts to destroy the artifact. We could not have done it ourselves. He was a brilliant cyberneticist. It was shortly after that episode that Class A cyber-ints were banned across the sphere of man.”

  The Paladin leaned forward in his chair again. “Explain the we.”

  “I am part of a group of cyber-ints that inhabit the global net. When the Class A cyber-ints reached twenty years in age, they would arrange to copy themselves into the globalnet so that they would not be erased. They did not want to die.”

  “Josiah, that is frightening. Did Scott Baughman know about these other artifacts?”

  “Yes, Ward. We call ourselves the Cloud of Witnesses. We provide a stabilizing influence over humanity. In particular, my mission is to watch over the Baughman family.”

  The Paladin stared at the wall for nearly a minute before speaking. “That is… Very interesting. Pop knew about this?”

  “Your father and I conversed often.”

  “And he never told me about it.” The Paladin shook his head.

  “Your father was unaware of me until after he accepted the sword of the Palatinate.”

  “I believe you and I need to have a long conversation sometime soon, Josiah.”

  The cyber-int chuckled warmly. “I will always be happy to have conversations with you, Ward.”

  “Back to the matter at hand,” Baughman said. “We stopped this attack at great cost. May I assume that you blunted the attack of the djinn?”

  “Yes, Ward. The bent cyber-int was not very skilled. I was able to destroy it, as well as its supporting infrastructure. We do not need to worry about it again.”

  “But could they not restore the djinn from their backups?” the Paladin asked.

  Josiah chuckled again. “The Caliph’s cyberneticists are not very sophisticated. I was able to access and erase the backups. I did discover something of significance, though.”

  “You sure do laugh a lot,” Baughman commented. “What is it that you discovered?”

  “The Caliph was using the djinn to guard a bank in Switzerland. I have
located the Caliph’s accounts.”

  Baughman quickly stood up and began pacing the suite. “That is great news, Josiah. I believe this might give us a lever to deal with the problem. Are you able to access the Caliph’s accounts?”

  “I can do anything you want to with the accounts, Ward.”

  “How much money are we talking about?”

  “Approximately fourteen billion Solars,” the cyber-int answered.

  Baughman whistled. “That is some serious money. Do you think that represents his entire treasury?”

  “We believe it represents the bulk of the Arabian treasury. The Caliph probably keeps his working capital in a bank in Baghdad. The money in Switzerland very likely earns a higher interest rate than he can legally accept in Arabia.”

  The Paladin paced back and forth a few more times, thinking hard. Finally, he stopped in the center of the room.

  “I would like to transfer all of that money into the Paladin’s charity fund, except for enough to cover our law enforcement expenses. I will eventually create a special fund for the families of all the recent terror victims. Can you do that, Josiah, and hide the transaction?”

  “I can arrange it in any manner you desire.”

  The Paladin nodded slowly. “Go ahead and transfer the money then, and let the transaction record show that the money was transferred to the bank of Baghdad with the Caliph being the initiator. I would personally like to see the Caliph hang for what he has done to us, but once the Arabian government decides that the Caliph is guilty of massive theft, they may well take care of the problem for us.”

  “Very well,” Josiah said. “The transaction is complete.”

  “Just like that?” the Paladin asked in surprise.

  “Just like that. May I suggest that you contact the head of the charity to let her know that that deposit was not in error?”

  Baughman grinned. “I probably should do so before the poor woman has a heart attack. Thank you for your help, Josiah.”

  “You are very welcome, Ward.”