A Subtle Agency

by Graeme Rodaughan

  He had been excited earlier in the day to discover that they had cornered a team of Order of Thoth operatives, and then shocked when the first engagement had destroyed two helicopters, killing their crews, and another eight good men. Then there had been the ill-fated assault on the warehouse where another twenty six had died. What a disaster, nothing like that had ever happened before in the history of Shadowstone.

  ‘What the hell!’ Harris shouted from the bow of the boat where he manned the Mk 19 automatic Multi Grenade Launcher.

  West watched as a blond Shadowstone Special Forces soldier flew end over end to land in the river with a splash.

  ‘How did she do that?’ Martinez said at the stern, his hands on the .50 caliber machine gun, swinging it to aim at the melee on the dock.

  ‘Who knows, some sorta crazy Kung Fu,’ Jenkins said from amidships next to the quad mount FIM-92 Stinger missile system.

  West growled, ‘stow that crap, and keep your eyes peeled - our job is to keep watch - not provide a damn sports commentary.’

  Harvey West checked that his safety was off, surveying the shoreline about five hundred yards opposite the warehouse. There was a park there that had been evacuated, the Boston Police Department enforced a cordon to make sure that no one would come from that direction. He had a strong suspicion that if the rest of the Order of Thoth were as capable as the handful of terrorists fighting on the dock, then the BPD would be pretty much useless in this fight.

  The RHIB rocked for a second.

  Harris said, ‘What -’

  Looking forward, West saw Harris falling limply into the River.

  Hearing a loud splash, he twisted back to the stern; Martinez had vanished.

  Jenkins stood up, pointing his rifle at the water, firing and screaming, ‘they’re in the water!’

  West swung around lifting his gun; something flashed through the air, striking Jenkins in the back of the head. It was a knife; Jenkins fell forward, toppling over the edge of the RHIB and into the river.

  ‘Oh my God!’ West whispered, pulling the trigger on his assault rifle, firing blindly around the boat into the water. He emptied his magazine and the gun clicked dry.

  He felt a sudden pressure on his back, and a bloody blade erupted from his chest as pain flared through his body. He felt a powerful push, he fell forward off the blade, pitching head first into the river.

  Underwater he could hear a dull roar as the throttles on the RHIB’s engines were opened to full power and the boat disappeared as a darkness far greater than the murk of the river overwhelmed him.

  * * *

  Gang’s sword crashed against the praetorian’s blades.

  The praetorians fought with skill and power, they pressed hard against Gang and he had to give ground, shifting backward toward the melee along the dock. A dozen yards away, Chloe Armitage waited with glistening eyes, her attention focused on him; the Red Dragon was unsheathed, its point carried in perfect stillness an inch off the concrete surface of the dock.

  First these two, and then the Demon.

  Gang reassessed the battle, as the two vampires circled around him, probing his defenses without success.

  I can’t allow her to get to Li and Anton - they are not ready to face her - I must protect them.

  Plunging his mind deeply into silence he became one with space, flow, and time. He felt power surge through his body as the White Dragon arced through the air, shearing through the red-headed praetorian’s sword in a shower of brilliant sparks. The vampire’s eyes widened in terror as Gang’s blade continued past his shattered defenses, driving deep into his chest. Gang drew the White Dragon back, cutting the vampire’s heart in two.

  The second praetorian’s blade whispered through an overhead arc toward Gang’s head like the hammer of a dark god.

  Blurring with blinding speed, Gang continued the motion of drawing the White Dragon from the dying vampire, sweeping it through a horizontal arc, striking the second praetorian beneath the armpit, the White Dragon continued easily through ruptured armor, flesh and bone before exiting in a spray of bright red blood.

  The vampire, his mouth gaping with shock, slid off the lower part of his body, crumpling into a writhing heap.

  Ten yards away, Gang heard the sound of sincere applause and looked up, straight into the vivid blue eyes of Chloe Armitage.

  ‘Such mastery of the blade,’ she smiled. ‘I have not seen it’s like since I fought Arthur Slayne.’

  Walking toward her, Gang said, ‘you have nothing to say to me - Demon.’

  Chloe smiled again, but her eyes narrowed and hardened; she flourished the Red Dragon and blurred forward.

  In a second, Gang and Chloe faced each other barely eight feet apart. They each held their swords with both hands poised over their shoulders; a mirror image study of purity and purpose.

  For a long moment, stillness reigned.

  Chloe leaned forward slightly, whispering, ‘Gang Wu, I see you.’

  Gang’s eyes twinkled, ‘no you don’t.’

  Both moved at the same time, their blades flew through elegant arcs, crashing against each other with utter fury and power. The meteoric iron from which the White and Red Dragons were forged flexed and shivered, and withstood the forces that would have shattered any other weapon. A moment later, having neatly traded places, Gang and Chloe faced each other again; both were untouched, their defenses equal to the task before them.

  Gang’s mind fell once more into silence. The future and the past dissolved as he became one with the moment. Allowing the Ramp to flourish he surrendered to the effects of long years of dedicated training, engaging Chloe Armitage in mortal combat without regard for safety, hope or deliverance.

  Gang wielded the White Dragon with dazzling mastery, the blade glimmering in the floodlights over the dock as he struck blow after blow against Chloe Armitage’s formidable defenses. Time and again they blurred and shifted position, engaging in a deadly dance of razor sharp metal. In the depths of his sinews and nerve fibers, Gang began the unique sequence of moves that he had developed over the last twenty years for this one specific task. This would be the test of his life’s work, a test of his ability to innovate beyond the martial gifts of Chloe Armitage and claw away her life with a blood soaked blade.

  A test whose result would be determined before the passing of another minute with either her death or his own.

  * * *

  James let the barrel of his gun drop down, taking a step backward.

  He saw Louise Wesson lower her P90, a quizzical look on her face as she also took a step back. The rest of the Shadowstone operatives maintained position, their guns held high, a net of red dot sights focused on the available targets.

  Li and Gang Wu, and Anton Slayne.

  James took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

  The battles on the dock continued to evolve. In a sudden movement, Gang Wu killed two of the Shadowstone Special Forces operatives, and Chloe Armitage rushed forward with her blade. In moments, they had engaged, their blurred movements impossible to track.

  ‘This is insane,’ Louise said. ‘Look how fast they move, all of them - this is why we were decimated.’

  ‘It’s like the Noodle House, but this time, we have Special Forces that match them.’

  ‘It’s another world,’ Louise whispered.

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  Something caught his eye out on the river. The RHIB was under full power, charging toward the end of the dock. It was about sixty yards away when James suddenly felt that something was very, very wrong.

  He reflexively pushed Louise Wesson aside, diving to the left.

  He shouted, ‘incoming!’

  The Mk 19 MGL on the bow of the RHIB started firing grenades toward his men. James and Louise fell to the ground, the grenades fell amongst his men, exploding with devastating effect.

  In less than two seconds a dozen grenades destroyed his team.

  James lifted his head, looking out at the battle, his h
and on his assault rifle. The RHIB stopped at the far end of the dock, five Order operatives leaped from the boat and blurred along the dock firing MP7 submachine guns. He watched one of the Special Forces soldiers fighting Li Wu suddenly freeze. She immediately rushed past him, her sword flashing through a high arc, the man’s head flew off his shoulders and rolled along the dock.

  Bizarrely, the man’s headless body remained stiffly upright.

  WTF?

  Stinger missiles fired from the quad mount in the middle of the RHIB, streaking up into the night sky toward the circling Nightfalcons.

  Damn the orders.

  James got to one knee, swinging his rifle up to his shoulder. Sighting down the barrel along the dock, he looked for a clear target.

  This mission has gone to hell; I’ve got to do something to fix it.

  Chapter Seven

  “Flavor is a universal language understood by everyone.” - Chef Gang Wu, the first and last lines of the Noodle House Menu

  “If you love others, life will of necessity be tragic, beautiful, but tragic.” - Gang Wu, father, husband, and widower

  “Effective innovation is the child of mastery of both technique and self.” - Gang Wu, Ramp master, wielder of the White Dragon

  * * *

  Boston

  June 11th

  20:29

  The grenades boomed, and cracked.

  The Shadowstone troops fell away in disarray, decimated by the surprise attack from the RHIB. Defensive flares streamed through the night sky as the circling helicopters attempted to evade the missiles streaking toward them. First one, and then another helicopter exploded in balls of flame, immediately falling from the sky; only one survived as both missiles simply stopped working within a thirty-yard radius of the black Nightfalcon, before falling harmlessly away.

  Anton scrambled to defend himself, parrying, blocking and backing slowly along the dock as he dodged the rain of blows from the praetorian facing him.

  Suddenly the vampire reversed, moving backward, as two men in combat fatigues and carrying long katanas blurred past Anton to engage him. The vampire’s eyes flattened with grim determination, he picked up his pace as he furiously defended against the two Order warriors. In a moment, Anton found himself able to take a breath and assess the broader battle.

  In the brief respite; he took in the RHIB at the end of the dock, a single warrior moved from the bow where the grenade launcher was to the stern where a heavy machine gun stood ready for war. Near the RHIB, three Order members and a dripping blond praetorian with a battle axe in one hand and a sword in the other traded blows.

  I thought he was dead - he’s back.

  Above the crane gantries, the surviving Shadowstone helicopter hovered, its waist gun unmanned. Beneath it on the dock, he could see Gang and Chloe Armitage trading blows.

  He saw Li walking away from the strangely upright, headless body of the Japanese samurai vampire. The Green Dragon was red with his blood, flicking her sword, she cleaned it, while heading toward where her father fought Chloe Armitage.

  Before the gates of the warehouse, he saw the smashed remains of a score of Shadowstone operatives. One, however, was upright on one knee at the edge of his fallen men. Anton recognized him as the suit who had led the Shadowstone team on the night his mother was murdered and rage flooded through his soul. The man had his assault rifle pointing down the dock, his head tilted to sight his targets; suddenly the under barrel grenade launcher fired and the assault rifle smoked as the operative followed the grenade with a withering burst of fire.

  Anton yelled, ‘grenade!’

  The grenade exploded at the end of the dock, bullets streaming toward the RHIB, the Order warriors, and the blond vampire.

  I can take him out, then join Li and Gang against Armitage - we can kill them both tonight.

  * * *

  The General’s helicopter swooped down, looming above them, as Gang and Chloe continued their one on one combat.

  Gang rested deeper into the silence as his sequence of attacks and defenses neared their ultimate expression. The world shrank, the smoke and the screams of the wounded and dying drifted away, time slowed to a crawl. The White Dragon met the Red Dragon in another clash of blades, the White Dragon’s blade slid down to the Red Dragon’s Guard.

  Gang immediately stepped back and they broke away from each other. Chloe raised her sword up, revealing the intended gap, and Gang drove through it with the White Dragon.

  This is it.

  The White Dragon pierced Chloe’s black armor just below her left breast, driving deep into her until it’s point erupted in half a dozen blood-soaked inches out of her back.

  He knew well that this first strike would not kill her, but with the edge of the White Dragon facing next to Chloe’s heart, the reversing cut as he pulled the blade free would fatally slice her heart in two.

  Chloe grimaced in pain, her eyes widened with shock; she staggered and the blade cut deeper as the wound in her chest widened.

  Gang immediately began withdrawing his blade, pulling back on the White Dragon, it began to bite further in toward Chloe’s heart.

  In a sudden movement that blurred before his eyes, Chloe’s left hand fell from her sword’s handle, grabbing his left wrist before he could continue to pull on his sword.

  Gang felt the bones in his wrist instantly give way, he ignored the agony of her crushing grip, focusing all of his power on completing a fatal cut.

  His movement halted, frozen in place.

  Swinging his free hand wide, he knew that his left hand was lost.

  The Red Dragon flashed before his eyes, instantly severing his left hand.

  The sequence was over - it had failed.

  Ignoring the shock that raced up his arm, Gang crouched, sweeping with his foot, but Chloe leaped over the attack, drawing the White Dragon from her chest as she flew over him.

  Lightning quick, Gang rose, turning and leaping backward a dozen feet.

  Chloe was faster; flying through the air, she landed in front of him, lunging forward with the Dragon swords.

  Gang grimaced as the blades sheared through his chest, pushing out through his back in a spray of blood.

  He tried to gasp but wheezed as blood rushed into his lungs.

  Chloe drew the blades out, he fell backward and lay still on the cold concrete of the dock, his blood rapidly pooling around him.

  Chloe staggered a second time, a trickle of blood breaking past her lips, dropping the White Dragon, she clutched at her chest. Above her the Nightfalcon lowered; with inhuman speed and power, she leaped upward into the open cabin of the helicopter, which immediately veered up and away from the battle.

  * * *

  Li screamed with horror.

  Anton spun back toward her, his rage evaporating, he dashed forward toward her. In front of him, he saw Gang slide off two sword blades as Chloe staggered back, dropped the White Dragon and then leaped upward into the cabin of the hovering helicopter. A hard knot engulfed his chest, choking his throat.

  He ran forward silently as bullets zipped past his head, the surviving Shadowstone operative was retreating back into the warehouse, firing short bursts of covering fire as he left the dock.

  Above the gantries, the black helicopter’s turbines roared under full power as it leaped upward, veering away over the Mystic River. He got a glimpse of Chloe Armitage standing alone within the cabin bay, blood covering the left side of her chest armor, she was staring at her gauntleted right hand which was pressed tightly under her left breast.

  Gang got her?

  Suddenly there was a line of tracers streaming up from the .50 caliber machine gun on the RHIB. They sparked off the armor of the helicopter and with them appeared a row of holes, stitching along the hull of the Nightfalcon from nose to tail. The armor piercing bullets struck Chloe Armitage just as she looked up and she vanished in a cloud of pink mist.

  The helicopter’s engines stuttered, black smoke pouring from its side. It suddenly
dropped like a stone into the Mystic River, landing with a huge splash, and immediately sinking beneath the surface.

  His throat loosened, he exulted, ‘she’s dead! She’s dead!’

  He ran over to where Li cradled her father’s head, dropping to his knees opposite her.

  Gang’s chest was soaked in blood.

  Anton’s heart sank, his throat constricted again, he steepled his hands over his nose and mouth, whispering, ‘oh no.’

  * * *

  Li cradled her father’s head, gently stroking his face with blood stained hands as tears streamed from her eyes. Gang blinked, gurgling as blood trickled from the edge of his mouth.

  ‘Lift me up,’ he whispered weakly.

  ‘Father, lie still, stay with us.’

  Gang snorted, coughing blood, and smiled wanly, ‘always the disobedient one.’

  ‘Father! Don’t leave us,’ Li bent her head over Gang, crying with terror.

  Gang began to push himself up, grimacing, and Li and Anton both reached beneath him, bringing his shoulders up so that he was almost sitting. Anton moved his knee behind him, supporting him with his thigh as Gang reclined back. His face was pale with blood loss, he dragged in a breath, turning to face Li he smiled at her, his eyes glistening in the warehouse flood lights.

  The sounds of combat on the dock faded away as Li trembled with shock. Old memories flooded her mind; of a thirteen-year-old girl holding her father’s hand with too tight a grip. Of the coffins of her mother and older brother standing on rails before her. Of attendants removing the supports and the coffins descending into graves cut from the snow covered ground. She remembered tears freezing on her cheeks before they could fall. The cold of that day was a pale echo of the frigid depths of sorrow that now brushed her heart with icy fingers.

  Gang struggled to breathe, each breath harder than the one before, and each gap longer before he drew the next breath. He stared at his daughter’s face, never moving his gaze.