The Crane War

by Graeme Rodaughan

  Jay whirled on Francis, and snapped, “What! You think I’d kick him while he’s down.” He took a deep breath and let it out. A wild light gleamed within his eyes and he promised harshly. “No. I’ll wait for him to wake up.”

  Li stepped forward to face Jay. “Rein it in, Jay.” She swung her left hand wide back toward the door. “I’m sure they’d love to watch us fight amongst ourselves.”

  Anton leaped to his feet to back her up, but kept back a yard, he didn’t want to inflame the situation further. Li was right, they had to stay united in the face of whatever was happening. If they were divided, the battle was already lost - if it hadn’t been already. Anton glanced down at his grandfather, perhaps the old guy still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He glanced around the room; someone was missing. He asked, “Where’s the Order helper? Dwayne?”

  Everyone shook their heads, no one knew what had happened to Arthur’s man on the inside. Had they been betrayed again?

  Arthur groaned, rolled over, sat up and pulled a hand down his face. “What the hell happened?” He shook his head once, and answered his own question. “Knock out gas.” He rubbed his face again, glanced around the team and stated matter-of-factly, “So, they put us in the brig.”

  Jay’s eyes flashed. “You fatalistic prick.” He paused for a moment, breathing hard. “Well, I suppose we can chalk this up to ‘no plan survives contact with the enemy.’”

  “Well,” Arthur said, lifting a finger as if to make a point to a recalcitrant student. “You are no longer at the mercy of the dictum that, ‘No plan survives contact with the enemy,’ if you truly have no plan - only a process.”

  A look of perplexity stole over Jay’s face and he snapped, “And what the hell does that mean?”

  Arthur shrugged. “You’ll work it out soon enough.”

  Jay’s face darkened and his eyes tightened into glacial hardness. Francis clasped Jay’s shoulder. He whirled away from Francis’ grip and strode back to the wall. He turned; his face glacial as he watched Arthur get to his feet.

  Anton’s heart sank. Whatever plan his grandfather had was in tatters. They were stuck in a prison cell with no way out. All their equipment was gone and they were at the mercy of an enemy who would show them none.

  They were well and truly fucked.

  Chapter Six

  “If everyone understood the actual rules of the game of dominion, and let’s be clear about what that is, ‘dominion is the ability to order someone to act against their own best interest and have them obey,’ - the world would be transformed beyond recognition. Not because everyone would be scrambling for dominance over each other, that would continue to happen as it does now, but because all the standard strategies and tactics of dominion rely on the ignorance of the common man for their effectiveness.” - Cornelius Crane

  * * *

  New York City, Cornelius Crane’s Citadel, September 11th, 16:35

  The feed from the Panopticon fortress strung eight six-foot-tall photos across the citadel’s main display screens.

  The system followed with strips of flashing metadata, DNA analysis, and current locations running beneath the photos. The six Ramp masters of the Mirovar force team and Arthur Slayne were in cell block A of the Panopticon fortress. A spy who was caught with them was in an adjoining cell. To the right of the main screen, a second panel displayed a live feed from the cell holding the captured ramp masters.

  Cornelius’ gaze flicked from Arthur Slayne’s photograph to the live feed from the cell, his eyes drinking in every detail. He’d just lost another four praetorians, but given the result, the sacrifice was worth it. Triumph surged through his soul like a wild horse; he reined it in with a tight grip. The Slayne family ancestral line had been a thorn in his side for nearly a thousand years. He’d wait to enjoy his victory for when the surviving Slaynes were dead and buried.

  He tapped a switch on the console in front of him, a video conference opened up between the Panopticon fortress and his citadel. General Clayton Maze’s face swung into view. A rare smile gracing his full lips. He asked confidently, “Sir?”

  “I want a full brief on the details of how they infiltrated the fortress.”

  “A team is already working on it, Sir. The Panopticon was deceived somehow. But now they have been fully identified, we’re tracking their path through recorded video. It looks like they came up from the magma cavern and into the pumping station. They were caught in the corridor just outside the pumping station with knock out gas.”

  Maze’s confidence left Cornelius with an uncomfortable itch at the back of his mind. The situation was not fully resolved. The Slaynes and the members of the Mirovar force team were still alive, and while they still lived the threat was not extinguished.

  Cornelius stared hard at Maze. “You should have separated the prisoners into different cells.”

  Maze frowned slightly, his smile disappearing. “Sir, we only have four cells on site.”

  “What about their equipment?”

  “It’s been stripped from them.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “In the guardhouse.”

  Cornelius shook his head. “Get it moved immediately off the base. Send it by nightfalcon to my citadel.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I don’t trust Arthur Slayne at all. Separate him from the rest. Wait,” he turned to the staff manning the citadel’s command and control center and commanded, “Mobilize all available forces. Yes, I know it’s daylight. Ready my command nightfalcon for immediate lift off. Send all our reserve praetorians to Fort Dix. We’ll man our shadowstars and leave immediately for the Panopticon fortress.”

  “Sir, I don’t understand. We have the Mirovar force team captured. The elder Slayne is in a cell cut off from all aid.”

  “And yet, we still don’t know how he infiltrated the fortress and made his team of saboteurs invisible to the Panopticon. I wouldn’t trust the threat Arthur Slayne represents was over even if I was standing on his cold grave. Move to red alert immediately, lock the base down. Be prepared for anything, I will be there by sixteen ten local time.”

  Maze’s eyes flicked away to a read out. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be ready for you to arrive in ninety minutes. Is there anything else?”

  Cornelius glanced along the main screen. There was Francis Mirovar, Jay Creeley, Peter Lamb, Li Wu, Chiara Romano - no, not Romano. The DNA analysis included her mother’s name. He whispered, “Morte.”

  The young Ramp master with a Red Empire heritage was a mystery to be unraveled, but she would have to wait, there was a more urgent threat to extinguish. His eyes rested on Anton Slayne, the familiar face haunting his recent visions. Cornelius stared hard into Maze’s eyes and snapped, “Execute Anton Slayne. Immediately!”

  “Yes, Sir,” Maze replied. He turned to his subordinates and ordered, “Separate Anton Slayne from the rest of the prisoners. Take him outside the main complex and shoot him. Make sure he’s dead and leave his body for the vultures.”

  A day guard squad leader assented, turned on his heels with the rest of his team and strode off to the guardhouse and the cell blocks.

  Maze glanced to his side at Commander Cormack and ordered, “Send a crew to pick up the gear at the guardhouse, send it to the hangers for transport, and initiate red alert.”

  Cornelius ended the call before the commander could give her assent. Within minutes the youngest of the Slaynes would be dead, leaving Arthur Slayne as the sole member of that line. With Cornelius’ arrival at the fortress in less than two hours, the senior Slayne would soon join his grandson in death, but not before he’d personally squeezed every piece of useful information from the elder Slayne’s mind. The Slaynes were on the verge of utter ruin.

  It was a moment to be savored.

  He grinned tightly, stepping away from the command console. There was one last thing to do before he left for the shadowstar hanger at Fort Dix. He called Chloe Armitage’s smartphone; it was time to bring every weapon at his disposal to bea
r upon his enemies.

  And Armitage was his mightiest weapon.

  * * *

  The call closed and Chloe flipped her smartphone shut.

  She rolled off her bed and began putting on her dark-gray combat fatigues. Two minutes later she emerged into James Haley’s living room and said, “We have new orders.”

  “Yes, Chloe?”

  “We need to pick up the chameleons at the warehouse, and use the new Osprey II drone to get to Fort Dix immediately. Crane has scrambled his forces. He’s stripped the citadel of praetorians, there is only a skeleton staff left there for command and control functions. He’s converging on the Panopticon fortress with everything he’s got left and we’re going with him.”

  James looked up at her from his desk. “It’s daylight, the only option you have to get from here to the warehouse is my car. Are you okay with that?”

  “I’ll have to be,” Chloe grinned dryly. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to travel in the trunk of a car.”

  James tilted his head quizzically, then shrugged his broad shoulders. “I have some thick blankets; we can make sure you’re covered. Once we are in the warehouse, there’s no direct sunlight and the drone has transparent armor for windows, so you’ll be safe to travel within it. We can make it to the hangers at Fort Dix where you can transfer to Crane’s command shadowstar drone.”

  Chloe nodded. “Excellent, it’s time to move.”

  James rose from his seat. He was already dressed in typical dark, urban-camouflage Shadowstone combat fatigues. His combat bag was already packed, in accordance with her earlier instructions to be ready for battle. He lifted it off the floor with one hand and looked at her with steady eyes.

  Chloe rested her left hand on the handle of the Red Dragon at her waist, turned and strode down the corridor to the front door. James followed a yard behind her. Less than a minute later, they were descending together within the building’s elevator toward the basement parking garage.

  The elevator pulled to a stop on the third floor. The doors swished open and a well-dressed elderly woman smelling faintly of lavender entered the elevator. She pressed the ground floor button. She studied James and Chloe for a long moment, her eyes lingering on the Red Dragon, and then nodded and said firmly, “I just wanted to acknowledge you for your service.”

  James nodded once, his brown eyes narrowing slightly.

  Chloe tilted her head, then remarked kindly, “Thank you. We’re both proud to serve.”

  The old woman looked into her eyes and said, “My husband Ben served in the Air Force, God rest his soul. Which branch do you belong with, I don’t recognize the uniforms?”

  Chloe took a step forward and nodded, “Special forces, Ma’am. We’re shipping out immediately.”

  The old woman reached out to take Chloe’s hands. “You be safe then. I know you’re the best of us.”

  Chloe took her hands and squeezed gently. “And, you too.”

  The lift door pinged. The doors swished open. The old woman glanced at them both, and said, “Good luck.”

  Chloe caught her gaze. “Luck won’t be a factor but we appreciate the thought.”

  The old woman nodded, smiled, and left the elevator, the doors closing behind her.

  The elevator began descending and James inquired, “Do we need to do anything about her?”

  Chloe arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps a little over-zealous James, she’s clearly mis-interpreting what’s going on.”

  James shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, of course.”

  Chloe sighed. The day was approaching when deception would no longer be necessary but only if she won. There were so many obstacles in her way. She would rely on persistence, adaptability, mental agility and the sharp edge of her blade to win through to victory, but in this game nothing was certain. She frowned slightly as the elevator pulled to a stop at the parking garage. If she could manage to keep the chameleons in line, they would make a difference in the coming battle.

  But would it be enough?

  She didn’t honestly know.

  * * *

  Arthur Slayne shook his head, throwing off the last traces of the knockout gas. It’d taken about six minutes since he’d woken up in the cell block. He mused, that was longer than expected, perhaps he was beginning to feel his age. He said dryly, “Well at least they haven’t killed us yet.”

  Francis stated, “A small mercy.”

  “That won’t last.” Jay snapped. “They’re probably coming to kill us now.”

  “There’s no risk of that,” Arthur declared with a sardonic smile. “They’ll want to torture us first.”

  “Oh, joy.” Jay remarked derisively.

  Arthur arched his back, and rubbed his neck. “I think I got a cricked neck from the floor.”

  Jay swore profusely.

  Arthur raised his eyebrows and stated, “Well, that’s just anatomically impossible. Clearly you’re upset.”

  “Ya, think?”

  Arthur pursed his lips for a moment, stroking his chin, his thumb an inch away from an implant beneath the base of his jaw. He stated, “One thing this place isn’t.”

  Jay stared at him.

  Li ended the silence. “And what’s that?”

  “A Faraday cage,” Arthur answered, tapping the base of his jaw beneath his right ear three times. “Now get ready, in another minute life is going to get very interesting.”

  Peter looked up from where he sat propped up against a wall. “Define interesting.”

  Arthur gave a faint nod toward the camera ball in the ceiling, unfurled all his fingers in front of his chest, and puffed lightly through his pursed lips.

  Peter grinned.

  Arthur’s eyelids drooped slightly. The forces unleashed were unpredictable and there were scenarios where all hell would break loose. But there were no more choices to be made. The team was committed, the only pathway forward was to victory or death. If what he’d set in motion got completely out of control they would have to move quickly to survive. There were no more tricks up his sleeve.

  This was the last big rabbit he could pull out of his hat. At best, he only had a couple of small ones left hopping around in there.

  * * *

  Ground drone #500 flicked from standby to active.

  An internal clock registered that the drone had arrived in place with its payload of two-hundred pounds of shaped mining charges nearly five hours earlier. There were another four hundred and ninety-nine drones. Together they carried one hundred thousand pounds of advanced shaped rock-cutting explosives. They were packed together like a train along a jagged line against the western wall of the underground river.

  The drone networked to all the other drones. A pair of cameras opened up on the drone, rising three inches above the main body. A secondary system that managed the shaped demolition charges booted into life. It ran through a series of diagnostics and halted at ninety-seven percent complete. All of the other drones were in the green, only #500 sported an orange flashing light on its back. A failsafe abort timer began ticking seconds down from five to four to three …

  #500 was not ready. The other drones would discharge their explosives in three seconds time. They would be obliterated fulfilling their essential function while #500 would be left behind.

  The seconds stretched out.

  #500 pulled its cameras back beneath the shielding on its exoskeleton.

  The shaped rock-cutting charges of the other drones fired as one.

  The rock beneath #500 reared up, throwing the drone through the shuddering water and against the ceiling of the river’s channel. #500 fell back through the surging water. It raised its cameras again, but the right one failed, it’s casing too damaged to move. The left camera rose. The water was gray with rock, metal, and debris, and was rushing hard to the left.

  #500 activated its locomotors, wheels spun freely on the left, the tracks shattered and swept away by the roiling currents. On the right, something was jammed, and the drone shutdown the e
ngine to avoid burning it out.

  The water carried #500 along, the drone helpless to maneuver, it’s one remaining camera recording whatever passed before it. Gray rock scraped along its left-side, then it was flying through the air into an enormous cavern. Its camera swiveled, mapping the space. The enormous chamber was over three miles long. Two giant metallic structures hung down from the ceiling like gravity defying metal monoliths. Metadata reported that the nearest structure was a hundred-megawatt geothermal power station named Kraken-1.

  A river of slowly moving magma snaked its way across the cavern floor beneath Kraken-1 to a second power station two miles away.

  #500 fell, striking the rocky floor, sliding and spinning across it. Its tough exoskeleton standing up to the harsh treatment. The drone came to a halt next to the river of glowing liquid rock, facing back toward the underground river. The stone wall of the cavern had come apart. The river was violently changing course, a wall of water smashing through a gaping slash in the rock wall over a hundred yards across and thirty feet high.

  Water sluiced and foamed around #500’s jammed tracks and spinning wheel cogs, exploding into steam as it touched the magma a couple of yards behind the machine. A dozen systems were already offline, #500 was failing, the raised camera quivering on over-stretched hydraulics. The wall of water reached the drone, lifting it off the stone floor of the chamber and carrying it over the magma river.

  The last thing #500 registered through its surviving camera before system failure swept everything away, was white super-heated steam fountaining upward around the base of the nearest power station.

  * * *

  Li cocked her head and lifted her right hand.

  A frown creased her forehead. “Did you feel that?”

  “Feel what,” Peter asked. He glanced across at Arthur, who returned his glance with a brief knowing smile, before relaxing his expression into impassivity.