A Subtle Agency

by Graeme Rodaughan

  Staggering backward, he stumbled over the MGL and slipped off the maze wall. As he fell, he managed to reach out wildly with his left hand, grabbing a vertical metal rail along the side of the top container. He slid down, coming to a halt with his arm outstretched above him, and his feet dangling inches above the webbed network of a trip wire for one of his own claymore mines. His eyesight was beginning to return as he looked up to see his MGL teetering on the top edge of the container above him.

  Gunfire erupted in the warehouse; there were staccato three round bursts from the assault rifles, interspersed by the high-speed rips of Gang’s MP7s.

  They’re on the maze wall! I have to get back up and help Gang and Li.

  Anton swung backward to get some momentum and then launched himself upward as a stream of rifle fire burst through the air above the container, a stray bullet hit the MGL, knocking it flying over the edge. Anton kept swinging upward, letting go as the MGL passed him on the way down to the concrete floor of the warehouse and the waiting web of tripwires for the claymore mine.

  His maneuver threw him a yard over the top edge of the container, he rolled as he landed, springing to his feet, already ramped, he ran directly toward six Shadowstone operatives five yards away on the wall.

  The three operatives at the front all began firing at the same time, Anton leaped into the air, a massive ten feet up and over the flying bullets and their heads. He pulled the trigger of the automatic shotgun which answered the rifles with a rapid fuselage of heavy shot that knocked one of the operatives off the maze wall and into the space that the MGL had fallen into. The man was still flailing in midair when the claymore mine fired after being tripped by the MGL that had fallen seconds before, and the man disappeared in a hail of lead and gray smoke.

  Other rounds from the shotgun struck another two of the operatives who were blown back by the force of the hits, slipping over the edge of the wall.

  Twisting in the air, Anton landed on his feet facing the three remaining operatives who were sliding to a halt and spinning around to follow him. The one on the right allowed himself to fall backward and twist around, his gun was the first to bear on Anton.

  Anton dodged left as a three round burst ripped past his right arm, he fired his shotgun, a pair of rounds struck the front of the operative’s tactical helmet and he dropped immediately, the remains of his visor covered in blood.

  Still moving forward Anton came abreast of the remaining two operatives who had both stepped backward to give themselves room to bring their rifles up. Anton ran into them ramped, clubbing one in the side of the neck with the butt of his shotgun, the man silently falling backward, disappearing over the edge of the maze wall.

  The last operative turned, lashing at Anton with his own rifle butt. Anton leaned backward, the rifle swung past over his face. As Anton sprang back erect, he swung his shotgun butt up, catching the man underneath his chin. The force of the blow lifted the operative clear off the container, throwing him off the maze wall.

  Anton’s head swiveled around; on the other side of the warehouse, he could see Gang reloading his MP7s, in front of him two black-clad bodies lay limply on the maze walls.

  There were no more operatives on top of the maze walls.

  Suddenly the front quarter of the warehouse exploded in multi-colored flashes, and silver sparkles; loud whistles erupted as rockets launched and streamed down and across the warehouse from row upon row of boxes and cylinders strapped to the maintenance walkways. The warehouse became a crazed Fourth of July as light and sound battered the Shadowstone operatives in the front quarter.

  Anton took advantage of the momentary chaos to back deeper into the warehouse and move to the right. He saw Gang, having reloaded his MP7s, do the same. He looked around for Li, she had vanished from the mezzanine level and he could not find her.

  Damn it, where is she?

  He dropped to one knee to lower his profile, reloaded the shotgun with a fresh magazine from his combat webbing and sighted along the weapon toward the front of the warehouse which still flashed, smoked, banged and whistled with colored, sparkling mayhem. Moments later the fireworks bled dry as a final lonely rocket shot across the warehouse, exploding with a loud whistling bang in a streamer of green sparkles.

  He heard one of the operatives call out in a disgusted growl, ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me?’

  The warehouse went silent, and grappling hooks once again sailed over the container walls.

  They’re not buying it. They know we’re up here now and they are going to fight us here.

  Anton caught Gang signaling with his hand, suddenly the lights on the cranes came on, and the right container plummeted to the floor with an earsplitting bang, a half second later, the left container followed it down.

  Anton heard a scream of horror that suddenly cut off as the second container slammed onto the floor of the warehouse.

  Li dropped the containers, which means that the operatives are now in our claymore kill zones.

  Anton saw the grappling lines go taut again on both sides of the warehouse; this time, he had to wait until the operatives leaped and rolled onto the top of the containers. Men in black body armor appeared on top of the wall on both sides of the warehouse, he heard Gang’s MP7s rip into action. At the same time, he started firing his shotgun. The weapon barked and stuttered; the lead operative wore a suit and a bulletproof vest, he rolled forward and sideways with cat-like reflexes, the heavy blasts of shot striking the next operative in the chest who staggered backward and fell off the wall.

  It’s him, the suit from that night.

  Anton immediately ramped, moving to the right as return fire lanced past him on the left. He felt bullets whiz past his head, the suit was still firing at him with uncanny accuracy even as he ramped away. Before Anton could fire again, another two operatives were suddenly thrown backward in quick succession by heavy caliber rounds fired from above and behind him.

  My guardian angel with a sniper rifle.

  The remaining two operatives on Anton’s side of the warehouse followed the suit as he led them off the top of the maze wall.

  They’re breaking.

  Anton moved again, this time backward and to his left, zig-zagging across the top of the maze. He heard Gang’s MP7s fire again as he traded streams of bullets with the operatives that had scaled the wall on his side of the warehouse. The operatives had spread out first and Gang had multiple dispersed targets.

  Anton saw him blur, fire, blur and fire again. Two of the operatives spun around, dropping to the floor below, another two followed them as Li claimed their lives with her heavy .50 caliber sniper rifle.

  Suddenly two of the claymore mines went off, one to the right, near Anton and the other to the left near Gang. The explosions rang through the warehouse, the crash of hundreds of ball bearings smashing against the steel containers was immediately followed by the screams of the wounded and dying men caught in the blasts.

  Anton ramped, backing deeper into the warehouse, Gang did the same. They both took up positions mid-way along the maze. Gang signaled Anton with his hand, pointed to his eyes and then at the rear of the warehouse. Turning, Anton jogged toward the river end of the warehouse.

  When he got near the river end, he took up a position where he could see the dock entrance. There was no one on the dock. In the distance, he could see a RHIB patrolling the river, above him, he could hear the distant sounds of a hovering helicopter.

  He rested and kept watch, as silence descended upon the warehouse, broken only by the cries of the wounded.

  * * *

  The wounded man stopped moaning, lapsing into unconsciousness as the powerful narcotic took effect.

  Each of the Shadowstone operatives carried a kit with syringes, filled with stimulants, painkillers, and other useful compounds. James threw the used syringe to the floor, squatted and picked up the man, throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried him back to the front of the warehouse where he laid him dow
n with the other three wounded. The three remaining active operatives, Rigby and Hansen from Blue-5, and Boorman from Green-6 stood guard. They were dispersed in a line just inside the front of the warehouse, their rifles on full auto, scanning the maze wall for any sign of attack.

  James turned, looking at the steel containers, peppered with holes from the initial Nightfalcon strafing, and scorched from the Hellfire missiles that had blown apart the great steel doors at the front of the warehouse. Containers that now hid the bloody remains of twenty five of his men. All killed in a firefight that had lasted less than three minutes. He scratched his head with both hands, rubbing his scalp hard, forward and back. His mouth was a thin slash in a face that had gone tight and pale. His hands clenched into fists and then unclenched, he brushed them on his trousers which were splattered with the blood of his men.

  James tapped his earpiece, growling, ‘Wesson report?’

  ‘Sir, exits are secure at the river end, and on this side of the warehouse, no one has escaped,’ Louise said her voice flat in his ear.

  What a damn nightmare.

  James looked at his watch, it was 18:05, it would take close to a hundred minutes for more spectrum teams to get ready, and reach Boston with their Nightfalcons. That still left him, at least half an hour to re-establish the cordon before General Armitage and her Special Forces team arrived after sunset.

  ‘Wesson, who is left on standby at Fort Dix?’

  ‘The rest of Indigo-6 are available; one Nightfalcon and three squads. Orange-2 and Violet-7 are on international deployment in South America, and Yellow-3 is in reserve at Fort Dix, it would take three hours to get them here via Helicopter and nearly six hours by van.’

  ‘What about our forces from the other three sectors in North America?’

  ‘Too far away to get here in any sort of meaningful timeframe, Sir.’

  ‘Get Indigo-6 here ASAP, and fire up Yellow-3 and get them to mobilize cleanup and PSYOPS crews. Everyone will be needed tonight.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  James spat on the ground, turning to his remaining men, he said, ‘move back to the car park entrance. Help me with the wounded, if they had wanted to kill us they would have done it by now.’

  The men slung their rifles, each one picked up one of their comrades and followed James back to the car park entrance, the big shady tree, and the original four wounded men.

  James laid his man onto the thin grass under the shade of the tree, the sun was nearing the horizon and shadows were beginning to reach their dark fingers toward the front of the warehouse. He rubbed his chin, shook his head, keeping his thoughts unspoken before his men.

  What a disaster. We were completely unprepared for this fight. Years of training, combat experience, and superb equipment meant nothing in that death trap. What the hell does General Armitage expect to achieve with her damn Special Forces when they arrive?

  James turned, inspecting his wounded, and discovered that one of them had just died, he could not stop himself from doing the math.

  Make that twenty six dead from the warehouse assault.

  * * *

  The overhead lights gleamed off the all-black Nightfalcon as it sat in the middle of the hanger.

  Before the machine stood six of Cornelius Crane’s handpicked praetorian guards. Each wore matte black Shadowstone body armor, and combat helmets modified to protect and facilitate vampire senses. They were uniformly armed with M249 light machine guns with one hundred round drum magazines, half a dozen hand grenades attached to combat webbing and an assortment of personal edged weapons composed of various long bladed swords and heavy battle axes.

  General Chloe Armitage emerged from the lift, she wore the same style of armor as the guards, but she was armed only with the Red Dragon sword belted to her left hip. She strode with determined grace toward her personal Nightfalcon. The guards tilting their heads in deference, parted before her. She led them on board, taking a seat behind the vampire pilot facing back into the cabin. The praetorians filed into the cabin, the last one pulling the door shut.

  The helicopter’s twin turbines started, in seconds, the rotors were spinning and gathering pace. Red lights strobed throughout the hanger, a klaxon sounded a steady ululation and other vampires cleared the space as the bay doors began rapidly winding back.

  The late afternoon sunlight slashed through the air above the Nightfalcon and gleamed off the domes of the Citadel’s advanced air defense systems as they emerged above the roof line of the massive tower. The turbines roared, the black Nightfalcon leaped through the gap in the roof, speeding away to the north east, its polished skin sparkling in the setting sun.

  Chloe surveyed her troops; each of the praetorians had been alive for more than a century, some for more than two centuries. They had been carefully selected by Cornelius Crane on the battlefield, then honed by long years of war to unparalleled skills in combat and warcraft. They had all been saved from death at the very last moment of their mortal lives and were to a man, determined to serve their immortal master for eternity.

  She had provided them all with an extensive briefing of the site and the mission in a ready room off the hanger bay, she smiled quietly at them as they now sat relaxed, confident, and ready to deal death once more.

  None of you will survive tonight.

  She glanced to the side, looking through the dark transparent armor of the canopy at the hard luminous ball of the sun descending toward the horizon. It was moments like this, from behind heavy shielding, that she could look at it without fear of crumbling to dust.

  Chloe stared at the sun, suddenly shivering with a deep, heartfelt longing.

  One day I will bathe in your rays again and the world will tremble before me.

  * * *

  Anton clicked the last shotgun round into the magazine, ramming the full load into the automatic shotgun, he chambered the first round.

  He held the gun tightly and noticed his own knuckles were white against the dull gray of the weapon. Smiling wryly to himself, he slung the gun over his shoulder, flexed his fingers and took a couple of deep breaths.

  I need to ease up and get frosty.

  He looked over to where Gang was standing on a ladder, duct taping one of the blue paint splashed MGLs to the end of one of the top level containers. The MGL was positioned just out of sight to allow easy access by anyone running along the top of the maze who knew it was there.

  One of the vampire specials, loaded with silver flechettes.

  ‘First the Triads, then Shadowstone, and now the Vampire Dominion. It’s been a busy couple of days,’ Anton said.

  Gang studied Anton for a moment and grinned, ‘you know what - we have been so busy that we have forgotten to eat - which is appalling.’

  He backed down the ladder and picked up his backpack. Rummaging around inside it for a moment, he brought out a large thermos flask and three large plastic mugs in a stack, and laid them out on top of a metal ammo can. He poured the contents of the flask into the mugs which steamed lightly, smelling delicious.

  ‘Hmmm, I thought I could smell something good,’ Li said, jumping lithely down from the maze wall.

  ‘It’s vegetarian, I don’t recommend meat - too heavy just before a battle,’ Gang said.

  ‘And no Saki as well,’ Li added.

  ‘Just so, which reminds me,’ Gang said, reaching into the backpack, he pulled out a polished steel hip flask. ‘The last of Tatsu’s family reserve, we will share it together when tonight is done.’ Gang grinned, ‘now who can I trust to look after it?’

  ‘C’mon,’ Anton said, rolling his eyes, ‘that would be me.’

  Li ramped forward, plucking the flask from Gang’s hand, ‘family rules.’

  ‘Okay - can’t argue with that,’ Anton said.

  Li put the flask away in one of her belt pouches.

  Anton picked up the mug of soup. It smelled wonderful, a thing of beauty in the midst of the blood stained warehouse. Anton put his fingers around the mug, feelin
g the warmth of the soup flowing into them. He sipped the soup, discovering the delicious flavors and textures of cream, fennel, spinach and asparagus.

  ‘This is fantastic, but I don’t remember it being on the Noodle House menu.’

  ‘Well the style of the Noodle house was a selection of more authentic northern Chinese cuisine, but my personal style has always been a fusion of Chinese, Japanese, and Western flavors.’

  ‘Do you think that you’ll do it again?’

  ‘What, a restaurant? Well, I would love to - I still have a passion for food and I love to cook. We’ll just have to see how all this pans out. But yes, if I get a chance, I would like to do it again; but next time, not with such a low profile, more a full expression of the natural fusion of flavors from eastern and western cuisines.’

  Anton sniffed, drinking the aroma; and then swallowed some more of the soup which was just at the right temperature to be comfortably drunk.

  ‘Gang, have you considered that you just might be a genius cook?’

  ‘Well ...’ Gang stroked his chin contemplatively, took a hearty slurp of his soup and laughed, ‘you could be right.’

  Li suddenly turned to the south, her face a study in concentration and said decisively, ‘another helicopter.’

  ‘Reinforcements - and not yet dark,’ Gang remarked.

  ‘... just one.’

  ‘How do you do that? Your hearing is so good,’ Anton asked.

  ‘Just lucky I guess.’

  ‘Are we prepared?’ Gang said.

  ‘The second set of pyrotechnics are in place.’

  ‘Good work Li.’

  ‘Will they work?’ Anton asked, ‘the last set didn’t seem to impact the Shadowstone forces.’

  ‘They gave you time to reload didn’t they?’ Li said.

  Anton nodded.

  Gang said, ‘vampires are natural night hunters - their senses are optimized for operating with minimal light - we can turn that strength into a weakness.’

  ‘How many will come?’ Anton asked