A Subtle Agency

by Graeme Rodaughan

  He looked for Gang, finding him on the second mezzanine level, the level was still accessible by stairs from the floor. The stairs had survived the partial destruction of the first mezzanine level when the diesel generator had exploded.

  ‘Gang, I’m done,’ Anton called out, he only had to raise his voice a little to be heard across the warehouse.

  ‘Excellent; meet me at the front doors.’

  ‘Sure,’ Anton said, jogging along the top of the maze toward the front of the warehouse. In moments, he arrived, jumping down to the ground below. Gang showed up a few seconds later with two of the Milkor MGLs, the ones with a splash of red paint across their thick barrel.

  Anton felt his excitement rise as he remembered Gang’s words.

  “The red ones carry a standard high-explosive round with a shaped charge that is best against a vehicle, and can also be used as an anti-personal weapon versus humans or vampires.”

  ‘You need my help with one of these?’ Anton asked excitedly.

  Gang tilted his head quizzically, ‘those men out there are someone’s son, if they die today at our hand, it’s not a cause for excitement.’

  What?

  Anton blinked, ‘are you sure of that? Look at the choices they have made; as bad as or worse than those triad thugs that attacked the Noodle House.’

  Gang frowned, ‘I would be happier if you were calmer. The ideal is to find a center of peace in the midst of combat.’

  Peace?

  A tight ball of fury ignited in the depths of Anton’s soul.

  Anton pointed fiercely past the gates at the front of the warehouse, ‘these people covered up the torture and murder of my mother and the abduction of my father to some hellish fate. They are willing accessories to those crimes and I will not let them go unpunished.’

  Gang stroked his chin and wagged his finger in Anton’s face, ‘shortly after I first met you we spoke briefly about vengeance and justice, and I see now that nothing has changed.’

  Anton frowned, his eyes narrowing.

  Gang stepped in, clapped him on both shoulders and pulled him close, ‘Anton, there is no room for a personal vendetta on this journey. You must let this anger and hatred go.’

  ‘A great wrong has been done to my family. I have every right to feel the way I do. I promise you, I will not stop until I have destroyed Chloe Armitage, Shadowstone, and the Vampire Dominion.’

  Gang sighed, ‘perhaps it would be best if you were not here.’

  Anton shrugged off Gang’s hands, stepping back, his face registering shock, ‘you would send me away?’

  ‘For your own sake - yes.’

  Anton felt his anger suddenly give way to sadness. Gang and Li were the closest things to a family that he had now, he would rather die than lose them.

  Working past a knot in his throat, Anton said, ‘why would you send me away?’

  ‘Anton, you are a good man, perhaps a very good man with a great capacity for love and courage, but right now, your life is on a moral knife-edge and you could either step into the light or fall into darkness.’

  Gang waved at the warehouse, ‘why are we here today? Why is Shadowstone assembled for war out there in broad daylight? It’s unheard of. The vampires are coming tonight, and so are the Order; there has not been a major battle in the last twenty years. What’s different Anton? It’s you, it’s your presence here, the hidden Slayne, perhaps the last Slayne. You had a direct male line ancestor that lived in the time of Hakron the Scribe, who was part of the original post-Ahknaton Order of Thoth. That man was entrusted with the protection of the Papyrus of Hakron the Scribe, and it remained in the safe keeping of your family up until a few short weeks ago. Life is a strange mix of fate and choice, and I think that the next few hours will be more about you and your choices than about anyone else.’

  Anton felt a poignant sadness, ‘you truly believe that my choices matter that much?’

  Gang nodded and said with quiet certainty, ‘more than you can understand.’

  He has such faith in me.

  ‘What do you need from me?’ Anton said quietly.

  ‘Your help.’

  ‘You’ve got that anytime you want it.’

  Gang pointed to where the rails of the cranes passed through holes in the front of the warehouse, ‘the maintenance walkway up there will give you a sight on the Shadowstone positions in the carpark. We need to thin these guys down before night falls, or else, we will have all of them and the vampires to fight at the same time. We need to take out their helicopters, they are a key asset for them, and so that’s what we will use the MGLs for.’

  Gang gave one of the MGLs to Anton, showing him how to operate the simple weapon.

  ‘Now you take the right hand side, and I will take the left. Watch my angles, I will show you before I fire. Fire the first three rounds only, that will take a second, then immediately pull right back to our first defensive position, they are bound to fire back at you. We have the element of surprise, but that is only good for the first shot, Li will cover our rear at the dock.’

  ‘Will do,’ Anton said, following Gang back to the mezzanine stairs. Ascending to the top level, they were able to access the maintenance walkways that spanned the roof of the warehouse. As Anton took up position on the walkway next to the right side crane rail at the front of the warehouse, he spotted Li as she took up a position on the maintenance walkway at the river end. She carried a large sniper rifle, two of the MP7 submachine guns holstered at her hips, and the Green Dragon in its scabbard over her shoulder.

  I want to be at her side, but I have my job and she has hers.

  Anton glanced across at Gang, who was sliding backward on his belly from the gap in the warehouse wall. He stood up, signaling Anton with a thumbs up, and pointed to his MGL, which he held at an angle up from the horizontal.

  Anton mimicked his position and readied himself to Ramp. He would have to move forward, sight the target, pull the trigger, and once the first three rounds had fired, pull back off the maintenance walkway to the top of the maze below. He watched as Gang held up his right hand, counting down the seconds with his fingers, first holding up five, then four, three, two.

  Anton ramped, watching Gang move in slow motion as he held up his last finger, then Gang ramped, flashing forward. Anton moved a fraction of a second later. He came to a halt level with the gap in the wall of the warehouse, in front of him were two of the Nightfalcon helicopters the one on his side was spooling up, its rotors spinning faster and faster. In his peripheral vision, he saw a grenade shoot out from Gang’s position toward the other helicopter, the noise of the shot reaching him a moment after he saw it. He raised his MGL to the same angle as Gang had shown him, lined it up on the helicopter and pulled the trigger. The grenade sailed away from him with a solid “choof” sound, the revolver like barrels of the MGL began turning and second and third grenades followed the first.

  Gang’s words rang in his mind.

  “Then immediately pull right back to our first defensive position.”

  Anton waited, he wanted to make sure that the target had been hit. The helicopter to the left was struck by the first of Gang’s grenades and went up in a huge fireball as its fuel tank exploded, the second and third grenades bracketed the exploding helicopter, adding to the mayhem amongst the men nearby. He saw the first of his grenades just miss the top of the helicopter, and then the second and third followed to land harmlessly along the edge of the carpark.

  What the hell?

  Anton watched as more than a dozen men responded immediately to the threat, swinging their weapons toward him and the other walkway. Gang had already disappeared back into the warehouse. He saw the first of the muzzle flashes from their assault rifles as he lowered his weapon slightly, pulling the trigger of the MGL, it fired a fourth grenade toward the remaining Nightfalcon. A bullet whizzed past his head and a dozen more shattered the stone near his shoulder, sending splinters into the left side of his face as he leaped back along the walkw
ay and out of the line of fire. Behind him, he heard another large explosion out in the carpark.

  ‘Got it!’ He exulted.

  Anton felt a trickling wetness on his face, wiping it as he moved to get to the first defensive position, his hand came away covered in blood. He blinked, both his eyes were still okay.

  He laughed, ‘hell, I got worse on the Hockey rink.’

  * * *

  James was lighting a cigarette when he saw the first of the grenades loop out of the front of the warehouse, crashing into the Blue-5 helicopter which immediately exploded, a wave of heat and pressure blowing over the men nearest the Nightfalcon.

  He turned, more grenades flew at the Red-1 helicopter which was preparing to take off for a low-level reconnaissance run around the area. They all passed over the spinning rotors, exploding harmlessly along the car park’s fence line. His men returned fire and a swarm of 5.56mm rounds reached toward the two gaps fifteen yards up the face of the warehouse. The man who had destroyed the Blue-5 Nightfalcon had already disappeared. The second man fired a fourth grenade that looped directly at the Red-1 Nightfalcon. James’ heart sank as he watched it smash into the front of the helicopter which promptly exploded in a bright ball of flame. He had to turn, shielding his eyes, when he looked back at the warehouse, the second man had vanished.

  A name rushed into his mind.

  Anton Slayne - alias Smith - you’re a dead man.

  ‘Wesson, get the Green-4 helicopter airborne, get your team back here, and move the RHIB back fifty yards.’

  ‘Already happening, Sir,’ Louise said, sprinting over to stand next to him.

  ‘Damn MGLs,’ James growled with disgust.

  ‘If they have those, they could have anything.’

  ‘Teams report,’ James growled into his comm links.

  A rapid succession of reports flowed in. There were four dead aircrews; pilots and co-pilots. Red-1 had lost two men to flying debris from the helicopter explosion, and another two men were sufficiently wounded to be unable to participate further in any combat. The Blue-5 team had operatives closer to their Nightfalcon, as it had been stationary. They had lost six men from the three grenades and another two wounded and out of action. That left twenty operatives from the two spectrum teams original strength of thirty two men.

  ‘Wesson, reform the teams into five squads of four, position the wounded back here and give them some water.’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Louise said, rushing to comply, issuing directives through her headset.

  At the other end of the dock, the Green-4 Nightfalcon completed spooling up, taking off, it veered violently away from the warehouse. It bristled with guns as the operatives on board trained their weapons on the open gates at the river end of the warehouse. Half a minute later the helicopter had parked in a deserted Bedford Street, beyond the range of the MGLs. The Green-4 operatives quickly streamed from the Nightfalcon and it took to the air once more. In moments, it had risen to a position six hundred yards above the ground and the same distance back from the front of the warehouse.

  The Green-4 operatives marshaled before her, Louise made three squads of four men and one squad of two that she assigned to herself. She assigned the other three squads to join the main Shadowstone force with James Haley.

  ‘The men are ready,’ Louise said.

  ‘Great. I want the RHIB to move into a position where it can fire on anyone coming out of the rear of the warehouse. It’s got a .50 cal, and a belt fed MGL, that should be able to supply enough firepower to block any escape. Take your squad of two and block the right side entrance, the hole in the wall where the generator was, and make sure that no one escapes from that side.’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ Louise said, turning away she gave directions to the Indigo-6 squad manning the RHIB. Her two-man squad followed her, checking their weapons as they jogged after her.

  James addressed his men, ‘you know our orders. We have to hold these bastards here until the damn cavalry arrives.’

  The men grumbled and swore.

  ‘I know exactly how you feel. Our standing orders are that we do not fire unless fired upon. Well, we have well and truly been fired upon, and I’m not giving these rat bastards another chance to kill us. Here’s what we are going to do. We’re going to use the remaining Nightfalcon to blow the front doors off with Hellfire missiles and then take a position over the river. Then all of us are going in via the front door. We will be the hammer and the RHIB and the Nightfalcon will be the anvil. We will go in there and kill them or push them out onto the dock where the RHIB and the Nightfalcon will take them apart. Now there are thirty three of us going in, and only three of them. If they don’t surrender, kill them. If they do surrender - kill them. In any event - just kill them!’

  The men shouted, ‘yes, Sir!’

  The men moved out as one, dispersing across the car park, ready to move forward toward the warehouse without making a target of themselves.

  James put his laptop away, and picked up his assault rifle; he had swapped his dark gray suit jacket for a bullet proof vest. He wore combat webbing to carry extra magazines and grenades for the M203 launcher on his rifle. He cocked the assault rifle and loaded a grenade. He opened his comm link to the Nightfalcon, ordering it to destroy the front gates of the warehouse.

  The helicopter barely moved, only enough to tilt its nose toward the giant steel doors on the front of the warehouse. Two seconds later a pair of Hellfire III missiles launched from their pylons to the left and right of the helicopter’s cockpit. They streaked toward the steel doors, detonating with a pair of thunderous explosions and a white thermobaric glare.

  The heavy steel doors evaporated, the crane gantries above the gates disappearing into a cloud of flying steel fragments.

  Before the smoke and dust could begin to clear, the heavy machine guns under the nose of the Nightfalcon opened up, spraying the interior of the warehouse with a sustained barrage of .50 caliber rounds. After ten seconds and a thousand rounds, the firing stopped, the helicopter veered away to take up a new position over the Mystic River.

  ‘Go! Go! Go!’ James shouted, sprinting with the assembled operatives toward the cavernous openings in the front of the warehouse.

  In less than ten seconds they were all through the entrance.

  * * *

  The giant hammering of the Nightfalcon’s machine guns abruptly stopped, silence rushing in to fill the vacuum.

  Anton was lying prone on top of the maze wall about fifty yards back from the front of the warehouse. He lifted his head, just enough to sight the billowing smoke and dust that obscured the smashed entrance. He realized that the great steel doors must have been vaporized by missiles as the late afternoon sun backlit the swirling haze that was already beginning to settle. The play of sunlight, smoke, stone dust and the emerging torn structures of the warehouse gates and tangled crane gantries provided a setting that struck him as eerily surreal.

  The haze suddenly eddied, swirling as men clad in black body armor, carrying assault rifles, streamed over the rubble and into the warehouse. They came in pairs, their heads in combat helmets swiveling this way and that as they looked for targets. They held their rifles high, red-dot laser sights on top of the guns tracking their lines of sight. He quickly wriggled backward, hugging the cold metal of the container, the Shadowstone operatives disappeared from view, obscured by the maze wall.

  Anton glanced across at Gang, who held a similar position beneath the crane rail on the other side of the warehouse. Above and behind him, he saw that Li had left the rear of the warehouse and was lying prone on the uppermost mezzanine level near the maintenance access walkways. She had her smartphone in her hand, working it intently.

  Suddenly six grappling hooks trailing solid black lines appeared over the maze wall thirty yards directly in front of Anton. Another set of grappling hooks appeared on Gang’s side of the warehouse. The lines immediately went taut as the men below began scaling them. In a couple of seconds, they would be up on the
maze wall with Anton and Gang.

  They were supposed to go through the maze, not over it.

  Anton rose to one knee, aiming the MGL at the top of the container where most of the lines were. As the first of the black helmets appeared he pulled the trigger, the grenade flew toward them where it exploded, ripping open the top of the steel container like it was made of tinfoil and slashing through the black lines. The operatives spotted the shot and ducked away, he immediately pointed the weapon into the space where the black lines ran down, firing his last grenade which disappeared below the edge of the maze wall before exploding in a bright glare.

  Someone screamed for a moment and then fell silent.

  He heard more choofs of launching grenades, he saw Gang fire a volley of them across the front line of the maze, drop his empty MGL and then run back about twenty yards.

  Anton ramped, running back across the maze toward the middle of the warehouse as Gang’s grenades exploded and more screams and shouts emanated from the ranks of the operatives along the front of the warehouse.

  Gang’s grenades should drive those guys forward and deeper into the maze.

  The warehouse fell silent, Anton straining to hear and see anything moving in front of him.

  They’re not moving.

  He placed the empty MGL at his feet, unslung the automatic shotgun, training it on the area where he expected the operatives would emerge.

  Grappling hooks sailed for a second time over the container walls near Gang, they were followed by more hooks and lines forty yards in front of Anton. The black lines went taught, but no black helmets appeared. Instead, a dozen slim grenades flew over the maze wall, and wherever they landed they stuck as if glued to the metal containers. One landed a yard in front of where Gang was standing, he immediately ramped, blurring backward more than a dozen yards.

  Anton reflexively turned his head away.

  All the grenades exploded in blinding glares and thunderous reports, even though he had looked away, Anton found himself dazzled as gray spots flew before his eyes, and his ears rang as agonizing pain shot through his skull.