Lygalia ran a final check of the team’s weapons before disembarking. Helmet comms—all functioning. They sealed up their special ops “cool suits” which should keep them hidden from most scanning devices. With everything good to go, they boarded the speeder. Peex would drive. Behind him sat Ryle, then Bao, Lygalia, and Flaro at the rear.
The Arrow’s rear loading lamp lowered. Before they descended, Bao leaned in to Ryle’s ear. “I thought Jyssa was meeting us. Should we try to contact her? She shouldn’t be out here by herself.”
“Too risky. Besides, I have a feeling she’ll find us.”
The craft exited the ship and sped along a natural hill path. It had been a few years since Ryle was last here on the ground, and the landscape had changed dramatically since the Archon stepped up its policy of ruining the natural beauty of every place it took root. Even the desert-friendly plants seemed to have withered, leaving behind scraggly, dead roots scattered over the hills. Within minutes, the speeder reached the city outskirts. Rocky natural bridges extended over a formerly flowing river, but the riverbed was now dry and spotted with scant vegetation.
They halted under one of the bridges and hopped off the speeder. Using their rifles’ laser cutter function, Bao and Peex carved open a hole in the ground large enough to hide the speeder for the time being. They re-used the soil to cover it.
“We’re in the vicinity of one possible bunker for Target Z,” said Ryle. “Rik, do you pick up anything?”
Flaro, in charge of scanning, held up his sensor. “Not much in the hills. Just some wildlife.”
“Let me try,” said Lygalia. “Since we are wizard hunting.”
Ryle nodded the go ahead.
She took off her helmet and hummed a steady note. From her throat through her lips emerged a haunting but beautiful tune. After a minute, her song trailed off to silence. “He’s not here.”
“How do you know?” asked Peex.
Bao bumped Peex’s elbow. “He’s not here.”
“But—” started Peex.
“Into the city,” said Ryle. Since the natural bridges were more visible and guarded, Ryle led them down the riverbank to cross on dry land. They made their way across without incident and hustled through a thicket of trees covered with dead leaves or none at all. They emerged and Ryle led the way across transit tracks toward a destroyed factory. The metallic smell of industry—the distinctive combination of heat, chemicals, and sulfur—seeped into Ryle’s nostrils. Everywhere the Archon thrived it couldn’t help but transform cities into heartless producers of war hardware. Ryle had sniffed this scent many times, though the most horrid odor was certainly the Archonage itself. He didn’t miss that place.
After a few uneventful minutes of moving forward, the team spotted an Archon checkpoint. Ryle halted them behind a fallen slab of concrete the size of a house, the piece apparently came from the bombed-out building they just passed two minutes earlier. A squad of twelve troops and two heavily-armored hovertanks guarded an entrance into the city.
“No need to try that way,” whispered Ryle.
“Agreed,” said Bao.
Flaro’s scanner screen flickered. “There’s a tunnel two hundred yards east through a drainage exit. Should at least get us past this.”
“Any troops in that area?” said Ryle.
“Uh...not as many,” said Flaro, smacking the sensor as it was flickering in and out. “This damn thing.”
“It’s Archon interference,” said Bao.
“To the tunnel,” said Ryle.
The team snuck around a thicker patch of trees, jogged down an alley, climbed over garbage dumpsters, and passed by a damaged building with a semi-circular curved roof.
“This was a theatre,” said Lygalia, wincing at the sight of its dilapidation.
The team froze as two guards walked out of the theatre straight toward them. The guards, not expecting to encounter an elite forces squad from Chrysolite, did not at first recognize Ryle’s team but woke up and raised their guns in a threatening stance.
Lygalia yanked out her short staff and sang a low-sounding tune, flinging the guards backward and slamming them up against the concrete wall, knocking them out. “That’s for desecrating art.”
“Grab their guns and comms,” said Ryle.
They found the entrance to the tunnel, a drainage ditch on the street’s edge beside a brick building in the business district. Bao and Peex quietly dismantled the cover and removed it. One by one, they descended a ladder underground and splashed into dark water. The tunnel water, reaching to their ankles, was shallow enough for the team to advance through without getting too soaked. Encountering no opposition, they sloshed through quickly.
“Smells as bad as you down here, Peex,” said Lygalia.
Ryle glanced at her. She does have a sense of humor. They reached a T in the tunnel with an exit overhead and Ryle signaled stop. “Bao, use the Archon comm and call in code 4K7.”
“4K7?” repeated Bao as he activated one of the captured comms.
“I’ve picked up a code or two in my past visits. It will signal a tank over this location.”
“Uh, Colonel,” said Peex. “You want them to send a tank after us?”
“It’ll stop over the exit, and then we’ll exploit the emergency opening on its underbelly,” said Ryle.
“Not a bad idea, boss,” said Bao, bringing the comm up to his mouth. “Everyone ready before I do this?” he said, staring especially at Peex.
Peex held his rifle up and ready.
“Here goes nothin’,” said Bao. He pressed the speak button.
* * *
The commandeered Archon hovertank moved swiftly through the inner city streets of Kudra. The five team members crammed inside the machine designed for a maximum of three.
“This thing steers smoother than I expected,” said Peex at the controls.
Various lights flashed incessantly on the main dash. Bao pointed at them. “Is that normal?”
“When a tank is stolen, yes,” said Ryle. “Those are attempts to ask us why we’ve gone off course.”
“Know any more codes?” asked Bao.
“Maybe one more,” said Ryle. He pressed the tank’s comm and said in a muffled voice, “Situation 652.” He shut it off. “We’re responding to a rebel situation in Zone 652.”
“Until they figure out we’re the rebels,” said Bao.
Eight minutes later, Peex brought them to a stop. “We’re near Government Center. Big checkpoints ahead.” Scanners showed dozens of Archon troops blocking a path to the thirty-story capitol building and its adjoining chambers for the Assembly—which had not been used in years due to the Archon’s occupation. A taller building, about forty stories, stood close to the capitol. The entire capitol building, from top to bottom, was surrounded by a thin metal scaffolding which acted as a local shield generator. Flaro’s sensors confirmed this was not just an ordinary shield, but it was infused with radiation—a RadShield—instantly killing anyone who got close. The Archon needed to protect their high-prized officer.
While Flaro monitored the exterior for approaching troops, Peex concentrated on intercepting comm transmissions. They put together enough bits and pieces to imply Zermal was in the building.
Lygalia lightly tapped her staff on the tank’s interior and listened intently for anything unusual. She didn’t tap it too hard for fear of herself being detected. While the rest of the team operated scanners, she meditated, focusing on musical vibrations. “He’s here,” she finally said.
“Are you certain?” said Ryle.
“No question. There is a definite musical stink in the air,” she said.
Ryle considered his next move. Times like this made him immensely grateful Lygalia was with them. Maybe Turj actually knew what he was doing when he set up the team.
Peex decrypted transmissions from two days prior. “Ryle, you need to hear this.”
They played the transmission which was garbled but one faint word was clear:
&
nbsp; “Gelibor.”
Chapter 16
Someone ripped the blindfold off Mitchett. He blinked against a blinding light. Hands bound behind him, he rolled up and sat against the wall of an unfamiliar room.
Ouch. Everything ached. He had been tossed around so much inside various vehicles the soldiers didn’t even need to beat him. His left ankle especially throbbed from landing on the ground after the imploding tank. The ankle was swollen, likely twisted. Even the exposed metal plates on his forearms got scuffed up. He felt light all over—probably because his armor and gear had been stripped from him. His sweat-stained undergarments were his only clothing.
An irritatingly high-pitched voice squawked at him. “So, what is an army grunt like you doing on Topaz?”
“Kicking your asses,” said Mitchett. Good, let them think I’m just an army grunt.
“But we know that’s not what you are, Commander Mitchett,” said the voice.
Great.
Thick legs stood before him. An overweight uniformed man blocked the blinding light and stared down at Mitchett, his face obscured by shadows. “What would such a highly trained elite soldier be doing all by himself in Laylon?”
Mitchett flinched at the words “all by himself.”
“Yes, your team is dead. Dead. Each one. What a pity such a highly trained squad could be slaughtered so easily.”
Mitchett pulled himself together. “Let’s get one thing straight. Your asinine interrogation tactics won’t work on me.”
“Ohhh, trained in the art of resisting torture? Good for you. Good for you. You will need it.”
Mitchett squinted at the man’s face: bushy eyebrows, badly-combed brown hair, and bushy mustache. The man’s identity became clear. Oh, what an honor. “I would think a general would be more honorable than to use torture against enemy officers.”
The general laughed with his notorious annoying chortle. “Honorable, hmm?” He kept laughing. This was General Heedin, the acting governor of Topaz, certainly thrilled at his catch of a Chrysolite Special Forces Commander. Heedin was known for sucking up to Aqtal and anyone else who could advance his career. He was a large man—large and in charge. “Your fleet has been smashed, Commander. Did you think your absurd scheme to liberate both Topaz and Onyx would actually work?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m just here on a scouting mission.”
“Indeed. Indeed. And you’ve been scouting how to hijack our rocket systems?”
“Actually, to correct your error, General, you guys hijacked Topaz’s rocket system. Or have all your responsibilities as governor hijacked your ability to remember details?”
Heedin ignored the retort and paced the room. A long metal rod, strapped to Heedin’s belt and used to keep prisoners in line, kept bouncing off his left thigh as he paced.
Mitchett shifted his body to take pressure off his bruised left shoulder. His eyes adjusted to the room’s natural light in contrast to the bright light from above. A window high above, behind Heedin, showed it was still dark outside. No, not a window—just a hole blasted in the brick wall by cannon fire. Too high to jump to, and of course his anti-grav boots were long gone. Mitchett turned the questions on Heedin. “And where do you guys get off copying all our tech? The shields? The implosion bombs? Can’t you come up with anything original? I thought your scientists were creative, but hey, I’m wrong a lot.” He chuckled.
Heedin stopped and glared. “You will not be laughing when you are sent to Dr. Zermal’s re-education camp! If you will not cooperate with me, he has ways of forcing cooperation. Forcing.”
Mitchett kept a straight face. I sure hope Ryle succeeds and quick. “Zermal is just another one of Aqtal’s dogs, like you. Why don’t you act like a real man and help the planets instead of trashing them.”
Heedin pulled his metal rod off his belt and tapped it on his hand. “Before I send you to Zermal, I have someone here who possesses other forms of persuasion. Other forms.” From a shadowy corner of the room came the metallic grinding screech of a door sliding open.
A tall hooded figure in a dark robe appeared in the doorway and glided into the room like a wraith, bearing an iron staff capped with a skull. Against the bright light and shadows, Mitchett strained to discern the color of the wizard’s robe: purple. This creature belonged to the most advanced and wicked order of Aqtal’s Qesem.
“Greetings, Commander,” said the wizard. The deep, raspy voice wafted toward Mitchett like smoke.
Mitchett sniffed the nauseating stench of the wizard’s breath. “Yeah, I’ve smelled your kind before. As I recall, he died fighting for your great cause, whatever that is.”
The Qesem’s hood concealed any facial reaction. “Yes, he ceased but not because of you. When you first met him you were quite helpless, much as you are now.”
“I never got that one’s name. Do you have one?”
“They call me Farash, which means, ‘Bringer of Despair’.”
“A pleasure,” Mitchett said as he silently gulped. The seriousness of his predicament and the terror emanating from this dark being was beginning to rattle him. The Qesem’s staff suddenly struck the wall, startling Mitchett so that his hands chaffed against his restraints. A sharp reverberation shook the room. A dreadful moaning noise seeped out of the wizard’s mouth and engulfed Mitchett in a haze of darkness. Qusam had said to shut off your mind as best as you can should this ever happen. It was happening.
“Tell me what you know about the Gelibors,” said the Qesem.
Chapter 17
Bao and Lygalia grabbed their rifles at the sound of “Gelibor” on the Archon’s recording.
Allaying his team’s fears, Ryle said, “It’s not referring to us. I’m positive.”
“Then who? Rez?” said Bao.
“Doubtful,” said Ryle.
“Oh no, not Jyssa?” asked Bao.
“I hope not,” said Ryle. “Quan, you said this was from a day or two ago, right?”
“Right,” said Peex.
To Ryle, the truth was obvious. Jez must have been here recently. Would he have met with Zermal? Why? Could he still be here now? Ryle’s blood boiled the longer this wore on without resolution. His next mission would be Jez—no matter what. His mind spun as to how to share with the others what he was thinking, so he just said it. “It’s probably referring to...Jez.”
“Jez Gelibor?” said Lygalia.
Ryle nodded.
“You dodged my earlier question about him,” said Bao. “So, spill it.”
“As soon as this operation is over, I’ll explain what I know. I promise,” said Ryle.
Lygalia wouldn’t have it. “If your other brother is involved somehow here, we need to know.”
Her intense blue eyes caught Ryle off guard, but she was right. “I’m sorry, guys. It’s just...hard to believe.”
“Hard to believe what?” said Lygalia.
“Evidence points to Jez being the mole helping the Archon,” said Ryle.
Bao’s mouth hung open, speechless.
“How can that be?” said Lygalia. “He’s just a palace security guard.”
“Nobody wants to know the answer more than I do,” said Ryle. “I found out right before the mission and I am dying to investigate it more. But we need to finish this first.”
“Can’t disagree with that,” said Bao.
“My strong hunch is if he was here, he’s long gone anyway,” said Ryle.
Lygalia didn’t speak but eyed Ryle with suspicion. Why shouldn’t she? Practically his whole family turned up as traitors, one by one.
“We’re with ya, Colonel,” said Peex. “Whatever’s going on with Jez, we’ll figure it out and make those Archon bastards pay for it.”
“Thanks, Quan,” said Ryle. “Now, let’s figure out a way into that building.”
* * *
Quietly exiting the tank, which they parked in a narrow alley between a pub and a market, the team moved toward their positions. Flaro located the source of the RadShield. It was
controlled from inside the capitol building as expected, but external power tubes ran from the rear of the building into a courtyard and then underground. Bao and Peex would knock out the tubes, briefly cutting power to the shield until the backup system kicked on.
Ryle and Lygalia would infiltrate to the top of the scraper next to the capitol, the old commerce and banking building, which was not shielded and mostly abandoned. Ryle figured they could make their way to the top quickly. With the pause in the shield’s power, they would leap from that building and leg boost into the capitol. They had to make their move soon while Zermal’s presence was still confirmed. Through more scanning and Lygalia’s singing, Ryle felt confident Zermal was occupying the head of state’s office on the thirtieth floor. Regarding Zermal’s magical abilities, most reports were that he gave up direct “wizarding” years ago, but no one knew for certain and his abilities were unclear. Ryle and Lygalia both carried upgraded C-Wires, which could coil around and immobilize practically anyone or anything save Aqtal himself.
Whether Zermal was captured or killed, Peex could bring in the Arrow remotely as long as Ryle or Bao approved it by voice-command. Peex would punch in coordinates and the ship could meet them with near exact precision—assuming nothing blew it out of the sky first. Its stealth abilities should prevent that.
Flaro, crack shot with a sniper rifle, climbed up a bombed-out apartment high-rise and found a spot on a balcony with a perfect view of the area. He stood by for split-second assistance and to give reports of enemy movement.
Ryle decided to comm Jyssa. His first attempt—no answer. His heart sank a little as he feared for her safety, and they could certainly use another hand here. But his team had been trying hard to stay hidden so he wasn’t too surprised she hadn’t found them yet. After a few more call attempts, he gave up. Ryle secured his helmet, powered up his rifle, and addressed his team via headset: “Go time.”
He and Lygalia snuck around the back of the commerce building and boosted up to a third floor window ledge. Any higher risked being seen. Ryle peered inside. All clear. With his rifle’s laser cutter, he sliced a circle in the glass. He suctioned the piece and set it inside. They were in.
The Topaz Operation Page 7