The Crane War

by Graeme Rodaughan

  A brief moment later the team converged at the top of the stairs amongst a chorus of ‘all clears.’

  “Right,” Arthur said. “Time to get this party started.” He strode over to a nearby valve wheel, gripped it, and turned it firmly anti-clockwise until it locked.

  “What does that do?” Francis asked.

  “Shuts off an overflow valve. It’ll cause the base to send a maintenance crew.”

  “But they’ll discover us,” Jay said, nonplussed.

  “Precisely.”

  Anton grinned. “You want them to come?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Francis asked.

  “Because I have a man on the inside.”

  The rest of the team stared at Arthur. Francis rubbed his eyes as if he was waking up from a nap. Jay picked at some imaginary fluff on his combat webbing. Chiara rubbed the side of her nose, Li smiled derisively, and Peter snorted with rueful admiration.

  “Awesome,” Anton enthused.

  Arthur consulted a wrist watch. “He should be here in three minutes.”

  “Who?” Francis asked.

  “An Order helper.”

  “Someone who can’t ramp? In this place?” Jay asked incredulously. “They’ll be a liability.”

  Arthur shook his head. “Not at all, he couldn’t be someone who has undergone the transition. Ramp masters run a little hot, have very low heart rates, and high body density. The vampires are looking for those markers. My friend is a perfect match to the role he’s playing.”

  Jay remarked acidly, “You have friends?”

  Francis looked hard at Jay, and chastised him. “It doesn’t matter who he is. We have a mission to execute.” He looked pointedly back at Arthur. “There is only one way out now. We’ll have to give everything we’ve got to reach that goal.”

  “Speaking of which,” Li asked, “are we ready to execute your plan?”

  Arthur smiled. “A timely question, Li.” His eyes flicking around the team. “We’ll need to split up. Anton and Li, you’ll destroy the southern power station and the diesel backup arrays. Francis and Jay, you’ll do the same for the northern power station and the diesel backups there. That will cause a base wide power fail-over to emergency fuel-cell backup systems and activate the Panopticon evacuation mode. Peter and Chiara, you’ll take over the nemesis tower and destroy the four specter towers before disabling the nemesis tower. This will enable us to commandeer a nightfalcon and fly out of here without being shot down.”

  “And what will you be doing?” Li asked.

  “I’ll be down in the main server room stealing the Panopticon. I’ll meet you in the hangers and we’ll escape together.”

  Li’s dark eyes widened and she shivered. “You won’t make the hangers. None of us will. You just described at least half of my vision.”

  Arthur stared at her for a moment, the team standing like statues around him. “Even so, I invite you to challenge the future you have seen, are you willing to try?”

  Li fell silent, a troubled frown creasing her forehead.

  Arthur said, “Silence implies consent. So, I’ll take that as a yes.” He lifted his wrist, consulting his watch again. “Our friend should be -”

  A door in the nearest wall slid open. A tall, slim, almost gangly man, wearing gray coveralls and carrying a battered toolbox stood in the doorway. His gaze locked on Arthur and he strode across the floor with long strides. Weaving through the team, he dropped his toolbox on the floor, grabbing Arthur on both shoulders and exclaimed, “You shouldn’t have come!”

  “Why, Dwayne?” Arthur asked quietly.

  “General Maze is here with sixteen praetorians and forty-eight day guards. They know you’re coming; they’re expecting you. The base is crawling with vampires. You have to leave.”

  “Unfortunately, there is no way back,” Jay stated harshly. “Our escape route has been blocked.”

  “What?” Dwayne asked incredulously. “You’re trapped?”

  “Not so,” Arthur answered. “We still have a clear path forward. Are you ready to guide us?”

  Dwayne nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “Guide us?” Anton asked.

  “The maintenance team have to be able to access all areas,” Arthur stated. “All parts of the base need to be cleaned and maintained. More specifically, we need Dwayne’s pass to access the maintenance tunnels.”

  Dwayne frowned for a moment, then jogged over to the overflow valve and spun it clockwise until it locked. He turned and glanced around at the team. “Quickly now, the faster this is done, the better your chance of survival.”

  Arthur glanced around the team and instructed, “Dwayne will lead us to the next level down, which is a general maintenance access level below the main base. It will give us access to the relevant mission objectives. Once there, we’ll split up.” He waved his right hand in a flat arc toward the one doorway leading out of the pumping station. “It’s time to move.”

  Arthur and Dwayne strode for the doorway, Anton falling in behind them followed by the rest of the team.

  A man on the inside! Brilliant, Anton thought. This just gets better and better. We should have joined up with my grandfather sooner. We could have been here months ago. Geez, Juliette and Yvette would still be alive.

  Anton heaved a sigh of regret. What had they been doing all this time? Ramin Kain’s lies about his grandfather had blocked Arthur from helping the Mirovar force team. Was that Kain’s greatest crime? Dividing the Order and ensuring that an uncountable number of people had died at the hands of vampires who could otherwise have been saved?

  He shook his head. The Order had gone mad decades ago. The Order was beyond all redemption. The war against the vampires required a new approach. Now it was time to bring the war to them. Anton blurred to the front next to Dwayne. He wanted to be on point for whatever was coming. It was the best place to be to ensure his friends were protected and the mission had the best chance of success.

  He was sure of it.

  * * *

  General Maze had sent squads to check every nook and cranny of the fortress.

  The maintenance alarm in the pumping station had caught the general’s attention and he’d sent a squad of praetorians and two squads of day guards to check it out.

  Corporal Max Hendrickson had participated in the take down of the Order conclave the day before. Leading Alpha squad, he’d taken out the two Order guards at the front of the converted chapel and then dealt in blood and death within the hall. If it hadn’t been for the ‘magic,’ mist the day guards would’ve killed all the hostiles in the old chapel.

  An ex-JSOC ‘ghost recon,’ soldier, he’d been tapped on the shoulder for an ultra-secret program. It’d seemed like the obvious next step for a man of his specialized skills, but nothing had prepared him for ‘the serum,’ as they called it. Half the new recruits had washed out and been sent home. The rest had gone into extensive training against the praetorians. Who the hell they were was a mystery. As enhanced as he’d become, the praetorians were twice as fast and three times as strong.

  Max figured the answers were above his pay grade.

  He led his squad behind four praetorians. Oddly, they reminded him of ancient knights in their smooth matte-black body armor and edged weapons. The only concessions to the modern world were their light machine guns, armor made of nanoceramic composite instead of metal, and advanced tactical helmets.

  Max hoped the alarm turned out to be an incursion by the Order and not a false alarm. He’d lost good men in the chapel and wanted some revenge. He lifted his auto-aiming smart rifle and flicked the safety off.

  The praetorians halted, looked at each other for a moment, then loosened their weapons. The lead praetorian turned back to the two squads of day guards following and instructed quietly, “We sent one maintenance man to the pumping station, now there are eight people in there. Prepare for contact with the enemy.”

  Yeah, Max nodded silently, time for some payback!

&n
bsp; * * *

  Anton glanced around the edge of the doorway from the pumping station.

  A long corridor, twenty feet wide, and the same high, stretched for fifty yards away to his left before branching into a ‘T’ intersection. To his right, the corridor terminated another fifty yards away with a sensor locked cage door and a stairwell down.

  “To our right,” Dwayne said, stepping past Anton and guiding the team toward the cage door. “We have to go downstairs to maintenance sub-level zero dash one. The maintenance levels provide access to all the targets.”

  Anton broke to the left, instinctively guarding the approach from the main body of the facility. He held his assault rifle up, sighting down the barrel toward the ‘T’ intersection. He had a ‘bad feeling,’ in his guts that shit was about to hit the fan.

  Arthur hesitated at the doorway for a moment. He drew his auto-pistol from its holster, sidled up next to Anton, and whispered, “What’s up?”

  Anton shook his head, and lifted a finger to his lips.

  Arthur raised his fist to halt the team, then turned and flicked his fingers in front of his throat.

  Peter was next in line through the doorway, Li followed behind him. Peter unlimbered his multiple-grenade launcher and stepped to the left behind Arthur. Li took a position a couple of feet behind Anton’s left shoulder, lifting her P90 submachine gun and sighting along it.

  Anton stared down the corridor. He risked a glance back. Francis, Jay and Chiara had taken up positions down the corridor toward the stairwells. Dwayne was further back, crouched down next to the pumping station wall, waiting, a perplexed look stealing over his face.

  Li stilled next to Anton, dropping into a Ramp.

  Something scuffed against the wall or floor beyond the ‘T’ intersection. Was it a footfall? Did he just hear a click? Anton plunged into silence, diving deep into the depths of the Ramp. The corridor snapped into razor-sharp clarity, previously invisible dust motes floating serenely beneath bright overhead lights. He breathed in -

  Four armored vampires ran into the ‘T’ intersection. If he hadn’t ramped, they would have simply appeared in the corridor. They were moving hard and fast, light-machine guns blazing, rounds whipping toward the team in bright streams of fire.

  Bright blue light flickered on Anton’s left. Arthur had his auto-pistol straight-armed and pointing at the lead vampire, brilliant rounds surrounded by blue fire lancing down the corridor toward the oncoming praetorians. He rushed toward them, leaning forward deeply to avoid the lines of bright fire reaching deadly fingers to grasp the team.

  Anton slammed his finger against the trigger of his assault rifle. It barked into life, sending a stream of bullets toward the vampires. Their rounds were almost upon him. Li jagged violently left, her P90 submachine gun adding to the hellish environment in the middle of the corridor.

  Streams of fire whipped past him as Francis, Jay, and Chiara opened up with their weapons, and Peter’s MGL chuffed a fragmentation grenade high along the corridor toward the ‘T’ intersection.

  Power roared through him. Leaping to his right, Anton surged up the wall. The vampire’s machine gun fire stitching a line of holes beneath him. He ran along the wall toward the praetorians, the nearest vampire shifting his stance to bring his weapon to bear on Anton.

  Arthur was already half way toward the vampires, the Black Dragon flying free of its scabbard, glimmering beneath the bright lights. His auto-pistol stammering a deadly stream of bullets at a stunned praetorian, puffs of ceramic powder ablating from his helmet as he staggered backward.

  Swapping his assault rifle to his left hand, Anton descended the wall. The Blue Dragon gripped in his strong right hand rising like a silvery spirit above his head.

  The other three vampires were evading the fire from the rest of the team, drawing swords and battle axes, and firing back when they could.

  Arthur hit their front rank.

  Anton landed beside him an instant later.

  * * *

  A wall of fire erupted from the corridor ripping white plaster board and brick into plumes of gray and ocher dust.

  The praetorians had leveled weapons and blurred around the corner. A moment later, all hell broke loose. The serum had changed Max, now all he had to do was act, and the strength and speed would be there. A seemingly endless well of power flowed through his body. He rushed to the edge of the corridor; his team would be the second wave to confront the still unseen Order operatives.

  He’d seen how fast the Order operatives could move in the battle at the chapel. It was best not to get too close, better to keep them at a distance, and use the Panopticon and the smart rifles to hit them with five round bursts. That’d worked in the chapel. In the chapel the enemy had been mostly unarmed. The ones with weapons had done most of the damage to his fellow guards and had escaped.

  Would the praetorians survive? If they didn’t, the protocol was clear - use area of effect weapons to contain the enemy.

  A black armored form staggered back into the intersection, his machine gun dropping to the floor with a clatter, his left hand reaching for his helmet which was pierced through and through with bullet holes.

  How was he still standing?

  The stricken praetorian toppled over, blood gushing from beneath his helmet. A 40mm fragmentation grenade flew above him, bouncing against the wall and falling into the middle of the intersection.

  Max twisted around, throwing himself flat while shouting, “Incoming!”

  His team blurred behind him.

  * * *

  Peter’s fragmentation grenade bounced off the rear wall of the ‘T’ intersection, rolling across the floor into the middle of the praetorians.

  The Blue Dragon ground along the nearest praetorian’s bastard sword in a shower of sparks. Anton pushed and whirled, leaping twenty feet diagonally backward down the corridor, a stream of machine-gun fire chasing him through the air.

  Bright streams of fire speared down the corridor from the rest of the team to the right and left of the vampires. The praetorians dodged toward the middle of the corridor.

  A strong hand pushed against Anton’s left shoulder and he slid into the edge of the wall and floor.

  A moment later, Arthur landed beside him.

  Peter’s grenade exploded. The blast wave caught the praetorians, sending them flying through the net of fire erupting from Peter, Li, Jay, Francis and Chiara. Their rounds ripped through armor and flesh, painting the corridor walls red with vampire blood.

  The praetorians crashed to the floor, lying in still, black heaps, surmounted by a spreading plume of pink-tinged gray smoke.

  The guns fell silent, spent magazines dropping to the floor in a sharp clatter.

  Arthur moved, leaping to his feet and dashing away. He took a position hard up against the opposite corridor wall, staring down at the ‘T’ intersection. He straight-armed the auto-pistol in front of him, the Black Dragon resting in his right hand.

  Anton got to his feet swinging his assault rifle around, shedding the spent magazine and loading another in a fraction of a second.

  A two-inch wide chrome tube snaked around the left corner of the ‘T’ intersection. A dozen slim black canisters shot out of it with a staccato chuff of compressed air. The canisters spun hard and fast, hissing as they shot across the tiles. One exploded, taken out by a round from Arthur’s auto-pistol. Anton sighted on the nearest and squeezed the trigger. His rifle stuttered, bright rounds lancing toward the nearest canister. It ricocheted aside with sparks flying, sliding between Arthur and himself.

  There was a faint whiff of something sweet.

  Arthur staggered.

  Sharp reports echoed throughout the corridor, bright sparks rising from the tiles as the rest of the team fired at the sliding black fizzing canisters.

  Someone shouted, “Gas!”

  Before Anton could work out who’d spoken the world whirled, the solid tiles of the floor rising to meet him.

  A darkness as black
as any cave swept Anton away.

  * * *

  Anton’s eyelid flickered open.

  Sensation and memory returned with a rush. He raised his hands to shield his eye from the glare of the overhead lights. His eye patch was missing, his fingers coming away from his slowly healing left eye socket greasy with herbal balm. He lifted himself upon his elbows, a queasy nausea roiling in his guts. The room was a study in clinical whiteness, the color dominating every surface. Jay and Francis sat propped up against the opposite wall. Peter slouched against the right-side wall studying the single door opposite him with an appraising look. Chiara squatted next to Arthur, her fingers on his wrist, her eyes staring into the distance. Li paced in the middle of the room; her brow knitted with a troubled frown.

  Anton swallowed weakly, his mouth dry as dust and tasting just as foul. He croaked, “What the hell happened?”

  Li’s silhouette loomed above him. “We got captured.”

  “What about Arthur?”

  Li looked across at Arthur, lying in the recovery position on the floor’s white tiles. “He’s still unconscious, looks like he got the biggest dose.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”

  “We’re fucked.” Jay declared vehemently, rising from the floor. He moved closer to Arthur, his eyes flashing with anger. “We should have stayed away, like Li and I said.”

  Anton reached for the Blue Dragon. His hand faltered, the familiar weight was missing from his shoulders. All their equipment was gone, their swords, guns, ammo, nightglasses, watches, belts, combat webbing, they’d even taken their boots and his eye patch. Everyone was wearing loose combat fatigues and nothing else. His jaw dropped, Jay was right, they were in deep shit.

  Jay took another step closer to Arthur. Chiara glanced up, a sudden frown creasing her forehead. Peter pushed himself off the wall and took a step forward, his eyes wary. Francis rose to his feet and commanded, “Jay, no!”